#i wore this fit a couple days ago and wanted to draw my little guy in it 🥹

[mountainshroom]

Happy birthday to me !! ✨

Guys I’m finally 18 am I cool now

[majestyeverlasting]

Could you do prompts 43 and 47 with fatws!bucky x reader? Thank you 😊

♡ Sure! Thank you for sending this request in, I appreciate your patience! These are quite the compatible prompts, and I tried my best to approach them in the most unique way I could manage. To give a summary as to what happens: Bucky and the reader attend a banquet in Washington D.C., but it isn't until afterwards that things take a peculiar turn as the result of a forgotten tube of lipstick. There's lots of cute moments and a little bit of a scare (but that's nothing a nice soak won't be able to ease away). Enjoy!

♡ Prompt 43: "Let me help you."

♡ Prompt 47: "Please let me take care of you, you’re bleeding.”

Remember the Good Parts

All around, there was dancing, talking, and laughter. Formality had been abandoned so that inhibitions could be released. The banquet hall of the hotel seemed elegant enough to have been fit for kings and queens. The paneling of the walls were trimmed with gold and each of the round tables were dressed in white cloth, floral centerpieces sitting in the middle. Hanging above it all were the most beautiful chandeliers. The crystals adorning them sparkled as if they were stars stolen from the night sky.

The invitation had been addressed to both you, and Bucky. Upon opening it, you learned that The Smithsonian Institute wanted to express their gratitude to the donors and sponsors who had shown continued support over the years. Especially in light of the new exhibits coming to the National Air and Space Museum. The evening itself was intended to be a time of meaningful dialogue and celebration.

The two of you didn’t hesitate to RSVP. Not only would it make for a well-deserved weekend trip, but was an opportunity to venture back to D.C. after being away from quite some time.

What came as a pleasant surprise that night was the moment in which you managed to coax Bucky up to dance. Not one word of protest escaped him as you led the way to where others had congregated and were moving to the rhythm of the music. A more relaxed song had started flowing throughout the room as the festivities were drawing closer to an end. You wrapped your arms around his neck and smiled when he placed his hands on your waist, squeezing gently.

“This has been nice,” he said.

You nodded. “It has.”

Part of you still hadn’t gotten over the way he’d cleaned up for the occasion. The dark strands of his hair were getting longer, and he’d gelled them back lightly. And the all black suit he wore made his blue eyes appear even bolder. After the two of you had been swaying for a while, you spoke again, “You know what I think?”

Bucky’s eyes flickered to your lips. You wore a rich, burgundy lipstick that complemented your dress and complexion. “What?” He encouraged.

“We ought to take a nice, warm bath when we get back up to our suite,” you thought aloud. “The tub is worlds bigger than the one we have at home.” Your fingers had begun to gently scratch at the nape of his neck.

He hummed. “That already sounds like a dream.” Then he leaned in to kiss you. It was short and as tender as the music in the air.

The event eventually did wind to its end. A Smithsonian spokesperson went to the main podium and made closing remarks about the importance of living in a way worthy of being remembered. It earned her a hearty round of applause and a few high-pitched whistles. Minutes later, attendees were filing out of the hall in a steady flow, some turning around to capture a final picture of the grandeur space. You and Bucky left right along with them, arms locked.

Nobody else was in the hallway when the two of you exited the elevator onto your floor. It was a long, empty stretch lined with warm lights. Taking advantage of that, you paced a few steps ahead of him and did a twirl as you walked—in a sleek pair of block heels, no less. The bottom of your dress caught the air in a graceful flow. When you looked back at him over your shoulder, he was shaking his head but his eyes were filled with adoration.

The first thing you did upon entering the suiet was go sit on the bed to take your shoes off. But Bucky spoke up, “Let me help you, pretty girl.” So one at a time, you raised your legs for him and watched the careful way he unbuckled your heels.

You smiled when he finished. “Thanks.”

“Mhm.”

That’s when you noticed the faint hint of pigment that your lipstick had left behind on him. “Hey, lean in for a second, Buck.” He obliged without question. You were still sitting on the edge of the bed. “There’s some…” You ran your thumb over his lower lip a few times.

“Lipstick?” He finished.

“Yeah—I got most of it off,” you said.

“It's a nice shade on you, by the way,” he said. "Very classy."

“Isn't it? I bought it a few days ago.” You dug into your purse in search of the tube, but it was gone. “Uh-oh.”

Bucky had begun to take off his suit jacket. “What?”

“I think I set it on the table just before we left the banquet... When I was looking for the card to our room.” A huff of air passed through your lips. “It’s probably been thrown away by now.”

He was quiet for a beat. “Not necessarily,” he said as he walked to hang up the jacket. “I can run back down and see.”

“Do you mind?”

“It’s no trouble,” he assured. “I’ll be right back. And then we can get to that bath you proposed earlier.” The wink he shot you on the way out made you bite back a smile.

I'll be right back, you replayed his words. But it came to the point when he'd been gone longer than what seemed necessary. That prompted you to peek your head out the door. All you were met with was the same long hallway, but with three strangers strolling down it. More time passed, and you found yourself on the bed again, preparing to call him.

A gentle knock on the door broke the stillness.

Bucky stood on the other side, a slender cut running across his left cheek a short ways beneath his eye. It wasn’t too bad, but blood had been drawn nonetheless. Before you could make an exclamation capable of disturbing the other guests, he slipped past you to get into the suite. It wasn’t until the door was closed that you attempted to vocalize the mix of concern and confusion swirling within your mind.

“Bucky!” Your eyes followed him.

“M'fine, doll,” he insisted.

“What in the world happened?” His slight frustration was evident in the way he resumed undressing as if nothing had occurred. “Hold on, baby, wait. Seriously.”

Bucky froze and looked directly into your eyes. You decided to use an even softer tone. “Just… Please let me take care of you, you’re bleeding.” You hoped your gaze was conveying your sincerity. On your way to move closer to him, you grabbed a couple tissues and folded them. A soft exhale left him when you pressed them to the cut, gently applying pressure to stop the bleeding. Neither of you spoke for a while.

Finally, he said, “Two guys brought an outside scuffle into the lobby. Nobody else was stepping in to break it up so I did.”

You lowered the tissues from his face. Due to the accelerated healing rate of his body and the size of the wound, the bleeding had already begun to subside. “And you got cut in the process?”

He nodded. “One of them had something sharp. Didn't really catch what it was,” he recounted. “And I didn’t wanna hurt them, so I couldn’t just flat-out tear them apart from each other.” His voice was low as he continued to speak. “But I was able to get 'em to stop. Some security guards showed up after the fact.”

You shook your head, briefly stepping away to dispose of the tissues. “I wonder why they were fighting in the first place.”

Bucky moved to sit on the bed, shrugging. “I don’t know, but it turns out they know each other pretty well. Apparently they’d just come back from a bar.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t get paid enough for this.”

With a small smile on your face, you went to go stand between his legs, looking down at his handsome features. The red cut stood out. "I'm glad it wasn't worse. Are you gonna need Band-Aid or something?"

He chuckled. "I'll live—check this out, though." he dug into his pants pocket and pulled out your lipstick. "Mission accomplished."

"My hero," you teased as you took it from him. There was a comfortable silence for a few beats. "What a night, huh?"

Bucky ran his hands over your hips. "I say we seal it with a good soak and only remember the good parts."

A laugh bubbled up out of you. "Deal," you agreed, starting to undo the buttons of his shirt.

-

Thanks for reading! Masterlist

[alltooreid]

I Think He Knows

Y/N has a huge crush on Spencer Reid, so huge she embarrasses herself every time she tries to talk to him. She is convinced he is aware to all her pathetic attempts at flirting and just chooses to ignore it, but turns out Spencer may be a little more clueless than she thought.

A/N: Hope yall enjoy this cute fluffy fic! I’ve been having a rough couple of days so writing a fun fluff like this was really comforting :) yes it is inspired by the t swift song, but you don’t need to know the song to read and enjoy! also my requests are open so let me know what you want to see! (also sorry if this is kind of short, but i’ve been super busy and wanted to put something out :)))

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Type: a cute pining fluff fic

Word Count: 2.3K

Content Warnings: mentions of alcohol, otherwise none.

“He got that boyish look that I like in a man I am an architect, I'm drawing up the plans It's like I'm seventeen, nobody understands No one understands”

“He has to know Penelope, I’m not exactly subtle.”

You and Penelope spent the majority of your lunch breaks in her office, discussing anything and everything. Recently however, the point of contention had been a certain young genius. One who you had a huge crush on.

“Spencer Reid may be a genius, and one of the best profilers I have ever seen but he most certainly does not know,” she said, as she drizzled more dressing on her salad.

“He has to, it feels like everyone knows. . . Do you think everyone knows?”

She shrugged, “They might, I know my Chocolate Thunder hasn’t picked up on it yet.”

“You haven’t told him? It’s already been a week since I’ve told you! How did you keep it a secret for so long?”

“You asked me very nicely not to tell anyone! Plus this one seems really important to you. I don’t want to go around telling people and for Reid to hear it in office gossip.”

You smiled, “Well you Penelope Garcia are the best, best friend ever.”

“You know it, now I know you desperately want to repay me for my services, and you can by giving me those exact ranch packets you have in your bag,” she said.

“They’re all yours, now let’s discuss something other than my pathetic schoolgirl crush. Like how stupid Kevin’s sweater was today.”

“Kevin? The other internal affairs technical analyst? Yeah what the heck was he wearing?”

“You know, I’m tired of having to carry the weight of the brains, looks and fashion sense out of the two of us,” you said. “Though, that is a good way to gather attention . . . I wonder if Spencer would actually hold a conversation with me if I wore something as ugly as that.”

She laughed, “You know I think that might send you backwards.”

You stabbed your lettuce, “At this point I’ll try anything.”

Before Penelope could respond, someone interrupted your lunch, your only other friend on the BAU team, Emily Prentiss.

“Oh hi Y/N! How are you!”

“I’m good Emily, what kind of gross things are you here to deliver today?” you and Emily joined the FBI at around the same time, and found comfort in the fact that you were both total try-hards. Emily was going to eat lunch with you and your fast friend Penelope, at least on days when she was in the office for lunch, but you and her both agreed that she should eat lunch with the team so that they can get used to having her around.

“Just some paperwork, no cases yet, knock on wood. Also I just wanted to say hello! What are you guys eating?” she asked, pulling up a chair.

“Some salads from that takeout veggie place PG is always talking about. I told you I was going vegetarian right?” “You did not! That’s great Y/N! We need to talk more, like we used to when we first started here,” she sighed, then perked up, “We should have girls night! Remember how fun it was that night at the bar? With Brad the real FBI agent?”

“Yes! We should! You know, Gideon’s replacement comes tomorrow, we should celebrate!” Garcia said.

“You know, I don’t know if the best way to celebrate a new agent is by drinking without them, but I’m down. We’ll toast our girls night to agent Rossi. Someone ask JJ if she’s busy.”

JJ was not busy, but when you and Emily asked, Morgan overheard.

“So am I not invited to the party?”

“Well it was supposed to be girls night . . . but I think PG would throw a fit if I turned down her 2nd favorite person in this building, so I guess you can come,” you teased. “You should come too Spencer!”

“I don’t know, that’s not really my thing . . “

“Oh come on! I know I would love to see you there,” you then realized that you were embarrassing yourself being so forward. “And I’m sure everyone else would too!”

“Alright, I’ll come, but I’m not drinking.” he said firmly. 

Before you could respond, Penelope magically appeared. “Good, you can be completely sober when Y/N gets wasted and embarrasses herself,” she said.

“PENELOPE! I’m not the light weight here! you’ll see Spencer, she’s actually awful. Two shots in and she’ll be on the floor,” this was apparently the wrong thing to say, because Spencer grimaced. “But it’ll be so much fun! You have to be there! You already said yes!”

“I just don’t know if seeing all of my coworkers get drunk while I watch is my idea of a fun evening. . .”

“Trust me! I’ll even stay sober with you, so we can judge them together. It’ll be a blast.”

“Ok, I’ll be there . . . but for now I need more coffee,” he pulled his chair out and walked towards the office kitchen. You silently cheered, forgetting how people were still standing around you.

“Well,” you awkwardly laughed, “um, I guess I better be getting back to my neck of the woods. I’m not a hot shot profiler like the rest of you guys . . . so see you all later!” You tried to escape before anyone interrogated you about your conversation with Spencer. However, a certain profiler followed quickly behind you. 

“So. . . you and pretty boy huh?”

“Shut it Morgan.”

{⋅. ♪ .⋅}

You stayed true to your word that night, Spencer stuck to water and you enjoyed a diet soda. The bartender, who you had grown fairly used to seeing on your many nights out, was shocked to hear you didn’t want any alcohol in it. 

It’s probably a good thing that you didn’t drink, you already embarrassed yourself enough in front of Spencer fully sober.

“So Spencer, you know that new bookstore you said you were going to go to after work a couple weeks ago?”

“New bookstore . . .? Oh yeah! What about it?”

“Well after I heard you talking about it I decided to check it out . . . It’s really nice there! I go like every other night now! We should totally go together sometime.” Luckily, you were sober enough to keep a secret: the fact you were only going so much in the hopes of running into him.

“Oh really? If I’m being honest I wasn’t super impressed with their selection, it was mostly contemporary fiction. And all in English . . . Not really my thing,” when he saw the way your face dropped he quickly changed his tone, “but it’s great if that’s your thing!”

This. Is. Humiliating. The amount of times you had gone and bought books from the bookstore, you were there almost every night hoping to run into him after work and start a conversation. You felt stupid, of course he wouldn’t want to go on a book store date with you. If Spencer Reid didn’t like you so much that he wouldn’t even go to a bookstore with you, there’s no chance at a relationship.

“Oh haha, yeah you’re right it’s totally lame. . .”

“Didn’t you just say you went there all the time?”

“No! When did I say that? You must be drinking Dr. Reid,” you said, quickly hopping off your bar stool, and running towards Morgan and Garcia, not turning around to see how confused Spencer was, but only being able to imagine him as relieved. Relieved he didn’t have to make conversation with you anymore.

“I’m blowing this PG, he totally hates me.”

Morgan laughed, “Y/N, you’re acting silly, this isn’t high school, we aren’t seventeen, stop dancing around it and just go ask him out.”

“Morgan, he doesn’t want to go to a bookstore with me, no way he’s agreeing to a date.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, calm down, maybe he’s just not in the mood to go?”

“You go ask him then, 20 bucks he says yes.”

“You’re on Y/N/N.”

7 minutes later Morgan returned and without a word pulled a twenty dollar bill out of his wallet and deposited it into your hand. “Sorry, Y/N.”

Penelope then piped up, “I’m telling you Y/N, he just doesn’t know. That boy is clueless.”

You scoffed, “I think he knows Penelope. I’ve made it pretty clear.”

“Have you told him?”

You were thrown off, “Um, no but-”

“Well then you haven’t made it clear enough, have you sugar?”

You almost said something, but you couldn’t really think of a good rebuttal for the argument. So instead, you downed Penelope’s half dranken frozen margarita, and headed back over to Spencer.

“Hey!” he said as you made your way back over, “I was wondering where you went, after you left Derek came over and asked to go to that bookstore with me, isn’t that extraordinary. . .”

“Do you wanna go on a date with me?” you blurted out.

“What?”

You sighed, “I’ve had a crush on you since like, forever, and I keep planning all these ways to ask you subtly but it’s just not working so I’m asking now. Do you want to go on a date with me?”

“You like me? I didn’t know that . . .”

“You’re joking.”

“No, I’m not, I thought you were just being nice. You’re nice to everyone and I didn’t want to get my hopes up.”

You smirked, “Get your hopes up? Does that mean you’re obsessed with me too Dr. Reid?”

He laughed in response, “Yeah, you could definitely say that.”

You dug through your purse and pulled out your keys, “Ok, then let’s get out of here.”

He paled, “And do what?”

“We’re going on our first date.”

He smiled, and you both got up off your bar stools and headed out the door, ignoring Morgan’s snide remarks as you passed. 

