#finally finished working absolutely hate this dress i hope i can have some pasta to cheer me up lol

[fairycosmos]

well im going for dinner 🍝

[cultgambles]

Forgotten Lunch (Jumin Han x Reader)

This was originally posted as a little blurb but why the hell not put the whole thing am i rite?? Like, i wasn’t sure if tumblr would take it down bc of the whole ban, but the other writings have been up haha

Summary: Jumin thinks his MC comes to the office for a little chat, but MC has other plans...

n s f w, office (semi-public), being walked in on, bjs, vaginal fingering

wc: 2.1k

Masterlist | Requests? open

“Oh! MC! What a pleasant surprise! How are you doing today?”

“I’m wonderful Jaehee, hope Jumin isn’t working you to the bone too much?” you reply to the secretary with a small smile.

“Same old same old,” Jaeehee sighs. “Is that lunch for him? He’s free right now if you would like to go up.”

“Aww, I’ll tell him to chill a bit, okay? Maybe he’ll listen this time. And I have one for you, too. Don’t eat those bento boxes all the time, they’re not the healthiest,” you chide, reaching into your bag and pulling out some pasta you had made. Jaehee takes the meal graciously and tells you she has to go back to work otherwise she’d work more overtime than usual.

The walk to the elevator and the ride up seemed to take a millennium, and when the final ding rang, you practically jumped out and ran to his office at the end of the hallway.

You try to stifle your smile, breathing a deep breath and knocking twice on the door.

“Come in,” Jumin’s muffled voice wafts through the door. He looks up slightly, his eyes brightening when he sees you.

“My love, to what do I owe the pleasure?” he says, starting to stand.

“Don’t worry! You just stay right there, I’ve only come to bring you some lunch. I made Alfredo,” You smile, closing the door behind you.

“MC, you didn’t have to make me anything. I have those private chefs you know.”

“I thought it would be cute to bring you some food!” you pout, making your way around the desk after placing the thermos down. You lean forward behind him, running your hands down his chest, placing a small kiss on his cheek. You swear Jumin purrs before clearing his throat, and patting his leg for you to sit. You do, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and neck, leaning in to pepper kisses on his face. He pulls you flush against his body, and you trade kisses for a while. You sigh, leaning in the crook of his neck. 

“Oh, how I wish to abandon everything right now,” he sighs softly, pressing the words into your neck.

“Why can’t you? Let’s just go home and relax...but also let Jaehee have the rest of the day off too?” You say with an afterthought.

“You know I can’t, kitten.”

“Fineeee, I’ll leave you be then,” You swing one leg over his, appearing to get off, but you plop your ass right back down, basically straddling his leg, and take notice of his computer screen. “Oooh, what are you working on?”

“Just some of the new products I want to export. Though, I am having to fight with my father about it because he just doesn’t think cat products would sell,” he replies, sucking in a breath of air. “What do you think you are doing?” he asks, strained as you slightly rock back and forth to get into a more comfortable position. His large hand finds purchase on your hip, sending tingles throughout your body. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you say. That’s a lie though. You know exactly what you’re doing. You’re grinding your hips into his leg, dry humping him. The friction of your sliding back and forth makes you let out a small moan at how good it feels.

Jumin swallows, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down. “So, this is the game you want to play? Let’s see it through then,” he mumbles lowly, leaning his head on his other hand. You lean forward to place your hands on his desk, moving more furiously against his leg, your body finally getting that friction it craved from when he touched you this morning. The feel of your panties against his pant leg rub together deliciously, and you’re tempted to hike up your yellow sundress to feel more of it. 

“O-oh! Jumin,” you moan out, rolling your hips more deeply, feeling that sensation in your belly. His hand on your hip never leaves you, almost guiding you to your finish. The knot unravels, bursting through your body and clouding your senses. You shudder, feeling the waves of pleasure die down. You lean back against him, panting slightly. He presses a kiss to your forehead.

“Have fun there, sweetheart?” His voice is pretty stable for what you just did, but you definitely feel something poking your lower back. 

“Mmm, yeah!” You say with a smile, getting up on shaky legs. “Well, I’m gonna go home and you finish up your work, okay?”

Before you can get very far, however, he catches your wrist and pulls you back onto his lap.

“You’re very naughty today, aren’t you? Did you want to be punished by daddy that badly?” Jumin says, running a hand down your stomach while the other holds your breast. 

“I just missed you, s’all…” your voice goes up an octave as he bites your sweet spot. 

“Well, we’re going to finish what you started then. Lucky for you, you came at the beginning of my lunch break, hmm?”

“Y-yes.”

“Did you plan that?”

“Maybe,” you say slyly.

“Really?” His hand stops just above the hem of your dress, just barely ghosting over your thigh.

“I planned it, you got me,” you whine, grinding your butt down.

“That’s what I thought,” he smirks, pulling your dress up so the lower half of you is exposed. “You’re even wearing the lace red panties I like.”

“Yeah, so don’t rip them this time,” you quip, reaching behind to palm at his dick through his pants. 

“I have all the money in the world to get you a new pair.” he rubs two fingers at your clit through the fabric. “You’re so wet for me, baby.”

“Jumin?” you squeak out.

“Yes?”

“Why is it a pair of panties even though it’s like one item?”

“Love, you say the most unsexy things at the worst times,” he chuckles, “but I think it’s because of the two leg holes.”

“Mmm, m-makes sense,” you stutter out as his fingers finally slip between the fabric and into your folds. 

“I’m taking off the fucking dress,” you say reaching for the zipper. For the moment, Jumin doesn’t hesitate to throw it over you and into a corner of the room. You also reach behind your back, unclasping your bra and throwing that somewhere too. 

“You like being exposed like this don’t you? Someone could walk in right now and that’d get you off even more, wouldn’t it?”

“I also like you fully clothed while I’m naked,” you purr. Jumin raises a brow, but continues the assault on your pussy.

“Well, I’m not complaining.” 

Your lewd sounds fill the quiet air, and you feel the familiar knot in your abdomen. You come in Jumin’s hand, and you turn your head to give him an open mouthed kiss. Breaking the kiss, he pulls his long fingers out of you not before licking the slick off.

You stand over him slightly and lean down to undo his zipper and pull down his boxers. His cock springs free, the tip leaking pre cum. You reach down between your legs and swipe your fingers through the folds, wetting them. Your hand reaches up to his member and you grip around it, running your hand up and down the shaft. 

Jumin makes a guttural sound as your mouth moves on him. He reaches his hand down to run through your hair.

Two knocks at the door.

You pause an anxious fear in your throat. Jumin clears his throat, “What is it?”

“It’s me, Sir, I’m here to remind you of your 2 o’clock meeting in about thirty minutes.” Jaehee says through the door. “Can I come in to give you the briefing?”

“You may.” 

“Wow, ballsy,” you whisper, loud enough for him to hear. He smirks slightly and adjusts his tie.

“Well, you’re meeting with Mr. Phantomhive to discuss collaborating on a project. His company hasn’t really gotten footing here in South Korea,” Jaehee remarks.

Meanwhile, you’re bobbing your head on Jumin’s length, the thought of the both of you getting caught working you up. You massage his balls and try to suck in as much as you can, the tip hitting the back of your throat. Jumin huffs, making Jaehee pause to ask if he’s doing alright. 

“Is that all? I have to finish up this cat project outline soon,” he says quietly. 

“Ah, one more thing, Mr. Phantomhive hates being called short or looked down upon, so please try your best to behave!”

“Fine fine,” he waves her off, “I assume Meeting Room 3?”

“Yes Sir, I’ll come get you once Mr. Phantomhive arrives.”

“Good. Please close the door on the way out.” You hear Jaehee shuffle out awkwardly, the door clicking behind her.

“MC, you’re very distracting,” Jumin says, looking down at you.

“Yes, I know.”

“Why don’t you come up here then?” You pop off, licking your lips slightly and pull down your panties so it hangs off your ankle. 

You give him a quick kiss before your hand reaches down  for his dick. His hands lay on your hips as you sink your drenched core down, helping you better situate. You let out a moan as he fills you up, not a spot without him there.  

“J-Jumin, you f-feel so good in me…”  your arms wrap around the both of you, one gripping the chair and the other in his hair, pulling ever so slightly. 

Not even 20 seconds later, you’re already bouncing, and he’s meeting every one perfectly.

“Love, why don’t you turn around so I can look at your pretty face?”

“But I don’t want to get up,” you whine.

“That’s an order, sweetheart,” he says, slightly lifting you up.

“Ooh, you know I love when you do that. I guess I can’t say no to that now, can I?” You turn to face him and fully sit this time, your heels just above his knees.

“I love looking at your face, the way it contorts into pleasure as I give it to you raw,” he growls, latching onto one of your breasts. You throw your head back in ecstasy, arching your back more as he pumps into you at a steady pace.

“Mmm...go faster..please. Absolutely wreck me,” you beg. That really seemed to get him going, his pace more erratic and his fingers digging into your sides. You lean down to kiss him, his mouth already slightly parted. His tongue instantly finds its way into your mouth and he groans into it.

“MC, I can’t last much longer, he pants.”

“Come in me, Daddy. Let’s have little Jumin’s and MC’s running around soon,” you tell him.

Thick ropes of cum fill your cervix, as you come yourself for the third time. Jumin holds you close as the both of you come down from your highs. 

“I love you, Jumin,” you say, pressing your forehead against his.

“I love you more,” he whispers sweetly. “Oh how you do me.” 

The phone on Jumin’s desk beeps, startling you both. “Mr. Han? Your appointment starts in 5 minutes. I’ll be up in a few,” the voice says.

“Oh I do not want to go to this meeting anymore,” Jumin says, “Let’s just stay like this.”

“You need to though, Mr. Phantomhive’s candy is really good and I haven’t had any since our trip to England,” You remark, getting off him and handing him a tissue.

“That’s reason enough,” he shrugs, cleaning up a bit and fixing his hair. Meanwhile, you slip your dress back on and stuff your bra in your purse.

“See you later, love,” you smile, leaning up to peck his cheek, and fix his tie.

“You’ll hopefully be seeing me earlier than planned,” he says, brushing down your hair.

“Oh? You gonna give Jaehee the day off?”

“Sure, yes. I’ll do that.”

“Thank you. Ellie and I will be waiting for your return...though I’m sorry I took you away from your lunch,” you say with a slight frown.

“I’ll eat a good dinner. So good until I have my fill,” he says in a sultry voice.

“Okay, tiger, calm down,” you laugh. “Bye for reals now.”

“MC? You’re still here?” Jaehee opens the door, a surprised look on her face. “I didn’t see you earlier when you walked in?”

“You came up? I must of been in the bathroom..Nice seeing you!” You smile at your friend and briskly walk out, the embarrassment of what you and your CEO-in-line just did mere minutes before.

“Mr. Han, are you ready for your meeting?”

“Yes, of course. Let’s get this over with.”

[captaincravatthecapricious]

Crutches- Prompt Fill

cw broken bones, food, internalized ableism, dizziness, headaches

Card by the wonderful @celosiaa! I am still accepting bingo prompts! Please send me more because the starred ones are back written already! Send me a prompt and a character and let me know if you want a drawing or writing!

Navigating the London underground on crutches had been trying to say the least.  But, Jon has gotten very good at navigating it with his cane, so out of sheer spite, he managed it without incident. 

He is still clumsy on them, and by the time he reaches the university, he is more than out of breath, having to stop and use his inhaler before he can reach his classroom.  (He will not be sharing that information with Martin, no way.  He is Fine, and that would only cause worry, and Martin has enough to worry about being an EMT).  

Of course the annoying thing is that he broke his Good leg.  

Of course he manages to break his one more functional leg.  What a very Jonathan Sims thing to do.  

He sighs.  He does not want to explain this to his students.  (And he certainly doesn’t want to explain this to Tim and Sasha, but of course they are coming over for dinner.  Actually… he’s grateful that they don’t already know.  Somehow he actually managed to calm Martin down and talk him out of calling them.  Jon leaned hard into the look I’m fine!  It’s a clean break!  It hardly hurts!  It’s fine!  I’ve had much worse, please don’t fuss!  I’m still conscious and everything! Thing.)

Frankly, it’s embarrassing.  

He misses the days where he would just… heal.  

He might still.  Well, he certainly would the old fashion way, but his recovery might be faster than normal.  Physical injuries are still a little aided by his connection to the Eye, however weakened that connection might be.  Doesn’t do Shit for illnesses, but as much as his EDS causes him to bruise, the bruises don’t stick around for too long.  

Just have to wait and see.  

His students stare.  

Jon shivers.  

He tries not to think about the Institute.  He tries not to think about the prickle on the back of his neck… the feeling of eyes on him when there was no one around.  Don’t be daft, Jonathan, you can see the students right there.  You can see their eyes.  You are just their odd professor who looks even more haggard and beat up than usual.  

He Feels much more haggard than usual.  And he’s shaking from the albuterol.  

“Professor, what happened?” One of his students ask as he maneuvers the podium so he can drop his bag.  

He curses at the lack of chair in the lecture hall.  He’s asked for one.  Repeatedly.  And he’s dragged his office chair in with him before, but… he doesn’t exactly have the hands to do it.  

He has to balance on one leg to dig is computer out so he can connect it to the projector.  

“I’m fine,” he answers automatically.  He was.  He is.  Just tripped like the idiot he is, and broke his good leg.  His bad leg had been throbbing since he got on the tube.  

He ignores it.  

His students eye him with clear suspicion.  Which… Jon would have worried about if… they weren’t perfectly justified.  

They had seen him faint many times, pop his hip back in place, watched him dislocate and relocate his arm, and there was the time he had the concussion, and the time he had a migraine and had fainted when someone tapped him on the shoulder, and the time when he had come to class feverish.  

These students have called Martin so many times by now.  

He deserves those cautions glances.  These kids (not really kids, but sue him, they look like kids in his eyes) are ready to call him on his bullshit.  

“I fell the other day.  I’ll be fine.  Just a broken tibia.  I’ll be fine in couple months.  Let’s get on with the lesson.”

One kid raises their hand, and Jon calls on them.  “Yes?”

“Professor Blackwood-Sims, isn’t that your good leg?”

Damn these overly observant students.  If only they payed that much attention to his lectures.  (No, that’s not fair, they are all good students.  The ones who struggle, have good reason to, and Jon has managed to get them to all come talk to him and tell him what they need to do better).  

Jon smiles tightly.  “Well… it was.  Okay, on with the lecture.”

His leg hurts.  The not broken one.  The broken one… well that hurts a little too, but not nearly as much as the one full of holes.  (They are both full of holes, but one was wormed much more thoroughly and hasn’t been the same since.)

Balancing on one leg proves difficult as he’s hit by dizziness.  He’s been standing too long.  Too long on his bad leg, and the tension and pain have given him a headache bad enough that he’s had one of his students turn off the lights.  He can’t face the light of the projector, so he gives the lecture angling away from it.  

One of his students offers to run the PowerPoint so he can sit in one of the desks as he teaches, but he turns her down.  There are only a few minutes left.  He can make it.  Then he can get home and take some painkillers and shower before Tim and Sasha come to dinner.  

He knows he can cancel, but he doesn’t want to.  He’s more dreading having explain what happened.  

He reaches the flat quickly enough.  He should have time to shower and cook.  He hopes.  

He swallows some painkillers dry (just a few so he can still take more before bed and not worry Martin by pushing the recommended doses too far) and works his way out of his work clothes while sitting on the bed.  It isn’t fun.  

He swallows his pride and uses the shower seat.  He hates it.  He hates that he needs it, yes, but honestly it’s more an issue with the textured plastic under his naked skin.  It feels… wrong.  Both because it reminds him of the circus, and because it’s just a bad texture.  It also feels gross… as in unclean.  He cleans it vigorously often, but it still doesn’t feel clean to him.  

Between the headache, and the dizziness from the hot water and several nights of poor sleep (from nightmares and trying to sleep with a cast on which gave him More nightmares), and the pain in both his legs, Jon fights back the darkness around the edges of his vision.  

He will Not pass out now.  

No.  

Will not happen.  No thank you.  No.  

He fights to keep upright and conscious.  And, surprisingly, wins that battle.  He sits on the bed again while dressing, and while braiding his hair. 

It takes him a long time.  There is a lot of hair to work with, and his scalp hurts with the intensity of his headache.  He also dallies, the more time this takes, the longer he can sit.  He should consider dragging a chair in front of the counter and a chair in front of the stove.  That could make cooking less painful.  

Well, in some ways.  

The unnatural angles are hell on his wrists when chopping.  

Lesser of two evils, however, he supposes.  

Shit.  He isn’t going to have time to finish dinner by the time Tim and Sasha arrive.  

And Martin isn’t going to be home for another hour.  He knows, he knows (not Knows, though), that they won’t mind.  Tim might even Help him cook, but… he doesn’t like being a bother.  He wants… well frankly he wants to erase the years of hurt with food (Christ, Martin has worn off on him.  Not that he minds.  He loves Martin).  

The sauce is almost done, but he hasn’t even started the pasta by the time Tim’s voice drifts through the door.  Sing-song and loud.  No knocking (thankfully).  

Jon hates that he needs the crutches to get to the door.  He hates that his vision is swimming by then too.  The painkillers took the edge off the pain, but can’t do much about the other stresses on Jon’s mortal frame.  

“Be there in a moment, or you can just let yourself in,” Jon calls back.  He has to pause and lean on the wall.  This is all very irritating.  

Apparently, Tim had already been halfway through unlocking the door, because he’s in before Jon can even finish the sentence.  

“Jesus, Jon, what did you do this time?”  Sasha exclaims, quickly, but gracefully pulling off her coat, hanging it on one of the hooks by the door.  It’s less a question than a statement.  

“Hello Sasha, Tim.  Dinner isn’t quite ready, but it’s not too far away.  In the meantime there’s wine.  Martin will be here soon, but his shift isn’t over yet.”  His eyes are closed.  Head tilted back against the wall.  The room finally stops spinning around him.  

“What did you even do?”  Tim this time.  

Jon… doesn’t meet his eyes.  He knows he is blushing, but there isn’t much to be done about that.  He mumbles.  He doesn’t know why.  He knows it won’t work.  Shoving out the words too fast to be understood.  

“What was that Jonny?”  That is a cackle.  Tim is cackling.  Tim, is very irritating… but he does love him, even when he’s teasing.  

“Tripped over my cane.”  Jon says as quickly and quietly as possible.  

“Only you, buddy.  Only You, could do something like that.  Now PLEASE SIT DOWN BEFORE YOU FALL OVER.  I can finish making dinner!”  Tim herds him to a chair.  In the kitchen, because Jon knows that Tim knows Jon won’t actually relax on the couch or the bed if he’s told to.  

“Okay, Jon, what’s left to do… No buts!  This smells amazing and I can’t fuck up pasta, probably.  At least I assume you planned pasta, because there is a box on the counter.”  Sasha says this brandishing aforementioned pasta.  

Sasha makes him tea.  Tim makes the pasta.  (Tim is absolutely the chief between the two of them.)  

“When did you last have painkillers?”  Tim asks.  

“Not too long ago.  Really I’m fine.”

Tim hmmms.  

Jon finds himself nodding off at the table by the time Martin comes home.  

He knows he’s being talked about.  

“Hey, sweetheart.  Hey?”

Jon sleepily raises his head from the table.  “Sorry, I went to work.”  

“Love, I thought you were going to Zoom in today.”  Martin doesn’t sound Angry.  But he doesn’t sound happy about this.  In Jon’s defense, he did say he would see how he felt, and he felt fine in the morning.  

Jon whines, he hates disappointing Martin.  

“We can talk about that tomorrow.”  Martin presses a kiss to his forehead.  

“Hey!  No sleeping until we eat!”  Tim.  Mock serious.  Although he will be very serious if Jon tries to skive off to sleep without some food.  

“Dinner, then I vote we cuddle Jon until he gets some rest!”  Sasha this time.  

Just like old times.  

He knows he will be teased for How he broke his leg.  He knows he and Martin will have a serious chat about him pushing himself.  

But for now there is food, and cheer, and his loved ones.  

[awhitehead17]

For the prompts: how about Jay taking care of Tim when he’s having a rough day?

Thank you for the prompt! So this turned out longer than I planned for it too and also a lot more angsty than expected but that’s balanced out with comfort and fluff! I hope you enjoy it nonetheless! :D

As he taps the pen rhythmically against a piece of paper, Jason stares at the laptop in front of him, trying to make sense on what he’s looking at. He’s got multiple police reports up on the screen as he tries to cross reference notes on a recent case he’s tied up in as the Red Hood.

While his reputation says otherwise, Jason does in fact do his homework on cases before he dives into beating the bad guys asses. He was raised by the world’s greatest detective after all.

A sudden bang snaps Jason out of his thoughts and he looks away from the computer with a frown. When a second bang sounds out, shortly after the first, Jason gets up to his feet in order to go and investigate the sounds which he thinks were coming from the hallway.

As he crosses the living room and gets closer to the hallway he hears someone mumbling underneath their breath. Whoever it is they were using many different swear words and curses and were very clearly pissed at something.

Bracing himself for the worst, Jason steps out into the hallway and freezes at the unexpected sight. Tim’s standing at the door, angrily swearing to himself as he roughly yanks off his tie and as he kicks off his shoes. He looks awful and if the angry vibe was anything to go by, he hasn’t had a great day either.

“Tim?” He speaks up getting the attention of his younger brother.

The kid instantly stops his stream of curses and snaps his head up, his eyes go wide as he spots Jason standing somewhat awkwardly in the doorway to the living room.

“Jason? What are you doing here?” His tone was sharp and if Jason didn’t know him better he would think that Tim is accusing him of something. But he does know Tim and he knows that the tone is the result of a long and exhausting day. Jason doesn’t take any offense but it does cause his concern to grow.

“I’m working on a case and this apartment is the closest to the base of operations – are you okay?” Jason starts explaining but gives up halfway through, he needs to know what’s going on with Tim. “What’s with all the swearing? That isn’t like you.”

A heavy silence falls between them and all Tim does is unsettlingly blinks at him. Before Jason could push for an answer Tim is huffing and throwing his bag down on the ground. As if that treatment wasn’t enough, he kicks the thing and pins Jason with a hard and furious look.

“You want to know what’s wrong Jason? Everything! That’s what! Everything is wrong and I’m just done with it.”

Jason only has a second to register the words before his brother is storming past him and further into the apartment. Currently unsure on what to do, Jason wordlessly follows Tim as they go through the living room and into the kitchen.

He stares as Tim unnecessarily slams cupboard doors shut and aggressively goes through the process of making a coffee. Jason’s surprised the mug doesn’t smash with how hard Tim slams it onto the counter.

This certainly wasn’t expected. He had been expecting Tim to turn up at some point during the evening, it’s his apartment after all, but he hadn’t been prepared for Tim to come home in a bad temper. It’s not often that Tim gets into bad moods like this. It takes a lot to rile up his usually level-headed brother so the fact that Tim is like this means that something major has happened which has placed him in this mood.

As far as he knows, no one has died so that’s not a reason behind the mood. Could it be work related? Tim’s in a suit meaning he’s been to the office that day so that’s a protentional explanation. It may be family related? Either Damian, Dick or Bruce may have pissed him off recently. Or perhaps it’s a mixture of things that have been building up over time and today just happens to be his final breaking point.