{⋅. ♪ .⋅}

You couldn’t help but smile as you drove. Every couple of seconds you couldn’t help but look over at Spencer, getting lost in his brownish hazel eyes, which looked indigo in the night. He would smile, the kind of smile people write silly little romance songs about and spend verses to describe, and tell you to pay attention to the road before you run off of it. You would laugh, tell him to calm down. Although originally you had an idea of where you were going, now you just wanted to drive in circles, to bask in this memory. 

“So where are we going?” he asked.

“Think about it Doctor Reid . . .” you replied, teasing him in the way you’ve imagined since you met him. 

You pulled up to that little bookstore on 16th avenue, the one you couldn’t stop going to out of the sheer chance Spencer might be there, the one that was obviously closed this late at night, but was too perfect not to spend your first date at. 

“Although this is beautifully symbolic, it’s almost 2 in the morning, this place closes at 8. We’re 5 hours, 49 minutes and 17 seconds late.”

You smiled and pulled out your ring of keys, “You know, when I spent hours a night hanging around here after work, hoping that you would happen to come shop for books and see me here too, the woman who owns this store got pretty curious. So I told her why I was here, and after she got done laughing at me she offered me a key, so that if I ever had the guts to ask you out, I could take you here no matter what.” You turned the key and swung the door open, gesturing him inside and locking the door behind you, “but we have to keep the lights off, so no one comes by and tries to get in.”

You and Spencer sit in the non-fiction section, and enjoy the silence for a few seconds before you have an idea, “Read me something Reid.”

He reached up, pulling a book off of the shelf without looking, “Are you sure, A Brief History of 1491: Life in America Before Columbus, is first date material?”

“Although that book is anything but brief, anything you read to me will sound stunning coming from your pretty mouth.”

So he begins to read, attempting to slow down to a reasonable pace but still going abnormally fast. You didn’t care though, more than you listened to the history of the late fifteenth century you watched Spencer’s hands. They’re really nice hands.

His right followed the words as he read aloud and his left helped hold the book. He wiggled the fingers on his left hand unconsciously as he spoke, getting into the words of the book. 

After about 25 pages he glanced over at you, and you could almost hear the gears turning in his head. After a second he went back to the page, and continued reading. You didn’t think anything of it until a couple minutes later, when his hand made its way to your left thigh.

He held it and you leaned into him, and you both stayed like that until you fell asleep hours later, with his head resting on top of yours. 

At 8:30 Mrs. Betts, the owner of the bookstore, found you and Spencer, arms around each other, the book thrown aside. She smiled, glad to know you had taken her up on her offer. She went to go wake you up but glanced at her watch. She didn’t have to officially open until 10. 

She could definitely spare a couple of minutes. 

“I want you, bless my soul I ain't gotta tell him I think he knows”

- Thank you for reading! Please reblog and let me know what you think :))

ATR’s tiny taglist: @reidingmelodies​

[mochikeiji]

Troublesome Baby

↠ Pairing: Akaashi Keiji x Reader

↠ Warning: SMUT! Slight size kink, nipple play, overstimulation, hint of breeding, Akaashi wanting to make his baby know how pretty she is and how wrong people are about her.

↬ Word Count: 4.5k

Summary: Pissing a delinquent is never a persons choice. And what pisses off Akaashi most was when people picked on you instead of him.

⇢ Day 2: Delinquent

A person's feelings can be confusing. One minute they're saying they like a good guy who knows how to keep track in time and hs his future planned out and the second they're liking someone whom their parent's had warned them about.

If you like someone who was always up to no good, are you a masochist? They would ask. Are you out of your mind? They would scold. Do you have any idea how this'll affect your life? They would judge.

You'd like to think otherwise of people who wore tattoos, have so many scars, are always picking fights or having that gangsta stance and aura. You prefer to see them as still a human being with a cold outer shell in order to protect themselves from the cruel world, shielding their gentleness deep within.

It was cliche; a bad person getting soft for one person. But that's how it is even in reality. Sometimes, we can only be vulnerable to the ones we trust the most. And the ones we trust the most are the loved ones.

And those who we love, never deserve how they spit at the world.

That's how Akaashi was with you.

Everyone was shock by the time the former first year had a drastic demeanor change. He was timid, reserved back at his first year in highschool. Polite, and what you'd expect to have an astounding school performance. Hey never would've thought that joining the volleyball club would change someone so idly.

They always thought they were a team filled with passionate players who loved to play fair, but it turns out they loved to get rough around games and outside matches.

Roughness was never Akaashi's agenda. But with a stoic facade and built, athletic feature, he fits in perfectly to look like someone you should stay away from. Still, he kept on being the reserved person he was by hiding his wounds underneath his uniform or volleyball jacket. He doesn't admit it outloud, but he was insecure about his beating wounds.

The times where he and the team would go on random beatings after losing a bet or if someone dares to mess with anyone close to them happened often. Now that word was spread that you, sweet little you, happened to be the pretty faced setters girlfriend is targeted by many disgusting comments.

No man would want to tolerate that or will tolerate their beloved pummeled onto the ground. From all the members of the team he was voted to be the most terrifying one, he doesn't stand down from a fight especially for his baby, he wouldn't stop until the person who made a worthless comment about you, the person who would make you look down at yourself, the person who would make you cry is at their mercy.

His delinquent phase soon carried on until he reached his 20s. Even though now he was an editor and his teammates had their own domestic lives and jobs ahead, they kept up with their ways to earn a bit of cash during the night. Minus Bokuto on some occasions due to his volleyball tournaments world wide, it was mostly just him and the former third years. Even the two females had managed to know their ways into the dangers in joining as long as it helped them raise the cash up a bit.

And that leads the scenario now, you cleaning up his wounds again at the peak of 1 am in the morning after a misunderstanding beat down the past hour. He came home more bruised and bloodied than before— that meant they were outnumbered. Usually, it's Bokuto who would bark at the people who would mess with them. He was known to be feared due to his popularity, but inside the group, it's really just Akaashi who was the monster amongst all of them when he was angry.

You didn't know how long you were going to tolerate this. Him always coming back to you with new scars drawing his skin and you patching him up. It was always like this since highschool, but as you grew, people get tougher, bolder. This was too much.

"Keiji, please stop doing this."

Dabbing the cotton on the alcohol a little and tapping his skin gently to avoid stinging him, you were sat on your study chair whilst he was sitting on your shared bed. You were already trying to hold in the dam from breaking as you had been cleaning all his wounds for the past minute, but as you do, they only seem to get bigger and painful for you to bear.

"I don't want you to keep getting hurt."

Finally putting ointments on his arm, he uses his free hand to cup the side of your face, and raises you too look into his eyes. Ones that weren't feral as they were a couple of hours ago.

"They were bad mouthing about you, I wasn't letting that slip."

"But it's fine! People bad mouth about me a lot even before.."

Inside it still stung. To be growing up mocked by society in any way they see flaw in you. You were always an insecure woman up until now, any little words from others can make you into a brawling mess. What more if some threatened you, you'd be a fleeting coward.

Akaashi knew that about you when you began dating. At first he didn't pay mind into it, but the more he got to know what a kind and loving person you were, he realized just how cruel people can be to those with soft hearts. He hated those to the bone, he would never tolerate that kind of person throwing a pile of crap to someone above them.

"I just don't want to keep thinking one day you won't be coming by the door because of this..I'd rather you just stop being like this after years than to get more bruises. I don't care about the money, Keiji, I earn a lot too."

Your trembling figure was obvious, he knew how emotional you get for whenever he gets reckless, and how you over think of the things the people he has placed back in their place said about you. He never liked the fact you tried to be strong for him so many times and not even reaching out for comfort from him.

"Baby."

He cooes softly, moving away the medical kit from your side and hoisting you up from your chair with ease, allowing you to straddle his lap. You were easy for him to carry considering the height difference, thus making him more protective of you seeing as you look like a small child in fear.

Protesting softly at him to put you down since he was just freshly fixed up, Akaashi let's your head fall on his naked shoulder blade with his hand behind your head, giving your hair a slow stroke down to your back.

That's where you started to cry on his skin.

"I don't care about the money that much, I just hate it when someone threatens or mocks you without even having to know you."

He hears you sniffle at his skin, your tears wetting a small patch on it along with your face. He hushes you for a second before patting your bum, indicating he wants to see your face. With head lowered, you pulled away from his shoulder, sniffling down the tears while roughly using your wrist to wipe your eyes.

He grabs one of your wrist as his soften eyes met your red ones. He lowers your hand down to your lap, with your other one following as he was the one to wipe your tears away.

"It hurts me to have them say such things and have you crying like this. You have no idea how far you are from what they say."

The both of you took a small pause, letting him squish your cheeks with his thumbs rubbing underneath your eyes as small, left over tears escaped. Your hands below pressing against his bandaged abdomen, wondering how much trouble he's gone through just for you with a new batch of tears ready to fall.

"You don't cause me trouble, baby. I did this because you didn't deserve it. It was my decision, not yours or anyones. You will never be the reason for my troubles."

He was an observant guy, any little sign of of your body he knows what's going on. He slides your hands up from his abdomen, to his chest and placing them on his shoulders for you to hold onto. Tilting his head a bit to get an angle of your view, he gives you an adoring smile at the sight of your lips slightly pouting out and your eyes wide and glossy.

"You look cute right now."

Blinking away the blurred vision, your heart thumps a little from the way he was looking at you and his small compliment. You loved it when he gave you a lot of assurance and reminders about yourself. Even in times where they seemed unnecessary.

His finger tracing your cheeks to your nose, tapping at the tip making you shut your eyes and crinkle a little. When he groaned at the shift of your hips now snugging against his growing bulge, he quickly places his hands on your hips to hold you in place.

Your eyes popped out, stammering apologies saying you didn't mean to do it on purpose while gripping his shoulders. You hear him sigh out, worried you might've hurt him but soon vanished when you felt his hands sliding down once again to your bum.

"Why don't I show you how pretty you really are?"

He moves from his position. By instinct, you wrapped your legs around his waist as he lays you down on bed and pushes himself up.

"W-wait, your wounds."

"I'm fine, baby, don't worry."

His hands found their way down to your pajama shorts and pulls them down with ease. He let's his shirt that you were wearing on as it only fueled his arousal at the sight of you looking smaller compared to him.

Thighs shaking and biting back a moan when his index finger slid down on your clothed slit, he repeats his actions upwards and downwards until you shortly got the middle part of your panties wet.

"Just enjoy and relax for me." 

You clutched the pillow underneath your head when his finger started to press in your clothed slit, his warmth radiating strongly against your sensitive regions, it made you grind shyly on the finger teasingly trying to intrude your entrance. 

He bites lip at the delicious sight and pulls his fingers away, spreading your legs apart so that he could settle himself on his stomach and his face near your lower lips. Sliding your panties down almost too quickly, he pushes your inner thighs to spread for him, giving him a better view of what his teasings done to your body and blowing cool air on your twitching hole, drooling with more arousal.

He hears a small whimper from you and looks up, you covering your mouth with the back of your hand, and your other fisting the sheets. Giving your inner thighs a kiss to calm you down, he winks at you before repeatinf his early ministrations on your now bare pussy.

"You're so easily aroused."

It came out like a breathy whisper from his lips as he watches his finger slide up and down. The thought of you tight and clenching to nothing makes him want to plunge in immediately.

He hums pleasingly at the sight and slowly inserts his index finger in. You moan out loudly in surprise, hiding your face to side and not wanting to look down thinking you might just cum from the sight. He began pulling his finger out and then pushing it back in, he wiggles a little inside of your hole loving how warm and wet it was, until he inserted a nother finger in to stretch you.

"Keiji!!"

He thrusts both fingers in with a decent pace, not wanting to go fast knowing how sensitive and easily you'll cum. His mouth was watering at the sight of his fingers being swallowed in your small pussy, and leans his face down with his other hand spreading your lips and giving it a small kiss that made your hips jolt up as he began to attack your clit.

"K-keiji! Too good!"

His free hand holds one of your thighs way to keep you spread amd at his mercy. The two fingers inside of you thrusting erratically when you tightened around them, now hearing the sloshing noises and his mouth sucking you to death.

He watches your head move from side to side and your chest heaving from his treatment. He can feel his own cock painfully erect inside his pants and moves bit, moaning against your clit at his boxers friction, and your hands finding their way to his hair and begging him not to stop.

"Keiji! Please, please, don't stop! Please, I'm close!"

His fingers beckoning inside of you knowing what he was now pressing at and flattens his tongue on your pussy before smirking up and saying,

"Go on, pretty girl, cum for me."

Hearing his voice was like a knock out for you as your hips arched up and the grip on his hair tightened. The pads of his fingers pressing and teasing your sweet spot until you were cumming hard for his mouth to take in.

He pumps a few more thrust until your orgasm faded. You whimpered from the additional thrust and grabbed his wrist to stop.

"Too much, Keiji.."

Hungry eyes raking your sweating body and wet folds, his pants getting unbearable at the moment and zips it down immediately along with his boxers, letting his cock free and breathes in the cool air as it hits his cock that made it twitch in need.

How much he wanted to keep eating you out despite being sensitive, but the need to be inside of you caves in as he hovers above your quivering body and attatching his lips with yours. He slips in his tongue to deepen the kiss, grinding his cock against your wet slit as you moaned inside his mouth from the much needed friction and something inside your needy cunt.

But Akaashi wanted to savor the moment, he knows you were a virgin. He's only fingered and eaten you out during the years of relationship. Even though the thought of having his cock a taste of your cunt drives him insane, he wanted to make sure every part of your body was touched, kissed and adored like he promised.

"Mmh!"

Fingers now tweaking your right nipples as your legs tried to close themselves from now having to be stimulated from your torso, to his hard cock still grinding tantalizing. But his body was in between them, and his mouth was practically eating your whines and mewls for him. Seeing how sensitive you were getting over the little touches he was giving made him moan against your lips. His hand moves to tweak your other untouched nipple and pulled a little, your back arching as he releases his mouth from yours letting you moan loud.

Your back still arched giving him a quick access to suck on your erected nipple, biting softly yet playfully in synch with his pinching on the other nub.

"KEIJI! HAH— PLEASE!"

Trying to move away from his mouth and fingers by pushing his head gently, he uses other hand to pin both of your smaller ones above your head and releases your nipple with a pop, shivering from the air.

He stops playing with the other one and moves there to suck on it. His finger moving to the soaked one and pulling it softly. You trashed on his hold as he continued to assault your breast. Not seeing the way his eyes are now getting half lidded at the sight of your teary ones from the amount of pleasure and the sound of your pleading singing in his ears.

"AH! Keiji!! Please— no more!"

But he knows how much you didn't want this to stop. If you really did want to stop, you would've used your safe word. But just smiles at you fondly, letting his finger move from breast to breast and pulling and pinching quickly.

"Mm, I just love," he pulls a little harder on your left nub, but not to painfully for you, "How your body reacts to me." you hear his chuckled laugh when he stops to massage your breast alternatively, leaving you whimpering from how skillful his hands were.

"You're getting cuter and prettier as time goes by."

Shamefully, your walls clenched from his words. He knows judging by how you bit your lip and shutting your eyes and grins at you. He knows how much you loved getting praised and told all the lewd things he wants to do to you.

"You'll be prettier with my cock stuffing inside you, won't you, baby? 

Hands trying to pry his stronger ones away so that you can hold him, hide on his skin and let him ravage you. He does however, using both his hands, he separated your arms and pins them at the side of your head and proceeds to attack your neck.

"Baby."

He cooes at the side of your skin, cock now lubed from his pre cum and yours with the tip just poking on your lower lips impatiently.

"Please..inside, Keiji, please."

Yours legs widened themselves, preparing for what you've both been wanting that evening. He laces his hands on yours, the position you now had more vulnerable for him and he wanted nothing more than to take you and make you feel protected and pleased.

"Tell me if it hurts, okay?"

Lips pressing on your forehead as you relaxed on the sweet sensation, but as seconds went by, your body tensed when he entered the head of his cock in, inching slowly his hard length.

Akaashi's hands gripped yours harder when he feels your cunt fluttering and hugging his member tighter than he expected. His breating becoming ragged so he started leaving trail marks of love bites on your neck to calm the both of you down from the foreign feeling.