While Jason would like to know the reason behind this mood, he also knows that it’s not really his business and that he shouldn’t push the issue. What he does know is that he needs to make sure Tim stays safe and looks after himself. Jason needs to get him calmed down and maybe talk about what’s happened. Talking helps, or so he’s told. He’s never been one to listen to that advice himself but it may help Tim out.

“Why are you still here?”

Jason’s line of thoughts are broken when Tim snaps at him. His brother is now glaring at him while he leans against the counter with a mug of coffee in his hands. Jason feels himself bristle at Tim’s tone, he hasn’t done anything to deserve the snappiness. He knows he shouldn’t put up with the attitude but instead of retaliating he takes a deep breath and gets his emotions under control. Something has happened and Tim’s current way of coping with it is by lashing out and Jason just happens to be there.

Knowing that Tim isn’t likely to talk about whatever is up with him, Jason decides on a different approach. Ignoring the tension in the atmosphere, he wonders over to the fridge and starts browsing its contents.

“Have you eaten today? It’s about dinner time and I’m starving.” He says conversationally but isn’t expecting a response. He spots some cheese in the fridge and gets an idea. “How about pasta with a cheese sauce? Hopefully you have all of the ingredients needed.”

He grabs a few items and places them on the side and starts rummaging through the cupboards looking for the things needed. The entire time he ignores the death glare Tim is sending him from his place against the counter.

By the time Tim next speaks up, Jason had found everything he needed and has started to prep the ingredients.

“Jason, what the hell are you doing? What makes you think you have the right to come in here and prance around like you own the place!”

Telling himself to not fall for the bait, Jason hums to himself and continues with the prep. “Making dinner Timmy, what does it look like?”

A loud thump gets his attention and Jason peers over at Tim to find that he had slammed his mug down onto the side. Jason knows he’s pushing his luck but he’s hoping if he puts Tim’s stubbornness to the test his attitude will break and then Jason will be able to have a civil conversation with him. Call it tough love if you will.

His brother opens his mouth to say something else but Jason stops him from doing so. He places the knife down on the cutting board and stalks over to Tim, placing his hands on his shoulder’s Jason steers him out of the kitchen and towards the living room.

“While I get dinner ready, you go and have a shower and dress into some comfy clothes. I’ll have this ready by the time you’re finished.”

“Absolutely not! You can’t tell me what to do, this is fucking ridiculous. You’re-”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Jason interrupts firmly, lowering his tone so Tim gets the message, “and the longer we stand here arguing about it the longer it’s going to complete dinner.”

Tim’s face scrunches up in obvious distaste. His lips pull back in a snarl and in an uncharacteristic action he shoves Jason backwards before storming away, screaming over his shoulder “I hate you!”

Jason takes another breath and reminds himself to not take it to heart, Tim doesn’t mean it. In the distance he hears another door slam shut and figures Tim must have gone to the bedroom or bathroom. With not a lot of other options Jason turns back to the kitchen, he has a pasta dish to finish after all.

----

“I’m sorry.”

Jason glances up from where he was placing two plates full of pasta on the table in the living room. He spots Tim standing in the doorway and Jason instantly notices the difference in his stance compared to earlier.

Tim’s shoulders were hunched over, he had his arms wrapped around himself, he’s looking everywhere but at Jason and his voice was quiet and sounded defeated. It’s like all of the fight has finally drained out of him, leaving him feeling exhausted and depleted. It’s not surprising because it’s exactly what Jason had been after, even if it does break his heart to see his brother look so withdrawn.

Instead of pointing it out, he gestures to the table. “Just in time, foods ready.”

Tim shakes his head. “Look Jason you don’t have to-”

Jason cuts him off. “I know I don’t have to but I want to. Now eat and then we can talk properly.”

Understanding that he isn’t going to win Tim trudges over to the table and slumps into a chair. They don’t converse while they eat but to fill the silence they put the TV on which makes good background noise.

Once they were finished Jason gathers up the dishes and takes them into the kitchen before heading back to the living room, he’ll clean them up later. Tim hadn’t moved in that short time so what Jason does is grab a chair and places it backwards in front of Tim. He sits down and leans his arms on the back of the chair and looks at his brother.

In a gentle tone he prods Tim carefully. “Have you calmed down now?” Tim mutely nods, still refusing to look at him. “Okay good. Now you don’t have to but would you like to talk about what all that attitude was about? What happened Tim, it isn’t like you to snap like that.”

He sees Tim visibly swallow and take a deep breath, clearly preparing himself to talk. Jason doesn’t push him, he patiently waits for Tim to open up himself.

“I’m sorry.” Tim says again. “I – it just. Jesus I don’t even know. It’s been a shitty day, a shitty week, and today I just snapped and then I took it out on you which you really didn’t deserve so I apologize for that and for what I said. I don’t hate you and you know you’re more than welcome at any of my apartments.”

Jason couldn’t help but frown as Tim rambles on explaining his week and the events leading up to the boiling point. He tells Jason it had gotten to the point where any little thing had begun to piss him off, even the sound of the coffee machine at work was annoying him.

Tim ends his explanation by burying his head in his arms on top of the table.

Sighing Jason stands up from the chair and steps towards Tim, wordlessly he pulls his brother up to his feet and gathers him into a tight hug. Tim doesn’t fight it, his arms immediately wrap around Jason and he buries his face into his chest. To his surprise Tim doesn’t cry but he does cling onto him like a lifeline, all Jason can do is hug him back just as tight.

Resting his cheek on top of Tim’s slightly damp hair he says, “You are not going on patrol tonight. You may be calmer than earlier but you’re still not in the right frame of mind to go out. Instead what we’re going to do is stick a film on and then do absolutely nothing. Tomorrow is a new day and things will be better. We can work out all the details leading up to this later on.”

It takes a moment but Tim nods his understanding into Jason’s chest. It proves Jason’s point that Tim needs the rest because he didn’t even try to protest against the idea. He squeezes Tim one more time before letting him go.

“Okay, now go choose a film while I clear the dishes then I’ll join you.”

Tim nods again but before Jason could leave the room his brother is speaking up. “Again Jason, thank you. I don’t know why you put up with that shit I gave you but I really appreciate you not lashing out and putting your foot down. So thank you, I’ll make it up to you.”

Jason snorts. “No thanks needed Timbers. You’ve done just as much, if not more, for me in the past. It’s time to live up to the big brother title.” That gets Tim to crack a smile. With that achieved Jason finally leaves the room, telling Tim a second time to choose a film.

He hopes he can help Tim further than what he’s done so that night. He hadn’t even known if his chosen method would work or not but he’s glad it somewhat has. He’ll have another talk with the kid in the morning when they’ve rested and had more time to reflect on what’s happened.

[emmy-writes-sometimes]

The One Where Chris Takes You Out

Chris takes you on a date after your abusive boyfriend breaks up with you, but by the end of the night, he has to face his feelings for you. 

-

           Chris was there for you when no one else was. Despite the thirteen year age gap, he was kind of your favorite person. He was the one who brought you home when you were drunk, the one who always hugged you when you needed it, the one who comforted you when your boyfriend was being an asshole. Ex boyfriend now, at least.

           Chris knew the guy was emotionally abusive, and borderline physically. There had been nights when you’d cried to him on the phone saying he wouldn’t let you leave even though you wanted to, and every time you cried over him Chris could feel his heart breaking. You didn’t deserve that, any of it. So when you were sitting on his front porch, crying in the middle of a party, he went right to you. He sat down beside you and you jumped when he touched your back and pulled your hair away from the side of your face.

           “What’s up, sweetheart? Why are you so upset?” He asked you, using the nickname he reserved for you and for you only.

           “He finally broke up with me,” you replied in a low voice, sniffling as you took another sip of your beer. Chris promptly took the drink away from you and sighed.

           “I can’t say I’m not happy. But I’m sorry. I know you loved him as much as you could.”

           “I just… After all of it, I still loved him. Or still do. All he did was hurt me but I fell in love with him and I don’t know why. I don’t know why I let him do that to me for so fucking long. I’m so fucked up that I feel like he’s the only person who could ever love me.” The words were tumbling out of your mouth before you could stop them, and Chris just listened as you babbled to him.

           “I don’t know, either. But he’s not gonna hurt you or play with you any more.” Chris moved his hand from your back and intertwined your fingers together in solidarity as you leaned your head on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. Are you gonna be okay for the night?”

           “I don’t know.” Your leg was shaking. “I don’t want to go home.”

           “Then don’t. Stay here for the night. I’ll change the sheets in the guest room and you can go up whenever.” It wasn’t the first time you’d stayed with him after a bad night, but he hoped it would be the last time you stayed because of your ex. You nodded and thanked him, crying for a few more minutes before sucking it up and returning to the party.

           You woke up the next morning and Chris was extra nice – actually nicer than your ex had ever been. He made you breakfast and he waited in the car while you got your things from your ex’s apartment and then took you back to your own, making sure it was okay to leave you. You spent that night on your own and arrived on set the next morning looking better than he’d ever seen you.

           “What are you doing for dinner tonight?” He asked you as you helped set up another shot. It was the second movie you’d worked on together, but it was the millionth time he’d interrupted you to ask you what you were doing.

           “Probably making pasta and crying to myself, why?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.

           “Because I had an idea.”

           “Oh, not one of those.” He rolled his eyes.

           “Not like that. Your ex. He was an ass. And I don’t think you’ve ever gone on a date with him as long as I’ve known you.”

           “So?”

           “So I want to take you out. If you’ll let me.” You laughed.

           “You’re really going to waste your night on me?”

           “I’m not wasting my night if I show my best friend how she should be treated.”

           “Fine.”

           “I’ll pick you up at seven. Wear something cute.” You laughed as he left, bounding away like a golden retriever. You finished the few scenes you needed to finish and then went home to get ready to go out with Chris. All he said was seven and wear something cute – not what kind of attire or where you were going, so you went with a mini dress and hoped that was what he meant. You did your makeup and your hair, finally glad you had an excuse to – your ex told you that you looked fake when you did it, so you almost never did unless he wasn’t going to be around. It made you happy, so you did it.

           Chris showed up at your apartment at exactly seven o’clock, waving at you through the front window. You rolled your eyes but smiled when you saw that he’d brought you flowers. This man had really gone out of his way to buy you flowers. You opened the door and hugged him.

           “You bought me flowers?” You asked as you invited him inside to put them in some water. “Chris, you really didn’t have to.”

           “I figured it’s been a little while since you’ve had flowers in here, that’s all.” You put the bouquet in a pitcher, since you didn’t own a vase, because you were 24 and you’d never been given flowers before. He led you out to his car and opened the door for you, waiting until you were in, and then he shut it behind you.

           “You are such a gentleman,” you remarked as he got in on his side, turning the car on. He was listening to a playlist the two of you had made before a road trip for filming last year and you smiled. His CarPlay said Y/N’s playlist, and he turned it up when he saw that you noticed. You mostly talked about the day while he was driving, until he pulled into your favorite restaurant. One you almost never went to because it required reservations and getting your ex to go with you was a pain in the ass.

           “You made reservations?” He grinned.

           “I know it’s your favorite place. I had to pull the movie star card to get in tonight, so don’t hate me.” He opened the door again for you and let you out, taking you inside. It was funny – you were at a fancy place and the both of you still got the same beers that you always did. Most of the time when you went out it was to a dive bar after work, but now he was raising the bar. Your ex would never.

           “You seriously didn’t have to do this,” you said as you took out a piece of bread and dipped it in the oil. He grinned.

           “I wanted to make you happy.”

           “It worked.” You started talking about another project he was working on, and then he started telling you stupid stories about his childhood. You were trying not to think about how charming and kind and sweet he was being. You tried not to think about how your view of him was shifting. You were past friendship with him, at least mentally. This was something you’d never done with him before, and you realized that you wanted to do it every day if you could. He was just so happy when you were around, and you didn’t know if it was because of you or if it was that he was just happy to be there. You certainly were.

           “I saw an Italian Ice place down the street if you wanna go?” Chris offered as he signed the check. You’d insisted on paying for some of the food, but he had refused.

           “Sure.” You were smiling from ear to ear when he put his hand on your back and walked you down the street, not moving his hand, not checking his phone, not doing anything to distract from you. No one had paid attention to you like that in a long time. Especially not your ex. Your ex never even listened to what you were saying.

           He paid for the ice and the two of you walked across the street to look at the river that ran right through downtown, where tourist boats were still passing by even though it was long past the famous sunset. You looked over at him as he laughed, thinking about how warm the sound made you. It made you feel like you were home, and you realized you were in too deep now. You liked him. Actually liked him. And it had taken all night to figure that out, but you did. He gave your stomach butterflies and he made your smile feel so real that your cheeks hurt when you stopped. He was like the sunshine that would beat down on you in the car through your windshield – warm and absolutely unrelenting.

           “You done?” He asked you when your cup was empty. You nodded and he took it from you and threw away his own with it. He walked back over to you and you started the walk back to his car. You didn’t want the night to end. You hadn’t felt this good in such a long time and you wanted to hold onto it as long as you could so you offered for him to come in and watch a movie with you, since it was still kind of early and it was a Friday, so you didn’t have to be on set early. He agreed and you cracked open a couple of beers and sat down on your couch. You went to change into shorts and a t-shirt, just because you wanted to put your feet up.

           “Thank you for tonight,” you said to him, elbowing him a little to get his attention as he scrolled through Netflix. “It means a lot that someone did that for me. Especially you.” He beamed, and in the dim lighting you could see him blush a little bit. His ear turned red, too.

           “You deserve it. After he put you through all of that, you need a little love. And I’m happy I could give that to you.” You took his arm and leaned your head on it, closing your eyes. He moved his head and pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head. “Can I tell you something?”

           “Always.” He sighed.

           “I think, for a while, at least, I’ve had real feelings for you. And I know you might think that’s weird which is why I haven’t brought it up before, and you’ll always be my best friend and you don’t ever have to think anything different, but…”

           “I think I have real feelings for you, too,” you interrupted. “I just wasn’t sure you would feel the same.” He smiled and put his arms around you, relaxing his back on the couch. “And seeing how you treat me… It’s so much more than I thought I deserved.” He took in a deep breath.

           “You deserve the world, sweetheart. And I’ll give it to you if you’ll let me.” You nodded.

           “That sounds nice.”

           “Consider this our first date, then.”

           “Fine by me.” He picked a movie and the two of you sat back, a blanket over you, and you fell asleep against him as the movie played, feeling safer with him than you ever did with your ex.

A/N: I am literally so soft for this idea so I hope you like it as much as I do because omg! Thank you anon!

Taglist (if you’d like to be added, let me know!): @an-adventureland, @firstangeldragonranch, @ssebstann, @winterreader-nowwriter, @eviemarvel 

[aerynwrites]

Different

Arthur Fleck/Joker x Reader

Request: “Hey! Would you be able to write a that basically starts with the scene in joker where Arthur is getting jumped but a woman who lives in his building helps him and gets him cleaned up. Arthur mistakes her kindness and her liking him and he starts following her around and eventually becomes obsessive over her? Thanks! ☺️” request by: @sequinedsuplexes

Warnings: mentions of violence, cursing, threatening behavior? stalking.

Word Count: 2k

Author’s Note: it wouldn’t let me tag the requester so i hope you see this! Also i kinda had a hard time writing this not gonna lie, lol, but i hope it’s not too terrible. Let me know how I did! also I did not proofread this since i’m at work so sorry :/

---------

You sigh as walk down the street towards your apartment, it was another dreary day in the wonderful place of Gotham. You had just finished with your shift at the hospital and were excited to get home and cook dinner then go to bed. You were fantasizing about the pasta you were going to make when you were almost knocked over by a group of kids running out of an alleyway laughing.

“Hey! Be careful!” you call out catching yourself from falling.

The only response you get is loud laughter as they continue to run away. You roll your eyes and adjust your self before casting a glance at the alleyway they came from. You had to take a second look before you noticed the figure lying on the ground curled in on itself. You walk quickly down the damp alley trying not to trip on any stray garbage bags.

“Hello? Are you alright?” you call before you reach the person.

You see them startle slightly at your voice and start to sit up with some difficulty. You quickened your pace until you were next to them and helped them to their feet. You were caught off guard to see the man dressed in a clown suit, makeup and all. You brushed aside your initial surprise and grabbed his upper arm, steadying his lanky frame.

“Sir, where do you live? I can walk you home and make sure you get there okay.” He looks at you warily, so you point to your name badge, “I work at Arkham hospital as an ER nurse, I promise I have nothing but good intentions.” You smile warmly.

Arthur is baffled. He can’t believe someone is actually going out of their way to help him, especially with the way he’s dressed. He nods slowly and tells you his address and you smile.

“I just so happen to live in the same building, so this works out pretty well actually.”

Arthur is surprised at this information, you don’t look like the type to live where he does, you look pretty well off to be living in his shabby apartment building. But he brushes this off and follows your lead out of the alley.

“Thank you” he mumbles quietly.

You look at him and give a small smile, “It’s not a problem, I couldn’t just leave you there after what those kids did.”

Neither of you say much else on the short walk back to your building or the elevator ride to your floor. You both just so happen to live on the same floor too, who knew? You have Arthur go back to his apartment and wash off his makeup from work before meeting you back at your apartment since that is where you had all your medical supplies. When he arrives, he awkwardly steps in your apartment and he is instantly met with the smell of cooking and burning candles. This place looks nothing like his apartment. It’s well furnished and decorated, clearly you pay attention to details.

“You can sit on the couch if you’d like Arthur” you say as you stir the pasta quickly.

He looks at you suspiciously, “How’d you know my name?”

you chuckle, “I’ve hard your mom yelling goodbye to you before when you leave. I just didn’t recognize you earlier in your makeup is all.”

Arthur nods and takes a seat on the couch, the only reason he knew your name was from your name badge, but the minute he read it he was instantly taken with you. (Y/N) was a beautiful name.

He was brought from his thoughts by you sitting on the coffee table in front of him and looking at his face, examining it. He felt his heart stutter as he caught your eyes and had to look away to keep himself from blushing. He felt your soft fingers grasp his chin gently and move his face to the side slightly. You let go and shrug lightly.

“Well your nose doesn’t look broken, and that was the only thing I noticed was bleeding earlier. Does anything else bother you?” you ask politely, a warm smile gracing your face.

Arthur was absolutely captured by your smile. It was so radiant and seems to draw him in. and your lips…well he would say many things about them.

You snapped your fingers in front of his face, giggling slightly, “Earth to Arthur!” once you had his attention again asked again, “does anything else bother you?”

Arthur felt a blush creep up on his cheeks at the thought of you catching him staring but shook his head anyway.

“No” he said sheepishly, “I think I’m fine other than that.”

You nod and stand up heading to the kitchen, “well then my work is done, “Arthur heard you banging around in the kitchen momentarily before you reemerged carrying a Tupperware container.

He stood quickly as you offered it out to him, “It’s some alfredo I made. I made way too much so I figured you could have some to go.” He took the container from your hands, once again noticing the never ceasing smile on your face.

“Thank you,” he said again, “For everything.”

You keep smiling as you lead him towards the door and he steps out, turning to you.

“It was no problem. Have a good night Arthur.” You said sweetly, closing the door.

In that moment Arthur knew you were the one. He knew he had to have you; you were just too perfect to let go. He smiled and walked to his apartment dinner in hand.

---------

What was he doing? God he’s such a fucking creep, he thought to himself. Arthur was currently seated in the crowded ER waiting area, watching as you guide assuredly across the hospital floor. You were steadfast in your tasks, helping patient after patient never wavering.

This had become a routine for Arthur on his off days. Wake up, get dressed, follow you to the coffee shop. Watch. Follow you to the subway. Watch. Follow you to work. Watch. Follow you on your after-work errands and then it ended where it all started; at your apartment.

He hated himself for doing this. He knew It was wrong and creepy, but he couldn’t help himself. He was obsessed with you, and from what he could tell you liked him too. With your constant smiles when you would pass in the hallways, your small talk in the elevator, it had to be mutual right? Or else you wouldn’t even look at him, right?

His daily routine was interrupted however when he got fired from his job. When he killed those three men, they had ruined his plans. He was frantic, he didn’t know where to turn.

So, he turned to you.

You hadn’t heard him arrive. You were in the shower when he waltzed in your apartment, clown makeup still on, and took a seat on your couch, staring absentmindedly at the television.

You turned the shower off and stepped out, drying off and wrapping your robe around yourself. Today was another agonizing day at work and you wanted nothing more than to finally break open your bottle of wine and watch rom coms. You opened your bathroom door and walked to the living room, stopping dead in your tracks at the figure sitting on your couch.

You gasped, alerting Arthur to your presence. He turned slightly and you noticed the smeared makeup still on his face.

“Arthur what are you doing here?” You asked, voice trembling.

“I had a bad day.” Was all he said.

You felt yourself shaking as you slowly started to inch your way towards your kitchen which was next to the apartment door.

“Arthur what are you doing in my apartment?” you tried to put force behind this question, but it just came out as a measly squeak.

Arthur turned to face you fully now and it did nothing but put more fear in your heart. You could see red splattered on his coat as well as the side of his face. What had he done?

“I told you,” he ground out, getting more upset at your refusal to help, “I had a bad day!” as he finished his exclamation he burst out into maniacal laughter.

You felt your chest heaving up and down trying to keep up with your frantic breathing. What this fuck is going on? You realized in this moment that Arthur was beyond any help that you were qualified to give. You reach for the landline resting on the table next to your door and pick it up.

“I’m sorry Arthur, but I-I don’t t-think I can’t help you with the problems you’re having” you say, fighting back the tears burning at the back of your eyes, “But I can call someone who can help, I have connections at the hospital.” You assured.

You just wanted him out of your apartment. Now.

At this suggestion Arthur bolted from his seat and took two large steps towards you, “Nobody can help me!” he bellows, “No one listens!”

You felt tears fall down your cheeks as complete and utter fear took over you, “Arthur please,” you sobbed, “Please leave, I’m sorry, I’m sorry if I made you upset” you could no longer keep your voice steady, but you managed to fling the apartment door open and point firmly.

“You need to leave, now.”

Arthur looked from you to the door, then back to you, betrayal filling his eyes. Did you not understand? He knew you liked him back. He just knew it.

He stepped back slightly his demeanor changing slightly, not as angry as before.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he apologized, “I only came here because I know you understand, and I know you would help me.”

You didn’t say anything, his words not calming you in the slightest. He continued.

“We’re meant for each other, don’t you see!” he took a step towards you slightly, “When you helped me, I knew in that moment that you weren’t like the rest of them.” A hopeful look overcame his features as he reached for your hand.

You jerked away and shook your head, “Arthur I was just being nice!” you explained, “That’s what normal people do, they be nice to one another.”

Arthur felt his despair come back slowly as you continued to explain.

“I don’t- “you debated on whether to tell him the truth, afraid it would set him off, “I don’t like you like that Arthur, we’re just neighbors.” You gasp out, “I’m sorry.”

Arthur felt what little sanity he had left break; he was wrong you were like the rest. Cruel, mean, heartless.