Each mark he gave came with a soft praise, telling you how good you were doing taking his cock perfectly and how beautiful you were breathless underneath him. He told you, you were doing a good job holding in and with that you let out a shaky breath before telling him he can move.

Thrusting out slowly, letting your juice slide freely on his cock before thrusting back in with force, enough for you to choke a moan. His hips taking their pace into what he knows is bearable for a first timer like you, but the way he was clenching his jaw tight indicates how much he wants to have his way and fuck you like he was on a rut. You were so tight and small compared to his impressive length that it was getting painful for him to be in a vice like grip down there.

It was a struggle to take him, but at the back of your head as you feel his cock move in and out of you felt so right, you wondered if it could be more pleasurable as it is. His face was alarming to you so you rubbed your thumb on his hand letting him pause and exhale harshly. He didn't know he was holding back so much to the point he forgot how to breathe.

"Are you okay?"

He panted above you as you stared in daze and in euphoria from being stuffed. Trying to stay grounded, you attempted to grind your hips to rile him up, only for him to growl and thrust in, forcing your hips down with a squeal from your lips.

"Don't do that."

"But you're struggling."

He breathes through his nose, he hates to admit it but he had to hold himself together not to take you like a freak in bed. He reminds himself that tonight was about you and only you. How wrong the words were of the people he's beaten for you.

"It's fine, I don't want to hurt you."

Nuzzling his nose on your cheek, he hums happily on your skin when you press your cheek in reply. As your eyes stared at each other, you knew how gentle your Keiji was with you. You knew he would never hurt you even if he could. He wasn't going to.

"Please Keiji."

Moaning wantonly when your shifted your hips in a good angle for his cock to thrust on, you looked at him with pleading eyes and drooling mouth.

"Please go harder."

Groaning on your skin, he thrusts in suddenly, lettinf your back arch once more as he placed his chin on your chest and licks his lips in hunger.

"You asked for it, baby girl."

The thrusts he was making was now audible inside your room; his balls slapping below your bum, your cunts lewd juices being messed up on both your bodies and your moans slowly becoming screams.

"KEIJI!!"

His mouth found their way back on your nipple, biting roughly and licking away the pain followed by a good sucking. Hips never faltering or holding back anymore and engulfs your shaking body.

"Fuckers were so wrong about you, love. Look at you,"

Your mouth was drooling from the side, hair messed up in display on the pillow that made  them look soft and angelic on you, eyes, your hands holding onto him tight with your body jiggling up everytime he thrusts in.

"You look absolutely ravaging."

He lets go of your other hand and places his on the back of your leg, hoisting it up and placing it on his shoulder, letting his cock piston deeper into you and making a mess out of you.

"I can't even move a lot from how small and tight your cunt is."

He laughs breathlessly as he aims to find your sweet spot again. You were trying to pull away from his hold but with your thigh up on his shoudler, you were stuck taking this all in like a good girl.

"I think I may be too lucky to have you in my life."

The tip of his cock was now kissing that spot that made you scream out in the blue, Akaashi cursed when your cunt clenched his raging member as he kept aiming at your precious spot.

"Fuck, do you like that, baby?"

"AHN— YES! PLEASE, PLEASE, I WANT TO CUM!"

Sobbing for the much needed orgasm, your body gives up and lets the male above you use it to please you both.

"Fuck, my hips can't stop."

He buries himself at the crook of your neck, moaning near your ear, edging you close to your release to the sound of him. He lets out small whimpers and groans, his cock twitching violently inside you with his thrusts losing their rhythm.

"Baby girl."

"KEIJI, SLOW DOWN! AHH— I'M GOING TO CUM!"

The heat in your stomach felt different from your previous orgasms. This felt hotter, tighter, and a whole lot messier. But Akaashi showed no mercy and carried on,

"Cum for me, baby."

The freed hand he had a minute ago now being a teasing bastard and rubbed your swollen clit. Pinching and rolling all four of his fingers on, making you scream and thrash. Panting with the thought of dying frkm the immense sex he was giving until the last line made you scream without a sound,

"I'm going to cum inside."

Your eyes rolled sinfully at the last line, your bodh ascending above not hearing Akaashi gasp from the way you came and groan as both his cock and abdomen get soaked from your cum and your stomach filled with his thick load and kept thrusting in a slower pace. Your cunt spasming on his member, milking him dry until you were taking all of his load in.

Exhausted, his body stills and lays a bit above you, not wanting to squish you with his member remaining inside you. Sniffles can be heard coming from you as you calmed down from your high, Akaashi stroking your hand that was still clamped on his and peppered you with small kisses and sweet confessions.

"You did so good."

"That's my baby."

"Always so beautiful even like this."

You other arm came and wrapped themselves on his neck, pulling close to you as you inhaled his masculine scent, anchoring you down back to earth before coming to realization on how damp your bottom was.

"I—"

"Squirted?"

Blushing, you buried your head on his neck followed by a laugh from your boyfriend, listening to you blabber multiple apologies.

"I'm sorry!"

"It's okay, I liked it," He captured your lips with kiss, kissing you lovingly and a little longer before pulling away only to give you small pecks repeatedly, "It was sexy."

"You sound so different when you use that word, Keiji.."

"But it's true."

He didn't bother pulling out after you pleaded him not to. Even if it was your first time, it was addicting to have something fill you up to the brim. It made you feel snug and full, and it felt right. Akaashi wasn't complaining on the cock warming, in fact he held you closer to his chest and twirled your hair nonetheless.

"You're really not what they describe you, love," he admires how the dim light from your room manages to create a good lighting that made your skin glow. The hairs that sticked to you forehead after the intimacy you both caught up made you look like a soft baby with eyes looking at him full of love,

"I can't even describe you anymore."

Your eyes trailed down to his wounded torso from his face. Even though he was tainted, Akaashi was sculptured beautifully like no other. But inside you prayed that he wouldn't go home another day with freshly opened wounds just to defend you as you traced your fingertips on each bruise and scar.

He spots on and grabs one of your hands and pulls it in for a kiss on the knuckles, "I promise, I won't make you worry anymore."

Smiling, you snuggled on his chest pleased and full of bliss, feeling his lips kissing the top of your head repeatedly and his arms hugging you closer to his body.

"Keiji?"

"Hm?"

Pressing your cheek on his chest, you looked up to him and asked, with a small tint of blush on your face in embarrassment, "Um..W-why did you you know...In me?"

For a second he blushes as well, but in the end he seemed to be smiling excitedly as you missed the way his eyes glanced somewhere down your stomach.

"So I can have another pretty baby to love."

[plainlo-inthemorning]

A Loki TVA/Lokane fic. Rating T.

Previously: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4 (of 6)

Shine a Light, part 5

He is aware that the love of his life is digging her fingers into his arm and saying his name.

He is aware of Stark standing to his other side, visor off, speaking to someone on the phone. His voice is hard.

But most of all, Loki is aware that all their lives were just changed by a great big terrifying rip in the seam of reality.

Neither Jane nor the Avenger could possibly be completely sure of what they saw. Loki, as much as he desperately wants to, harbors little doubt.

The man he held in a death-grip only minutes ago and who just now disappeared through a doorway conjured out of thin air was somehow … himself.

Another him. Just as the man had said.

After witnessing from afar the double kiss Jane, Loki, who was coming back from a swim, had been more than ready to skip past introductions and just sever the intruder’s head from his body.

But as soon as he had laid hands on him, a torrent of images had flooded his mind – chaotic, confused images that seemed to span past, present, future and beyond.

The shock had made him lessen his grip and the double had used his (his!) magic to throw him off.

With some distance between them and Stark suddenly there as well, Loki had tried to let his rage quell the dizzying realization. Unsuccessfully.

He is still shaking, clutching a dagger in each hand. He drew them instinctively as the other made for the door.

He should have caught him!

“Loki! What did he say?!”

“What?” His thoughts are racing in too many directions to hear her.

“The … man, what was he saying to you?!”

Jane is looking up at him with those beautiful brown eyes, worry and urgency all over her delicate features. Though not fear, Loki notes. His ever-brave wife. Both her hands are now clamped around his wrist.

That thing kissed her.

The daggers disappear and Loki wraps both arms around the mother of his unborn child, almost crushing her to his chest while still staring at the spot where the double vanished.

“It’s okay. It’s okay, love”, he murmurs. He suspects things are very much not okay.

So does Jane, of course.

“Loki, was it … oof, not so tight … “

She wriggles against him, and he remembers his amor. And her condition. He immediately relaxes his arms a bit while letting the leather and metal melt back into the clothes he wore before: Black jeans and a fitted, dusty green t-shirt (his “rockstar outfit”, Jane had called it, when Loki first started switching up his human wardrobe some years ago now). Drops of saltwater still cling to the ends of his slightly curly raven locks.

“Tony! Jane, Loki! What on Earth was that?”

Pepper jumps out of the car parked in front of the house and runs towards them. She must have seen everything as she drove down the road following her flying husband.

“The verdict’s still out, Peps”. Tony nods at Loki. “You wanna chip in here? I just called the boy-scout at headquarters and told him to be on guard for one of the magician’s interns playing a prank”.

Loki shakes his head slowly.

“Unfortunately, I don’t think Stephen had anything to do with this”.

“You’re right, I didn’t”.

All four of them turn around to see the sorcerer step out of a swirling ring of light, his cape billowing around him. The mahogany floor and paneled walls of his Manhattan mansion are briefly visible behind him before the portal closes with a hiss of little sparks.

Strange is wearing an even sterner expression than usual which only adds to Loki’s growing sense of dread.

Tony, however, groans loudly.

“Dude, really? Couldn’t you at least have let us have dinner before party crashing? Not shaming your bachelor lifestyle or anything, but this was couples’ night!”

“Tony!” Pepper hits her husband on the arm.

Strange ignores him.

“I’m afraid the arrival of your surprise visitor indicates that a set of … unfortunate events have been set in motion”.

As always, his voice is as even as if he was reading the weather forecast, but by now Loki has learned to differentiate the (very) subtle nuances between scorn and sincerity. Strange places his hands behind his back and regards them coolly. “I’ve had Wong reach out to Doctor Banner and director Fury. They should be here shortly. Stark, you may want to-”.

Tony narrows his eyes, lip twitching.

“Hey, Bleeker Street, you know I have low tolerance for you showing up and barking orders without giving two f**** for context. How did you even know that something was going down here? By all means, don’t keep us in suspense until the cavalry gets here”.

Strange doesn’t answer, but the way his eyes dart to Jane sends needles through Loki’s heart.

“Let’s go sit down, shall we?” With one eyebrow raised, Strange puts on a suave smile and gestures towards the house. The effect is a little startling.

Jane ducks out from under Loki’s arms. “Jane, don’t you want to-“. She brushes him off.

“Yes, good idea, Stephen. Let’s go sit down”. She motions for Strange to follow. “Welcome to our home. I was actually making drinks before, but I think I need to add a bit more kick to them…”

Her voice is oddly calm, and Loki fights the urge to grab her and magic them both far, far away, not caring that she would be furious with him for making decisions on her behalf.

He’s brought back to the present by an even odder sound as Strange actually chuckles.

Loki is not sure he’s ever heard it before. Then again, it’s not that he really knows Strange when it comes down to it. Like Tony, Loki finds the wizard exceedingly arrogant.

Pepper is the first to follow Jane and Strange across the lawn while Loki and Tony hang back.

“Real ladies’ man when he wants to. Who would have thought”. The billionaire superhero scoffs. His suit has folded itself off and into a briefcase next to his feet.

“Tony-“

“Uh oh. First name basis. So this really is an emergency”.

Loki faces his friend. Often in the past years, as they’ve grown steadily closer outside of “work”, he has secretly marveled at how long they’ve come since someone threw someone else off a building after being called a diva.

And attacking a city with an alien army.

Jane always insisted the two “hotheads” (her word) had a lot in common when not trying to murder one another (be it with weapons or sarcastic commentary), and Loki has to admit she was right. The metal man is fiercely intelligent, and Loki has been enjoying the quick-witted snark between them infinitely more than he ever valued the company of Thor’s band of gullible warrior groupies on Asgard.

“Well?”. Tony is regarding him with eyebrows raised, expectant. “Give me your take on this cause I’m starting to put together some rather outlandish theories myself here that I’m kinda hoping you’ll thwart ASAP”.

Loki draws in a deep breath.

“That thing with Banner at the tower two years ago-“

“Fuck!” Tony exhales, exasperated. “I knew you were gonna say that”. He squints into the distance towards the ocean, his mouth a tight line. It’s a rare day that Tony Stark is caught under a clear blue sky without sunglasses but for once he doesn’t seem to notice.

Loki takes a step closer to him and lowers his voice so they won’t alert the others just yet.

“I told you then and you didn’t want to listen! Everything about Bruce’s story was off. I know he didn’t remember much after Steve took him down, but you all pretty much accused me of trying to get back at him for, well, you know what, and I kept telling you I thought someone had gotten to him! Now-“

Loki searches for the words. It’s beyond absurd.

“That man was a version of me, Tony. I have no idea how, but I felt it. I saw into his mind. It was filled with images from my past and then … other, recent memories. Dark ones. He came from nowhere. Literally. It didn’t feel like a place. I tried to discard it as a trick, you saw that, but…” Loki runs his hand through his moist hair. “Stephen obviously felt something tear open too. And that is not a good sign”.

He has Tony’s full attention.

“Tear open? Could this other you be associated with your old boss? With Thanos?”

Loki winces.

“No, I don’t think he’s involved”, he says sharply. “But I can’t be sure …”

Tony catches his tone pats his shoulder. “Okay, okay. Shake it off. Didn’t mean to suggest anything. Let’s say he’s not. I’d much prefer that, at least until the wizard presents us with an even uglier imminent threat to the universe. Which, judging by the fact that he’s even here, willingly sipping cocktails in your kitchen as we speak, he probably will”.

Tony throws his hands up with a dramatic air.

“And here I thought the most challenging part of this weekend would be to convince you two to come see Hamilton with us in the city next week!”

“Who’s-“

“Never mind. Did you get a look at that gadget your guy was holding? Boy, he looked like an office slave who’d slept under his desk for a month before getting fired, didn’t he? Were you ever into accounting yourself by any chance?”

Loki shuts his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. Immediately he sees the image of the double kissing Jane, his arms wrapped firmly around her supple body. Rage rushes right back through him and his eyes snap open.

“Stark - I can’t. But yes, I did notice the device. It looked like a phone”.

“Yeah, somehow I don’t think it was the new iPhone”.

Tony shakes his head.

“The two of us and we didn’t take him down. Fury’s gonna have our badges”.

//

The director of SHIELD and Bruce Banner arrive barely 15 minutes later through a portal in the middle of the meadow-like lawn, following Wong and both looking grim and out of place as they weave around patches of wildflowers to reach the porch.

“Gentlemen, I trust you’re well”. Loki greets the trio with an only vaguely sarcastic nod as he holds open the screen doors to them, like a good host. Despite what some may still think, he can behave.

He could have just used magic of course, but he figures Banner is freaked enough as it is just by being here. The scientist hasn’t spoken more than five words to him since 2014 and at least three of them were expletives.

Once inside the small living room, Bruce goes to stand by the window and busies himself polishing his glasses with a little too much vigor than seems warranted.

He avoids Loki’s eyes but looks up and smiles wearily as Jane comes over to say hello.

Fury leans against the doorframe to the hallway and crosses his arms, face a closed book, and, by the sound of it, Tony is going through the cabinets in the kitchen trying to find something to spice up Jane’s pre-dinner cocktails.

Pepper is talking to Strange and Wong on the blue IKEA couch (assembled by magic after the attempt to go at it “as a team” turned into a shouting match), and Loki is about to politely ask Strange to please spit it out right this minute, when Jane is next to him, taking his hand.

“We need to talk. Now”.

Her voice is low and steady but her eyes insisting. She squeezes his fingers.

He squeezes back. “Come”.

Loki looks to Fury but he’s focused on Strange who’s listening very closely to something Wong’s saying.

Not letting go of Jane’s hand, he turns towards the kitchen. In the doorway they pass Tony who’s now holding what appears to be a glass of scotch. He must have given up on the gin and tonics.

“Hey, where are you two going? Forget about playing hosts okay, let’s just get started with part two of the evening’s entertainment”.