He straightened up and you flinched slightly afraid of what he would do, but he just walked swiftly out of your apartment slamming the door behind him. You frantically moved to lock the locks on the door and fell the floor tears of shock sliding down your face. You knew in that moment you would have to move, Arthur clearly had something medical going on, and you did not want o find out what would happen if something went wrong. But right now, you just sat in front of your door, curled in a ball trying to process what had happened.

Arthur strode furiously from your apartment, betrayal filling his heart. He thought you were different. He thought you would understand.

But, in his mind, you were just the same as everyone else in this cruel world.

[prettyboyreid]

One of them is fine you can choose whichever one

Do you know how lucky one would have to be to actually be friends with benefits with Dr. Spencer Reid?

The man has a lot of worries about germs, seems absolutely innocent in all sexual aspects, and didn’t even have his first kiss until he was twenty-four years old. 

Basically, you consider yourself to be the luckiest person in the entire world. 

Every Friday night he was home he, without fail, knocked on your door at 9:45 p.m.  If he wasn’t home on Friday, he came over the second his plane landed.  

You knew Spencer for a few years; he frequented the Smithsonian Museum you worked at, as if he needed to learn anything more.  He was one of those people who always asked you questions about every little detail, which you never thought twice about until you found he only asked you questions.  If it turned out you weren’t working, he was the quietest patron in the building. 

It took him a while to finally build up the courage to ask you on a date.  Almost a year of him coming in and asking some of the same questions over and over.  Of course, you said yes, and he took you to one of the nicest restaurants you’d ever been to.  He was the perfect gentleman the entire night, from picking you up to always pulling out your chair to paying for the meal (despite your hesitations.)

The best part of the night, however, was when you made it back to his apartment.  You had slept with a few guys over the years, but somehow Spencer had been better than all of them.  He put you first the entire time, letting his head and hands rest between your thighs twice before he even thought about getting himself off.  Even when he did, he constantly made sure you were okay and you were feeling just as good as he was. 

(You were.)

The next morning, you woke up to an empty bed.  You found the entire apartment to be empty besides yourself and a fish tank in the living room.  He left you a note on a piece of notebook paper in his kitchen, telling you he got a case for work and had to leave.  He told you where some breakfast food was and gave you permission to use the shower, and left a key so you’d be able to lock up when you left. 

You didn’t want to eat any of his food, and you felt awkward using his shower, so you just got dressed and left.  You texted him later and asked when he wanted you to return the key, but he told you to hold onto it.

“I was hoping you’d need to use it again.”

That simple phrase set your entire arrangement in motion.  

You’d been doing this… thing for almost two years now, and it always worked out.  

Until now.

You sat in your bathroom with a positive pregnancy test in your shaking hands, wondering what to even do next.  You were twenty five years old, and he was two years older than you.  You weren’t even technically together!  What were you supposed to do?

Thankfully, the loud ringing of your phone distracted you, and you quickly picked it up and answered with a groggy “Hello?”

“Y/N?”  Spencer asked.

Shit.  “Yeah what’s up?” you replied, shoving the pregnancy test in one of your bathroom drawers so it could be out of sight and, hopefully, out of mind. 

“I just landed.  I know it’s not Friday and it’s certainly not late, but I wanted to know if I could still come over,” he said, the sound of his keys jingling on the other line muffled by his voice.

“Uh…” you started, looking around the bathroom before down at your feet anxiously.  “Yeah, but would you mind if we just talked?  I’m not feeling too hot right now,” you told him, scratching at the back of his neck.

“Of course, that’s fine.  Everything okay?  Do you need me to pick anything up on my way over?”  Always putting you first.  You had a feeling this wouldn’t be as easy as you thought. 

“No, yeah, I just… I just need to talk to you, that’s all,” you said, heading out of the bathroom and towards the kitchen.  You figured you should probably at least fix something to eat for the two of you as you filled a pot with water before setting it on the stove to boil.

“Okay, I’ll be over in about ten minutes,” he informed you.  You could hear his car revving to life on the other line. 

“Alright.  See you then,” you said, hanging up the phone before letting out a heavy sigh.  

The water didn’t take long to boil, and the pasta you poured into the pot was about halfway done before you heard a heavy knock on the door before Spencer walked into your apartment.  He looked around the quiet living space for a moment before he spotted you on the other side of the kitchen counter.  He smiled a bit, closing the door behind him as he joined you in the kitchen.  You raised your eyebrows as you saw him walking on a pair of crutches.

“Hey, how was your case?” you asked, stirring the spaghetti before turning all of your attention to him.  He shrugged his coat off with a sigh before draping it over one of the kitchen stools, sitting on top of it with a soft grunt before shrugging softly. 

“Not too good.  I don’t really wanna talk about it,” he said, resting the crutches against the counter.  You nodded softly, knowing that was his usual answer to that question.

“What happened to your leg?  I don’t remember seeing that last week,” you asked, flicking off the flame on the stove as you got a colander out of the cupboard.

“I got shot earlier this week on a case.  It’s nothing big, just a little uncomfortable,” he replied simply, watching as you began to strain the spaghetti.  “So… what did you want to talk about?” he asked.  

You chewed on the inside of your cheek, hating how he never beat around the bush.  You got out two plates, scooping the pasta evenly onto each one before sitting next to him. 

“Can you promise me that you won’t get upset?” you asked, handing him some parmesan cheese.  You knew it was a lot to ask of him, especially given the news you were about to dump on him, but he nodded nonetheless. 

“I’ll do my best.  What’s up?” he asked, pulling his grown out hair out of his face.

You let out a sigh, fiddling with the hem of your shirt as you figured out the best way to word it.  He wasn’t looking at you, which made it a bit easier to blurt out, “I’m pregnant.”

He paused any and all motions for a moment at the news, blinking a few times before setting the parmesan cheese down on the counter. 

“Oh…” he said, tucking some hair behind his ear as he looked down at his plate.  He couldn’t look at you right now, and you felt like you couldn’t blame him. 

“A-and about the baby… it’s yours,” you finished, running your hands over your legs as you spoke.  You probably didn’t need to say the last part, but he may have needed to hear it. 

He was silent.  It was a painful silence, and you hated how much he could hide his expressions.  You just wanted to know what he thought.  You would prefer to have him say he wanted nothing to do with you and walk out of the apartment than this. 

“Do you want to have the baby?” he asked, his gaze still fixed on the plate in front of him.  You let out a sigh, running your hands back through your hair in relief. 

“I don’t know.  I wanted to talk to you first,” you told him, taking your bottom lip between your teeth.  “I just found out today, and I know we’re both young so I completely get it if you don’t want anything to do with them or with me-”

“Y/N,” he said, looking in your eyes as he spoke.  He held your hands in his, and his eyes gleamed as if they were smiling on their own.  “I would never say that,” he told you, running his thumbs over your knuckles.  “I’ll be here for you for whatever you want.  I’ll hold your hand at every appointment, and I’ll help you find adoption centers or I’ll help you pick out cribs.  I don’t care what you want to do, but I’ll support you through everything.  I promise,” he told you, pulling you into a hug.

You felt a few stray tears slip down your cheeks as you hugged him back, burying your face into his shoulder as you let out a sigh.  “I don’t know what to do, Spence,” you said through a shaky breath.  You always wanted kids, and you knew he did, but you didn’t want to ruin his career with a child.  Not right now. 

“You don’t need to know right now,” he said, kissing the top of your head.  He rubbed soft circles on your back to calm you a bit more.  “We’ll figure it out together.”

[eeveedel]

Can you write harry being a lil insecure about gaining weight and he’s scared that Louis wouldn’t want to be with him so he starts to not eat as much work out and try’s to eat salads and that he absolutely hates, Louis notices so he plans a night where he body praises him etc smut an fluff would be nice

I love this prompt and I also got a request on twitter last week to write chubby Harry and Louis on a dinner date so I decided to combine them. This baby is LONG so I hope you like it!

This is in the same verse to my first chubby harry drabble but it’s set before the events of that drabble. 

Important warnings: this contains chubby kink, food kink, eating kink (is that a thing?), and body insecurity. If that is triggering to you please don’t read, I want you all to stay safe. Love you all sm xx 

–

It was only Louis’s third date with Harry, and yet he already felt himself falling embarrassingly hard.

He had asked Harry out for lunch a week after the alpha had spilled his drink on him at a New Year’s Eve party, and since then every one of Louis’s January weekends had been booked and his phone was always full of short texts from Harry asking if he was having a good day. Louis felt stupid, teenage-like butterflies whenever he read one of those texts, but he didn’t even care. It was a new year, and he was dating a cute, funny, sweet alpha. He was allowed to be a little ridiculous.

Their third date was at an Italian restaurant downtown, and Harry had brought Louis flowers, which the waiter had put in a vase for them at the table because Harry apparently chose restaurants that believed in true love. The alpha was wearing a black turtleneck and a pair of blue jeans, which was what he had worn to every other date they had been on, and had his legs spread wide as he sat across the table and flicked through the menu. He wanted to know all about Louis’s master’s program and his teaching assistant position, which he claimed was far more interesting than his own job as a paralegal. Louis was rambling and maybe drinking his wine a little too fast, and was very caught up in how handsome Harry looked with his freshly shaved face and his tousled hair, that he almost missed the waiter coming over to take their orders.

“Oh, fuck, sorry,” Louis said once he realized the poor server was standing next to their table patiently waiting for Louis to notice him, “Can I get the red pepper eggplant parmesan?”

 “Of course,” the waiter nodded, scribbling down on his pad before turning to Harry, “And for you, sir?”

 “Um, can I just get a Caesar salad?” Harry asked, “No croutons, dressing on the side?”

Louis frowned, remembering how fifteen minutes earlier Harry had told him how hungry he was.

“I thought you said you didn’t eat lunch,” Louis blurted out, and Harry glanced at him.

“Oh,” Harry said, “I’m just not hungry today in general, really. So just a salad’s fine.”

The waiter finished writing down the rest of Harry’s order, and then gave them both a quick smile before leaving them alone again. Harry launched back into asking Louis questions about his job, and the omega tried to answer the best he could without letting his thoughts run away from him.  

Louis didn’t want to push Harry that much. But he had definitely noticed that when they went out, the other man usually got a salad or a small appetizer as his main course, never touched the basket of bread rolls, and never wanted to get anything after dinner. He had mentioned to Louis more than a few times that he was on a diet, and Louis wasn’t about to question that. He really didn’t care if Harry wanted to lose weight, that was his business, even if Louis admittedly found the alpha’s extra weight ridiculously sexy.

But the thing was, it was clear that Harry was still hungry when they had dinner. There were more than a few times he’d heard the other man’s stomach audibly grumble after he’d finished eating and he had coughed loudly to cover it up.  He also always frowned just a bit, only for a moment, before he ordered his small meals. Diet or no diet, Louis didn’t want him to be hungry.

The dinner went by with Harry picking at his salad unenthusiastically and asking Louis lots of questions. The alpha was funny and charming enough to distract for another half an hour, but when the waiter came back around to ask if they needed anything, Louis once again became hyper aware of the way Harry’s lips twitched just a bit, like he wanted to frown.

“You want some dessert?” Louis asked, “We could split something.”

“Oh, I shouldn’t,” Harry said, turning to him, “On that diet, you know, for New Year’s.”

“Oh. Right,” Louis said, “That’s fine, then. I’ll just have a bowl of vanilla ice cream, please. And an iced latte.”

“Oh, I’ll take a cup of black coffee,” Harry said, “Thanks.”

Ten minutes later, Louis had his ice cream and they both had their drinks, and Louis couldn’t ignore that Harry was watching him closely as he ate. Louis lifted his head to look at him, frowning at the alpha.

“Do I have something on my face?” Louis asked, and Harry shook his head.

“Oh, no, you’re good,” Harry said, and then picked up his coffee to take another sip. Louis noticed his eyes flick down to Louis’s half-melted bowl of dessert, and Louis picked up his spoon.

“Do you want some?” Louis said, and Harry shook his head.

“M’not hungry,” he said quickly.

“S’just a spoonful,” Louis said, “Really, it’s – “

“I’m really not hungry,” Harry cut in, a bit loud.

Louis blinked at him, and Harry’s cheeks colored as he took a sip of his coffee.

“Sorry,” he said, “Uh. I’m allergic to vanilla. Um. Yeah. Allergy.”

“Oh,” Louis said, “Sorry, I didn’t know.”

“It’s fine,” Harry gave him a weak smile, “Uh, you never got to tell me about that class you’re thinking about teaching in the fall?”

“Oh, yeah, sure,” Louis said, and set his spoon down. He started to launch into another rant about graduate school, and Harry nodded and laughed along, but he was still stealing glances at Louis’s sad, melted ice cream.

So when the waiter took away their plates and cups and gave Harry the check, Louis made a decision. He had known this alpha for only a month or so, but he wasn’t going to let him be hungry, so help him God.

**

For their fourth date, Louis invited Harry over to his apartment and said was going to cook, his treat. Louis needed cooking practice anyways; he had started taking classes on the weekends so he could move beyond being in his mid twenties and relying on instant noodles and granola bars to live. He also figured maybe being in Louis’s apartment rather than out in public might help Harry loosen up a bit.

Harry gladly agreed and they set a date, which meant that the next Friday, Louis was tied to his kitchen all day. As the time of their date drew closer, he had finally gotten around to spreading out everything on the table, and he checked again to make sure it was all hot. He had spent all afternoon working on it, so if it wasn’t all perfect he was going to lose his mind.

He wasn’t sure what Harry’s favorite foods were; he had barely seen him eat anything that wasn’t soup or salad and maybe some snacks at parties. So he had gone with some American comfort foods and hoped they would do the trick; ribs covered in sweet barbeque sauce, mashed potatoes, cornbread, fried green beans, a chocolate cake and an apple pie. So maybe the cake and the pie were bakery-bought, but he thought it was still fairly impressive on his part.

Louis was still fiddling with the table when the door bell rang, and he nearly sprinted to answer it.

He opened the door slowly, just peaking out from behind the door as it cracked open. Once he saw Harry in the hall, he opened the door fully and grinned. The alpha was dressed in a proper button down tonight, bright blue, along with a pair of dark jeans and loafers. He smiled back at Louis, then held up the bottle of red wine that he had clasped in one fist.

“Hi,” he said, “I didn’t, um, know if you had anything, so I thought I’d bring something to drink.”

“That’s so sweet, thank you,” Louis said, “I, uh, have half a box of wine in my fridge but that’s probably not a very classy move.”

Louis ushered Harry inside and closed the door behind him, then awkwardly came back around to take the bottle of wine from Harry.

“You look really nice,” Louis blurted out, “I like your shirt.”

“Oh, thanks,” Harry said, and tugged on the hem of his shirt a bit, “And you…you look lovely.”

Louis gripped the bottle of wine tighter. He was wearing all black with a pair of mismatched patterned socks because he had been too focused on getting dinner ready to dress up properly, but Harry sounded so sincere he nearly blushed.

“Let me pour us some drinks and then we can eat, I set everything out,” Louis eventually said when words came back to him.

He brought Harry to the kitchen to pour out the wine and have a quick toast, and then led the alpha to his small dining nook. Harry stopped in the doorway between the kitchen and the dining room, and his mouth hung open for a few minutes before he properly spoke.

“Oh, wow, Louis…I thought you were just making, like, pasta or something, I didn’t know – “

Louis shrugged, “I thought it would be fun.”

He moved to sit down, and Harry followed him, still staring a bit wide-eyed at the food. Louis picked up the bowl of mashed potatoes and put some on his own plate while he looked at Harry.

“You can just grab anything. I don’t want it to get cold.”

Louis got half way through putting all the food on his own plate, but Harry still hadn’t moved and his plate was empty. Louis frowned, tilting his head.

“Is something wrong?”

Harry’s head snapped up at that, and he opened his mouth.

“No, it looks good, I just,” Harry stuttered, “Might not have a lot because I’m – I’m on that diet.”

“Harry,” Louis cut in, his voice strong enough to surprise himself. Harry looked at him with wide eyes, and Louis nervously swallowed before he spoke.

“Harry, I want you to be able to eat whatever you want with me,” Louis said, “It doesn’t matter to me what you eat, or how much, or whatever. I don’t care. I really don’t. And I know you aren’t happy eating those salads when we go out, so if you want to eat what’s here, eat what’s here. Please.”

Harry just looked at him, his eyes still round, and then he finally stuttered.

“You mean that?”

“Yes, I do,” Louis said, and picked up his glass of wine, “Now, I kind of spent five hours cooking today, so please, for the love of God, dig in.”

Harry just stared at him for a moment longer, and then he gave Louis a small smile.

“Well, um, thank you,” he said. The alpha finally picked up the dishes one by one, filling his plate, and then he finally grabbed his fork.

Harry started with the potatoes first, digging his fork carefully into the mound on his plate. He took small bites, his mouth closing a bit too hard around the fork as he ate slowly.

“Oh, wow, these are really good,” he said as he picked up another forkful, “I didn’t know you could cook.”

“I started taking a night class this month,” Louis admitted, “My New Year’s resolution was to not starve on my own anymore.”

“Well, it’s paying off,” Harry said, and Louis smiled.

Harry picked up one of the ribs next. He bit down hard on the meat outside, and then immediately moaned so loudly Louis felt his chest flutter.

“Holy fuck,” Harry sighed, “Louis, you gotta tell me where those cooking classes are, this is crazy.”

He took another bite, and then another one, quick after each other. There was sauce on the corner of Harry’s mouth now, but he didn’t seem to notice as he polished off the rib.

“You got a little – “ Louis said weakly, but Harry didn’t seem to notice because he had moved onto the other rib on his plate. He finished it just as quickly, and when he was done there was a bigger smear of sauce on his mouth and on his chin, as well as on his hands.

“Louis, this is crazy,” Harry said, picking up his fork again to dig into the rest of his mashed potatoes. He glanced at the omega and shifted a brow, “Why aren’t you eating anything?”

“Oh,” Louis said, and then looked down at his still-full plate, “Guess, uh, I was worried I put in all that work and it didn’t even taste good.”

“It tastes incredible, really,” Harry said. He had finished off his potatoes, and reached for the bowl in the middle to put more on his plate, “Seriously, have some.”

“Uh,” Louis managed, and then picked up a wedge of cold cornbread off his plate and nibbled on it.

Harry was starting in on his third rib, and then moving onto the fried green beans, and then ripping apart the pieces of cornbread on his plate. He was eating fast, and he kept fucking moaning in what Louis assumed was the same way he moaned when he was having sex, and there was sauce and crumbs all over his face and he looked flushed and happy for once while eating and –

Louis was getting turned on.

He was an awful freak of a person but he was getting turned on. He had cooked for an alpha, provided for him, made him happy, and that was turning me on. It was all very 1950’s and backwards and he didn’t really give a shit, because Harry was getting a fourth rib and a third scoop of mashed potatoes and life was great.

Louis had managed to get through one rib and a small serving of potatoes by the time Harry tapped out and leaned back in his chair, sighing loudly.

“You’ve been holding out on me,” Harry said, “Holy shit, you should’ve invited me over on date one.”

The alpha reached up, rubbing his belly with one hand, and Louis felt his fork slip out of his fingers and fall to the plate. Two of Harry’s top shirt buttons were spread tight, a bit of his pale skin showing through, and he was just sighed and rubbing his stomach happily.

“It’s – it’s just something new I tried out,” Louis croaked out.

“Well, your first try was incredible,” Harry said, “Seriously, I feel like I should undo my belt – “

“Let’s watch a movie!” Louis said, and picked up his plate. He reached out and took Harry’s, too, and Harry just looked at him.

“Movie?” he asked, and Louis nodded.

“Yeah, I thought we could watch a movie,” he explained, “Thought that would be fun. I got Hulu Premium so. No ads anymore, woo.”

Harry just looked at him, and shrugged.

“Sure, sounds fine by me,” he said.

“Great!” Louis said, “I’ll go put the food away and then you can pick something out.”

He left the dining room quickly, and then dropped the plates into the sink. He turned the tap on, letting water rush onto them, but he had no intention to clean them yet. He just gripped the sink, shaking his head.

Was he a bad person? Did he have a weird fetish now? Was he objectifying Harry?

No, no. That was crazy. Finding a chubby alpha attractive is not a fetish. That would be fucked up. He wasn’t a bad person for thinking Harry was very, very hot, not in spite of his weight but because of it.

So why was he losing his mind over watching Harry eat? Why was he getting hot everywhere at the mere thought of the being able to open up all of Harry’s too-tight buttons and riding the alpha into the fucking sunset?

“Louis?” Harry called, and Louis pressed his hands over his face.

“Uh huh?” he called back.

“You good in there? Need help?”

“Oh no, no, I’m fine!” Louis shouted back, and then shut off the water that was close to flooding his sink, “Just – give me a sec.”

He rushed back into the dining room, and then as quickly as he could he brought all the food back into the kitchen, covered it in plastic wrap, and managed to shove it all into his fridge. The fridge door barely closed, but he managed to make it work. When it was shut he straightened himself up, smoothed down his shirt and hair, and then went back into the living room.

Harry was on the sofa, Louis’s TV remote in one of his big heads. He had his legs casually spread and one big arm slung over the back of the sofa, and he smiled when Louis came in.

“Hey, I found this new rom com, I don’t know if you’re into that, but personally I love – “

“That sounds great,” Louis agreed, and quickly sat down on the couch as well. He so, so badly wanted to cuddle up into Harry’s side, but he didn’t know if that was proper fourth date etiquette, so he just stayed close to Harry but respectfully far, just touching Harry’s arm as he leaned back. Harry gave him a quick look, but didn’t say anything.

Louis shot out a hand, patted Harry’s knee, and then retracted his hand lightning fast.

“’Kay, you can start the movie,” Louis said.

Harry nodded and pressed play on the remote, and the beginning credits of the movie started a few minutes later.

Louis tried to enjoy the film, but he just kept squirming in his seat, unable to get comfortable. He sat with his legs crossed, his knees tucked to his chin, both feet on the floor and his hands in his lap like he was in an Internet article on proper posture. None of it was comfortable, because he knew he really wanted to sit in Harry’s lap, press himself into his soft side, or at that very least move Harry’s arm so it was slung around Louis’s shoulders.

After about an hour of fidgeting around, he looked at Harry.

“Hey, I’m a bit peckish,” Louis said, “Do you want dessert?”

Harry glanced at him, and Louis was fully expecting him to say no. He had never had dessert with Louis before, and they had just finished eating an hour ago, and Harry had eaten a lot, and –

“Sure, that sounds good,” Harry said, “What do you have?”

“Chocolate cake?” Louis said, “Apple pie?”

“Oh, wow,” Harry said, “Homemade, too?”

“No, just store bought this time,” Louis said, “So I’m sure it’ll be far better than whatever you had at dinner.”

“Can’t even imagine that,” Harry grinned, “Sure. Do you mind getting a slice of each? I’ll nibble a bit at both.”

“Sure thing,” Louis said, and then promptly got up and scampered to the kitchen.

He got the cake and pie out of his already struggling fridge, then cut a thick slice of both the cake and the pie and set it on a plate. He also cut himself a thin slice of cake and then brought both plates into the living room. He handed Harry his dessert, and the alpha looked up at him, confused.