“In a minute”.

Jane pushes past him, ignoring Tony’s look and dragging Loki with her.

She closes the door behind them.

“Okay, so…” Jane looks around nervously in the small kitchen with the rustic white fronts and old brass handles. She loves that kitchen. They haven’t changed a thing since moving in. Loki reaches for her, but she takes a step back. “Jane, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I should have gotten there faster. Did he …“

“I need you tell me exactly what he said to you”.

She is absentmindedly opening and closing her fists in the way she does when that brilliant astrophysicist mind of hers is working out an intricate problem in the lab.

Or, Loki knows, when she’s about to deliver him bad news.

He clears his throat. “He said he was me. And that something big was happening”. There. “And then he said he was sorry”.

Jane studies his face.

“That he was sorry? For what?”

“He didn’t say. He stepped through the door”.

Jane is quiet and now it’s Loki’s turn to try and read her expression.

“What did he say to you? I assume he pretended to be me …?”

Jane holds up a hand and bites her lip. Loki swallows.

“Loki, when we were staying at the flat in London, after we defeated Malekith…”

“What?” Loki furrows his brow in confusion. “Why are we-“

“The poison from the monster’s blade, it had you slipping in and out of consciousness for days. You were so feverish…”

“Yes, I know. I was there”. Loki’s blood is slowly turning very cold, but he musters a smile. “And you were amazing, love. Although some might say you took adv-“

Jane interrupts him in the middle of his blossoming smirk. A slight blush appears on her own cheeks.

“Yes, um, it’s not about that day”. She gives him a stern look. “The other day, later, when Thor left after you two went and had your, um, talk … there’s something I need to tell you …”

The door to the living room opens behind them.

“Actually, if you don’t mind, Doctor Foster, I would very much like to hear this too”.

Stephen Strange steps into the kitchen. The door closes behind him.

Part 6

[impala1967dwinchester]

Dean Winchester: New experiences

*not my gif*

Pairing: Dean X Reader/Y/n, Mention of Sam X Eileen 

Pov:  Deans 

Warning: fluff, cuteness, protective Dean, Domestic Life, Painting skills 

Summary:  With Y/n being pregnant Dean and her need a room for the new life that they are bringing into the world. That includes painting the walls, a task that Dean has given to himself  “Honey, where are you?” “Oh hey sweetness.” “No you can’t help!” “And no buts just sit in the rocking chair” “It’s amazing. I love you and the walls.” 

Word Count: 1,745 

MasterList 

Tag List: @akshi8278​

After finding out that Y/n was pregnant the preparation for the new arrival came in hast. Y/n was only a few months pregnant, but my need to protect her and the baby was more than instinct.

I had promised Y/n that she wasn’t going to have too much but keep growing our child. I’d do everything else, which included going out late to pick up Y/n cravings, not going hunting when Y/n needed me to be around, giving Y/n massages.

Y/n was everything to me. She had brightened up my world 5 years ago. She was another hunter, her family had all been killed over the years by the job. We met and I had a hard time at first expressing my emotions, and feelings to her. She was so easy to talk to. Sam teased me about having a soft spot for her, which in hand I teased him about his soft spot for Eileen.

When Y/n had told me that she was pregnant it was a slap in my face, reality that had slapped me in my face. Sam and I were sitting in the kitchen we’d had been talking about Eileen coming and staying in the bunker.

“Dean? What do you think about Eileen staying here with me?” Sam asked me. I looked up from my cup of morning coffee. “I don’t see why not. It would probably be good to have more than just the 3 sometimes 4 of us.” I said.

“Defiantly would make it less scary” I heard Y/n say as she walked into the kitchen. She came over kissing my forehead, I put my hand on top of hers on my shoulder.

“I need to tell you boys something important,” Y/n said sitting down next to me. “Did you find another hunt?” Sam asked eyebrows raised in anticipation. “Dumb ass let her talk!” I said. my hand going to rest on Y/n thigh. “Well, it’s more like a surprise. For both of you.” Y/n said. She was stalling, she’d say pretty much the same thing just a different way.

“Y/n, just say it. We can take it.” Sam said I kicked in his shin. “Well since you insist Samuel. Are you ready to be an uncle?” Y/n said and then looked over at me “Dean are you ready to be a dad?” It was quiet for a minute the both of us progressing what she had just said.

“Huh?” Sam said. “Bun in the oven?” I said. Y/n shook her head up and down. “So let me ask again. Are guys ready for a little kid hanging around the bunker?” Y/n said.

I sat up real quick. I hugged Y/n and whispered in her ear “I’m gonna be a dad.” I hugged her once more before looking over at Sam “Sammy, I'm going to be a dad...holy shit!” I said.

That was five months ago. Since then Eileen moved in bunking with Sam. Y/n baby bump only grows she was having a harder time fitting in her clothes. One day I had caught Y/n looking through my draws. A pair of panties on and she already had one of the lounge t-shirts I wore during the downtime. “Baby what are you doing?” I said leaning up against the door frame.

“I can’t fit into any of my pants. This is a lot more frustrating than I thought it was going to be.” Y/n said sitting down on the bed. A small whimper falling from her lips. “Baby... You can borrow my sweats.”  I said sitting down next to her.

She smiled up at me and rested her head against my shoulder. “I know that this is frustrating and hard for you, but think of the outcome baby,” I said. “I know I can’t say I completely understand your pain, frustration, or mood swings, but I do know that you and I will have a beautiful child that you helped grow,” I said placing my hand on her stomach.

She then placed her much slender, and smaller hand on top of mine. “Ya know I think he’s gonna love her daddy! I know I do.” Y/n said kissing my cheek. “You still think it’s gonna be a boy?” I asked. “I think it’s gonna be a girl, with your eyes, and a soft smile,” I said.

When we went to figure out the gender of our baby and at the last minute Y/n decided that it would be a surprise and we would find out on his or her birthday. I really didn’t have any say seeing as she was the one carrying our child.

When I was sitting with y/n I had an idea. “Honey, why don’t we go get you some maternity clothes, and then we can go get some paint for the baby's room?” I asked her. “Well, I can’t go anywhere without pants on!” Y/n said.

So I got up, walking over to my side of the bed. I throw over my shoulder my gray sweats. “Here baby. I’ll grab your flats, so all you have to do is grab your phone and not bother with shoes till we get to the car.” I said kissing her temple then leaving our room.

“Dean, I’m ready” I heard from the garage. We spent what seemed like hours in the shops, finally after finding what Y/n said was enough stuff. We left and went to the hardware store, and since we didn’t know the gender of the baby I had a feeling that this was going to take a few hours. “What color are you thinking about baby?” I asked Y/n as we both looking through the color cards.

“How about a light green?” She asked. “Green, okay. With an orange accent wall,” I said with a stupid accent. “Yeah, I heard that orange and green are actually really good for the beginning of your child's life!” She said.

“If our kid doesn’t like the color as they grow up then we can always go get the color they want and repaint the room. Big family experience.” I said in response.  

After a long day out, it had tired Y/n out. When we made it home Y/n was out cold in the passenger seat. So I carried her to our shared bedroom, slipping off her flats and pulling the covers over her body.

I slipped from the room and went back out to the garage grabbing the bags of clothes, and paint. It wasn’t late seeing as I could still hear Sam and Eileen’s TV throughout the hallways.

I dropped the bags of clothes into our room and shut the door slightly. I figured that Y/n would wake up in a few hours since I wasn’t in bed with her. I went to the closest room to our, the number door was 13.

I walked into the room, and noticed that I was probably going to need help from Sam about moving all of this furniture. So I left that room and knocked on Sams door.

Sam opened his door, his annoyed tone telling me either that two of them were about to get it on, or they were about to fall asleep. “I know it’s late for you too, but I need your help Sam! I need you to help me move some furniture in room 13.” Sam ran a hand through shrugging, before turning to give Eileen a kiss on the forehead and walking out with me.

“This better be quick Dean.” Sam said. “It will be I promise you. I’ll get you back to Eileen in a few.” I said.

As we walked into room 13 I explained my plan on painting the room and just moving all the furniture into the middle of the room, so it wasn't in the way of everyone. Sam pushed the bed from the back wall into the middle of the room while I grabbed side table and other small shit and placed it all on top of the bed.

And before I knew it we were done with moving everything. I had also ought a few things prior to our outing. A rocking chair, a few hangers for their clothes, and a bookcase. “Goodnight, Dean. I love ya.” Sam said before walking out of the room shortly after I heard his bedroom door shut.

I ended up putting together the rocking chair first, testing it out a couple of time to make sure that it didn’t fall apart under Y/n. She was already feeling self-conscious about her extra weight that she has already gained.

Afterwards I started to mess with the paint containers. Pouring some of orange color first wanting to get the accent wall done first. I ended up choosing the back wall for the accent wall, which meant that all the surrounding walls were going to that light green Y/n had thought of.

I thought I had heard the door creak, but wasn’t sure until I heard Y/n’s tired voice come from the hallway. “Honey, where are you?” I peaked my head out of the door frame “Oh hey sweetness.” I said with a cheery smile.

I grabbed her hand softly dragging her into the room, I had already put 3 coats of the orange on the wall. “You know this would probably go quicker if you had more help!” Y/n said hugging me

“No... You can’t help me.” I said stubbornly. “You’re already doing everything I can’t you know.” I said. “Dean, I was just saying that because it’s 2 in the morning right now.” Y/n said and she went to go sit on the bed, a few things falling.

“I know that, but no more buts how about instead of sitting on the bed with all that stuff on it, you go sit in the rocking chair in the corner!” I said a little bit of excitement seeping through my voice.

“Aw, when did you get this Dean?” Y/n asked as I helped her sit down. “When you weren’t with me a while ago actually.” I said having to really think about it. “You know it looks amazing! I’m really happy with the way this is turning out, baby.” Y/n said.

“I love you too Y/n!” I said. Y/n pulled me down by the collar of my shirt and wiped some remnants of paint off my nose. “What were you doing saving this for later?” She said. I rolled my eyes and chuckled.  

Completed 01/18/2021

[cuddlesslut]

Live my Life Ch.1

Kuroo x fem reader

Summary: sometimes life is full of making the wrong choices and not knowing till it’s to late.

A/N: this is chapter one of my new story. I’m still writing the Home series I must really wanted to start this story as well. I hope you guys like this one.

Warning: Angst, Smut, Drunk Sex, Underage drinking, toxic behavior

You found yourself sitting in this dingy bar nursing a drink you weren’t supposed to have. This had become part of your routine. It all started about three weeks ago. Your friend Kana, or well you suppose she could be called a friend she was more of a friend of a friend. She seemed nice enough kind of the free spirit type of girl always into the new big trend, not really what you would describe yourself as, more of what you wanted to be. You weren’t exactly some shy shut in but still your anxieties held you back from charging head first into in life and taking the bull by the horns. That’s why you surprised even yourself when you offered to be Kana’s bar buddy.

Kana is bartender at this whole in the wall bar with dim lighting. It got fairly good business but not enough to warrant more than one bartender at a time. That being the case Kana would often be there by herself well late into the night, the neighborhood wasn’t horrible but it still was unsettling sometimes. So as her bar buddy you would come at some point in her shift and find a free seat at the bar hopefully far enough distance from any other patrons. You’d order some fries or whatever greasy snack food you craved and waited there with her while she worked until she was ready to lock up. It was pretty easy you’d just sit there offering her someone to talk when she was bored or when she need to escape some overbearing customers. She’d make her way over too you and pretend to make you a drink. Although she offered you a drink you usually turn her down for the clear fact that you were underage when it came to drinking. It was perfectly fine for you to sit in the establishment since it also served food but at the age of 18 drinking was still prohibited. Being the laid back girl and bartender she was Kana didn’t care about bending that rule for a friend.

Most nights you’d pull out some school work on your tablet that your carried with you or just read some stories on your phone. Usually trying your best to avoid conversation with the regulars. That didn’t work as well as you hoped and soon enough you were quickly learning all of the local gossip and being included in the group known as the regulars. Which is what you were since you found yourself here four nights out of you week. You didn’t mind spending so much of your time here with Kana it was kind of nice to stray from your comfort zone plus you and Kana were steadily getting closer as friends too. Everything was smooth sailing until you met him.

It was a usual Thursday night you got dressed in your causal but sleek outfit. Wearing a comfortable pair of Jeans that hugged your body nicely not too tight but still showed your curves. You paired it with a black blouse and black ankle boots. You freshened up your make up of the day not needing to try to hard seeing as you weren’t going there to impress anyone. In fact you preferred to not draw any attention. Your brushed through your hair finally heading out of your home and too the dingy bar. Things seemed a little off tonight some felt different but still you took your usual seat as you scanned the bar. It was fairly empty only two other customers sitting all the way at the other end of the counter. Kana wasn’t anywhere to be found, she’s probably just grabbing something back you reasoned. And sure enough you could hear a clang in the back of the establishment that was hidden from the public eye. Although it wasn’t Kana that popped around the corner. Instead stood a tall and extremely handsome guy. He was wild black hair that was strewn in a chaotic fashion but it suited him. You could tell by his physique that he was fit , not too overly muscular but when he reached up to put the box he was carrying on the top shelf you could see a peak of a very well defined v line on his tanned skin. This man was the definition of tall, dark ,and handsome. And that wasn’t even mentioning his intense honey eyes that felt like they pierced your soul with just one look. He wore a black pair of fitted jeans and a red button up with strange print on it. You could inspect the odd design more intensely as he approached you with a smirk plastered on his face. Ah they were little black cats that littered his print. The style screamed I’m stylish but quirky.

“Well hello there sweetheart how can I help you?” You could tell he was using his customer service persona. Ah he goes for the smooth talkng flirt, he probably does very well with middle aged woman, you think.

“Um yeah,” you state giving the room one more look “ do you know where Kana is?” You questioned.

His perked at the mention of your friend. You could see him relax a little as he released some tension rolling his shoulders back. “Ahh you must be YN,” he smiled placing his hands on the bar leaning forward. His voice was a notch higher no longer Using his deep Casanova tone, this one was more natural. You eyes widened at the sound of your name leaving his lips.

“Yeah,” you replied hesitant.

“I’m Kuroo Tetsurou,” he presented his hand offering a firm shake to which you awkwardly accepted. “I’m guessing Kana forgot to inform you that id becoming back to work my usual Thursday shift today did she?” He let out a small chuckle.

Damn it Kana you cursed inside your mind. You could have been cozy in bed right now. “Ha nope she did not,” you let out a sigh. “I didn’t realize she was just covering these last few weeks” you respond.

“She just had my Thursday shift Mondays and Wednesdays are still her regular days.” He grinned “she was nice enough to take my shift while I was out with some family stuff.”

“Ahh I see, well I’ll should probably get out of your hair,” you stated starting to slide off the stool.

“Hey wait you came all the way out here let me get you a drink,” he offered.

You froze in your seat for a moment kind of embarrassed. You felt heat creep to your face as you respond “ oh umm I’m not actually old enough I’m only 18,” your eye locked on the surface in front of you.

He let out a chuckle “let me see your ID.”

Your face scrunched in confusion “but-” you start but he cuts you off.

“Shh just hand it over,” he smiles. You raise your eyebrow as you reach into your handbag fishing out your ID and handing it over. He backs upmholding it as though it was valid. “Well look at that! Sure enough you’re 20,” he gives a cheeky smile “so what can I get you to drink?”

You take back your card placing it back safely in your bag a look of shock present on your youthful features. You lean forward whispering “won’t you get in trouble!” Not wanting to have someone risk their job. He lets out a haughty laugh. “My dads the owner so I’m not too worried.” He stated cockily. “So again what are you drinking sweetheart?” Again he flashed that stupid smirk that sent your stomach doing flips.

After two drinks and some idle chit chat in his free time you decided it probably be best if you headed out. He was quick to stop you. “Ahh come on dont leave so soon I was hoping you’d be my bar buddy too,” he pouted. You rolled your eyes at his teasing. It was enough to keep you there though ordering another drink to nurse. It felt nice chatting and casually flirting with this attractive stranger.