“Is this all for me?” he asked, and Louis nodded.

“Sorry, I’m really shit at cutting decent portions,” he said, “You don’t have to eat all of it.”

Harry just nodded, and Louis sat down next to him, digging into his cake. He tried to focus on the screen, but instead, his eyes kept flicking back to Harry.

Because Harry was eating quickly again, and he was making those fucking noises. Those moaning noises, if not a bit hushed now. He was alternating bites between the cake and the pie, fork digging between moist chocolate and golden brown apples. Louis managed to swallow down all his cake, and still, he just held his plate in his lap and watched Harry eat all his dessert. When he was done he sighed happily, and then glanced at Louis.

“Sorry, could you get me one more little slice of the pie?” he asked, and his cheeks colored, “I didn’t eat lunch today, and it’s so good.”

“Sure thing!” Louis said a bit too quickly. His skin was heating up again, and he went back to the kitchen. He cut into the pie again, a slice that probably was not little, but Harry didn’t protest when Louis brought it to him. He picked up his fork again and ate his pie, hunched forward as he somehow managed to still focus on the movie.

When he was done he set the plate on the coffee table, next to Louis’s equally empty cake plate, and then licked at a bit of sugar on his thumb. He sat back, leaning into the couch again, and that’s when Louis heard the weakest little pop.

It came to him in pieces. He saw something small hit his coffee table and then fall onto his carpet. He stared at it, and the longer he stared the clearer it was that it was a button. A little, pearly button. And then he looked back at Harry, whose eyes were wide and cheeks were bright red, and he realized the button on the floor looked the same as the buttons on Harry’s shirt.

And there was now one button missing, right in the center of Harry’s belly. The gap left behind was wide, revealing pale skin, but it was quickly covered by Harry’s hands.

“Oh my god,” he gasped out, “Oh my god, fuck. Fucking fuck.”

Louis just stared at the alpha, who had gone beet red.

“I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have eaten that much, that’s so fucking disgusting, I – “

But before Harry could anything else, Louis had swung himself into the alpha’s lap and grabbed his face in his hands.

“Harry,” Louis said, his voice rushed out, “I really, really need to kiss you right now.”

Harry started at him with wide eyes, his mouth open.

“You – what?”

“I need your mouth on my mouth. I need our tongues to battle. God, Jesus, let me fucking kiss you.”

“I – “ Harry choked out, “Sure, yeah, okay.”

“Oh, thank fuck,” Louis breathed out, and then was leaned forward, pressing his mouth hard to Harry’s.

The alpha was slow to respond at first, his lips barely moving, and then he was kissing Louis back hard. His mouth still tasted like sweet apples and chocolate, and his lips moved fast and hungrily, kissing Louis hard. His tongue flicked at Louis’s lips, and the omega gasped, leaning in to kiss him harder. He felt Harry’s big hands on his back, clawing at Louis’s shirt, and Louis groaned weakly. He pulled his mouth away form Harry’s lips, and instead started kissing his round cheek instead.

“God, you’re so hot,” he breathed out, “You’re unfairly, stupidly, illegally hot.”

“I – I am?” Harry said, and Louis groaned.

“Yes, you dumb, dumb alpha. I wanted to fuck you the moment you spilled your drink on me at Niall’s party,” Louis said, “Did you not catch on to me nearly presenting to you on the couch right before the bloody New Year’s ball dropped?”

“You – you wanted to fuck me?” Harry choked out.

“I wanted you to fuck me, but close enough.”

“Why?”

Louis stopped kissing Harry’s face, and just pulled back, frowning.

“What do you mean, why?” Louis said, “Because you’re a tall, gorgeous alpha and my biology makes me want to fuck tall, gorgeous alphas. Also you’re funny and sweet and – Jesus Christ, Harry, why wouldn’t I want to fuck you?”

“Seriously?” Harry said, and his voice sounded weak as he stared at Louis, “Louis, I’m fat.”

Louis just stared at him, and then brought his hand down and slipped it into the empty space where Harry’s button had broken. He felt the warm skin under, and he bit the inside of his cheek as he gently squeezed the flesh underneath.

“Harry,” Louis said slowly, “I don’t know if you’ve picked up on this, but I really, really like the way your body looks.”

Harry blinked at him, his big eyes confused, and he frowned.

“But why?”

“Again with the fucking questions, Harry, Jesus,” Louis sighed, “I don’t know why. I just think you’re fucking hot and your belly is hot and your thighs are hot and your ass is hot and your hands are hot and just – I don’t have a reason, it just is what it is.”

When Louis was done he was panting weakly, and Harry was still staring at him.

“Oh,” he managed, “That’s – oh.”

He was quiet for a moment, and then looked up at Louis again.

“I used to be skinny, you know,” he said, “Like, really skinny. And – uh – no one’s really wanted to go out with me since I gained weight, so – “

Louis swallowed thickly, and then held Harry’s face in his both his hands again.

“Fucking idiots,” he breathed out, “Idiots, all of them.”

He pulled back a bit, taking a second to scan Harry’s body.

“I mean…who the hell would turn down all of this.”

He squeezed Harry’s broad shoulders, then his soft biceps, then his hands went down, and he rested them on the tight, round swell of the alpha’s stomach, and his mouth went dry.

“All of…this…”

He stared for a bit too long, and he realized what was happening a second after Harry gasped weakly.

“Lou – Louis,” the alpha stuttered out, “Are you wet?”

Louis blinked.

“I think I am.”

“Oh my god,” Harry got out, and then grabbed Louis’s waist, leaning forward, “Oh my god.”

He was about to press his mouth to Louis’s again, but Louis brought his hand up before he could.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Louis said, pressing his finger to Harry’s lips, “Level with me. You’re not on a diet, are you?”

“I’m really not,” Harry said, and his eyes went wide again, “I’m also not allergic to vanilla. That was a lie, the other night. I fucking love vanilla ice cream.”

“God, you’re so stupid,” Louis sighed, “I want your dick in me.”

He choked after he said it, his eyes going wide, and Harry just stared back at him for a few moments. And then suddenly Harry was grabbing Louis around the waist and standing up from the couch, hoisting Louis up with him. Louis yelped and squeezed his thighs tight around Harry’s middle, staring down at the alpha.

“Bedroom,” Harry said, “Where’s your bedroom.”

“I – “ Louis said, “I have like two rooms in this apartment, it’s right there,” he said, and feebly pointed to the door on his left. Harry gave it a glance and then tightened his grip on Louis’s waist. He started to move towards the bedroom, but then Louis’s eyes widened and he tapped Harry’s shoulder.

“Wait!” Louis yelped, and Harry looked at him nervously.

“What?”

“Pause the movie,” Louis said, “If you let it autoplay my recommendations will be fucked up for days.”

Harry just stared for a moment, and then chuckled and grabbed the remote off the couch and paused the TV. When he was done he kissed Louis on the forehead.

“You’re so cute,” Harry sighed, “I’m going to fuck the shit out of you.”

And God.

Louis had missed being stupid, ridiculously, grossly in love.

[crazy-little-cool-cat]

Hand In Glove - Chapter 3 | Ben Hardy x OFC

A/N: Hi, hello, so I guess that when I'm sick and my house is falling apart I'm at my most creative? I know I just posted the sneak peek but I mean, come on. If it's done, it's done, why wait? Right? Yeah? Cool. Italics are Ben's POV

Word Count: 3,205. Sorry, not sorry.

Warnings: TOOTH ROTTING FLUFF. Chaotic Joe. Swearing. Again, not even sorry.

Chapter 1 , Chapter 2

"Hey. Yo. You're in my seat." Joe towered over Annabelle, who occupied his favourite chair in Gwil's flat, looking very unamused.

"Am I?" Annabelle didn't even look at him. She just stared straight at the big TV screen and took a sip from her bottle of beer, "oops."

"Annie, move!"

"No."

"No?" Joe was incredulous, his brows shooting so high they almost merged with his hairline, "no?!"

"No. As in, no," Annabelle finally glanced up at him, "I'm not moving."

"Oh, you're cute," Joe shook his head and licked his upper lip, biting his tongue and letting it stick out while he thought of a proper reaction, "seriously, get your butt out of my chair."

"It's not your chair, it's Gwil's."

"You're so annoying!"

"Have we never met before?" Annabelle smirked, "Hi, My name is Annabelle Lee, I'm annoying!"

"Ben?" Joe looked at his best friend with hopeful eyes, "control your woman?"

"No can do, mate," Ben shrugged and winked at Annie, "and she's no man's woman. I learnt that the hard way."

"Lover's tiff?" Gwil's ears seemed to perk up at the new information revealed, "already?"

"Shut up, Gwil," Annie and Ben said at the same time.

"No, no!" Rami hopped on the bandwagon, "I want to know too!"

"Annabelle, I'm serious, get the fuck up." Joe ignored the change of subject.

"Make me."

"My mom taught me not to hit girls, now get up."

"Ben was just very vocally jealous of Jamie, no big deal," Annie leaned to the side and looked at Rami, "it's water under the bridge."

"Annie!" Ben hissed.

"What?" Annie shrugged, "they would have found out eventually."

"Guys, stay focused," Joe clapped to gather everyone's attention, "Annie is ruining movie night!"

"Is it okay to finally say you're in a relationship, then?" Lucy blatantly ignored Joe's pleas and cries.

"No!" Ben and Annie groaned.

"Oh, come on!" Lucy looked at Rami for help, "what is wrong with these two!?"

"You know what?" Joe raised his arms up in defeat, "fine. Don't get up."

"Finally!" Annie sighed when Joe turned around and yelped when he threw himself on her, landing right in her lap, "What the bloody hell?!"

"Ah, I love my chair!

"Get off me!"

"Kids, stop fighting!" Gwil came back with two huge bowls of popcorn, "I leave the room for five minutes and this is what happens?"

"Tell him to get off, Gwil!"

"Nope, you brought this on yourself," Gwil went back to the kitchen for another bowl of popcorn and more drinks, "Oh, Jesus fucking Christ."

He looked at the chair Joe and Annie were fighting over just seconds ago, but now they sat together in perfect harmony, with Annie perched on Joe's lap, happily munching on a shared bowl of popcorn.

"What, you're okay with this?" Gwil gestured with his hand at the two while looking at Ben pointedly.

"Better him than Jamie," Ben shrugged, "sorry, mate."

"Damn girl, you smell nice!" Joe praised as he tickled Annie's ribs, making her giggle.

"Huh," Ben grabbed Annie's hand and pulled her over to him, making her spill some of the popcorn on the rug and squeal with laughter as she practically flew onto him, her body stretched over his lap with her feet kicking in the air, "that's better."

"Hey, I wasn't done playing with that!" Joe pouted at Ben and earned himself a smack on the back of his head from the angelic looking blond, "hey!!!"

"Hel-" my greeting was interrupted by a very eager kiss, "-lo."

"Hi."

"I missed you, too," I pulled Annabelle inside and kicked the door closed, taking her backpack from her and placing it on the floor, "hungry?"

"I could eat," she shrugged and knelt down to pick Frankie up in her arms, "hi, baby!"

"Pasta okay?" with a hand on the small of her back, I led her into the kitchen, "we can order in if you want."

"Tomato sauce?" her eyes brightened up.

"Yeah."

"Then it's perfect!"

"I have to warn you," I said as I took a plate out of the cupboard and lifted the lid off the pot, "once you've had some of my pasta, you'll be hooked."

"I'm willing to risk that," she put Frankie back down on the floor and walked over, leaning on the counter next to me, "smells delicious."

Annabelle looked absolutely knackered. Her cheeks weren't as rosy as they normally are, her skin looked paler than usual, her eyes were heavy and her shoulders slumped as she stifled a yawn.

"Long day?"

"Long week, you mean," she closed her eyes, "We're going to have to re-shoot three episodes. Not one," she poked three fingers up in the air with one hand and shoveled pasta in her mouth with the other, "three!"

"Yikes."

"And the producers chose the three most draining episodes, too!" she continued her rant after swallowing her mouthful and stuffed her face full of pasta yet again, chewing angrily and swallowing hard, "because they're all a bunch of morons."

"I'm sorry," I stroked her hair as she ate and felt her relax into my touch, "well, it's over now, yeah?"

"Not really, no," she sighed, "and I fucking missed you and I hated it."

"Really? I don't think mentioning you did about ten times a day in angry tests carried the message," I bit the inside of my cheek to stop myself from laughing at her exasperation, "but it's good that you did."

"No, it's not," she frowned, pushing her pasta around on her plate, "I just really wanted to see you, you know?"

"I wanted to see you, too," I massaged the back of her next with one hand, "and you're here, now."

"How was your day?" she turned to face me, "are the boys still teasing you?"

"Joe and Rami stopped, actually," she smiled at me and I could feel my heartbeat pick up, "Gwil is having a hard time accepting that this is happening."

"He'll get over it, eventually," she giggled.

"He told me some very, very interesting stories about you and some of his mates from way back," her eyes widened, and her cheeks flushed, "quite the handful, aren't you?"

"I regret nothing."

"Can you at least try to focus on me right now?" Jamie muttered as Annabelle and him ran their dance routine during one final rehearsal, in full costume, right before they had to shoot a scene, "I know you miss your new boyfriend -"

"He's not my boyfriend," Annabelle stopped moving, her turquoise eyes glaring into Jamie's baby blues as he towered over her, "and let me remind you, neither are you."

"Alright, I see you two have had just about enough of this," the choreographer snapped them out of their staring contest, "go get some touch-ups. I'll let everyone know you're ready."

Annabelle sighed and turned to her hair and make-up artists, the satin and silks on her dress rustling as they brushed the floor. As her make-up artist made small talk and her hairdresser fussed with the headdress that she had intricately woven into Annie's brown hair, the studio door opened, and Annie could hear her favourite boys' loud raucous flooding in.

"Well, that's a good-looking bunch!" Lilly, the hairdresser mumbled with a sly smile, "are they here for you?"

"Indeed, they are," Annie stuck out her chest proudly, "that's my cousin and his friends."

"That's the kid from East Enders!" Melissa, the make-up artist gushed as she finished her work, "Oh my gosh!"

"I'll introduce you if you want," Annie shrugged and chuckled when Melissa shook her head to fast, her glasses flew right off.

Annabelle turned to face Gwil, Joe and Ben, her face falling when she saw Rami and Lucy hadn't come along. She walked over to them, her smile lighting up the studio, smoothing down the front of her dress.

"Wow," Joe said, his eyes wide, "wow."

"You like it?" Annabelle smiled and twirled, looking over her shoulder to catch Ben's reaction.

"Understatement of the year," he smirked as his eyes raked her body from head to do, "you look amazing."

"Can you even breathe in that?" Gwil tilted his head, rubbing his chin thoughtfully, "it looks tight."

"It is," Annabelle shrugged, making her already ample cleavage more prominent with the movement and eliciting a gulp from Joe, "and I can."

"Places!" the director's booming voice drew Annabelle's attention back towards the set, "we have a job to do here!"

"Well, enjoy," Annabelle curtsied awkwardly, flashed Ben her lopsided smile and turned, lifting her skirts from the floor and running carefully to take her place.

All the of tension between Jamie and Annabelle seemed to dissipate as they got into their characters, seemingly at the flip of a switch.

"Roll camera... Action!"

The soft renaissance era music started, and Jamie and Annabelle, who stood on opposite sides of the ballroom, locked eyes, making the music stop at once. As if pulled by an unnatural force, they slowly stepped towards one another.

"Mark," Jamie turned to the violinist, his voice commanding, "play a Volta."

Annabelle quirked an eyebrow and smiled seductively at Jamie, batting her eyelashes. As the tune started playing, Jamie bowed gracefully to Annie, who curtsied deeply. He extended a hand for Annabelle, who placed her dainty palm in his big hand with a flourish. He then pulled her towards him, his hands gliding down her arms as he stepped behind her, leaning down to smell her hair.

Releasing her hand, she twirled around him, her skirts billowing with the movement, and surrounded him, their eyes rarely breaking contact. With a quick step, she collided with him as he placed one hand on her hip and gently wrapped his fingers around her neck with the other, leading them in dance steps back and to the side, their eyes fixated on one another, Annie's mouth slightly open with desire.

His hands snaked lower on her hips and he picked her up, lifting her high, looking up at her as he spun around with her in his arms. Spinning, pulling, pushing, the two moved in perfect sync. Another turn, another pull, another step - and she was back in his arms, high up in the air, running her fingers through his hair as the music died down.

"Cut!" The director's voice woke everyone from the spell, "Again!"

As the royal court watched from the sidelines (and the boys from behind the monitor screens), Jamie and Annabelle did what they do best - they teased each other, and everyone else watching, mercilessly.

Ben stood with his arms crossed over his chest, clenching his jaw tighter and tighter as the director demanded more and more takes.

My mind was racing as we kissed. Her hands were everywhere. One second they were playing with my hair, gently tugging, the next they were tracing shapes up and down my back, or holding my face in between them, or grasping at my biceps. Her lips were so incredibly soft and warm, so sweet to taste. Her scent. My God, that smell.

"What're you smiling at?" she mumbled against my lips before taking my bottom lip between her teeth, nibbling and tugging on it gently.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" I smirked.

"I'd love to know," Annabelle gently bit my cheek as I leaned down to attack her neck, making me grunt at the sensation, "tell me?"

"Can't," I shrugged and started kissing along the underside of her jawline, "that's extremely confidential information."

"I can keep a secret!" she squirmed as my lips tickled her neck.

"I know for a fact that what you've just said was a blatant lie."

"Fucking Gwilym."

"Sorry, love," I licked a line from her neck to her lips, "can't reveal my sources."

"Oh, sod off." She groaned and pushed me off of her, only to roll and climb on top of me, her legs on either side of me as she sat right on my groin.

We stared at each other, each daring the other to break and make the first move. Annabelle rolled her hips ever so slightly and raised an eyebrow, waiting for a reaction. I crossed my arms over my head, letting it rest in my hands, and flashed her the toothiest smile I possibly could. She only huffed in response.

"Problem?" I chuckled.

"I can do this all night, Ben."

"So can I."

"That was bloody incredible," Gwil hugged Annabelle so tight her arms flailed theatrically, as the cast and crew members filed out of the set for a much needed break, "I have no words!"

"Air, please!" Annabelle groaned and gasped for air when Gwil finally let her out of his grasp, "thank you!"

"It really was intense," Joe said, his eyes fixed on Annabelle's chest, "I mean, wow."

"Up here, mate," Annabelle snapped her fingers in front of her face, huffing impatiently, "you're acting like these are the first boobs you've ever seen."

"They are one of a kind," Joe retorted, "I'm not even sorry."

"Aw," Annabelle swayed from side to side with a sweet smile, "that's creepy but flattering!"

"Joe, that's my cousin."

"Yeah, I know."

"Stop gawking at her chest then!"

"Tell her chest to stop gawking at me!"

Annabelle only half-listened to their discussion, however. Her eyes searched Ben's face for a reaction, but he kept it even and cool as he looked up and around at the set, scratching the back of his neck.

"Ben?" Annabelle bit the inside of her cheek, "thoughts?"

"You were beautiful," he gave her a sideways glance.

"Right," Annabelle frowned, "but about the scene?"

"I can do it better," he shrugged.

"What?"

"You heard me," he glanced at her sideways again, "I said I can do it better."

An awkward silence engulfed the group at Ben's remark. Looking from Ben to Annabelle and back again, Joe poked his elbow at Gwil's side and gestured towards the door with his head.

"Well, uh," Joe rolled on his toes and back to his heels, stuffing his hands in his pockets, "we'll leave you two to it, then."

"What do you mean, you can do it better?" Annabelle's face was scrunched up in confusion.

"Teach me," He finally turned to face her, "I'll show you."

"The dance?" she barked out a laugh, "you meant the dance?"

"No," he said, rolling his eyes and licking his lips, his hands firmly placed on his hips, "I meant the craftsmanship of Renaissance dressmaking. Of course I meant the dance!"

"First of all, fuck off," Annabelle scoffed, "second - if you wanted to dance you could have just asked, you know."

"Just shut up and teach me the bloody dance, okay?"

"Fine," she sighed and took his hand to the middle of the floor, "bow."

"Excuse me?"

"Bow," she commanded him, tapping her foot impatiently, "bow down."

"At least buy me dinner before you boss me around..." he muttered but did as he was told.

"Good, that was one." Annabelle sank in a low curtsy, glancing up through her lashes to see Ben lick his lips, sneaking a peek at her, "two. Give me your hand," she said and as he extended his hand to her, she placed hers in his, "three. Now, pull me to you on," Ben tugged at her hand and she came flying to him, clinging to his chest, "four..."

As they went through the motions, Annabelle found that Ben wasn't only an excellent student, but a pretty decent dancer, as well. Other than a few corrections, he hit the nail on the head almost effortlessly.

"Ready to do the whole thing?" she panted, her hands on her hips, smiling at Ben encouragingly.

"Let's see what you've got, love," he teased her and took his place.

At the count of one, Ben took the lead as if it was second nature to him, guiding Annabelle through the steps easily. Ben's mouth was agape in awe as she moved so gracefully around him, his hands gentle but firm on her body as they moved.

"... Eight." He finished counting for them, looking up into her eyes. The light shone into his green eyes, making them sparkle.

Annabelle felt herself slipping down slowly in his arms, her skirts riding up uncomfortably. Just before the tips of her toes touched the floor, she wrapped her arms around Ben's neck, pressing her lips to his softly at first, before he leaned down into her kiss.

"See," he said as they broke apart, "told you, I can do it better."

I watched Annie as she picked up her belongings from around my flat. Every time she came over it's like her bag explodes and its' contents come flying out, landing everywhere. No room is safe. She spotted me following her around and smiled sadly.

"C'mere..." I held my arms out for her to step into and hugged her.

"It's getting late, Ben," she looked up at me, "I really should go."

"What if you didn't?" I asked and bit the inside of my cheek as I waited for her answer.

"What do you mean?"

"You're not as daft as you'd like people to think, Annie," I leaned away from our hug to look into her eyes, "what if you spent the night?"

"Well," she stammered, stumbling over her own words, "I'd love to..."

"But?"

"But not tonight."

"Annie, you're pooped," I reminded her, "you've been up since practically yesterday, you've had a long day... I mean, look at you!"

"Thanks," she sneered, "you always know just what to say to make a girl feel special."

"You can be as cheeky as you want," I retorted, "but you can't drive like this."

"You can't tell me -"

"For fuck's sake, Annabelle," I stepped back and pointed at her feet, "your bloody socks don't even match!"

She looked down and tilted her head, her lips puckered with curiosity.

"Hm," she nodded slowly, "but you said we were taking it slow."

"I know," I shrugged, "and I still stand behind what I said."

"I don't have a toothbrush."

"I'll give you one," I shrugged, "I have plenty."

"I don't have any clean clothes -"

"I'll let you borrow mine and I do own a washer and drier, you know."

"But I don't have any clean knickers!"

"Go commando. Problem solved." I chuckled, making her blush.

"Ben!"

"I'll wash your dirty knickers for you," I cupped her cheeks in my hands and bent my knees, catching her gaze with mine, "stay."

"Ben, believe me, I want to," she looked up at me, her big eyes changing colour from green to blue to a mixture of both like a mood ring, "but I just don't think it's a good idea if we're doing the whole 'taking-it-slow' shebang."

"I promise I'll keep my hands to myself."

"And if I don't want you to?" her breathy voice sent my head reeling with thoughts of the things I could do to her if she'd let me, "and if I can't keep my hands to myself?"

"Then don't."

Taglist: @xgoingdownx @clara-who @violetpond @sweeterthancheese @drummerqueenrmt @westansstuff @rogerinamainbitch @justgivemethekeys @BoRhapRogerina

[forwhycas]

Love Thy Neighbor (part 10)

Long awaited (I guess), but here it is!!!!! I have no words for how fun this part was to write! Hope you enjoy:)

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“Freddie, I cannot believe you rented a yacht for a whole day…it’s a little much don’t you think?”

 He shook his head.

 “Nonsense! It’s your birthday, I’m making up for all the birthdays I wasn’t friends with you, which is 23 birthday’s I could have made have made spectacular! Ahhh yes breakfast finally, has Roger worked up your appetite?”

 “Yes actually, I’m starving, he woke me up at 4 in the morning.”

 You were watching him across the very large table filled with every breakfast essential. Fruit, toast, eggs, pancakes, sausage, muffins, coffee, tea, jam, pudding, you name it, and it was on the table.

 “Oh did he now? Did you get the cute set of lingerie? Green if I remember?”

 “Yes, did you help him with that?”

 “Oh no, dear that was all him, he was nervous it was too much he rang me at the store and everything, so I’m glad you liked it.”

You smiled at Freddie and started to fill up your plate, you started to eat when John came to sit across from you, he smiled and handed you a small box.

 “It’s not much, but I know you’ll enjoy it, Happy Birthday love.”

 You smiled and took a bite of your toast before you opened it, it was a joint wrapped with golden paper, definitely enjoyable!

 “Deaky this is perfect, just what I wanted actually, did you roll this yourself?”

 He nodded.

 “This is excellent! Thank you!”

 He nodded at you and started to eat as well. After breakfast the massive boat started to move and stopped a few miles off shore dropping its anchor.

 “I’m jumping in, someone come with me!”

 Brian was up at next to you and grabbed your hand and you both jumped, the water was cool on your already warm skin, you heard a splash nearby and Roger emerged, he swam over to you with a smirk, he was up to something. His arms were around you, and his lips were on yours in no time, before you knew it your top was off, he through it over to Brian, your arms immediately wrapped around your chest.

 “Roger! Seriously?! Brian I swear to God if you don’t return that to me!!!”

 Your legs were kicking furiously since you couldn’t use your arms. Roger was back at your side and you moved away, scared he might take your bottoms next.

 “Lacey I would love to but I’m afraid I just can’t!”

 Your started to swim to the back of the boat where the ladder was, and climbed up it, your breasts free, If the boys can be topless why can’t you be?

 “Oh my God Lacey, I was right the other night, your tits are fantastic!”

 Freddie was sun bathing and took off his sun glasses just to stare, John was also staring. You heard Roger yelling something, and saw your top fling up onto the deck. You flung it back at him and decided to lay out and get a tan, laying on your stomach. You felt Rogers hands work some sun block into your back a few minutes later, you looked to your left and saw your top next to you, he fasted it back on for you when he was done with the sun screen.

 “Not a fan of my mates seeing your tits, definitely taking you over my knee later on…”

“Roger you’re the one who took it off my body, why am I being punished for something I didn’t do?”

 He slapped your bottom, which made you giggle.

 “Hate to brake this little thing up but I also have a gift for you Lacey!”

 You sat up on your knees and Brian handed you a small bag, once you got past the tissue paper, you found a very nice pair of ray bans. Practical and stylish.

 “Thanks Brian, now I don’t have to steal Rogers!”

 You put them on and smiled up at him. He lay next to you and Rog on the towel and caught some sun for a bit.

 “Lacey! Darling come get a drink, I need you drunk by noon!”

 Roger told you he would make you one, so you stayed on your towel with Bri.

 “So what did Roger get you?”

 “A very nice camera and a bubble bath, some other things…”

 “A bubble bath?”

 “He woke me up super early in the morning and ran me a bath, it was the strangest yet sweetest thing someone has ever done….I also took your advice and opened up to him…”

 “What did you guys chat about?”

 “We both obviously have feelings for each-other, I was just hesitant to start anything because of my last relationship and how absolute shit it was, how destroyed I was, let me tell you he’s very persuasive.”

 “Are you guys together now? Because if so I just made some big money…”

 “Yes, wait money, are you making bets with John again?!”

 You slapped Brian’s arm, he laughed at you and rolled onto his back.

 “Yes? Sorry is that a yes? Didn’t hear you!”

 “Yes Brian!”

 You shouted!

 “Lacey you just scared the shit out of me! I just spilled half of the drink I just made you!”

 Brian laughed even harder, you decided to join Freddie and Rog at the little bar that was on the left side of the deck. You kissed Roger on the cheek and sat down next to Freddie.

 “You guys fucked this morning didn’t you?”

 “Well Freddie we didn’t just fall asleep naked…”

 Roger spoke as he made you another drink.

 “I’m glad you guys finally did the deed, it’s been a long time coming, which I’m sure Lacey did a lot this morning…”

 You laughed at Freddies shit joke! And he left you and Roger at the bar to go get some music playing. Rog sat down next to you and placed your drink in front of you.

 “Look at me, this is strong so sip it slowly.”

 You scrunched your eye brows and took the straw out and started to chug it.

 “Or not!”

 You finished the drink and put the glass down. Smiling at him.

 “That was great babe, can I make you a drink next?”

 “First of all please always call me babe, and secondly yes, don’t make it gross though.”

 You hopped up and went behind the bar, so many expensive bottles.

 “This whole bar could probably buy a house…why are there so many bottles of vodka? Ok, so I only know how to make one drink, hopefully you like it!”

 You opened up the mini fridge behind the bar and found some pineapple chunks. You grabbed a tall glass and filled it with ice then the pineapple, some white rum and cranberry juice, you mixed it and put it in front of him.

 “It’s a little ‘girly’ but it tastes super good!”

 He took a sip.

 “This isn’t bad but I’m not a fan of fruity drinks, you drink this and make me vodka on the rocks instead, please?”

 You found a short glass filled it with ice and looked at the five different types of vodka.

 “Rog come choose which bottle you want.”

 He hopped over the bar and bent down to look at his options, he came up again and poured it over the ice. He then poured you a shot, you went to grab it.

 “Cheers!”

 You took your shot and he took a sip of his drink, you then grabbed the drink you originally made for him and took a big sip.

 “Are you trying to get drunk quick?”

 “Well Freddie said to be drunk by noon, it’s 11, so yes, yes I am.”

 You kissed him and grabbed his hand and he layed back on the towel next to you and Brian, Freddie finally got some music going and he demanded to dance with you, you of course didn’t refuse. The whole afternoon was spent dancing and sipping on some very expensive vodka, you were drunk for most of the day till the servers showed up out of nowhere with a very nice roasted chicken and pasta salad. That sobered you up which prepared you for Freddie’s next surprise.

 “After this little boat ride back, were going out to a very nice club, my birthday present to you will be hanging in your closet.”

 “A club, as in a very crowded night club with a lot of people?”

 “Well yes, I know you don’t like crowds but with what you’ll be wearing Roger won’t leave your side all night, so nothing to worry about!”

 Rogers arm was around you, you were leaning against his chest, you looked up at him and he winked at you and kissed the side of your head. When you got back the first thing you did was check the closet in your room, sure enough a very short dress was hanging up. It looked expensive, you looked at the tag and it read Versace.

 “Freddie fucking Mercury, get your ass in here now!”

 A few seconds later and he was standing in front of you.

 “I already know what you’re going to say, but me and Marry saw it when we were out a few weeks ago and we instantly thought of you, so we bought it! Try it on for me!”

 You told him to turn around and you striped out of your bathing suit and into the dress.

 “Can you zip it up for me?”

 Freddie turned around and did so, he pushed you in front of the nearest mirror. It was a strapless, tight dress, it had black sparkles and came about down about an inch below your ass, your breasts surprisingly fit into it and showed the perfect amount of cleavage.

 “I don’t know Freddie…it’s a little much.”

 “Nonsense were all dressing up, wear those nice white chucks you have with it, I was going to get you heels but I knew you wouldn’t of worn them. You look good enough to eat, if you have the confidence to wear those very skimpy bikinis then you should have no problem wearing this dress!”

 “Ok!”

 “Well thank god, I really just want to see Rogers face when he sees you, it really shows off those curves you got!”

 He unzipped it for and told you to be ready in an hour. You immediately hopped in the shower scrubbing away the salt water and sand, shaving your legs making sure they were extra smooth, you blow dried your curls and slipped on the green thong Rog had gifted you this morning, they weren’t on for very long. You needed someone to zip up your dress and found Rog on the patio, he stopped in his tracks when he saw you.

 “You kind of took my breath away for a second, you look absolutely incredible baby!”

 You smiled, that kind of smile where your whole face just kind of lights up and you can’t help but let out a breath of excitement with it, this caused Rogers whole face to light up again.

 “Thank you. Can you zip this up for me?”

 He moved your hair to one side and zipped it up for you, giving your ass a little squeeze.

 “I have a surprise for you later.”

 “Later? Why not now?”

 “Good things come to those who wait…”

 “Well I’m impatient, Rog!”

 “Stop pouting Lacey…”

 His eyes looked to your chest then back up to your eyes.

 “Can’t we just tell Freddie that I’m not feeling well and we can stay here, alone, and just fuck everywhere in this place?”

 He laughed.

 “We can do that when we get home, I’m actually looking forward to going to this club, I hear they have dancers!”

 “Are there poles? I’ve always wanted to dance on one…”

 His eyes widened.

 “I can definitely arrange that…”

 You kissed him, for no reason at all.

 “I always catch you two kissing, I wonder when I’ll catch you two fucking…”

 “Hi Freddie, are you here to tell us it’s time to leave or here to just interrupt for no reason at all, for like the fifth time?”

 You asked sarcastically. You were annoyed since there was never really a reason for him interrupting you two.

 “Everyone is ready and a car is outside waiting to take us, please do finish your make-out sesh in the car though, I love a good show!”

 Roger winked and motioned for you two to follow him, Roger hand intertwined with yours and you followed behind them. When you got the club there was a heard of paps, you always wondered how they knew someone popular was going to be arriving, it wasn’t Freddie for once since he hasn’t been drinking and he was genuinely pissed they were here. You just didn’t like them in general, they wrote terrible articles about Queen all the time, the press just does not like the band. You were helped out by Brian and Roger was out after you, his hand guiding you by the waist in through the entrance, you went past the whole line and the bouncer let you in immediately, the flashing was loud but not as loud as what they were yelling. Roger kissed the side of your head when you got past them and he reassured you that you were ok. All the guys knew they gave you anxiety. Once inside you were guided to a VIP siting area, sectioned off with a thick red velvet rope. Your drinks were ordered and then served. And boy were they strong, two drinks was enough for you, you were swaying and moving your hips to the music, Roger looked amused and got up and pulled you to the dance floor. The music was fast but you and Roger kept up, his head dipped down to your neck you pulled him in close to grind on his thigh, you saw a flash. Fuck.

 “Hey mate this a private event, get the fuck out of here!”

 Roger had one hand on your waist and the other was pushing a random person with a his camera away from you two.

 “Let’s take a little break? Hmmmm?”

 You nodded and he led you past a door with another bouncer and through the first door on the right. When you adjusted to the lights you realized it was a medium sized room with a small circled stage in the middle, a girl was dancing on the pole that was on the stage.

 “Alright that’s enough, thank you!”

 Roger said loud enough for the girl to hear, she stopped and Roger held out some bills in one hand, and helped her down with the other, she took the money from him then left.

 “Hop up there, put on a show for me…”

 He kissed you slowly and then pushed you lightly towards the stage. You climbed up and waited for Roger to sit in the chair across from it. You put one hand on the pole and started to walk around it slowly, you heard a def leppard song start to play, you swayed your hips a bit and then let your back hit the back of the pole and your bent to your knees spreading your legs showing Roger that you were wearing the green panties he had gotten you. You winked at him and he got up from his seat and took the few steps towards you and you closed your legs, and slip onto the floor sitting down at the edge of the stage, Roger pulled at your leg wrapping it around his waist and he lifted you a bit so could get down. He went to kiss you but your hand went over his mouth.

 “Not now, later…just like that surprise.”

 You smirked, and he shook his head at you. He lead you out of the room and back to where the boys were, you had one more drink and found yourself dancing on a table with Freddie. Roger ended up getting annoyed at that and pulled you down to dance with him instead.

 “Roger are you jealous?”

 You whispered in his ear.

 “I can show just how jealous I am, if we leave…”

 You smiled up at him and nodded your head yes. His hand tugged your through the crowd and then down the hallway towards the entrance, he slowed down and intertwined his left hand with your right, you stepped outside and the paps were still there. The car was already pulling up and you two got in quickly. The care ride home was tense, but you lightened it by laying down and putting your head on his lap, his hands playing with your curls. When you were dropped off at the villa, he was almost in a dominant state of mind.

 “Did I do something to make you mad? Your tense.”

 “No, I just really want fuck you that’s all…”

 “Is that my surprise? You fucking me?”

 “Oh no, this is…”

 You were in his room sitting on the bed, and he pulled out a vibrator, it was yours and your eyes widened with panick.

 “Why the fuck do you have my vibrator? Did anyone tell you it’s rude to go through other people’s stuff?”

 “It wasn’t hard to find, it was in your bed side table, I was just curious one day…”

 “So you decided to go through my shit?”

 “Yup!”

 “Don’t smile at me like that Rog! You went through my room, that’s weird!”

 “Well this is your surprise, I also bought these…”

 He pulled out a set of hand cuffs. He was smirking at you.

 “The surprise is I’m gonna use this to get you off, then I’m gonna fuck you until your screaming my name, no one’s here so I expect you to be loud.”

 You were a little tipsy, and your only response was to giggle. Roger couldn’t help but smile at you sweetly when you did so.

 “Is something funny to you?”

 His attitude changed from sweet to sexy real quick.

 “Sorry I’m drunk and you holding my vibrator just does something to me…”

 “Up, I need that dress off of you, come on, up!”

 You hopped up and he worked the zipper down and he tugged at it, it fell to your ankles, exposing your chest. He took a step back to admire your naked skin, he trailed his hand down between you breast and reached into your underwear, his fingers going in between your already soaked lips.

 “Your body is always so responsive to my touch…on the bed now, let’s go!”

 He pushed you so you fell back and he got the hand cuffs, he cuffed your hands to the bed post and he grabbed the camera he tried to gift to you earlier.

 “Roger I swear to god, if you take any fucking pictures of me!!”

 “What are you going to do? Hm? Baby I got you cuffed, you’re not going anywhere…”

 “Rog…”

 You whined as he took a picture, you glared at him and pulled at the cuffs.

 “Your gonna hurt yourself, stop, these pictures are for me and me only, relax love…take a deep breath.”

 He was straddling you, his lips going down to your neck, your eyes closed and smile spread across your face. He bit down lightly, and trailed his lips to your nipples, tugging at them lightly with his teeth, you moaned as he did so, he reached over and grabbed the vibrator. He turned it on and it passes over your hard nipples, your back arched into him, it was a nice sensation.

 “Feels nice right?”

 You nodded your head, he trailed it down your stomach, your legs already spreading, ready for him. He closed your legs and tugged at the green thong with his teeth till they were past your thighs, he took the rest of it off with his free hand. He was now laying in between your legs and trailing your vibrator up the inside of your thighs, you moaned loudly caused Roger to laugh. He then trailed it in between your lips causing you to buck your hips a little, his other hand came to push your stomach back down.

 “Tell me, did you use this while thinking of me?”

 He circled the end of it around your clit, adding a little bit of pressure. You moaned and yelled yes.

 “Did you ever think I would be using it on you?”

 You shook your head no, and let out a sigh as he started to push it into your center slowly. Your hands grasped at the headboard and squeezed it to brace yourself.

 “Fuck Roger!”

 He pushed it in further and turned the nob causing the vibrations to get faster.

 “Oh you want more?”

 “Yes! Please Rog!”

 He took it out, you were panting and all you wanted to do was touch him.

 “Roger, please undo these, I want to touch you!”

 “You know babe I want to, but seeing such a strong woman so powerless is really turning me on, so they’ll stay there until I make you cum a few times, ok?”

 You put your head back and he pushed it all the way inside of you.

 “Is this was you wanted?”

 “Yes! Yes Roger!”

 He started to slowly pump it and out of your wet center, the muscles in your thighs tightened, your toes curled. He quickened the pace, while his hand worked it in and out of you, his lips came up to your mouth, kissing you slowly. He pulled away and you pouted.

 “I hate it when you pout, I told you I’d take you over my knee! Is that what you want, a good spanking?”

 “Yes…”

 He smiled and started to pump the vibrator deeper into you, hitting your g spot, you were crying out his name, louder and louder till you came so hard your head was spinning.

 “I didn’t say you could finish, but ok.”

 He slowly took it out and shut it off putting it aside. He flipped your body around, you grabbed onto the head board for support, your elbows resting on the pillows, you were on all fours when you felt Rogers hand start to caress your ass.

 “I’m thinking 10 will do it? Yea?”

 “Yes!”

 His hand traveled up your back and gathered your hair, he tugged at it, then he started his “punishment”, each time his hand collided with your ass it was harder and harder till you were panting from how good it felt. You were getting wetter and wetter each time. You heard him unzip his pants and you felt his dick slide against your soaked entrance.

 “I told you I wanted you on all fours, and now look at this…so pretty and submissive, you feel that? That’s what you’ve done to me.”

 He pushed into you hard.

 “Fuck, Roger, harder!”

 He gathered your hair again and buried himself in deeper as he gave you a good tug, your head flying back. He released your hair and grabbed at your hips as he pumped in and out of you fast. He started to curse.

 “Fuck your tight, don’t cum until I say so or I’ll slap this pretty little ass of yours again!”

 He slapped it once causing you to yell out his name. A few minutes later and you were holding onto the headboard for dear life as he slammed into your g spot over and over again.

 “Roger, please let me cum! I need to!”

 He left your body, and flipped you back over onto your back giving your arms a break, he pushed himself back into you and grabbed your hips, your legs wrapping around his waist, heels digging into his lower back, all you wanted to do was dig your nails into his back, leave scratches down it. The familiar feeling pooled into the pit of your stomach, you were so close. His lips were on yours as he moaned into your mouth, his head dipped down to your neck and his breath was heavy and hot against your skin, you kissed his neck and started to bite gently, his arms came up to the headboard next to yours as he gave it his all, your hips rolled around in a circular motion causing him to moan your name.

 “Fuck, Lacey!”

 Your legs were shaking and your breath was hallow, you needed to cum. Tears were slowly rolling out of the corners of your eyes as he kept slamming into your g spot over and over again.

 “Roger! Please! I’m gonna cum!”

 “Go ahead baby.”

 You did and your walls clenched around him, you screeched his name over and over again, your voice getting horse as he fucked you through your orgasm until you finished. He pulled out and you could feel his cum leaking out of you. Sweaty and out of breath Roger undid the hand cuffs and you immediately had your hands around him, grasping at his neck to pull him down to your lips. You were weak but you wanted to touch him and now you finally could, you lazily rolled on top of him, your legs feeling like jello. You kissed him softly, his arms resting on your lower back, his finger-tips slowly going back and forth swirling light circles into your skin. Sweet Roger was back. He rolled your bodies over so that he was laying on top of you, he smiled sweetly down at you and moved the hair out of your face.

 “I’m sorry I went through your stuff.”

 You chuckled.

 “That’s what you’re thinking about right now? You were just balls deep inside of me and your thinking of that?”

 He laughed.

 “I’m thinking of a lot of things, but that’s the first thing that came to mind.”

 “Well what else are you thinking?”

 “I’m thinking that was some of the best sex I have had, that you are very beautiful, and I’m exhausted but I’ll be ready to go for round 2 in a few minutes.”

 “Roger you just destroyed my legs I don’t think I can participate in round 2!”

 “Babe it’s your birthday, I’m gonna fuck you as many times as your body can handle, and I feel that it hasn’t reached its limit yet.”

 “You know Rog, I think you have better stamina than I do, because that was like a weeks-worth of sex for me right there, and your already hard, let me take care you, please?”

 He rolled over so he was on his back, you straddled him, kissing up his chest. His breath hitched and he let out a faint moan.

 “Kiss me already…”

 You pulled his hair, pulling his head back, you licked up his throat then kissed him with all you had. Your hips ground into his hard dick, his hands guided your hips at the rythem he wanted, your circled your hips. Your forehead against his, your teeth tugged at his bottom lip. You stopped your grinding and lifted your body lining his dick with your center, you sank down onto it slowly. Roger cursed and you moaned, still so sensitive from minutes before. You slowly rode him, your thighs still screaming. You picked up your pace, your hands on his chest balancing yourself. You started to slowly circle your hips as you hopped up and down on his dick.

 “Lacey! Lacey!”

 “I know I’m close to!”

 A few minutes later and Roger was bucking his hips into yours and came shortly before you did.

 “How was that?”

 “Top notch babe!”

************************************************************************************************

Hope you enjoyed!! Please like, reblog or share!;)

[scribblescrabblebabble]

RoyEd Week 2k19 Day 1!

Title: Seven(?) Days

Rating: T+

Relationships: Roy Mustang/ Edward Elric

Chapter: Day 1- Modern AU (high school theater fluff & dramatic!Roy)

Cross- Posted on AO3 and Fanfic.net links- Fanfic.net   AO3

Best quality reading will be through the links, not on Tumblr itself because I’m too lazy to do italics and shit right now. For @royedweek2019 ‘s RoyEd Week!

Day 1- Modern AU

           Ed stared bleakly down at the many slides and switches laid in front of him. He had finished his homework an hour ago, so now all he could do was sit in the small booth and watch his classmates argue with the Drama teacher below him.

‘Theater People’ He thought with an eye-roll, ‘Roy’s real lucky I’m such an upstanding boyfriend for helping him like this.’

           “Edward, honey, turn on the presets for scene five!” Mrs. Lamine, a Drama teacher very befitting of the title, called from the stage as she directed Ed’s aforementioned boyfriend and a few other students to stand over little strips of colored tape.

           Ed gave a quick thumbs-up and pressed one of the preset buttons, and all lights but for some red and blue lights on-stage dimmed or turned completely off (he had watched in trepidation as two techies hung the gel-covered lamps from bars over the stage on a rickety-at-best scaffolding a week ago).

           The board had been easy to learn, compared to the “computer stuff” (as Roy dubbed it) Ed worked on for fun. His only real qualm with his current situation was just about everything else about participating in a high school theater production when he could be doing just about anything else. Stupid Colin and his broken legs, and the wheelchair non-accessible light booth. Stupid Roy and Al, too, for their dumb influence over Ed’s emotions. And, most of all, stupid theater for having a production in a week and not enough funding to hire a booth guy.

           With a sigh, Ed leaned back in his chair and watched Val Smith screw up her lines for the umpteenth time that hour.