This too became part of your routine. You still went to the bar during Kana’s shift to keep her company but you kept going on Thursday and spending you night talking to Kuroo. The both of you spending most of the night getting to know each other. It was just surface things like school, you found out he was two years older than you going to a university near by studying chemical engineering,and your taste in music which was something you had a lot in common. The conversation focused mainly on you. He always directed the flow of the conversation he was so out going and smooth, always asking questions about your day liked hearing about your day as if being a 3rd year in high school was the most exciting thing. You’d sit there for hours with him trying new drinks sometimes finding yourself leaving the bar at three am as if you didn’t have class in four hours. But you didn’t care it was exhilarating this was the most rebellious thing you had ever done. The flirting was harmless never going to far. And although you wouldn’t admit you were getting a crush on the raven haired bartender.

It was just another Wednesday night but today something inside of you told you to dress up more than you’d usually go for. Tonight you wore a simple black dress with a deep neckline that really showed your figure without being to flashy. Your period had recently finished so knowing you were securely dried up you decided to go for a pair of your fancy red lace panties and a matching bra that always boosted your confidence. Not that anyone would be seeing them. You checked yourself one last time before heading out to the bar and damn did you look hot.

When you entered the bar you were surprised to it was rather busy with customers all over the place, luckily you find a seat at the bar. You noticed that Kenma was also behind the bar. Kenma was the other bartender that worked the shifts opposite of Kana and Kuroo. He was also Kuroo’s best friend. You’ve only met him a couple times when he’d come to the bar to see Kuroo while he was on shift. It must be really busy if they called him in to work the bar with Kana.

Kana gave a sigh of relief and smiled as she saw you sitting at the bar. “Oh my god girl hey,” smiled “do you see how hectic it is?” She laughed. She took a moment to fully look you over her eyes wide.

“Damn girl you look fucking hot!” You felt some pride grow in you hearing your friend complement you. She always looked amazing so hearing that she thought you looked great felt like high praise.

“You want a drink babe?” She asked although it was more a of statement as she was already whipping together a drink before you were finished nodding. She handed you a strong yet sweet drink before she was whisked away by some needy patrons.

You sipped on your drink watching Kana handle the crowd. You and Kenmas eyes would lock every now and then but it’s very short and awkward. You don’t know him very well. Part of your anxieties had you convinced he didn’t like you. But you tried not to read into it to much. Kuroo had told you once that it was just that he wasn’t much of a people person only working at the bar as a favor to Kuroo and his father. You sit there silently observing the world around you not noticing someone taking the seat next to you.

“Boo,” a husky voiced whispered into your ear sending shivers down your spine. Kuroo cackled as you jumped turning around clutching your chest.

“What the hell Kuroo!” You gasped trying to steady your breathing. “They call you in too?” You ask referring to the booming business you sat in.

“Nah it’s my day off and I wanted to come have a drink and bug Kenma,” he rose his hand singling said man for a drink. “But looks like I lucked out now I get to bother you all night,” he smirked.

“Oh really and who said I want to have you around I deal with you enough on Thursdays,” you smiled back with a sly look.

He feigned a look of hurt. “Ouch YN you wound me, I thought we were friends,” giving you look that definitely didn’t come off as just friendly. You just roll your eyes trying to hide your intrigue. “Well it seems I need to prove my friendship to you let me by you a drink.” He rested his hand on yours as he signaled for a refill on your drink.

You should have seen it coming but you acted surprised when after several drinks and a couple rounds of shots you found yourself in the back seat of his car. Your red panties tossed to the side somewhere in the vehicle. You were laying back as he dove under the hem your dress. Kuroo looked up to your face his lips barley an inch away from your heat. He had a devious look on his face as he watched your face flush with need. Your lips were swollen from the heated make out sessions you had outside the bar. He quirked his eyebrow teasingly his heavy breath tickling you. He was waiting. It was almost tortuous but you knew what he wanted.

You pouted your chest rising and falling from your hard breathing. “Please!” You begged. He smiled content with hearing your pleas before diving into you his tongue lapping at your wet folds. Your head fell back in pleasure as he ate you out like a man starved. Your moans filled the car as he worked his skilled tongue in and out of you. He could feel how close you were as he felt you clench around his fingers as he worked you loose. Relief flooded your body as you came on his face. Lust still flooding you as you watched him lick up all your juices. He moved up your body sealing your lips into a searing kiss you could taste your essence on his lips.

Your hands reached down his body grabbing at his bulge. He let out a groan in your ear before picking you up and placing you on his lap. He attacked you neck nippping and sucking harsh purple marks into your skin. He pulled the collar of your dress down pulling your breast out . Moving your bra down he latched his lips around your swollen nipple rolling it between his teeth. You let out a pained moan as you rolled you hips into his lap. He finally hit limit. He lifted you up as he pulled his pants and boxers down before lining his achingly hard length with your wet cunt before pulling you down on it. Both of your groans filled the space as you felt him fill you whole. You hid your face in his neck as you panted while he let you adjust to the intrusion. You could feel his hands roaming your ass pushing the skirt of your dress up. A sudden smack came to your ass. You let out a hiss. He rubbed the mark he left on your soft skin.

“Go ahead sweetheart ride my cock,” he demanded. His dirty words sent shivers over body. You did just as he said starting to move your hips up and down rotating on his dick as it reached deep inside of you. Your body was already on edge from your earlier release so it took no time to have you clenching tightly around him you next orgasm fastly approaching.

“Fuck you’re so god damn tight,” he groaned. Lust took over as he grabbed your hips holding you still as he drilled up into your pliant body. Your moans egged him on as he chased both of your climaxes. He loved the feeling of your pussy clamping down on him. Feeling you milk his cock drained him of his will and of his semen as he came deep into you.

You both sat there for a moment both coming down from your highs. Bodies worn from the intense session you had just had. He groaned throughing his head back, “fuck I didn’t wear a condom,” he cursed.

“I’m on birth control” you breathed moving off his lap. You searched for your panties sliding them on quickly trying to contain the mess between your legs.

“Good, that’s good,” he breathed a sigh of relief he looked around both of you. It seemed no one notice dyour little drunken romp in the parking lot. There was a slight awkward pause neither knowing what to say.

“Well that was great,” he offered, “uhh do you need a ride home?” He questioned.

You shook your head, “no I’ll just grab a quick Uber home,” you respond pulling your phone out to do just that.

He nodded seeming to like that idea not wanting you to walk home. “I’ll probably head back in and sober up a little before heading home. I definitely can’t drive right now. I’m not even sure my legs will get me back inside,” he laughed. You giggled as well. A chime rang from your phone, your ride would be pulling up soon.

“Hey give me your number and message me when you get phone safe.” He said taking the phone to send a message to himself successfully trading numbers. He gave you one more deep kiss before you left to catch your Uber.

That night your body passed out exhausted. You knew you were going to regret drinking so much tomorrow morning when you have to wake up for class.

And damn was your body sore. Your head was ponding from all the alcohol and the rest was sore from the wild sex you had. Still you woke up bright and early making sure to shower off any evidence from your delinquent activities. You made sure to take some Advil before leaving for school opting to skip breakfast since your stomach was still unstable from the liquor. Your morning classes were relatively easy not but extremely boring. You found yourself daydreaming through most of your history class thinking back to your night with Kuroo. Little fantasys of dates, and more long talks at the bar, even some naughty ideas popped into your head. It was almost like you willed him into existence because not two seconds later your phone vibrated. Your heart skipped a beat seeing his name pop up in your notifications. You laughed at the way he saved his number last night. Oh my god he texted me you thought you were so giddy. That was until you read the messages.

Kuroo 🥵: Hey YN.

Kuroo 🥵: Last night was a Mistake. Look I have a girlfriend and I love her so I think it’s best we pretend last night never happened. Sorry.

Ouch. That hurt.

General Taglist: @diesinspanishbcimhispanic @graykageyama

Taglist: @captain-janeway @elianetsantana

[jaskiersvalley]

Feral jaskier and himbo geralt are always lovely!!! “So many questions and not enough brain cells” was absolutely MAGNIFICENT

Nonnie, I am so happy you liked that line. It gave me a chuckle to write it too. Feral Jaskier and himbo Geralt are such a delight, I now feel the need to write a little more for you. Movie stars, stunt doubles and idiots ahoy!

Incidentally, this also seems to fit my @sugar-and-spice-witcher-bingo square ‘sharing a brain cell’.

Prompt: Sharing a brain cell Relationships (romantic/platonic/etc): Geralt/Jaskier, Lambert/Eskel/Cahir/Aiden Rating: T Content Warnings: None Summary: Geralt is the star of a TV series with Jaskier as his on screen arch nemesis. Thankfully that rivalry doesn’t carry into real life.  

The set was like a second home by that point. Geralt spent a good nine months of the year there, the crew feeling like family. It was their fifth season of filming, Geralt couldn’t quite get tired of the monster of the week format though. He loved it, loved how cheesy it was and the fact that it was a production that didn’t bait or bury their characters. The natural chemistry he’d had with Jaskier made it so much easier too. They had kissed on screen enough times that he was intimately familiar with the shape of Jaskier’s lips and the taste of the lip balm he wore. That had started three seasons ago and Geralt had been quietly wishing they could kiss away from the cameras too. So he had been planning, even seeking out the advice of those he trusted - namely Eskel and Lambert.

That had been a surprise friendship that Geralt had discovered. Eskel was brought in as he stunt double for more tricky shots. Usually, Geralt liked to do his own stunts but falling off a horse at a gallop was a little beyond him. As was surviving Jaskier’s rather flamboyant fighting style. Just for a laugh Geralt had sat in on a few of Jaskier’s training session and he was so very torn between laughing his arse off and feeling sorry for Cahir who was doing his best to help them train for their fight scenes. For all his patience and expertise, Jaskier seemed determined to add his own flair. The number of times Jaskier accidentally smacked Geralt, Eskel and Cahir during training and on takes was truly staggering. It could have been a blooper reel all on its own.

Thankfully it was a short day, something about a number of the crew requesting the evening off. As it was towards the end of filming, they were within the time budget, it had been declared that they could all have the evening off.

“Just make him a home cooked meal,” Eskel advised. “Guys love that, trust me.”

“It work for you?” Geralt was a little sullen and sceptic. He didn’t think a home cooked meal was what Jaskier would want. On screen they were enemies with a terrible habit of falling into bed. The reality probably wasn’t so far off either. Though, at least, they had become friends after a rocky start.

“Would I be celebrating my fifth anniversary this evening if it didn’t?” There was no small amount of entertainment in Eskel’s face. “It’s not like my looks are what draw anyone in.”

That had been an unfortunate accident from before Geralt’s time. Some pyrotechnic stunt had gone horribly wrong and left Eskel with the scars. If it hadn’t been for those and the different coloured hair, Geralt was sure they could have been mistaken for brothers, if not twins. Still, now Eskel only worked on sets where Lambert was the one in charge of anything fire related. Which was just as well because Geralt liked Lambert, enjoyed trading barbs with him whenever their paths crossed. As Geralt’s fame climbed, he got to ask for more and more things in contracts and, as he was fond of Eskel, he asked for him as a stunt double whenever he could and then asked for Lambert if the set called for it. It was nice to have so much power and be able to work with those he liked. Interestingly, Cahir was fast becoming another person who Geralt got on with quite well. That wasn’t to say Geralt wasn’t scared shitless of him at the start. Nobody should know so much about fighting with so many weapons without having a very colourful past - one that Cahir refused to talk about. Still, the guy was good at his job and Geralt could talk to him, so his advice was sought out too.

“Just tell him. Bring him something you know he will like. Show an interest in him and his life outside of set.”

For the first time ever, Geralt felt that Cahir was in a rush. He wasn’t quite as patient and measured as usual.

“Excited for the evening off?” he asked, trying to be friendly. And maybe he was practicing Cahir’s advice on him so he could be sure it worked when he talked to Jaskier.

A soft, shy smile crossed Cahir’s face, making him look younger and much less severe. “That obvious? It’s my anniversary today. I want to make it special.”

“Maybe bring them a gift that they’ll like?” Geralt offered with an amused smile. “I have it on good authority that it works.”

Laughing, Cahir clapped Geralt on the shoulder. “Best of luck. Now go get your man.”

Finding Jaskier wasn’t an issue, Geralt just had to follow the sound of laughter and singing. Unsurprisingly, Jaskier was sat with a gigantic sparkler while Lambert was packing away. Those two were a dangerous combination at the best of times and Geralt knew Jaskier had, on more than one occasion, dropped by the writers’ room to posit new ideas that centred around more pyrotechnics. The ideas had obviously come from Lambert but they were mostly good so got used surprisingly frequently.

“Aha! My companion for the evening has arrived!” Jaskier hopped off the box he had been swinging his legs off and approached Geralt. “What say you? Dinner. You and me. We enjoy this rare evening off with some good company and good food.”

“Sounds good,” Geralt agreed readily, it saved him having to ask Jaskier.

Turning back, Jaskier waved at Lambert. “Enjoy your anniversary this evening! Make sure you can walk properly tomorrow though!”

Another anniversary. While Geralt had been feeling quite confident about asking Jaskier out, the news that it was yet another person’s anniversary somewhat ruined the idea. Geralt knew Jaskier liked to be unique, adored being different to everyone else. To ask him out now and share an anniversary with three people they knew, it felt a little less special. Mood taking a bit of a dive, Geralt slouched next to Jaskier as they walked towards the cars.

“Why the glum face?” Typically, nothing went over Jaskier’s head. “Would you prefer a night of solitude?”

Shaking his head, Geralt resigned himself to the knowledge that Jaskier would wheedle until he got the truth out of him. So he saved them both a lot of time and agony. “It’s stupid.”

“Nothing’s ever stupid, just needs to be valued correctly.”

“I wanted to ask you something. But make it special. It’s not special though, not today. Maybe I’ll try tomorrow.”

That made not a lick of sense to Jaskier and he frowned, bumping his shoulder against Geralt’s. “Just ask.”

“But it won’t be special. Three other couples we know have an anniversary today.”

A soft laugh from Jaskier pulled him from his grumblings. “So many people have their anniversaries every day. It’s not like one single day can be declared as only one couple’s.”

For someone so smart, Jaskier sure wasn’t putting the pieces together to solve just what Geralt was trying to say.

“But would you really want an anniversary when Lambert, Eskel and Cahir each have theirs too?” It was actually a little odd, now that Geralt thought of it. Three good friends all sharing an anniversary.

There was a moment of silence before Jaskier was rounding on Geralt, hands on his shoulders to stop him mid-walk.

“Dear heart, please tell me I’m hearing this wrong. Firstly, if I was so lucky as to have an anniversary, I wouldn’t care who I shared it with. I would love to simply have one, especially if you’re offering to have one with me. Secondly, please tell me you know why those three all have their anniversary date today.”

Mind whirring, Geralt tried to process everything Jaskier had just said. He picked the easier bit to reply to first. “They were on a night out together and met their partners at the same time? Bit like how people date within the same friendship groups or even date siblings?”

Face falling, Jaskier cursed under his breath. “And I thought I wasn’t being obvious enough. Oh dear. Geralt, those three, it’s their anniversary together. As in they’re all dating each other. And Aiden is at home, waiting for them. He got the day off today too.”

Geralt’s jaw fell slack. He couldn’t quite believe it. “They-they’re together?!”

“And they’ve not been subtle at all about it!” Jaskier was laughing. “I love you but you are so dumb, I swear.”

That forced Geralt back into the moment and he smiled. “I love you too.”

He didn’t expect an enthusiastic kiss out in the open but he really didn’t mind it at all. With a huff of a laugh Geralt returned it, arms wrapping around Jaskier’s waist.

“Come on then,” Jaskier finally said as he broke away. I believe we have our zero-th anniversary to have and make a solid start on new traditions. I think we should order takeaway as a treat for our anniversaries from now on.”

Laughing, Geralt linked their hands. He liked the idea of anniversary traditions. Jaskier most definitely had the best ideas.

[theasstour]

𝐅𝐈𝐂 𝐏𝐀𝐆𝐄 | 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 𝟏𝟑𝐤 𝐍𝐁: 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞, 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐠𝐠𝐥𝐞𝐬

AN: Massive thank you to my dearest @fromyourstrulyh​ who helped me sm with this chapter! Love you tons, Jess 🐚✨

Monday, 15 June

Fore Street wasn’t particularly busy this early in the morning. People were driving to work, and others were strolling by near the road, leaving the main shopping street of St Ives almost deserted. The bright yellow early morning sun peeked over the rooftops of the stone cottages, casting some of the street in a tad too chilly shadow and the other half in cool sunshine. Having just had breakfast with Bessie, Y/N was strolling along the cobblestoned street, relishing in the calmness at the start of the week.

Wearing her satin pleated forest green midi skirt, a white tee shirt and white Vans, Y/N was a little cold, but her walk wasn’t a long one. She walked by Vintage Divine a few times, but never gone inside, today that was going to change. With her tote bag at the ready in her purse, Y/N entered the vintage shop, quickly noticing she was the second customer there. She strolled on over to what looked to be a rack of dresses and long skirts. She had absolutely nothing else to do all day so she could spend all of it in here, she didn’t care. She’d most likely enjoy her time there very much.

Capital was being played over the speaker, and though Y/N wasn’t sure that was the kind of vibe a vintage shop had, she loved it regardless. It had been so long since she’d been in a vintage shop, and never had she had the privilege of buying something without having people inspect her finds when she got home. She was sure she walked around for an hour, maybe even a bit longer, before she recognised the voice talking behind the till.

Looking over, she saw Florence, one of the ladies in Bessie’s little knitting circle. She picked up the red and pink headband she’d been looking at before making her way toward her. When their eyes met, Y/N gave Florence a wide grin that she returned, waving Y/N over.

“Would you look at that? Speak of the devil, ey, Camila?” Florence said, gesturing at Y/N. A woman around the same age glanced at Y/N over the rim of her glasses, raising her eyebrows as she studied her.

“This is her?”

“Sure is.”

“Oh, my word, what an absolute beauty. Why Harry kept you away for so long is a mystery.”

“Aww,” Y/N chuckled. “Thanks. More to do with privacy than anything else, I suppose.”

“You know,” Florence said as she started scanning the items Y/N wanted to buy. “We were just saying, the person who most needs a partner right now is Harry.”

“Yeah, that lad’s been stuck in that lighthouse ever since his father died. It’s very sad,” Camila went on, making a point of looking at both Y/N and Florence over her glasses to see them clearly. “Maybe you can break him out of his shell a bit. Think having someone like you who can take him out will be good for him.”

“Harry likes being on his own.”

“That’s right,” Florence went on after Y/N, looking at Camila. “Y/N is living at the Crab Inn. At Bessie’s.”

Camila gasped. “He won’t even let her stay at his house?”

Y/N didn’t know why the two women were talking about her like she wasn’t there. Clearing her throat some, she said, “We don’t want to overwhelm each other. We haven’t stayed together for more than a few days before.”

“But don’t new couples bunny out in the first phase of their relationship?” Camila was as blunt as she was almost blind, Y/N thought.

This took Y/N off guard and she forced a breathy chuckle out, bringing a few quid out to pay Florence. “I’m sorry, but I don’t think that’s any of your business.”

Camila looked to Florence and Florence only shrugged, Y/N didn’t know if that meant Florence agreed with Y/N or Camila.

“Harry’s a handsome bloke, there’s no reason-“

“Have you at least been to the lighthouse?” Florence asked to speak over Camila, giving Y/N a friendly smile. Y/N appreciated Florence stepping in when she sensed Camila taking it a bit too far.

Y/N nodded, probably a bit too frantically. “Yes, quite a few times.”

“Harry won’t let anyone to the top, says it breaks some rule or something,” Florence said.

“Think it’s just him and his family being a bit selfish, if you ask me,” Camila went on.

“Oh, now you’re being proper arsey, Camila.” Florence only sighed before turning her attention back on Y/N. “Been to the top yet?”

“First place he took me.”

“Of course,” Florence smiled. “See you around, darling.”

“Bye, Florence. Bye, Camila.” Y/N waved at the both of them, walking on out of Vintage Divine and on her way back to the Inn. She felt her heart racing quickly with the lies she’d just told. How could she be fake dating the lighthouse keeper and not have been to the lighthouse yet? Though she hated to lie like that, she reminded herself that the reason she was doing it was to get people off Harry’s back. He seemed like such a genuine lad; she’d do anything to help him. But lying about something she could so quickly change by just taking a walk to the lighthouse seemed silly.

Wednesday, 17 June

Y/N had never been this close to a lighthouse. She’d watched them from afar, never really given them any proper thought. They were an essential part of navigation at sea, but she had no idea how they worked, and until a few days ago, she hadn’t given thought to how they were operated either. She didn’t think lighthouse keepers were a thing anymore, let alone that they even lived in the lighthouse still. Maybe they lived in town and occasionally spent time in the lighthouse, but surely, they didn’t live there.

However, as Y/N walked along the gravel road leading up to Clodgy Lighthouse, that seemed to be the case. It was an elegant white building. Strangely the lighthouse looked like it hadn’t endured a single storm in the decades Y/N knew it had stood there. That therefore made her draw the conclusion that Harry was the one keeping this lighthouse under pristine and incredible conditions. It shone in the sunbeams shining down on it. At the very top, surrounding the beacon at the top of the lighthouse, there was black fencing, so Y/N guessed one could sit out there and get a pretty grand view of the St Ives Bay. Well, not all of it, but a pretty good 360 shot regardless.

Beside the tall white building, stood a one-storey hut. It was white as well, matching transparent embroidered curtains hanging from all the windows Y/N could see from her vantage-point on the gravel road. They were neatly tucked to the side, letting natural daylight stream in through the windows and in on what she assumed to be Harry’s house. It was rectangular, with a dark blue door in the middle of one of the shorter lengths of the house. In front of what looked to be a pebbled driveway sat an old yellow Ford Econoline, a very out-there car for someone who was so incredibly shy.

She did a 360, looking about the open moor that surrounded her. It was completely empty, with no one living near the lighthouse, and St Ives a 40-minute walk from here. It must be equally liberating and lonely, Y/N thought, not sure if she could muster living all by herself like this. But Harry seemed to be just the guy for this job.

Different coloured flowers were strewn around the lighthouse and Harry’s cottage, wild and untamed. It didn’t seem like Harry bothered cutting the grass around his house either, just mainly around the lighthouse, probably for better access, Y/N had no idea. However, upon closer inspection, all types of insects flew to and from all the flowers and plants, zooming away once Y/N hunched down and picked two flowers she didn’t know the name of. She liked the fact that the bees could roam around the little field without problem. They were welcomed and encouraged to stay. Y/N didn’t know if this was Harry’s intention, but she liked to think it was. She’d always wanted to get into gardening, but she’d never had the time.

The door to the cottage opened and Harry came to view, taking a few steps outside to see what Y/N was doing by the ground. She stood, smiling and waving as she made her way over to him. He wore a pair of tapered retro black jeans, cuffed at the ankles, along with a loose fitted white, orange and blue shirt, one part of the front tucked into his jeans. His feet were bare, and his hair was a mess. It looked like she’d caught him off guard.

“Hiya,” Y/N smiled, walking closer. “Good morning.”

“Ehm…” Harry nodded, running a hand through his hair. While doing so it was as if he remembered he hadn’t styled it this morning, hurriedly trying to make it look somewhat decent without the help of a mirror. “Morning.”

“Did I startle you?”

“What? Oh! No, no, I…” He trailed off, pointing through the door with his thumb but letting his hand fall to his thigh, hitting it lightly. “Just drinking me morning cuppa reading the  paper.”

“I’ve been up since 7, so I haven’t really done much besides eat and then walk here.”

Harry nodded, and for a few seconds, the two were left in silence as they just looked at one another. Neither knew what to say, or even what to talk about. They didn’t know what they had in common, or if they had anything in common at all. Y/N just knew she wanted to get to know the   man she was supposed to be in a relationship with this summer. Coming to visit his lighthouse and home seemed like a good thing to do. She didn’t know what Harry was thinking, but by the blank look he was giving her, she was starting to regret coming here at all.

However, that was not going to stop her. If they wanted to make this work, she didn’t want to make it awkward for them by not knowing how to act around Harry when they were around people.

“So,” she started, walking past Harry and his van. “This is the tall, pointy house you were referring to the other day.”

Harry followed her towards the lighthouse, unbothered by the gravel under his bare feet. “Yeah, it draws attention, doesn’t it?”

Y/N giggled. “How much time do you spend keeping it clean? It doesn’t look weather-beaten at all. Would’ve thought lighthouses to be in much worse conditions.”

“Trinity House comes and does a thorough clean about once a year, but I do most of the work myself. As long as the sailors can tell this is Clodgy Lighthouse, then it’s fine.”

She paused. “Trinity House?”

“The official authority of lighthouses in the UK.”

“Ahh!” She nodded. “And how do sailors know this is Clodgy?”

Harry pointed at it, referring to the entire thing with a sweeping up and down hand motion. “From the sea, a lighthouse may be identified by the distinctive shape or colour of its structure, by the colour or flash pattern of its light, or by the coded pattern of its radio signal,” he explained and the more he talked, the more Y/N could detect a northern accent. “When ships pass here, they’ll know it’s Clodgy by the pattern of the beacon, as well as the fact it’s completely white. Others may be other colours, for example white and red stripes. But Clodgy’s always been white, I couldn’t really change it if I wanted to. Not that I do.”

That was the most she’d ever heard Harry speak, from what she knew about him so far he wasn’t much of a talker. Too nervous and shy by nature, it seemed.

“I didn’t think of that before.”

“You also didn’t think they were operated by lightkeepers anymore.”

Y/N gasped, smiling at Harry as he tore his eyes away from her, his dimples showing as he glanced to the ground again. “He’s got bants.”

Harry chuckled. “Career in stand-up comedy next.”

She laughed, walking around the lighthouse and looking about the cliffs. They were steep, looking right down on big rocks that made up most of the Clodgy Point where the lighthouse was positioned. Harry was standing a fair distance away, leaning against the white building with his hands in his jean pockets. Because of the constant wind, Y/N walked closer and leaned against the lighthouse as well, studying the landscape and the ocean before them.

“I’ve mostly seen masonry and brick lighthouses, this is concrete,” she said, not wanting their conversation to die out this early. She’d just gotten here. Maybe lighthouses weren’t their main concern seeing as they needed to establish their relationship before facing other people, but it seemed to be what Harry was most comfortable speaking about and she wanted him to feel comfortable around her.

“Concrete and steel are the most widely used materials,” he said. “Concrete especially makes for an aesthetically pleasing design for shore-based lighthouses.”

“Shore-based? There are different kinds. I mean, I always thought lighthouses would be out on islands rather than on land.”

“Yeah, there are-“ He stopped himself, looking at her to his right and meeting her eyes for a few seconds. “I won’t bore you with lighthouse facts.”

“Wouldn’t ask if I didn’t wanna know.”

He bit his lips together, turning to face the sea again. “Right.”

She continued to watch him, waiting patiently for him to find the right words to speak again.

He cleared his throat and went on. “There are two types of lighthouses, yeah? Those located on land and those located offshore. A land lighthouse like this one-“ Harry knocked on the concrete wall behind him. “-Its job is to aid navigation over land rather than water. They’re usually constructed in areas of flatland where the featureless landscape and prevailing weather conditions might cause travellers to get disoriented or lost. A tower like this is therefore visible for miles.”

“Makes sense.” Y/N nodded, glancing up at the house as Harry continued.

“Offshore lighthouses are the ones you seem to think of, they’re far from land. Reasons for them being built in that specific area can be ‘cause of a shoal, a reed, or a submerged island several miles from land. They’re there to warn sailors they’re close to dangerous territory, basically.”

“You know so much about this stuff.”

“It’s my job.”

Y/N laughed, maybe a little too loudly but she found it funny, so she didn’t see a reason to be embarrassed or excuse her loud exclamation of joy. “That explains your obsession.”

He smiled, meeting her eyes for a second before glancing at his bare feet. “What’s yours?”

“My job?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh…” Now it was her turn to not want to meet his eyes. It wasn’t that she was ashamed, it was just that her answer was so boring. Maybe even a little unusual, especially for someone who should’ve been in the middle of finishing uni right about now. “I don’t have one.”

“You doing uni then?”

“Nope.”

That got Harry to shut up. It was clear he didn’t know what other questions to ask after that. What did you ask someone who didn’t have a job and didn’t go to uni without sounding disrespectful or degrading? He glanced away, pursing his lips as he fell silent again.

“My Mum was a stay-at-home Mum, so I was kind of expected to end up the same way. Trained for it my whole life and all.”

“You don’t want to do that?”

“No.” Y/N shook her head. “I mean, it would be perfect in a sense ‘cause I could read all the time, but I don’t want to spend eternity reading, you know what I mean?”

“Know exactly what you mean.”

She smiled at him. “You don’t like reading?”

“It’s not something I do very often, no.”

“Boring.”

Harry chuckled.

“It’s fun,” Y/N said, trying to sound convincing, but she was sure that if some people didn’t like to read, she wasn’t about to force them to buy a book and read it. “Anyway, I got this one dream a few years back, but it’s silly, really.”

Just then, the same ringing tone she’d heard from Harry’s phone before sounded from his pocket again. He cursed under his breath and brought his phone up, looking at the screen for a few seconds as if reading something before shoving it into his pockets again.

“I…” He sighed, running a hand over his face. “Sorry, what were you saying?”

“No, if you have to take that, it’s no big deal.”

“It’s nothing, no one’s calling me-“ But he was interrupted by the ringing sounding again. He brought his phone out and brought it up to his upper right arm before checking it again, sighing before looking at Y/N. He gave her an apologetic smile before motioning back to the house. “Gotta get back in there.”

“That’s fine,” she said, really meaning it.

Harry nodded, biting at his bottom lip as the two of them walked back in silence. The wind was still harsh, but Y/N guessed that was because of the flat landscape and the ocean being right there. She was used to wind, but not as constant as this.

“Listen,” Harry said as they reached his front door that he’d left open. “I’m so sorry about the whole fake relationship thing. I feel like I pushed it on you, and you don’t really wanna do it. You don’t have to do it-“

“-I genuinely don’t have anything else to do all summer. I think it’d be fun.”

Harry nodded, running a hand through his hair. She could see the ghost of a smile on his lips. “Right, yeah.”

“We good?”

“Yeah, I just want to make it clear that we can break this off whenever. If it hadn’t been for me and my lie, this wouldn’t have happened.”

“It’s honestly fine. It’ll keep my otherwise dull summer eventful and it’ll help you out. Think it works out fine, we just have to establish our relationship a bit so we don’t go around telling stories that contradict one another.”

His smile grew some. “Smart. We should definitely just sit down and figure it out.”

“What’s your number?” she asked, walking over to him with her phone in her hand. He reached for it, meeting her eyes to ask if it was fine that he grabbed for it. She gave him a little smile; he took it and typed his number into her phone. “Just so we can get a hold of one another and figure everything out. I’ll send you a text so you get mine.”

He kissed his teeth for a second or two and gave her phone back to her before saying so quickly Y/N barely understood what he was getting at, “Would you mind coming to Gracie’s birthday party on Saturday?”

Y/N remembered Jessa and Grace inviting her when she met them a few days prior, but she hadn’t thought about it till now. Harry’s brows were knitted together, something that resembled worry on his face as if he expected her to turn him down.

“Yes, of course! When? Oh!” Y/N jumped a little, suddenly experiencing a jolt of excitement rolling through her. “Has she got a list of things she wants for her birthday? I should get her a present.”

“You really don’t have to,” Harry said, but he was smiling.

“I think I do, and I love shopping.”

Harry’s smile widened and he looked at the pebbles under Y/N’s feet. “I’ll pick you up at 2pm on Saturday, then. It’s on the family farm, just a five-minute drive from town.”

“That sounds so lovely.”

“It’s the best place on earth,” Harry agreed, staying quiet for a couple more seconds before he seemed to remember why the two had walked back to his house in the first place. He shook his head quickly, clearing his throat and taking a step closer to the door. “Right, I’m sorry I can’t hang out more today. I got to… work.”