--------

           Of everything he hated about staying until seven at school every day for an extracurricular he couldn’t care less about, the sheer nosiness of the actresses (especially Val fucking Smith) got to Ed the most.

They were running a few scenes with just the house lights on for the moment, so Ed had nothing to do until Roy and Jean managed to remember their swordfight choreography the whole way through (and it wasn’t like Ed didn’t absolutely love watching Roy accidentally hit Jean in the shins with the prop lance, but at this point they would actually have battle wounds when they weren’t even really supposed to touch each other!). Suddenly, Ed saw two of his classmates, Christy and Paninya, approach the light booth in his periphery. He hadn’t heard the balcony door creak open as it usually did, so their sudden appearance took him by surprise. Their all-too innocent expressions didn’t a thing to soothe Ed’s irritation, either.

“Hey, Ed.” Paninya greeted quietly as they slid into the booth and crouched next to him, filling up the little free space he had.

“What’s up?” Ed asked nonchalantly. He knew from their smiles that they weren’t just up here to ask after his well-being.

“So… You and Roy are an item.” Christy stated.

Ed blinked, taken off- guard. Sure he wasn’t exactly private about his relationship with Roy, but none of the theater girls had previously so much as acknowledged it (Ed had his suspicions it was because they quietly resented Ed for snagging their dream boy away from them). He slowly said, “Yeah…. So what?”

Paninya shook her head quickly, “No, we don’t care or anything. We think you two are really good together! We were just curious about something. Actually, we have a bet, you see.” The scheming smile was back.

‘Oh God,’ Ed thought.

Christy asked through a little giggle, “Who tops?”

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

           “You’re not really still salty about running lights, are you?” Roy asked incredulously. True, it had been a week, but Ed was nothing if not persistent. Plus, he had one more whole week of this ordeal, and if he had to deal, so could Roy. However, Ed hadn’t quite planned on his “salt” affecting his current situation, which saw him straddling Roy in the dark-haired boy’s beanbag chair, an amused smirk cast upon his bright red blush.

Ed scowled through his flushed cheeks, removing his hands from where they had been previously removing Roy’s shirt, “Is now really the time?”

“You’ve never pouted so much during a thrall of passion; I had to ask.”

Ed groaned, “Don’t call it a thrall of passion, ya dork! I was just reminded of stupid Christy and Paninya and their dumb bet.”

Roy laughed loudly, “Oh geez, of all the times!”

“Yeah I know, right?” Ed scowled, yelping a bit when Roy ran his hand lightly up his waist.

“Well, for what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re helping out. I like getting to see you after school.”

Ed’s blush could have melted ice, “Shut up and continue doing what you were doing, you ass.” Roy laughed, yet compiled all the same.

---

           That Thursday night, it was Al’s turn to bear witness to Ed’s tirades (not that he hadn’t had an earful already). It was the night before opening night, and they had just come back home from the final dress rehearsal, Al still smeared in stage makeup, and Ed wearing a scowl to beat all other scowls.

           “Fuck the stupid theater!” He growled, throwing his backpack onto the couch as Al pulled out a Tupperware of leftover dinner with the note ‘Left this out for you boys to eat after rehearsals. Dad and I won’t be home until tomorrow morning. Don’t get hurt, we don’t want you two to turn up at work. <3 – Mom’

           “Mom and Dad left out some food, Brother. Let’s eat.”

           Ed nodded, “Did Mom leave a crappy ER joke?”

           Al shrugged, “It’s more of a warning this time. Hurry up and sit, I’ll toss the food in the mic for a sec.” He did so, keeping his back to Ed at the kitchen table as the food spun around cooking, “Ya know, I’m really glad you’re doing this for us. I know you’d rather be doing other stuff.”

           Ed huffed, “What? How could you tell?”

           “I really hope that was sarcasm, Brother.” Al turned to see Ed, legs kicked up on the table scrunching up the decorative table cloth their mom insisted on laying out to “accent the fruit bowl”.

           “Do you know me, Al? I’m made of sarcasm. And anyway, it’s not a huge problem, I’m sure Roy would have just bugged me until I gave in anyway. I just don’t see how you can stand being around those people for so many hours every day!”

           Al rolled his eyes over the mild jab at his friends, “I mean, you chose to date a theater guy, so I don’t know what you can really say about that.”

           “But it’s Roy.”

           “Yes, exactly my point. The biggest personality in our theater class: Roy Mustang.”

           “What’re you getting at?” Ed asked.

           “Well,” Al responded, “I’m just saying that if you can handle Roy every day and choose to date him, then you can deal with Val Smith for a few hours.”

           “But it’s different! Roy’s cute when he’s being dramatic. Val makes me want to punch something.”

           Al shook his head, “You confuse me, Brother.” The microwave beeped, and Al served up the warm food. Ed took a large bite of his pasta.

           “You nervous about the show, Al?” He asked around the food in his mouth, changing pace.

           Al blinked, “A bit, but I’ve got a pretty minor role. I’m more nervous that our poor excuse of a tech class will screw up a set or not get the right stuff onstage between scenes or something like that and throw off the flow of the performance.” Al paused to eat some food before continuing, “What about you?”

           Ed cocked a brow, “You know I don’t a fuck about this play.”

           “But you’ve got a pretty important job. If you mess up a light cue, everyone will freak out and mess up.”

           “So? I won’t fuck it up.” Ed shrugged.

           “You’re not even a bit nervous for Roy? You don’t give a fuck about the play, but you do give a fuck about him.” Ed paused, wishing Al didn’t know his thought process so well.

           “Well… I’m worried that Roy’ll be a big drama queen about wanting me to do well if that’s what you mean. You know how he is.”

“But I thought you said he was cute when he was dramatic.” Al giggled at Ed’s blush.

“Not when he’s being dramatic over me!”

Al burst into real laughter over his brother’s flustered face, “He’s probably gonna be more nervous about himself messing up than you, in all honesty.”

“But he’s, like, the best actor y’all have (no offense)! He’s got nothing to worry about.” Ed defended. In all honesty, it hadn’t crossed Ed’s mind that Roy may doubt himself onstage. Sure, he had some self-confidence issues (it took Ed ages to convince Roy to come out to his friends- all part of the theater- about their relationship), but he seemed so… relaxed when he acted! Ed just assumed he’d be less unsure in himself in that area.

Al sighed, “He is the best- that’s why he gets super anxious backstage. He’s got a reputation to uphold. It only happens right before he has to go on, so I’m not surprised you haven’t noticed, but he gets all freaked out and panicky. Almost threw up once.”

“Ew, Al, I’m eating!” Ed groaned, squeamish with puke in conversation, “So what you’re saying is that if I mess up, it’ll get to Roy’s head and he’ll have a panic attack?”

“I didn’t say that! God, Ed.”

“Well you don’t have to, because I won’t mess up and Roy will be great, and you’ll kill it, and this play will be a hit. I didn’t waste two weeks on this damn thing to fail my one job opening night.”

Ed stood with that comment, scraping his leftover food into the garbage (Al winced at the waste) and taking his leave to go finish his homework with a quick “Goodnight” to Al. The younger Elric brother to the last bite of his dinner with a smug look on his face, having new confidence in Ed’s secret enjoyment of the theater. All he had to do now was get through opening night, and the rest would be a breeze.

-----

At last, it was opening day, and Ed could see the light at the end of the theater-shaped tunnel. Only today and the weekend to go before he’d have his afternoons back and Roy would be indebted to him interminably. That is, Roy would be indebted to him once he got out of whatever dumb slump he’d been in since that morning. He’d been distracted during all of the classes they shared, and not just his usual “too cool to take notes” kind of distracted! Ed had his suspicions it was because of the play, considering what Al had told him last night.  

At lunch, Ed and his friends ate in their usual stomping grounds- the chemistry teacher’s classroom. He’d let them eat there on the conditions that they clean up after themselves and help set up for his labs after they eat. He entered the room, surprised to find his brother and Roy there, chatting with James Slayton (a classmate of Al’s who liked to hang around Ed’s group). It wasn’t unheard of to find either boy in the chem room with Ed, he had assumed they would be eating with their theater friends before the big show.

“I didn’t expect you guys to be here.” Ed said when Roy and Al noticed him set down his backpack and lunch tray at his usual desk, “Not hanging out with the cast?”

Roy shook his head vigorously, “They wanted to run lines for the first act while we ate. If I have to hear that script before tonight, I’ll scream.”

“I tagged along.” Al shrugged, turning back to James.

Roy sat at the desk in front of Ed, turning his body around so that he faced his boyfriend, his chin rested on his folded arms at the end of Ed’s desk. Ed poked him on the nose with his plastic spoon, “You tired?”

“I’ll have you know I slept wonderfully last night… with the help of Melatonin. I just want this show to be over with.”

Ed blinked, “I thought you loved acting.”

“I do! It’s just… opening a show is always nerve-wracking. The first show can really set morale for the rest, so it’s gotta be good. And some actors, not me, of course-”

“Oh, of course.” Ed agreed wryly, receiving an exasperated look from the other.

“-some actors just get progressively worse and worse if they start out making mistakes. It’s a mental thing, ya know? Everyone wants the show to go smoothly, but nobody trusts the other actors to take it seriously and try their best!” Roy sighed.

Ed grinned a bit at his expense, taking the opportunity to run his fingers in Roy’s hair with the hand not holding his fork. Russel and Rose entered the room around this time, immediately making gagging noises at Ed’s show of affection. He put his fork down to flip the duo off before turning back to Roy, who looked like he was trying not to laugh in favor of being dramatic and sad. “You’ll fucking rock it, Roy. You know that. Besides, how can this thing fail if I’m involved? Like I told Al, I didn’t waste two weeks of my life to let my efforts crash and burn. Plus, you get to beat the shit out of Jean with a fake sword! You’re forgetting your blessings here, man.”

“That’s the spirit,” Roy laughed, “Can I snag a fry?”

Ed consented said snag, wondering aloud, “Did you not get your own food?”

Roy shook his head, now lifted from his arms, “I’d throw it all up.”

Ed put down his own fry, “You and Al need to stop it with the puke-talk!” He could hear Al laugh behind him as he exited the classroom with James for more food, Ed presumed.

Roy was going to respond, when Val poked her head into the room, obviously looking for him, “Roy! We’ve been looking all over for you, we need to run lines for scene six and find Al! Meet us onstage in five.” She flipped her hair back and strode back into the hall.

Ed noticed Roy instantly slump back down and couldn’t stop the angry, “Fucking bitch,” from leaving his mouth.

Roy shook his head, “Only on production week. Usually, Val’s sweet.” He moved to stand, looking confused when Ed did as well.

“No, wait a moment!” Ignoring his friends’ joking comments about PDA, Ed pulled Roy into a hug, murmuring, “Don’t let yourself get too worked up, yeah? I’ll see you after school.”

He could practically feel Roy’s smile as the boyfriend in question gave Ed a reciprocating squeeze and stepped back, “See you then.”

He turned with a wave and left for the theater, and Ed sat back in his seat.

“You two are disgusting,” Russel commented. Ed just grinned at him.

-----

As Ed predicted, Roy killed it onstage. Jean probably had a few new welts from that sword, but the scene looked great so he’d let it slide. As a matter of fact, the only person who majorly messed up was Val Smith (which had Ed mentally cheering, unabashed at his own malice. He just really fucking hated Val). Back in the changing rooms, Ed found his boyfriend hugging a few of the actresses in celebration of a well-done opening show, face red from exertion and makeup wipes.

“What did I fucking tell you, Roy Mustang?” Ed asked, making Roy look up. The girls (Christie and Paninya, Ed noticed with a grimace) collectively grinned and pushed Roy out of their arms to Ed, who caught him before they both crashed to the ground. Roy’s laugh was contagious as he hugged Ed tightly, and the blonde found himself chuckling along with him.

The quick (and rather violent, in Ed’s humble opinion) kiss was a surprise, and Ed was still reeling a bit as Roy raved, “Ed, it went so well! You did great!” above the ‘Oooooo’s sent their way by Al and Jean (who was, in fact, holding a small ice pack to his waist).

Ed blushed a bit at the compliment, “Hey, I told you I wouldn’t let my wasted afternoons be for nothing. Besides, tonight was pretty fun, at least. Not saying the rehearsals were at all, though.”

That seemed to be the right response, because Roy totally lit up, obviously glad that Ed had had some fun in the subject he adored. Then, however, a smirk blanketed his glee, “So you’d help with the next show too?”

“What? I NEVER said that! You must be diluted or something!” Ed fussed over Roy’s laugh.

But as they left each other’s holds for Roy to finish changing back into his normal clothing Ed realized, deep down, that he would most likely end up helping his boyfriend if he asked. Because, as much as he hated theater, he kind of fucking loved Roy Mustang.  

[theartificialdane]

Andromeda, chapter 5 (Vitan - Cassiopeia)

Violet and Sutan might have figured things out, because just because you have decided to stay together, doesn’t mean it’ll be easy to get there. In this we check in in march, we grocery shop, Raven has an agenda, and Violet calls in the middle of the night.

Thanks a million to @veronicasanders - My absolute darling who’s my ever patient and amazing beta. I’m so thankful for her!

“Which milk do you want?” Sutan closed the door to the supermarket fridge. “GrandLait fraise with..” Sutan turned the container, trying to make sense of it. “The blue cap, or the one with the red?”

“I don’t drink milk.”

“Right...” It was mid March, and since Fashion Week Sutan had spent more time in Paris than he had in New York, thinking that it would be no problem to adjust to a country where he knew the language, he had realised that he had no idea how limited his French vocabulary actually was. Sutan could talk for hours about fashion, book a flight without a sweat and order at a restaurant, but navigating a grocery store? Keep a conversation going with Violet’s next door neighbor? Find the products Frida needed at the petstore? Imposiblé as they’d say in his soon to be home country.

“Let me.” Sutan could hear the smile in Violet’s voice, his girlfriend walking over to him, their cart abandoned from where Violet was looking for her brand of oat milk. “Blue is 2%, red is whole.”

“Thanks.”

“We have to make sure you can have your coffee, right?”

Violet turned her head up, silently asking for a kiss which Sutan had no problem giving her. Kissing Violet in public was different, the first time she silently seeked affection coming as a genuine surprise since she would rarely even hold his hand in New York unless they were somewhere private. Violet was different in Paris. In general almost everything was different in Paris.

“Do we have coffee? I think we got some the last time you were here...” Violet bit her lip, clearly thinking, and Sutan couldn’t help but smile. Violet was doing so much to make him feel welcome, doing everything she could to make sure he was happy in her home and happy in what they tried to build together.

“I think so.”

Violet nodded, putting the whole milk in the cart. “We can get an extra jar of instant, just to be sure.”

Sutan wrinkled his nose, making Violet laugh. Instant coffee was among his least favorite. He hadn’t had it regularly since he and Raja had become wealthy enough to buy their own apartment and both of them had to switch to more socially acceptable forms of doping, so coffee it was.

“Are you going to bringing your machine over, or should I start looking for one?”

“Maybe. I haven’t decided yet.”

Violet took Sutan’s hand, gently intertwining their fingers.

When Sutan had stood outside Violet’s door, promising he would make it work, promising that they were going to work, he had no idea how hard it would be. There were so many logistics involved, the easiest of it all actually being his job, though he had never expected that. His boss at Elite had said yes to transferring him almost immediately, not willing to risk losing him to one of their rival companies in France, French Elite opening their doors for him and ready to take him in, the legal process already started. It was close to hell to keep track of, and Sutan had no idea how his parents had actually managed to move from one continent to another when he was a child. He had a company do everything for him, and it was still absolutely terrible.

What had been hard though, was packing up his things, selling his apartment and moving away from his friends. Raja had been furious, angry beyond belief, his sister yelling at him and throwing things, burning with a fire so bright it hurt to look at, until she was finally finally done raging. Then she had cried, tears flowing from her like a river, her reaction just as violent when it came from sorrow, Sutan holding her and letting her sob. Seeing his sister beak apart like that had broken his heart as well. Raja had cried for her brother, cried for how they were going to be apart, had cried for the fact that she was now going to be alone with her baby girls, but Sutan had kissed her hair, letting her finally finally realise that she would be alright, and that it was time for them to not say goodbye, but instead see you soon, their bond strong enough for Sutan to leave and try something new without her.

Jinkx had been the most surprising help, his ex financee and someone Sutan was sure would hate him for the rest of her life easily offering without any prompting to let her family business take on his apartment, creating a revenue stream for him for his life in Paris, a safety net for back home to make sure his mother would always have easy access to the monthly transfer they had never discussed, but that had always come a t the exact same time.

He still needed about three or four trips back to New York, legal matters still needing tending to, and he still had to finish the tedious process of packing and wrapping everything up at work.

“Should we have pasta tonight?”

Sutan was pulled back to the present, Violet standing with a packet of chicken breasts in her hand, their cart besides her.

“Again?” “I have a limited repertoire, and someone complained the day I served oatmeal.” Sutan laughed, clearly remembering the moment he realised just exactly how bad his girlfriend was at cooking, Violet knowing how to make little more than instant mashed potatoes, broccoli salad, oatmeal and if she truly feeling adventurous, whipping up a chicken pasta.

“I’ll get better...” Violet’s voice was small, and Sutan could see that he had accidentally embarrassed her.

“I’m sorry lovely eyes.” Sutan kissed her hair.

They had somehow decided that they would take turns cooking, Violet really trying her best, but Sutan could see that she didn’t enjoy it, his girlfriend somehow seeing food more as fuel than even the skinniest model Sutan had ever encountered. They had never been out grocery shopping together in New York, at least as far as Sutan could remember, the first time Violet even suggested it a surprise to him. It had been years since Sutan had last done his own shopping, his housekeeper happily filling his fridge for an extra bonus in her salary.

“How about I make us something Indonesian?”

“Like what?”

“Nasi goreng?”

“Is that the rice your mom makes?”

Sutan nodded.

“That would be nice.” Violet took his hand. To anyone else, her words might sound dismissive, but Sutan knew exactly what they meant.

///

“Over here!”

Sutan had just landed in JFK returned from a long weekend in Paris with Violet. It had almost turned into an artform for him, stay as long as he possibly could, work on the plane, crash when he got home with jetlag and then get as much done as he could before he returned to Paris. Sutan was only carrying a duffel bag, the entire process of getting into America thankfully over quickly.

“Raven?” Sutan knew he sounded surprised, but he hadn’t expected to see the Russian. “What are you doing here?”

Actually, he should have expected to see the Russian. Only Raven was insane enough to willingly take the trip out to Newark with baby girls who were barely even a month old. Sutan was pretty sure it was breaking some kind of health code, or at least breaching the limits of good parenting, but his entire knowledge of parenting also came from watching Juju and Detox care for their kids, so what did he really know.

“The girls missed you.” Raven smiled brightly as she pushed a twin stroller towards him. Sutan felt a little unsettled, the fact that Raven had actively sought him out worrying in itself, though he was happy to see her. Raven had largely forgiven him for firing her, Raja fucking most of the rage out of her on her honeymoon, the fact that the media was much more interested in that and that her online fans had forgotten that she had been laid off as she posted beautiful photos and pictures of her and Raja together soothing the wound in exactly the way he had planned it. Sutan hoped that her new role as a mother would help her move on entirely, or at least move on to become a social media influencer, brands already reaching out to her to make sure her girls were dressed in their clothes even though they didn’t do anything but sleep and eat right now.

“Did they now?” Sutan hugged Raven, the no longer model so much smaller than he remembered her since she wasn’t wearing heels. Raven was wrapped up in a large quilted jacket, without a doubt wanting to hide the last of her pregnancy weight. Sutan had sped to Long Island the moment the news had dropped that Raven had gone into labor, picking up his mom in the middle of the night to drive her back, Raja almost sobbing when she saw her mother, but thankfully the birth had gone fine, two little baby girls coming into the world at 2 a.m. on the 2nd of March.

“See for yourself.”

Sutan smiled, looking into the stroller. The twins were laying side by side, curled together on one side, seeking each other like they were still in the womb, unable to let go even in sleep. Sutan reached into the stroller, gently running a finger over the cheek of his niece’s face, her little chin adorably fat the way only baby's was. It was weird to see his own flesh and blood, his sister’s little girls out in the world.

“So... Is Raja still mad?”

“It depends.” Raven smiled. Raja was hot and cold, his sister still shifting between furious and like nothing had happened at all depending on her mood. “I think this whole mom thing has been harder for her than she expected.”

Sutan nodded. Raja had held her girls, his normally near emotionless sister looking at her babies with so much love in her eyes that it had been physically painful to witness. Raja kissing and thanking Raven over and over again for the gift she had given her. Sutan knew from Fame that Raja had been a walking zombie at work in the following days, the blonde complaining on the phone that she had no idea how Raja had expected to be able to go right back to work after the birth of her daughters when she had taken two weeks off for her wedding.

“Have you decided on names yet?”

Raven smiled secretly, the two of them walking out of Newark together, a driver already waiting for them. “Yes, but it’s a secret.”

“Of course. Makes perfect sense.”

Sutan was so happy Raven had forgiven him, the fact that life in New York was going on without him, even if it also hurt. They all got in the car, Sutan and Raven sitting in the back, Raven’s hand in the basket with her girls, resting on their little tummies as they made their way into Manhattan.

“Sutan...”

“Yes?” Sutan looked up from his phone, the fact that he was transfering meaning he somehow had received more emails in the last few weeks than it felt like he had in his entire career, a few all nighters in the office without a doubt in the near future.

“Why does Violet hate me?”

“... What?”

“She hasn’t responded to any of my messages, I haven’t heard from her since you guys broke up, and now that she’s talking to you again, why hasn’t she- She hasn’t even seen- I want her to meet- I just- Why?”

Sutan could see that Raven was seconds from crying, the new mom still beyond exhausted all the time even if Mani had moved in with them for a time to help with everything. “Raven.”

“Don’t pity me!” Raven angrily wiped her eyes, and Sutan knew that was really why she had come to see him, a chance to privately ask what had without a doubt been eating away at her soul. “I know I don’t make friends easily, I know I don’t, but- I really thought we were friends, and I-”

“She misses you too.”

“She does?”

Sutan nodded, though he wasn’t entirely sure he was telling the truth. Violet liked Raven, that much was clear to him, but he also understood that his sister in laws bright and loud personality could also be a little much for Violet sometimes.  

“She’s just...scared, of meeting all of you again. She told me, during fashion week.” Her reasoning had without a doubt been different back then, but if Sutan was honest, he couldn’t blame his girlfriend. His friends were intense, that wasn’t a secret to anyone, and the idea of just leaving them had tempted even him sometimes, but he loved them, and even if he was growing more and more excited about moving, he wasn’t happy about leaving a single one of them behind.

“So she doesn’t hate me?”

“She doesn’t.” Sutan reached into the basket too, putting his hand on top of Ravens.

“If I throw a birthday party for the girls, do you think she’ll come?”

“... In a year?”

“Of course not silly. For their two month birthday and name reveal! It’ll be amazing.” Raven smiled brightly, the former model’s eyes shining not with tears now, but with pure excitement. “I’m already working with a party planner. We’re having a Russian and Indonesian fusion feast to celebrate the two most amazing girls in the world!”

“We won’t miss it for the world.”