“That’s completely fine, I’ll talk to you later. You know where to find me.” She deliberately used that last sentence as he’d used it when they last parted ways, and it seemed Harry recognised that as well. He met her eyes as she started walking backward, giving her a genuine smile, one of his dimples showing. She waved her bouquet of two wildflowers, hearing Harry’s phone ring again as she turned around to walk off, and then his front door shutting quickly after.

Saturday, 20 June

Two different massive books lay on the desk in front of Y/N, one a little bigger than the other. She wasn’t sure which one was better to get her started, she hadn’t researched that before buying them at the Waterstones at home in Hampshire. All she knew was that they would both help make her achieve the same thing: master the UCAT exam. She hadn’t signed up for it yet, didn’t know when the next one was, but she knew that before she did that, she had to study first. But which one of the massive books was she supposed to open first?

The University Clinical Aptitude Test was used by most UK Universities on top of general applications, and academic qualifications, for their medical and dental programs. It aimed to help Universities select applicants with the most appropriate skills and attributes required to be a successful doctor or dentist. It was a test that Y/N, who was usually good at not stressing herself out, was sure would make her very nervous.

Her parents had never been interested in her achievements at school. They were sure she’d end up like her mother, and quite liked the fact she’d picked up reading and that she read as she did. It was an intellectual and quiet hobby they thought suited her well. Though Y/N loved to read, she didn’t want to study it in school. She didn’t want to taint something she found so much peace in with sleepless nights and forced readings. No, she had always wanted to keep that part of her life in a separate box from her academic one.

In school, she’d always thought science subjects to be fascinating. She ended up studying chemistry, biology, and maths for A-levels, she realised she did well in them because she thoroughly enjoyed her time there. Though it was hard, she liked how it opened her up to everything she wanted. Her parents hadn’t cared much for what she studied in A-levels, but it seemed to have shocked them that she did so well in subjects that juxtaposed with everything they thought Y/N was interested in. A little part of her was proud of herself for startling her parents like that; for doing the unthinkable in their eyes.

However, that was years ago now. Y/N hadn’t touched an academic book since. She was 25 and hadn’t gone to University like her friends from school. She hadn’t pursued her dreams. In her strict, rich family, she didn’t have to work a single hour for the rest of her life because her Dad had all the money they’d ever need. Plus, she hadn’t helped herself when she started going out with Dominic, another man who studied Business Management at University and someone whom Y/N’s Dad very much approved of. Y/N had been set. That was her life.

But she didn’t want that. She’d never wanted that. When she told her parents and Dominic this, they agreed it could get a bit tedious sitting around doing nothing but house chores all day. Y/N and her Mum had therefore volunteered at the hospital in town a few days a week, and some other days Y/N spent volunteering at a dentist. That was when she realised, she wanted to be a dentist. She didn’t really know why, had never really harboured a proper explanation for her interest, but she knew she wanted to be one. When Y/N told her Mum this, she just shook her head and took Y/N’s hand.

“What’d I do if you went away to uni, darling?” she asked, something that immediately sent a jolt of sadness and guilt through Y/N. Her Mum was right, she couldn’t just leave her. Y/N was the only child her parents had; she couldn’t disappoint them.

Y/N ran her hands over her face and then through her hair, forcing back the tears that were threatening to spill over. She wasn’t going to cry. She just wasn’t. Why would she cry? She’d escaped the life she hated back in Winchester, the two UCAT practice books she’d bought in secret at Waterstones were right before her, waiting to be opened and devoured. Why was she thinking about her life before this?

Y/N jumped up from her seat, looking at herself in the mirror beside the dresser. She quickly wiped away the tears on her cheek, as if doing it fast enough would hide the fact she was crying. She refused to cry.

Walking downstairs, she helped herself to a cup of tea in the kitchen, saying a quick hi to Bessie and her ladies before walking back upstairs. Putting her cuppa down on the desk, she gave her cheeks a little slap each, then sat down.

“Concentrate,” she hissed at herself, opening the window in front of the desk to let in some fresh air and seagull song.

Taking a deep breath, she reached for the bigger of the two books, tapping her fingers against the blue cover as if bracing herself for what she’d find on the inside. Opening the   book and starting to read it was a commitment. That was a big if, because so far she had a ton of money on her credit card, but she didn’t have enough to pay for University tuition or rent.

She closed her eyes and willed herself to not think about anything but the contents of the book before her. If she wanted to do this, she’d have to do it with her whole heart, she couldn’t let anything distract her when she wanted to read for the UCAT. Inhaling slowly, she opened the book, reading the table of contents before the introduction..

She could do this, she believed in herself. She told herself that over and over again the next three hours, not losing sight of what she wanted and deserved. At the end of the day, if she didn’t tell herself those things, who else would?

“You look lovely,” Bessie said as Y/N stood in the lobby of the Inn, grinning from ear to ear. “Heading somewhere special, dear?”

Y/N looked down at her baby blue mini smock dress, small daisies printed and sporadically littered all over it. She smiled at Bessie, nodding her head a little. “It’s Harry’s little sister’s birthday.”

Bessie raised her eyebrows a tad, a knowing smile on her lips. She looked Y/N up and down again. “You’re going to that are you?”

“Yes, is this inappropriate?”

“No, no!” Bessie laughed. “I’m just happy to see you and Harry hanging out. He’s such a sweet lad.”

“He is, yeah.” Y/N was unsure if she should thank Bessie for the other day, or if it had been so long now that it would be weird. The innkeeper had never brought it up again, never talked about Harry until today, but judging by the raised eyebrows and smile on her face, Y/N was sure Bessie knew more than she was supposed to. However, seeing as she’d lied with Harry and Y/N, Y/N trusted Bessie to not tell people. It’d break Jessa’s heart for sure, and Y/N had a hunch that if that woman’s heart was broken, the entire town’s would be as well.

The mellow yellow Ford van Y/N had seen a few days earlier at Harry’s pulled up in front of the Inn’s open entrance. A pair of orange pilot sunglasses were perched on his nose, almost matching the exterior of the car. He reached down rolling the window down manually, giving Y/N a smile when their eyes met, and then Bessie the same one when he noticed her standing by the reception desk.

“You alright?” he asked just as the window got a bit stuck. He yanked the handle a bit to get it all the way around and stopped when the window was fully open. Clearing his throat, he reached to rest his arm where the window was no more, bumping his elbow and top of his head in the process. Bessie chuckled some behind Y/N, but Y/N held her giggles back. Opting for a smile instead once Harry met her gaze again.

“Get yourself a proper car, Harry,” Bessie said.

“This one works just fine, Bess.” Harry pushed his sunglasses further up the bridge of his nose as they slid down some when he bumped his head. “Besides, it’s massive.”

“Why do you need a massive car?”

“Massive car for a massive hunk.” He glanced at Y/N again as both women laughed at his remark. “You ready?

“Tell you-“ Y/N said as she stepped outside, on her way around the front of the car when she stopped herself, waving at Bessie. “Bye, Bessie!”

“Bye, dear! Have fun!”

Y/N opened the passenger side door and jumped a little to get inside the van, sitting down in the seat and putting her seatbelt on as she talked. “Tell you what, you got bants.”

“What happens when you grow up overweight,” Harry said, a smile on his face so she’d know he was making light of the situation.

“Oh?” Y/N asked, rolling down her window as well when Harry motioned for her to do so.

“The AC’s a bit fucked,” he explained, giving Bessie one last wave before driving off down the Terrace. Wind blew in on them, nice contrast to the scorching sun outside, though it was a bit loud, but Harry just talked over it. “But yeah, you got to be the cracking bloke who always tells jokes and makes everyone laugh. Why else would they want you in their circle?” There was a slight pause. “Actually, forget I said that. That’s an incredibly depressing place to start our day together, I-“

Y/N just laughed, finding the way Harry’s cheekbones turned all red and how he scratched at his neck in embarrassment, adorable.

“Sorry,” he said.

“You don’t have to say you’re sorry, it’s completely fine.” She opened her purse, rummaging through it. “I got Grace this.” She held a headband out. Pink silk with red along the edges and red roses to match, Y/N had absolutely adored it when she saw it in Vintage Divine a few days before and she thought it’d look good in Gracie’s dark hair. “Dunno if she likes this kind of stuff, but if she doesn’t then Jessa’s free to take it.”

“If you give her something that nice, she’s going to cherish it and wear it every day. Mark my words.”

Y/N giggled. “Alright, I will mark them.”

Harry smiled a bit at that, keeping his eyes on the road ahead. When he didn’t notice her staring, Y/N took a few seconds to just study him and what he was wearing. A green and white tee shirt tucked into dark blue denim jeans, a pair of worn-down white Vans on his feet. He looked good, and the orange sunglasses made the whole outfit. She glanced away, not wanting to seem like a creep or like she was checking him out, because she was not.

“Who is coming to this birthday then?” she asked, putting the headband down in her purse again.

“Family. Maybe some of Gracie’s friends, but I think they’re having two separate birthday parties. Jessa and Gracie love a good social convention.”

Y/N smiled. “And you don’t?”

“I live by myself in a lighthouse.”

She laughed. “You don’t like people?”

“Nah, it’s not that,” Harry explained. “More the fact that I want to choose when to be around them, you know what I mean? I need a bit of breathing space, being around someone all the time makes me feel a bit claustrophobic.”

“Gotcha.”

Harry was silent for a few moments as he put on his turning signalled and then turned. “What about you?”

“Pardon?”

“Do you like people?”

Y/N sat back in her seat properly, thinking about that question for a little bit. “Depends.”

“Okay.”

“If I don’t particularly like spending time with them, I don’t want to be around them.”

“Understandable.”

“But if I don’t know them very well yet or if I like them, then I don’t mind. I don’t like feeling lonely.”

“But if you don’t know the people you’re around, that’s just as lonely as being alone, isn’t it?”

“Maybe, but if you don’t know someone, that’s potential to get to know them and make a friend,” she explained, watching as the town centre of St Ives started disappearing around them.

“Hmm,” Harry hummed, waving at someone out his window. “Can see that.”

Y/N smiled. “You seem popular, though.”

“Me?”

“Yeah, everyone seems to know who you are.”

“The former lighthouse keeper’s son, and now current lighthouse keeper. Think that’s why.”

Y/N shrugged, not wanting to press the subject as she didn’t want to force an image of him that she’d created in her head onto him before getting to know him. She had to trust what he was saying and make her own observations. “What’re you giving Grace for her birthday then?”

“Trip to St Austell next Friday,” he said, stepping down on the gas a bit once they were on a more deserted country road. “About an hour north from here. There’s gonna be a street market there and she loves going on trips with me. She gets to decide the music, what shops we go to, and I always buy her two ice creams even though Jessa has a strict ‘only one ice cream per trip’ policy. We usually don’t give one about that.”

“That sounds wonderful.”

“It kind of is, yeah.”

“Is there something special about St Austell, then?”

Harry turned his lips downward for a second. “Not really. Just know from a mate who travels there a lot that there’s gonna be a street market on their high street.”

“Every fortnight, there would be a market in the town centre at home. Anyone could put up a stall and sell their homemade stuff. There was always this cheese and this fish booth standing right next to one another, and they smelled absolutely rank.”

Harry smiled. “You don’t like the smell of cheese and fish?”

“I’ve never been a fan of cheese, and though fish isn’t bad smelling, it… right okay, doesn’t smell good, does it?”

Harry shrugged. “Dunno, I’ve lived here most of my life, so I’ve gotten quite used to the smell of fish over the years. Doesn’t really faze me now.”

“Lucky you, then.”

“And cheese is amazing.”

“That’s a blatant untruth. How dare you?”

Harry laughed, scrunching up his nose some before putting his turning signal on and then driving off the concrete road and onto a gravel one. They drove in silence the last part up to the farm. Forest rose up around them, but not thick enough so that you couldn’t make out distant houses or driveways leading up to other farms or neighbourhoods. It didn’t take long till Harry drove down a wider driveway, a thin line of trees along the edge of the estate that Y/N assumed was the Styles family’s.

A brick house along with a smaller brick house stood at the end of the small drive. Stone fencing surrounded the house, but the field outside of it was lush, green, and huge. Cars were parked there and people were hanging out inside the stone fence, sitting on tables or standing chatting. Different coloured flowers grew in front of the fence and by the looks of it, Jessa was growing a lot of vegetables on the other side. There were a few trees behind the house and inside what seemed to be the main area of the lot, so Y/N assumed they were trees that grew fruits as well. She couldn’t seem to remove her eyes from the little country oasis before her. It looked so tranquil that she almost wanted to live on a farm herself.

Harry parked his car on the grass outside the fence along with the rest of the guests. The second Grace noticed the mellow yellow van, she ran out to greet her older brother. Harry smiled at the sight of her and stopped the car, quickly turning to Y/N as he took his seatbelt off and started manually rolling up his window.

“I won’t leave your side, yeah? This can be a bit overwhelming, and you’ve never met my family before-“

“-And I won’t leave yours,” Y/N assured him, nodding as she took off her seatbelt as well. “Harry, we need to discuss our backstory-“

“-Harry!” Grace shouted, banging on the door and trying to get it open.

“One second, Gracie, I’m rolling the window up.” He turned his attention to Y/N. “Just keep yours down, it’ll get hot in here ‘cause of the sun.” He made sure his was shut before he paused for a moment, blinking once. “Fuck, we haven’t-“

“-Harry!” Grace knocked on the door again, jiggling the handle. “You haven’t said happy birthday to me yet!”

He sighed, giving Y/N a look before turning toward his door. “Step away, Grace. If I open the door now, I’ll mow you over.”

Y/N stepped outside as well, for the first time then paying attention to the noise of the farm. She thought she heard hens somewhere in between the chatter of the party guests, the smell of the open nature around her offering something besides the salt ocean and fish of St Ives. On the other side of the car, Harry pretended to struggle picking Grace up, something that had his little sister laughing. He walked over to the other side to Y/N, Grace grinning from ear to ear when she finally saw who’d come with Harry.

“You came!” Grace exclaimed, clapping her hands together.

“Couldn’t miss your birthday, could I?” Y/N grinned, opening her purse. “My birthday present isn’t as good as your brother’s, but here you go.”

She handed Grace the headband and as Harry gasped, Grace gasped with him. He put her down, letting her study her birthday present.

“It’s so pretty,” Grace said. “I think I like it more than Harry’s.”

“Oi!” Harry frowned down at her. “Hurting my feelings now, mate.”

Grace only giggled, giving Y/N a smile. “Thank you.”

“Happy birthday.”

“There’s food!” Grace pointed at the house and started making her way there, expecting the two to follow. Harry made sure Y/N was tagging along before the two strolled after his little sister.

“How old is she now?”

“Seven.”

“Oh.” Y/N blinked a few times. “Thought she was ten when I met her.”

Harry let out a breathy laugh. “That’s weird.”

“Hey now. I don’t know what seven-year-olds look like.” Y/N nudged his arm with her shoulder. It only made him laugh again.

“Oh, uhm…” He swallowed, glancing between the farm and Y/N. “You don’t have to do this, but with my grandpa – or step-grandpa, I usually call him lolo, which is Tagalog for grandpa – the pamilya and lolo would really appreciate if you did the mano po.”

“Mano po?”

“It’s a gesture of respect for the elders, basically. You take their hand-“ Harry pretended as if there was a hand before him. “And you take their knuckles or their hand and touch it to your forehead. Instead of a handshake, you do that. We don’t really do it to anyone else here as we don’t have that much Filipino family in Cornwall, but lolo is big on it. It’s dying out a bit, not a lot are doing it anymore, but lolo wants to keep the tradition going, and it’s not really asking for much, is it? Plus, it’s very nice.”

Y/N smiled. “How lovely.”

“It’s performed with the right hand.” Harry waved his right hand in the air in such a way that had a few of their family members waving back at him, he played it off as if that was his intent, clearing his throat as he turned back to Y/N. “You say ‘mano po’ to him to kind of ask permission to do it. I don’t do that anymore ‘cause he knows me and expects me to do it, but I think he’d appreciate you asking first.”

“Okay, nice to know.”

“It’s very important for Filipino children to do this as it shows respect to the elders, but they continue to do it to their elders even when they grow up. They’re kind of asking for a blessing from the elder, it’s usually done when entering their house or seeing them.”

“Oh, so… this is a bit of a big deal?”