///

Riiiiiing, riiiiiing, riiiiiing

Sutan rolled over, a groan leaving him. His phone was going off, the sound so so loud in his quiet bedroom. It was the middle of the night, and normally Sutan would be pissed that anyone interrupted him, but in the last month, the ringtone had become a lifeline in this new life, his girlfriend on the other side even though she was 6 hours ahead, which meant their days never lined up.

Sutan finally found his phone, sliding without opening his eyes, the phone against his ear as he settled back down under the covers.

“Hi lovely eyes”

“Why is there a delivery man outside my door?”

“... What?” Sutan knew he had to sound stupid, but unlike Violet, he wasn’t quick to wake up, his brain needing time to reboot. Violet often found delight in how slow he was in the morning, teasing him before she pushed a cup of coffee towards him to let him wake up.

“Why is there a delivery man outside of my door, Sutan?”

Sutan opened his eye, the clock on his bedside table telling him it was a little after 4, and therefore 10 in Paris just as he had planned. “It made it there okay?” It was Saturday, Sutan’s head still a little heavy from the party he had gone to last night with Tatianna, the model one of the only girls he was genuinely sad about leaving behind.

“Sutan I’m not joking, you have four seconds to tell me what going on or I’m going to explod-”

“It’s our new bed.” Sutan could hear on Violet’s voice that he wasn’t going to be allowed back to sleep anytime soon, the woman sometimes calling him with a quick update, a simple question he could answer or to say she loved him, which meant he could roll over and go back to sleep, but this wasn’t going to one of them. Sutan sat up, rubbing his eyes before he put on his glasses. Neither of them were great at texting, Violet hating it, so they called, even though it didn’t really work for either of them compared to being together physically. “Already paid for.” Sutan got out of bed, not turning on the lights as he made his way to the kitchen for a glass of water.

“You got us a new bed?”

“You’re dating an old man.” Sutan smiled to himself, the 18 year age gap between them sometimes seeming like it didn’t exist, and other times like it was an ocean of things they had to overcome. Right now though, it was thankfully just amusing. “You may be able to sleep on a crappy mattress on the floor, but I need to sleep in an actual bed, with back support.” Sutan turned on the tap, quickly filling a glass. “Is the delivery man still outside?”

“Maybe.” Sutan could hear Violet biting her lip, an annoyed huff coming from her. “Will it fit?”

“Measured and everything.”

“When did you even- No, no, nevermind, I-”

“.. Are you okay?” Sutan hadn’t even considered that Violet would dislike the bed, his girlfriend never expressing any opinion on furniture, both her room in Fame’s apartment and what he had seen of her home in Paris telling him she didn’t care, but his stomach still twisted, telling him he had made a mistake. “Is this okay?”

“I am, just...” Sutan could hear a deep breath. “Ask next time. Please?”

“I will.” Sutan took a drink of his water. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re forgiven.” Violet’s voice was warm, the woman whispering into the phone. “I can’t wait to try it with you when you return.”

“Fuck.” Sutan groaned, the sound of her in his ear making warmth run down his spine. “God, long distance is killing me.”

Violet laughed. “I’ll talk to you later.”

“I’ll talk to you too.” Violet hung up, Sutan standing alone in his dark kitchen, his toes slowly turning to ice, Sutan quietly cursing himself for the fact that he hadn’t taken his slippers with him. This was hard, but it was worth it. Violet was worth it, and they would be worth it when everything worked out.

[garden-of-succulents]

Jack can be a girl's name

1.5k of pre-canon trans Jack fic for Paulina, who’s a tireless advocate of trans fic in fandom. Brief misgendering; may paint a rosy view of women’s hockey culture in Canada, but let’s have some wish fulfillment.

2008

The campus in summer was warm and drowsy, golden sunlight and rustling trees; the girls on the team saw it through windows from their air-conditioned gym, or the dim cold of the ice rink. They were working harder than they ever had before, but still, there was a summer-vacation air to it. It was exciting. They’d come from all over Canada to play hockey, to potentially qualify for the national team; some of them had never played against girls as good as they were before. Three of their coaches were Olympians, one of them could only come on a limited schedule because she was also working at the Canadiens’ prospect camp; other members of the national team came in sometimes, during lunch or in the dorms in the evening, to hang out and get to know them. It felt like the cup of possibility was held to their lips; it made them bold.

So they had plans for Coach Gill’s other student, who came out to the rink when they were doing conditioning in the gym across the hall. He passed them in the hall when they were coming out of the locker room, swerved to avoid hitting any of them with his hockey bag and kept his eyes averted, and disappeared into the echoing boys’ locker room with their curious stares behind him. They knew Jack Zimmermann was 17, played in the Q, the son of an NHL legend, and already the top draft prospect for 2009; his parents paid for private lessons for him with a three-time Olympian, on top of the hockey school he was going to this summer.

Hopefully he was going to be easier to beat than he was to shock. They shared one table in the underpopulated cafeteria, and he took his tray to sit alone at the nearest unpopulated one. He ate steadily at lunch through their most graphic descriptions of sex and bodily functions, two days running, looked up and said, “That’s nice,” when they asked loudly what he thought about their coach getting married to another woman.

So, on to phase 2. Mackenzie and Amy made a beeline for Zimmermann at his table, where he was eating pasta and overhearing a well-projected discussion from ten feet away.

“–Not if he’s on T, but otherwise, he can play.”

“So they have to put off transition until they retire?”

“There’s already a guy on my team. I mean, not like out-out, so the announcers get it wrong, but we know.”

“So do the girls have to be on like, estrogen? Isn’t there still a physical advantage?”

“The gendered division is so stupid anyway, they should–”

“But passing up an NHL salary would be a big problem, like, you could play a couple years and set yourself up for life. Our side doesn’t get that kind of advantage.”

“Yeah but think what it would be like. Either you’re closeted doing the most macho sport ever, or you’re hoping that an entire team of NHL assholes accepts you as a trans girl? Imagine making a trans girl use a boys’ dressing room. Full of boys.”

“I’d welcome a trans woman in the sport,” the adult du jour, captain of Team Canada, says.

“So.” Mackenzie set her tray down next to him, and Jack Zimmermann dropped his spoon.

“Hi,” Amy said, putting hers down on the other side. Mackenzie was going for intimidating, but Amy had to smile. “Can we sit?”

Zimmermann nodded silently, looking like he had difficulty swallowing. Mackenzie leaned her elbows on the table and leaned forward at them. “You busy in the afternoon?”

He shook his head, still trying to clear his mouth.

“We do 3-on-3 in the afternoon,” Amy said. “Most of us are gonna be the U-18 national team. We were wondering if–”

Zimmermann finally got his mouthful down, and blurted out, “I wanna play with you.”

They thought that phrase meant, I want to play against you.

It didn’t.

*

Conditioning, training camp, wasn’t too hard. She could live with those. It was the first day at the Colisée de Rimouski, the first step into a locker room, that made Jack think I can’t do this with the panic of a swimmer about to drown. Made her look at this room full of boys and think Imagine making a trans girl use a boys’ dressing room and start to hyperventilate

Then someone bumped into her from behind, someone in the room noticed her and shouted, “Zimms,” and she went in mechanically, collected fistbumps, sat at her stall. Opened her bag.

The art to making it look inconspicuous was to take the pill out of the bottle with your hands still in the bag, palm the pill, and slip it under your leg, pressed to the bench. Put the bottle back. Do something else. Then grab your water bottle and take it as a separate motion. Kenny was the only person to even notice, and he shrugged. It could have been a painkiller.

Well. In a way it was. By the time she hit the ice, she was calm. She can do this.

2009

She can’t do this.

*

Jack still hadn’t told her parents what happened with the overdose–they were talking like it was still all a mistake. And before she corrected them she got them to give her her cell phone from her bag of personal effects and asked if she can make a phone call.

She doesn’t know if it’ll work, this number. It’s from cards the captain of the women’s national team handed out to all of them, when they were done playing that day. This is a Sunday, and maybe it’s an office number, nine-to-five hours, maybe it…

“Hello?”

Jack closed her eyes and said, “Hi. Um, this is Jack Zimmermann.”

There was a moment of silence, surprise, where Jack’s stomach turned into ice, but maybe it was because they hadn’t talked in a year, because–“Oh my god, kid, are you okay? I saw–”

“I was wondering,” she said, squeezing the words out against that icy pain, “if you still… if you meant it, about letting trans women play.”

Another horrible silence, and then: “Yes. Absolutely. I don’t know what I–yes. Whatever I can do, I’ll do it.”

Jack gasped out in relief, and noticed she’d been crying for the last–forever–and–

“We can do this,” her captain said. “We’ll figure it out.”

2011

“Look up,” Alicia said, “and stick your tongue out.”

“Thith is dumb,” Jack said, trying not to move as Alicia took a firm grip on her face and sketched the eyeliner in with expert hands.

“The tongue stabilizes your eyelids,” Alicia said as she worked. “That’s why it keeps going on crooked for you.”

Jack worked her jaw when she was free, then obediently held her mouth open for lipstick. Her face felt weird and sticky. It was a little better after she closed her mouth and eyes and Alicia blew on finishing powder, but the makeup still felt… heavy.

“Making a good first impression,” Alicia encouraged, setting a hand on Jack’s shoulder. “You look great.”

Jack was a little more dubious, about everything from her makeup to her bob to her dress, but breathed out and tried to feel ready anyway.

“You’re… still sure about your name?” Alicia asks, for one last time.

“Jack can be a girl’s name,” she repeats mechanically. Alicia lets it go.

The Samwell Women’s Hockey welcome barbecue is held in the summer sunset of the quad outside Founders, people piling their plates with hamburgers and potato chips; some of them, like Jack, are in summer dresses, others in athletic gear, one other freshman with a mother at her shoulder the way Alicia is at Jack’s in a sports blazer and dress pants.

“Knight,” the other frog mutters, pumping Jack’s hand. “Call me Knight.”

“Oh,” Alicia asks brightly behind them. “Any relation to–?” and Knight tows Jack away to a food table before their mothers can make them stay and talk about geneaology.

Jack turns down the mickey Knight pulls out of an interior blazer pocket and feels a little uneasy, but Knight’s constant stream of chatter (“–wanted me to go to Harvard, but I’m glad as fuck I didn’t apply, so much better here. Where are you housed? Yeah, I’m in Lyons too, third floor”) is a safe refuge to come back to when she’s made forays into greeting the rest of the team. Some of them are polite, others welcoming, some of them she’s already talked to on the phone, but none of them seem as desperately glad to have Jack to talk to. Knight even keeps up a running sotto voce stream of commentary during the coaches’ welcoming speech.

And then the moment it ends she says, “Thank god that’s over,” and strips off her blazer, handing it carefully to Jack. Jack takes it, surprised, and hesitantly trails the teammate who’s ambling somewhat drunkenly away from the lights of the quad. A few other teammates come with them, and then one girl who Knight seemed to know a little bit hurtles past them, whooping and screaming, and tosses her dress off and plunges into the Pond in panties and bra.

Jack keeps picking up clothes, feeling a little rude but not certain that they have good plans for them otherwise, and sees when Knight strips down to boxer-briefs and a binder before diving into the water.

Oh, she thinks, like it’s lighting her up from inside. Oh, you too.

“Get rid of those,” Knight shouts at her, surfacing and splashing outrageously. “Get in here!”

“It’s tradition!” somebody else yells, and other girls around them are jumping in too. Jack looks back at the adults, where one coach is smiling and another covering her eyes with resigned laughter. Her mom is patting Mrs. Knight’s back reassuringly.

She catches Jack’s eye, makes a shooing motion.

“Hey,” Knight says five minutes later, when Jack has dunked three people and been dunked twice. “Your mascara is running.”

“Thank God,” Jack says, scrubbing at her eyes. “I hate that stuff.” She looks up. “How is it?”

Knight sputters helplessly with laughter, and Jack has to laugh too. “Like you’ve got a double shiner,” Knight gasps, holding his stomach. “C'mere, let’s go dry off and I’ll help you get it off for real.”

[bangtanboysoneshot7]

Desperate for Love [Suga Angst]

“Desperate for love is a weak emotion.” 

You wanted him to grab your hand, hold it and make you feel loved and warm just by the slight touch. You wanted him to look at you, like you were the only girl for him, the only one who could capture his heart. You wanted to have those lips on yours, giving you the first kiss worth remembering. You wanted him to love you, feel the same for you as you felt for him.

Min Yoongi was cold when you knew that deep down, he was a warm hearted person who cared. Under all that fake stone hard face, you knew there was once a different Yoongi. Although he was rude and mean towards everyone, including you, you still found yourself in deep, deep love.

You wished that you could say that you could see who the nice Min Yoongi was. But you couldn’t. He wasn’t readable. His mysterious vibes and personality was something any other human would avoid. He wasn’t someone you wanted to involve yourself in.

The problem was, you couldn’t keep yourself away from him.

He was beautiful.

He was beautiful with whatever scar he had over his heart that made him the way he was.

Min Yoongi was your roommate of three years and through all those years, never once have you heard him laugh or seen him smile. He didn’t do smiles, he smirked.

Since the day he moved into your apartment after contacting you and asking if you were still hiring out the guest room, you had accepted him after searching up him on Facebook. He was hot, was your first thought when that profile picture of him appeared on your screen, late that evening.

Now, three years later, it still felt like you knew as much about him as you knew three years ago, nothing much, even if you were now his girlfriend of a month.

After years of threats and deals from your side, you were now his girlfriend but that didn’t mean that he was any different. He still made it pretty clear that the two of you should keep your lives separately although you lived in the same apartment.

“Food’s ready!” You shouted and placed down the two plates of creamy pasta that you had made for yourself and Yoongi.

A few minutes later, Yoongi appeared with a towel over his shoulders, his hair still wet from the shower. Your eyes automatically travelled down his tight fitting tee before up to his well sculpted face again. “Uhm- Here.” You said, blushing before giving him his fork.

“Thanks.” 

You nodded and sat down in front of him on one of the bar stools.

This was what he could do to you. One moment you could be perfectly fine, talking like a normal person and even singing to one of your favourite songs. But whenever he looked that good, which was basically everyday, you couldn’t help but fangirl over your own boyfriend, on the inside.

“How was your day?” You asked, taking a bite from your pasta.

“Great.”

Once again, you nodded and bit your bottom lip, not knowing what to say next since he didn’t ask you about your day.

“I had a great day today, I went to the interview I told you about two days ago. You know the one for the skin care company?” That somehow caught his attention because he looked up to you from his phone with raised eyebrow.

“The Face Shop?” You nodded, gulping down some water. “Yeah, that one. I know you told me not to apply for that work but there’s absolutely no other choice. I’ve been trying to find a job - for what - over a year now.”

“I told you I don’t want you to work at that place. You can find another job, Y/N.” He said, looking at you with a seriousness that you had never seen him in before.

“Why? I need money and they’re kind enough to let me work there. I’ve met the boss as well. She’s really kind and she’s young, perfect. I don’t want to get into a fight with an old lady again.” I explained, remembering back to my previous job that I said up from because of the bossy bitch of an owner.

The fork he was holding on was set down with a thud before he stood up, his breathing hard.

“I’ll tell you once again, Y/N. I don’t want you to work there and it’s best if you listen to me.” He warned, making you completely shocked. “What?”

“Listen, we can find you another job, okay?”

“No. This is my chance, Yoongi. My boss even told me that she was going to pay me more if I could do my work. I won’t just give that up because you said so. And what’s up with that tone? Why would you use that tone with your… with your girlfriend?”

“You gotta be kidding me,” he sighed and pulled a hand through his hair. “Are you using that against me right now? So what if you’re my girlfriend? Do you even consider this as a relationship? Have you even had a boyfriend before? How childish are you, Y/N?!” Shocked and angry, you stood up as well and walked over to his side, facing him.

“So what if I consider this as a relationship? So what if you’re my first boyfriend? So what if I’m being childish? At least I’m not being moody twenty-four seven, like you!” You snapped, glaring at him.

He didn’t even budge a bit. He just stared at you. Before he burst out into laughter.

If it was any day but that day, you’d be happy to finally hear his laugh but then you realized that this wasn’t a laugh that told you that this was all a joke, that he was just kidding, that everything had been a prank.

No, it was a humorless one and you hated it more then his stone hard, careless face.

“Agreeing to this ridiculous thing was a big fucking mistake. You’re naive, bothersome and nothing but a big fucking mistake. You’re desperate, Y/N.” He picked up a napkin and wiped his mouth before throwing it on the not up eaten plate of pasta. He was turning around, stalking towards his room when you decided that it was enough.

“Do you even like me, Min Yoongi? Or am I just what you just called, naive, bothersome and a fucking big mistake? Oh, and let’s not forget desperate. Is that everything you see in me?” You asked, swallowing the lump in your throat. This was not a time to look like a loser.

“That’s exactly what I think of you, Y/N. The only reason I agreed to the whole boyfriend and girlfriend thing was because I felt bad for you. You’re desperate for me to show you any kind of affection and it got annoying, I had to do something. And then you’re naive, not even realising that I don’t want anything to do with you.”

You took a few steps towards him with your clenched fists by your side to keep you sane. “Why are you like this? Why are you treating me like I’m nothing when all I’ve done is to care for you?”

He looked at you and something in his eyes flicked before it vanished and he was back to his stone cold face. But this time, there was a frown on his face.

“You want to know why?” He asked before continuing without even waiting for my response.

“You’re not my style. You’re not someone I can fall in love with. You’re childish and annoying and carefree. You fall too easily and you love too hard.”

It hurt, what he said, it hurt like a thousands of needles just went through your whole body before repeating the same process for several times. God. “That’s not the only reason, isn’t it?” You asked, challenging him to confess everything.

“There’s more than those things about me, right? You’re cold to everyone. You’re rude and you don’t care about people who cares for you. Why are you like this, Min Yoongi? Why do you treat people like they’re not worth a shit?” With each question, you took a step closer to where he stood, just outside his room.

He seemed shocked about your questions because something flicked in his eyes once again, but this time, it stayed. He looked so fragile that you were afraid that he was going to break. You had never seen him react to something you said like that. He’d usually just ignore it because, apparently, you were annoying.

“Answer the damn question, Min Yoongi.” You said, this time, you took two big steps until you were a few feet away from him. “Why do you keep pushing me away?”

Silence.

“You’re not her.”

It was enough but he didn’t stop there.

“You’re not her and you will never be her. You’re name’s not Ji Hyo. You don’t have her short, wavy hair. You don’t look like her and you don’t even have the same accent. You don’t have dresses and you don’t use make up. You’re desperate for my attention when I was the one desperate for her attention.” His eyes softened but his shoulders stiffened, as well as his whole body.

“Have you ever loved someone so much that it hurts just by knowing that she could still have such an affection on you everyday because of her damn company?! Her face is everywhere I go and now, I’ll need to hear about her from your mouth as well?” You gulped and watched as his forehead made a small crease between his eyebrows.

“I love her even when she’s not here but I don’t love you even when you’re here, constantly. I miss her when the last thing I want is to see her but I don’t miss you even if you leave home for days. I need her as if she’s my oxygen but I don’t need you even if you give me everything that I need. I want her like she’s some kind of obsession but I don’t want you, because you’re too easy.”

“Stop, please, stop.” You said, collapsing down on the floor when you felt like your legs would give out any time.

He looked down at you before saying something that would break you and leave scars all over.

“I will never be able to let her go, like I can let you go.”

I FINISHED WRITING THIS ONE IN TWO HOURS, NEW RECORD!!

Hello my butterflies!

Hope you guys are doing great and enjoying your weekend. I’ve missed you guys dearly, I’ve missed writing one shots and spending some time here on tumblr. 

And tomorrow’s bangtanboysoneshot7′s seventeenth anniversary! Wow, it’s been over a year since we started this blog and I’ve met so many great people here and improved my writing as well as gotten steps closer to ARMY and BTS by heart. 

I hope you enjoyed this one shot, please let me know if you did by giving it a heart and if you want a part 2, please let me know about that as well! 

I miss & love you loads! Please take care! ~

[emetoandotherthings]

for whichever ocs you want to answer these for, because i know you have a ton at this point and it would be cruel to ask you to answer for all of them: what are each of your ocs top 3 goals? fears? insecurities? pet peeves? (if you've been asked these before just ignore me XD)

So, this ask has been in my inbox for a couple of days, but that’s cause it’s taken me a while to go through all this! I am going to answer these questions for all of my ocs so this is a warning that is definitely IS going to get hella long! 😜 I really loved these questions so thank you so much Casper! 💜

Top 3 Goals for each OC:

Jude:1) To qualify as a teacher.2) To travel around Australia. 3) To have a family. 

Eden:1) To be happy.2) To do something worthwhile with his life (but he doesn’t know what yet) 3) To have a family. 

Leyton:1) To become a lawyer.2) To provide for his family.3) To own a Porsche by age 25. 

Alba: 1) To travel the world. 2) To live and teach abroad. 3) To learn four different languages.

Eppie: 1) To get her surgery. 2) To do a PhD and work with hormones. 3) To be comfortable with herself. 

Jack: Fuck three things - Jack just wants to feel loved and like he belongs. 

Aiden:1) To be a nurse and help people.2) To sing on the stage of the Carnegie Hall in America (He’s already sung on the original one!)3) To be part of a “proper” family. 

Blake: 1) To make it as a full time musician. 2) He’d love to release his own acoustic EP. 3) To be happy. 

Lindsey: 1) To get to the olympics as a weightlifter. 2) To climb Mount Everest.3) To ascend the Machu Picchu temple. 

Damian: 1) To qualify as a doctor. 2) To train as a surgeon. 3) To be a Consultant at age 30. 

Cain: 1) To design eco friendly and affordable houses for those who are homeless.2) To be happy. 3) to always be close with his family no matter what.

Jenna:1) To design costumes for Broadway2) To be involved with London Fashion week. 3) To design her own wedding dress and stitch it herself!

Jesse: 1) To publish some of his poetry.2) To skate in the top 10 skate parks around the world.3) To be happy.

Zara:1) To join the army.2) To equal her father’s rank within 5 years.3) For her father to finally recognise that she’s as worthy as a son would have been. 

Aleksander:1) To qualify as a doctor. 2) To be able to provide for his family. 3) To get married. 

Murray:1) To open his own dance studio.2) To be involved/set up a scheme abroad to teach dance and literacy to underprivileged children. 3) To live his life to the absolute full!

What are the OCs fears? (I’m going to go with biggest fears for this, so I hope that’s okay!) 

Jude: Jude doesn’t really like being in the dark on his own... he also is freaked out by worms!Eden: Eden hates feeling like he’s let someone/anyonedown, it’s partly why he gets so anxious over silly little things.Leyton: ahahahahahahahahaha vomiting!Alba: Her deepest fear is dying before she gets to do everything she wants to...Eppie: Flying!Jack: Ending up alone, or dying alone. He’s also got a thing about mirrors in the dark. Aiden:  Apart from heights, itwould be rejection. Blake: Making a fool of himself inpublic (which seems ironic as he’s a musician, but it’s kind of a paradoxicalthing). Lindsey: Being irreparably injured to the point of not being able to train or compete. Damian:  He really wants to succeed with everything he does, his biggest fear is probably being a disappointment to those he cares about. Cain:  Cain is absolutely petrified of needles! He can’t even think about them without going cold and wobbly all over!Jenna: She is really really really really really scared of snakes.Jesse:  He used to really fear rejection - and the future. It’s mostly like the unknown and uncertainty that freaks Jesse out. Zara: She really hates displaying weakness. There’ssomething about it which intrinsically makes her blood run cold, especially thethought of being weak in front of people she doesn’t know. Aleksander: Death, or very unexpectedly losingsomeone. Murray: He has an intense fear of water, particularlylarge open stretches of water after a traumatic incident when he wasyounger. 

What are the OCs insecurities? (This is also on a very broad sense for all of them, if you want to know any more just ask!) 

Jude: Being viewed as less than adequate - or not coming up to expectations! (Also his height!) Eden: Not feeling worthy or deserving. Leyton: He doesn’t have many insecurities, he’s quite self assured...Alba: Being viewed as a drifter... or conversely, only where she is because of her dad’s money. Eppie: This will sound ridiculous, but her hands. She feels like she’s got man hands and they make her very uncomfortable. Jack: Of being himself! Of being real around people that he cares about and being rejected.Aiden: That he doesn’t fit anywhere, with anyone. Blake: Of being viewed as ruthless for doing what he needs to make it in the music industry. Lindsey: Her dyslexia. Damian: Being able to maintain good relationships with people. Cain: Letting people down. Jenna: Her height and her weight - her appearance in general really. Jesse: That he’ll be viewed as dumb because he didn’t go to high school. Zara: That she’s not a boy. Aleksander: Of constantly falling behind because of his CVS. Murray: Of not living up to his dad’s expectations. 

What are your OCs pet peeves?

Jude: People who have obnoxiously loud conversations on their phones while in public places - particularly on public transport and especially first thing in the morning. Eden: People who find out about his anxiety and make comments like “Oh me too! I get really nervous before exams!”, etc...Leyton: People who don’t wash their hands after going to the toilet. Alba: When someone hovers behind her when she’s trying to work. Eppie: People who start with comments with ‘no offence’ or ‘I don’t mean to be rude’ - like that excuses their next comment. Jack: People (aka Lindsey) whotake food from his plate without asking if they can have any (he has been knownto stab people with his fork if they try!)Aiden: Those who scuff their feetwhile walking - this is a particular issue in the hospital with patients inhospital issue slippers…Blake: When he’s walking along and the person in frontstops abruptly so he either ends up banging into them or having to do a suddenswerve! Move to the side rather than stop in the middle of the street!Lindsey: Public displays ofaffection - they really kind of creep her out. She can’t tell you why, but justdon’t start kissing in front of her. Damian: People whoare “voluntarily” gluten free without any medical reasons, cause Damianwould kill to be able to eat bread or pasta, or pretty much anything withouthaving to think about it. Cain: People who get up from wherethey’ve been working/eating, but just leave all their litter around them likesomeone else should clear up after them. Jenna: People who say thingslike “oh you’re just studying costume design?” as though it’s easyand that absolutely anyone could do it!Jesse: People who don’t respectpersonal space, or who ask impertinent questions about his gender. Zara:  People who are chronicallylate (she once bought Cain a watch as a “gift” because he was late sooften!)Aleksander: People who spell his namewrong, particularly in emails - like his name is part of his email address,don’t write Aleksander in the email and then Alexander as the title!Murray: People who interrupt, ortalk over him when he’s clearly notfinished talking!

[the-girl-in-the-band-tshirt]

Rum and Cupcakes (Chapter 2)

I’m feeling extra generous since it’s Valentine’s Day, so here’s chapter 2! Lots more to come! I hope you love it, @a-city-dove !

Chapter 1: http://the-girl-in-the-band-tshirt.tumblr.com/post/157246086069/rum-and-cupcakes-chapter-1

Read it on Ao3: http://archiveofourown.org/works/9708698/chapters/21925364

       Emma sat back as she watched her customers enjoy her cupcakes. It was the busiest day she’d had in awhile. She sent Mary Margaret a quick text thanking her for forcing her out last night, followed by another in which she apologized for embarrassing herself and anyone who knew her with what Emma called “the Killian situation.” Emma was so pleased with herself, she even attached a picture of her cupcakes to prove to Mary Margaret that she was doing better; her frosting was multi-colored and looking the best it’s looked all week. Emma ate a French toast cupcake and some microwaved pasta for lunch before making some more cupcakes for the afternoon rush. She decided she’d to get carry out from Granny’s for dinner because she was sick of eating half-warmed microwave dinners. She was finally starting to get used to Ruby’s absence, and she figured she could go back to being alone again. She just needed to find the happy medium between alone but dependent, and complete social hibernation. Ruby had texted her 26 times by the time she closed the shop for the day, so she grabbed a grilled cheese and onion rings to-go from Granny’s and called Ruby as she ate her dinner, actually at her table rather than the couch. She found herself smiling and laughing as Ruby filled Emma in on the hot movie director who gave her a job making costumes for his movie.

       “You should see him, Em, he’s so hot. He’s got this sandy brown hair and bright green eyes. And his abs- Oh. My. Gosh.”

       “Has he given into your Ruby charm yet?” Emma knew Ruby had probably been flirting her pretty ass off. Most guys drooled over Ruby at first sight.

       “No.” Emma could hear the disbelief in Ruby’s response, but Emma knew Ruby wasn’t used to being rejected. “I’m about ready to pounce. You know, like a wolf.” Ruby growled and laughed as Emma opened her mouth to warn Ruby,

       “Oh no. Don’t pounce, Rubes. Nothing good can come from that.” Emma thought back to Killian the previous night, actually physically cringing at the memory. She debated whether or not to tell her best friend.

       “I don’t think I can flirt any harder.”

       “Well if he hasn’t given in yet, maybe you should give it up and look for a new conquest.”

       “I haven’t been gone that long.” Emma rolled her eyes even though she knew Ruby couldn’t see her. “You know I won’t give up. I’ll get him.”

       “Just” - Emma sighed; she had been defeated - “be careful, okay?”

       “Yes, mother.”

       “Ruby, I’m serious. You don’t want to get your hopes up if he’s only going to disappoint you in the end.” She felt the impact of her words as she thought of how much of a joke she must have looked like to Killian. Not wanting Ruby to pry, she added, “Plus, he’s your boss.”

       “So you’re saying I can pounce on him once the movie’s done?” Emma could practically see Ruby’s bedroom eyes through the phone.

       “If you haven’t found someone else by then, I guess.” She chewed on her bottom lip and twirled an onion ring on her finger, wishing the conversation would end. The memory of Killian weighed heavily in her mind, and she knew it was just a matter of time before she blurted it out to Ruby.

       “So.” Emma was snapped out of her own thoughts. “How’s your across the street neighbor?”

       “Actually, no one’s moved in yet.” Emma took a bite of her sandwich.

       “Really? I know someone bought the space.”

       “Still empty. I checked earlier today.” Emma distinctly remembered noting that the building was as empty as it had been the past week. “Do you know the name of who bought the space?”

       “Nah. Regina wouldn’t tell me. She’s always hated me.”

       “That’s not true.” It was true.

       “Em.”

       “Okay, okay. Maybe a little. What did you ever do to her?” Emma gathered her dinner trash and threw it away, cradling the phone between her cheek and her shoulder.

       “Nothing. I’ve always been a perfect, law-abiding citizen.” Both girls laughed, but not because it was an untrue statement. Ruby had always been perfectly respectable when she needed to be. “Anyway, how have you been? Mary Margaret texted me that your cupcakes were mourning my loss.”

       “She did not.”

       “Well, maybe not in those exact words, but she told me you wouldn’t answer any of her calls. Or David’s. She was worried about you.” Crap. She could feel the memory of last night threatening to leave her mouth.

       “I’m okay. I just needed a few days to get used to you not being around,” Emma relocated to her couch, lying down horizontally so her feet dangled over the end of it.

       “You sure you’re okay, Em? I know you.”

       “I’m fine. I promise. I even went out with Mary Margaret last night.” There it was.

       “Where’d you go?”

       “The Rabbit Hole.” Oh, what she wouldn’t give for more of that rum right at this moment.

       “Did you guys have fun? You’re not replacing me in girl’s night, right?” Her words were laced with threats.

       “I could never replace you, Rubes. You’re still my best friend, even if you’re on the other side of the country.” The sadness returned as Emma uttered those words. She acknowledged the distance aloud, making it sink in and reminding her of how harsh reality is.

       “So, did you have fun?”

       “Yeah. I guess.” Emma shrugged, not that Ruby could see.

       “That doesn’t sound convincing.” Don’t ask. Don’t ask. Don’t ask. “What happened?” Damn.

       “I uh… I sorta uh…” Emma felt her cheeks grow hot as she tried to find the words to tell Ruby what happened without making her look like a total idiot.

       “Em, did you sleep with someone last night?” Ruby spoke slowly, trying to hide the anticipation in her voice.

       “Not exactly,” Emma coughed.

       “What does that mean?” Ruby was uncharacteristically silent, forcing Emma to tell her.

       “There was a new guy. And he was really hot. He sat next to me and he flirted with me, I think he did anyway. Well, I really wanted to sleep with him, you know, a one night stand and all, emotionless sex. But he rejected me when I came onto him and yeah. Oh, and I was kinda drunk, so I was all over him, which made things worse when he told me no.” Emma squeezed her eyes shut and hoped Ruby wouldn’t press the issue.

       “I need details. Play-by-play. Go.” Emma groaned, but started her story anyway.

       “Well Mary Margaret and I were at the bar. And I had a few glasses of rum-”

       “How many?”

       “What?”

       “How many?”

       “Is that relevant?”

       “Yes. I know levels of Emma drunkenness. And I also know you’re rolling your eyes right now. So, how many?” Emma honestly didn’t know, but the conversation paused as she did the calculation in her head.

       “Probably eight or so by the time he walked in.”

       “Eight?!” Emma pulled the phone from her ear in response to Ruby’s screeching.

       “You know Jefferson only fills the glass a quarter of the way! So it was really only two full glasses!” Emma started to defend herself, but Ruby wasn’t having any of it.

       “Emma, that is way too many. I can’t believe Mary Margaret didn’t stop you. This is why you need me around.”

       “Are you done?”

       “Yes. I’m sorry. Continue.”

       “Well, he sat next to me and he also ordered rum. He mentioned that he likes girls who like rum. Oh, wait, he used the word ‘lass.’ Who even talks like that? Oh, and he also had a British accent.”

       “Ooh, a British guy. I’ve taught you well.”

       “Yes, you have. Anyway, he told me his name, Killian-”

       “Nice name. That’s a hot guy’s name for sure.”

       “I am never going to get through this story if you keep interrupting,” Emma laughed.

       “Sorry. Please finish.”

       “Alright, well, I told him my first name and he started asking me for information, but I cut him off and told him the less we know about each other, the better. And he made this comment like he’d really get to know me. Mary Margaret tried to get me to leave because she could see me being an idiot, but I told her no so she went to talk to Regina while I made more of a fool of myself. Then he called me beautiful, so I tried to make myself more uhh… alluring. I was wearing that pink dress you got me for girl’s night Valentine’s Day last year.”

       “I’m interrupting to tell you how hot you look in that dress. Seriously, you look smokin’ Emma. I can’t believe any man could say no to you in that thing.” Emma grinned. She’d excuse this interruption. Emma thought she looked good in that dress too; maybe Killian was the weird one.

       “Thank you,” Emma giggled. “I sorta leaned real close to him and whispered in his ear seductively asking if he wanted to get out of there, and he said yes, but he didn’t want to take advantage of me in my state.”

       “Gentleman.” Ruby sounded impressed.

       “It gets worse.”

       “What did you do?”

       “I couldn’t believe he said no, so I stared at him because I didn’t have a response. He had to pry me off of him. He was wearing a shirt that was only buttoned at the bottom and well, I was stroking his chest hair.”

       “Emma you weren’t.” Ruby was trying really hard not to laugh, and Emma could hear it.

       “I was. And if that wasn’t mortifying enough, he pried me off him and paid for his drinks and mine. He paid for me, even though I basically groped him, knowing nothing more than his name. Mary Margaret took me home after he left. Ruby, I am so embarrassed. I just hope I never see this Killian Jones ever again.”

       “Wow.”

       “I know.” Emma heard Ruby laughing on her end of the call, and she couldn’t help but break down into chuckles herself. She was a moron. “I almost feel like I should apologize for coming onto him like that, but that would involve me facing him and that is never going to happen.”

       “I can’t believe you did that. Clearly you need me in your life.”

       “Shut up.”

       “I feel better about my director now. Thanks, Emma.”

       “Shut up, again.”

       “Alright, alright. Thanks for the story. The cast is headed to go get dinner, so I’ve gotta go. Talk to you soon?”

       “Absolutely. Have fun.” Emma was a bit relieved; she needed to get to sleep so she could function at work tomorrow.

       “You know I will.” There was no doubt in Emma’s mind this statement was accompanied by a double eyebrow wiggle. “Love you, Em. I’ll text you tomorrow.”

       “Alright. Bye, Ruby.” Emma hung up the phone before Ruby could say her own goodbye. Telling her story had been horrifying, but she was so glad to be talking to Ruby again. Emma plugged her phone in to charge overnight before curling up with her duckling pillow and falling asleep.

       Emma continued her routine for another week. She went from her apartment, to work, to Granny’s, then to her apartment again. She texted Ruby or Mary Margaret or David, but only when they texted her first. Routines worked for her; she was productive. Her frosting didn’t turn depressing at all that week. Her routine was interrupted when she looked out the window as she was opening the curtains at the front of her store to find that whoever owned the building across the street was finally starting to move in. Rather than the dark, empty building, Emma was greeted by a moving truck and a pile of boxes right inside her neighbor’s shop. She thought it could be nice to have someone new in the neighborhood. She decided she’d come over after she closed up to welcome her new neighbor and help unpack if there were still sealed boxes; she couldn’t help but think Mary Margaret would be proud. She kept peeking outside throughout the day, hoping to see the shop’s new inhabitant, but the moving truck eventually disappeared without her getting so much as a glimpse of the shop owner. Emma checked the clock for the hundredth time that day and decided it was time to start a small batch of cupcakes to bring across the street. She made some hot chocolate flavored cupcakes with marshmallow frosting; she didn’t know what flavors the new person liked yet, and who doesn’t like hot cocoa? She cleaned the shop while the cupcakes were in the oven, timing her clean-up perfectly. She paused her sweeping and scrubbing to remove her cupcakes from the oven and let them cool before she frosted them. She put the last chair up onto its table right when her oven timer went off, letting her know the cupcakes were cool enough to frost without danger of melting the frosting. Emma carefully applied frosting to the tops of her cupcakes, wanting to make a good first impression with the person she’d be working across from indefinitely. She put her jacket on after she boxed the cupcakes and grabbed a marker to scrawl out a quick Welcome to the neighborhood! -Emma before running across the street and knocking on the shop door. She stood outside with a welcoming smile on her face, waiting for whoever was in the shop to answer. She saw a man approach the door dressed in a white t-shirt and jeans.

       “Hello there. Can I help you?” Another man with blue eyes and an accent. What are the odds?

       “Hi! I own the cupcake shop across the street” She held out the box of cupcakes. The man smiled as he read her note at the top of the box.

       “Sweet of you, but the shop’s not actually mine.” Emma cocked her head, slightly confused. “I’m just helping unload the truck.” The man turned to face the back of the store and yelled, “Killian! There’s a lass at the door for you!” Really, “lass” again?

       “Wait, Killian?” She shook her head. This couldn’t be happening. Maybe it was a different Killian? Or not. Killian isn’t exactly a common name. Still, she thought she’d confirm before she ran away, taking the cupcakes with her. “Killian Jones?” The man pivoted to face her.

       “Yeah. Have you two met?” This guy was clearly friends with Killian; did he really not know what happened that night in the bar? Was it possible Killian didn’t tell him? Regardless of what Killian’s friend knew, she was desperate to escape the situation.

       “Look, I…I have to go. I’ll, well just give him these for me.” She thrust the box toward him and turned around to run, but she froze when she heard unmistakable chuckling. Crap.

       “Leaving so soon?” She turned and ended up face to face with the man she basically jumped. “Hello, love.”

       “I’m not your love” He held his hands up to convey his innocence.

       “Apologies, lass.” He extended a hand, “Killian Jones. Nice to meet you.”

       “Emma.” Her eyes flickered between the two men.

       “This is my mate, Robin. He was just helping me move in, but he has a date with the mayor he should probably be getting to if he wants a job.” The other man - Robin, apparently - nodded and waved to Killian as he slipped out the door and disappeared behind Emma.

       “You didn’t tell him?”

       “Of course not.” She had no response. Why didn’t he tell his friend about the drunk chick who tried to take him home? Clearly the surprise showed on her face, as he felt the need to explain further. “You were drunk. You must have had a rough day or something that drove you to it. I figured you’d be embarrassed enough when you came to. Why would I make it worse?” Dammit. He was still just as charming when she was sober as he was when she was drunk. She was at a loss for where to go from here, but she was determined to make a better impression this time.

       “Emma Swan.” He raised an eyebrow.

       “Swan,” he repeated. She had to admit it sounded good coming from his mouth. She had to shake herself out of it; last time she saw him, she tried to get him to sleep with her. She came on way too hard and made a total fool of herself, and he had rejected her. He couldn’t let him win.

       “I own the cupcake shop across the street.”

       “Ah. The sweet scents were coming from your shop.” He popped the “p” sound at the end of his sentence. She couldn’t let him charm the anger out of her.

       “I came to ask if you needed any help moving in, but turns out you already had that.” He nodded, but didn’t speak, clearly waiting on her to decide what direction to take this interaction. “Look, I built a successful business. I have regular customers. Just don’t mess with my business, got it?”

       “Aye.”

       “Alright then.” She moved to leave when she remembered the cupcakes. “Oh, these are for you. Welcome to the neighborhood, I guess.”

       “Thanks, Swan.” He smiled as he looked inside.

       “It’s Emma.” She crossed her arms.

       “I like Swan,” he said, shrugging. She stared at him.

       “What kind of shop are you opening anyway?”

       “A bookstore. ‘The Jolly Roger.’” He swiped a finger across one of the cupcakes, licking the frosting off the digit.

       “Jolly Roger? Like Captain Hook’s pirate ship?” She tried to look anywhere but at his mouth tight around his finger.

       “Indeed.” He smirked as he removed his finger from his mouth to speak. “That was delicious. Is that” - he licked his lips - “marshmallow? Mmm.” She ignored the compliment.

       “You know he’s the bad guy, right?”

       “Clearly you haven’t read the book.”

       “Well no, but-”

       “Pan is the real villain. I’d explain, but I would hate to spoil the book for you; it would be bad form. Stop by when I open. I’ll give you a copy, free of charge.” Emma rolled her eyes as she turned to walk away.

       “Just don’t mess with my shop.” She started moving toward her car. He called after her,

       “See you soon, Swan!” She could practically hear him smiling.

       “Later, Jones.” If she never saw Killian Jones again it would be too soon. Too bad she’d see him every day when she went to work. She was going to need a lot of alcohol to get through seeing him every day. Then again, maybe she should stay away from alcohol when it came to Killian Jones.

       “Bye, August!” Emma yelled after the man who was walking back to his truck after helping her with one of her regular ingredient deliveries. He helped her carry in industrial-sized bags of sugars and flours, and he wheeled the insane amount of egg cartons into the shop so she could refrigerate them as soon as possible. She grabbed the last four bags of flour, and August only left when she convinced him she could manage them into the shop on her own. The stack went up to her forehead and altogether probably weighed more than she did, but she was determined to handle the bags herself. She waited for the truck to pull away, shifting the bags slightly to relieve some of the pain starting in her wrists, before turning to make her way inside. She started walking toward her shop, stopping every few feet to adjust her grip on the bags. She moved forward, slowly but surely, until suddenly she toppled to the ground, crashing with a thud, a loud groan, and a very large puff of flour. “Seriously?” She opened her eyes to find she was standing in the middle of a cloud of flour that was taking its sweet time to settle. She inhaled, the flour in the air entering her nose and mouth. She coughed, moving backward to escape the flour dust. She caught her breath so she could assess the situation. She wasn’t even sure what happened. One moment she was walking, and then, she thought she hit something before she fell. She waved her hand around, trying to thin the flour cloud as she went to assess the damage. She’d have to order more flour to replace these bags soon. She heard someone else coughing and her eyes widened; she hoped she didn’t hurt anyone. She made her way through the mess to find none other than Killian Jones on the ground, books littering the street around him. Emma’s anger at Killian returned the second she saw him. “You!” Killian’s head jerked upward. “You ran into me!”

       “I’m so sorry, Swan. I was carrying books into the shop and I couldn’t see over them.” He cleared his throat and looked up at her, blue eyes sincere. She shook her head, ignoring the apology.

       “You couldn’t look around them?” His jaw dropped; she was actually blaming him.

       “What about you? You couldn’t look around your little ingredients? You ran into me too!” Her jaw dropped this time.

       “You’re kidding, right? Those bags of flour weighed more than me.”

       “And carrying a stack of 14 books is easy?!” He scanned the ground to take in the state of his books.

       “Your books can be cleaned. I lost all these bags of flour.”

       “These books were from my own personal collection! That’s why they weren’t included in the boxes of my merchandise.” He looked genuinely sad, jaw clenching as he clutched the book closest to him.

       “This is going to cost me so much to replace. You better pay for the new flour I have to order.” She crossed her arms.

       “There were first editions!” He crawled around, gathering a few of his books and trying to wipe the flour from the cover with his hand. He muttered a soft “bloody hell” as he shook the pages out, watching flour drop to the ground. “These are irreplaceable!”

       “Not my problem.” She made no move to help him.

       “Then your flour is not my problem.” His jaw was clenched. She knew she couldn’t win; if she made him pay for the flour, he’d make her pay for the books. She gritted her teeth.

       “Fine.”

       “Fine.” He looked up at her with eyes not containing anger, but sadness. She frowned and leaned down to grab the bags to get them inside. She gathered what she could of the mostly-emptied bags and left him on the ground as she stormed off. It appeared she was making a habit of stomping away from Killian. After she threw out the bad flour and cleaned herself up, she peeked out the window and found Killian sitting on the steps in front of his shop. He had a large stack of books next to him as he meticulously worked a tissue over the cover of the book in his lap. She bit her lower lip, feeling only slightly guilty. He was right; she had also run into him. Still, this was going to cost her. She didn’t budget extra money for flour replacement, so she shifted her focus from the sad sight of Killian to her own issues, calling to order more flour.

       She looked outside again a few hours later. Killian had cleaned as much as he could. At least the books were readable now. He had piled all the books into a stack and bent down to grab them all. When Emma looked outside, she saw Killian with a very tall stack of books in his arms. She chewed her thumbnail as she watched him put the stack down, open the door, and pick it up again to walk inside. The books ended above his head when he picked them up; that must have been how he carried them when he ran into her earlier. When she ran into him? Okay, when they ran into each other. She turned away after she watched him kick the door closed behind him. She had officially lost all hope of getting along with her new across-the-street shop neighbor.