Harry huffed, shrugging his shoulders. There was silence for a moment before a quick, “Yes.”

“Grand.”

“Also might want to do it to nanay.”

“Jessa?”

“She once grounded Grace for not doing the mano po when she came home from school.” Harry opened the small gate leading into the farm. “I don’t think she expects you to do it, but I usually do when I see her.”

Y/N took a big breath, for the first time since coming to the farm feeling nervous. “I shook her hand when I first met her. Was that wrong of me?”

“Again,” Harry said, trying to give Y/N a reassuring smile. “She didn’t expect you to do the mano, but I think she’ll appreciate you doing it.”

“Harry!” Jessa called from across the lawn, waving them both over. Beside her sat a very old man in a chair by a table, surrounded by others that Y/N guessed also were family members.

“Hiya,” Harry said as they got closer, taking Jessa’s hand and bringing it to his forehead, touching her so tenderly and with so much respect it took Y/N’s breath away. She now understood why it was such a big deal to Jessa, Harry’s lolo, Harry, and their entire family, not just their Filipino part. As Harry removed her hand from his forehead, she grinned up at him, giving his hand a quick kiss before turning to Y/N.

“When Harry told us you were actually coming I started crying,” Jessa said, beaming so genuinely and widely her eyes were mere slits of pure happiness on her face. “Welcome to the farm!”

“Thank you so much,” Y/N smiled back, offering her hand and before Jessa could reach forward and shake it, Y/N said a soft, “Mano po?”

Jessa didn’t hide her surprise, but she was quick to wipe it off her face and nod once at Y/N. Jessa’s hand was warm and rough, reflecting the many years she’d lived on this earth and the hardships she must’ve gone through. Gently and with as much care as she could muster, Y/N brought Jessa’s knuckles to her forehead and held them there for a moment before lowering it. She understood why it was such an important tradition to their family now; it was respect. Doing so told the elders how much the youngers admired them, Y/N really liked it. Jessa squeezed her hand, gesturing with a pout of her lips to the right where lolo was sitting.

Harry was already taking his lolo’s hand, holding it to his forehead before lowering his lolo’s hand again. Harry gestured behind him, saying something Y/N didn’t catch. She smiled at Harry’s grandpa, offering to take the lolo’s hand and saying another “Mano po” to ask permission first. The lolo held his hand out for Y/N and she took it carefully, pressing the knuckles gently to her forehead for three seconds before lowering it again. The lolo didn’t give Y/N as much of a smile as Jessa had, but Harry had again explained how important this was to him. He’d most likely expected her to do it upon arrival. They shared a look and he blinked once, and for some reason, Y/N understood that was him telling her he appreciated her effort.

“Y/N, you have to try some of the food!” Grace took Y/N’s hand, dragging her away from everyone to get something to eat.

“Sorry, I’ll come over in a bit,” Y/N said to the little group, feeling relieved when Harry followed her and his sister. They entered the house, taking the first open door to the left to the dining room. The walls were a relaxing white, filled with pictures and lamps and art clearly made by kids. In the middle of the room stood the table, filled with food and drinks. And in the middle of it, taking up most of the space and hard not to have your eyes immediately fall to it, laid a pig.

“This,” Grace said, giving Y/N a plate before pointing at the first casserole of food. “This is shanghai lumpia, it’s one of my favourites. It’s egg rolls with sweet chilli sauce. This is sausage rolls, and scotch eggs, and this is palabok-“

“-Gracie,” Harry interrupted, standing on the opposite side of the table from them with a plate in his hand as well, helping himself to some shanghai lumpia. “Take it easy. Let Y/N have a look herself.”

“I’m sorry, I’ll let you look,” Grace said, making Y/N laugh.

“And what’s that?” she asked, pointing to the pig on the table that Grace had forgot to mention.

“Oh! Lechon!” Grace grinned from ear to ear. “It’s my favourite.”

“What is it?”

“It’s a whole roasted pig,” Grace explained. “It’s been cooked over charcoal for 6 hours. The entrails are removed and after seasoning, nanay skews the entire pig on a large bamboo stick and places it over the charcoal. You gotta be super patient to do it, which is why nay is so good at it.”

“The slow process makes the skin of the pig become very crispy and the meat’s always very tasty,” Harry chimed in, smiling at Grace as she nodded enthusiastically.

“A Filipino party is never complete without one. You know it’s a special occasion when nanay serves lechon.”

“So it’s served on special occasions?” Y/N asked, watching as Grace asked Harry to help her to a serving of it. He did, putting it on her plate as an excited squeal erupted from the seven-year-olds mouth. Y/N could see parts of Jessa in the small human before her and it made her very happy.

“Graduations, marriages, birthdays, Christmas, New Year’s, you name it,” Harry said.

“It’s my favourite part of special occasions.” Grace reached for a fork.

“While this all sounds lovely,” Y/N started, looking at the table packed with food. “I’m vegetarian.”

Grace looked to Harry. “Nay is gonna be mad with you.”

“Uhm, I…” He looked at Y/N, mouth opening and closing as he tried to come with an explanation. “I-I… There’s gonna be a brutal murder at noon.”

Grace laughed, finding Harry’s helplessness entertaining. Y/N was aware she should’ve told him before this, but it had completely slipped her mind. The last week had been incredibly interesting trying to convert into vegetarianism. It had been hard, and she’d slipped up a few times, but she really wanted to make an effort. She noticed Harry looking down the table frantically, eyes moving between the different dishes.

“I mean, if there’s no vegetarian food, I’ll just eat-“

“-Tarte!”

All of them fell quiet, watching as Harry blinked a few times, realising he’d just shouted that out loud. Biting his bottom lip and running a hand through his hair, he gestured at the pan nonchalantly.

“The root vegetable tarte,” he said, a little more calmly.

“Oh?”

Grace pointed at it at the other end of the table and Y/N walked over. “Nay makes the best root vegetable tarte. You’ll love it,” Grace smiled, watching as Y/N helped herself to a serving.

“Thank you, Grace.”

Someone shouted something from the front garden, Y/N recognised the voice as Jessa’s and supposed other guests had arrived. She was probably calling for Grace to come say hi.

“Don’t tell your Mum,” Harry hissed as Grace started making her way out.

“She’ll find out eventually.”

“Not from you.”

Grace walked outside and Harry sighed, gesturing for Y/N to follow him into the living room where they could sit and eat in peace. There were some friends of the family in there, but Harry only said a quiet hello before sitting down, shielding Y/N a bit from view. She supposed he did it more so she wouldn’t be bombarded with questions than anything else, she really appreciated that.

The living room faced the back garden; big and open, a few trees every here and there along with a greenhouse. A fireplace stood by the far wall, one sofa placed beside it and a telly before the sofa. There was another sofa opposite the dining room entrance, Harry had made the two of them sit in that one, clearly so they wouldn’t have to chat with the small group huddled behind the television. Again, in the living room as well, pictures of Harry, Grace, and the family were everywhere. Y/N had never seen this many frames on a wall before, or in a house even.

They started eating in silence, but Harry had barely managed to eat one lumpia before someone came over. He put the plate away, smiling up at the two women in their late 30’s it seemed.

“Y/N, my aunts Rachel and Abby. Aunties, this is my girlfriend, Y/N.”

Y/N sat up a bit straighter as Rachel and Abby started talking over one another, high-pitched voices that showed of unapologetic excitement. They reached for her hand to shake it.

“Jessa has told us so much about you,” Abby said.

“Well, not much, anyway, but she’s talked about you. She’s obsessed,” Rachel went on.

“We’re Harry’s Dad’s sisters, by the way.”

“But Harry’s never told us where you’re from! Where are you from?”

“And how did you meet?!”

“Harry hasn’t talked much about you, he likes to be a bit mysterious, don’t you, Haz?” Rachel pinched Harry’s cheek, laughing a little at his grimace.

“No, but seriously, how did you meet? Where was your first date?”

“You’ve kept her a secret for so long, we need to know everything.”

“Auntie Abby, Rachel,” Harry said, chuckling a little as he sighed. “You’re gonna overwhelm her if you keep going.”

“It seems unlikely that a lad that quiet has a loud family, doesn’t it?” Abby asked, nodding in the direction of Harry, but asking Y/N the question. Y/N was about to say something when Rachel interrupted her.

“You look proper posh. Don’t reckon you’ve ever made a flowerbed, have you? Harry,” Rachel said, looking at Harry. “Did you get yourself one of them posh girls from London?”

“Alright.” Harry stood from the sofa. “We’re escaping.” He turned around, offering Y/N his hand. Him doing that took her a bit off guard. They’d never touched each other, and they were just going to start holding hands? She hadn’t felt a jolt of panic till then, she didn’t know why. Gently, she placed her hand in his. It was soft, rough as if he was used to handling mechanics and doing manual labour, but the skin was soft regardless. She didn’t know how he managed the combination.

He helped her up into a standing position, letting go of her hand when she stood right beside him. They left their plates behind as Harry manoeuvred his way around his aunties, making sure Y/N was following him as he made his way up the stairs in the foyer.

“It was nice meeting you,” Y/N called over her shoulder, smiling at them. She hoped it came across as genuine. Harry walked up the stairs and down the corridor to his right, entering the room on the left. He held the door open for her, closing it once they were inside.

He let go of a small groan. “Masters of doing my head in.”

“They were very chatty.”

“One way of putting it.” Harry sat on a single bed and it was then that she noticed they were in a bedroom. The walls were a bright green colour, posters of different Manchester United players and other football things. Y/N didn’t know enough about the sport to say anything definitely, but she knew the Manchester United logo when she saw it. The room was fairly small, only a wardrobe pushed up against the same wall the bed was and a tiny desk under the window. Judging by the picture of a man and a boy on the nightstand, Y/N concluded this had to be Harry’s childhood room. That picture was of him and his father. They looked so much alike it warmed her heart. She wouldn’t pry, but she continued to look around, letting Harry sit in silence on the bed for a minute or two.

“Wondered why you had a bit of a northern accent,” she said, gesturing at the posters. “You’re from Manchester?”

“Mancunian at heart, yeah.”

“Why’d you move down here? Don’t northerners hate the south and southerners?”

Harry smiled a little at that, looking at her. “Depends on what kind of southerner you’re talking about.”

Y/N chuckled, glancing at the posters again. “The posh ones.”

Harry let out a breathy chuckle. “Only those from London.”

Y/N kept her eyes on the posters. “So, why’d you move? If you don’t mind me asking, that is.”

“Hmm,” Harry said, looking out the window at the party going on outside. “Dad wanted us to move. He got the position as a lightkeeper since his Dad died, so we moved down here and on vacation in the Philippines a few years later, he met Jasmine.”

Y/N smiled. “I love that.”

“Yeah.” Harry let that word hang in the air between them for a few seconds. She looked down at him. “Anyway,” Harry got up from the bed, running his hands through his hair. “We need to figure out what we should do. When did we meet?”

A little taken aback by his sudden urge for them to establish their relationship, Y/N stood just glancing at him for a moment. Though she had no idea where to start, she thought nailing down location could be key first. “Have you been to Hampshire?”

“No.”

“Then, to keep some truth in there, we say we met in Newquay since it’s in Cornwall, ‘cause I’ve been there with my family a few years back. We met…” She narrowed her eyes, trying to think of an appropriate time.

“Last summer?” Harry suggested.

“And we’ve been talking on and off since.”

He nodded. “Didn’t get serious till April, since then we’ve kind of been seeing each other.”

Seeing how eager they were at building their backstory, Y/N smiled a little. She remembered something he’d mentioned earlier. “It wasn’t till the Exeter trip in May that we made it official,” she went on. “Did you actually go to Exeter? Do you have the hotel you stayed in?”

“I did and yes.”

“Right, we’ll use that if people ask us about where we stayed while there.” She brought her hand to her chin, looking out the window as she thought for a moment. “What did we do on our trip to Exeter? What kind of activities would two adults in a relationship be doing in Exeter?”

The room fell quiet. Harry cleared his throat. When Y/N turned around, he was scratching at his neck again, looking at the ground. “I mean…” There was a pause. “They do… Do…” Another pause. “New sightseeing.”

“Yeah,” Y/N said, dragging it out as she put her hands on her hips. “I suppose they do. What kind of sightseeing would we be doing?”

He seemed to be caught off guard by that, swallowing thickly. Y/N noticed a slight flare to his cheeks. “Dunno… Depends o-on what you’d wanna do.”

“What you mean?”

“What you’d be up for that early in the relationship.”

“Oh, I would be up for anything.”

Harry looked up at her, wide-eyed. “Any… anything?”

“Yeah, I want to experience everything.”

A whispered, “Everything,” left Harry’s lips.

“Think we’d spend a lot of time sightseeing, especially if we were in a town where there’s loads of places to do it.”

Harry just looked at her.

“Okay,” Y/N smiled, leaning against the desk. “So, we met in Newquay last summer. Where?”

“Oh, uhm-“ Harry’s voice broke towards the end, he cleared his throat quickly. “The beach.”

“Classic. Were we with friends?”

“No.”

“Even better.”

“Neither family knew till around the Exeter trip that we were together?”

“You play off what you’ve told Jessa and Gracie, I’ll say my family knows, but I didn’t tell them till I left just now for St Ives.”

“Why not?”

She waved it off. “Overprotective parents.”

“Okay, uhm…” He looked out the window behind her as he thought for a bit. “How did we start talking on that beach in Newquay?”

Y/N cocked her head to the side, allowing herself time to come up with something good. “I could’ve come up to you and just asked your name, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, alright.”

“I mean this in the least disrespectful way possible, but you seem very shy, no idea if that’s your kind of move.”

He smiled a little. “Shy or not, don’t think I would’ve had the courage to walk up and ask for your name and number.”

She narrowed her eyes a little at him, unsure how to interpret that. But Harry didn’t let her dwell on it for long.

He kneaded his palm with the thumb of his other hand, averted his eyes from hers as he hid his face in the little shadow the room provided. “But yeah, I… I like my own company, I guess.”

“Sorry, daft of me to just put it like that.”

“No, you’re completely right. We’ll go with you coming up to me.” He looked down at his hand. “Why were you in Newquay then? And why was I?”

“I was there with family, but I went to the beach alone that day.”

He nodded a little. “I’ll say it was a lads trip then.”

She smiled at him, feeling herself let out a small sigh of relief. They were getting a pretty good overview of the beginning of their supposed relationship. “And we went on a date in Newquay?”

Harry nodded just as the phone in his pocket started ringing. He sighed, reaching for it with a slight tremor to his hand. He dragged it out and pressed a button before turning back to Y/N.

“Aren’t you gonna answer it?”

“No, no one’s calling.”

“Then-“

She stopped as it rang again. Harry groaned and brought it up to his upper arm before checking it again, sighing as he gestured at the door.

“Need to go do something,” he said.

“Oh.”

He stepped out of the room and disappeared from view, but a second later he poked his head through the doorframe to look back at her.

“You’re not coming?”

That got her moving. She followed him downstairs and back into the kitchen. He opened the fridge, bringing a cartoon of milk out and putting it on the counter before reaching for the cupboard behind Y/N.

A hushed, “Sorry,” left his lips and he was quick to step away from her after retrieving the glass. He poured himself some milk and then chugged the glass. Y/N had just thought it was him getting a sudden urge to have a glass of milk, but as he started pouring himself another glass, she debunked that thought very quickly. She watched him till the second glass was down, not saying a word as she didn’t really know what to say to that. Did he just love milk? And why did they have to stop mid-conversation for him to have two glasses?

He looked at her and when he caught her staring, he let a breathy chuckle leave his lips before glancing at the milk carton again. “Sorry about that. It helps my blood sugar.”

Y/N furrowed her brows some. “Pardon?”

Harry turned his body so his right side was facing her, dragging the arm of his tee shirt up till his shoulders. A white patch was attached to his skin, a bit larger than a fifty pence coin, round and standing in soft contrast to his tanned skin. Y/N stared at it for a few seconds before meeting Harry’s eyes again, not knowing what to make of what he was showing her.

“Diabetic.”

She didn’t know what to say to that.

“Type 1. Had it for…” He trailed off as he thought. “About 12 years now. I think. Time’s a social construct.”

“And milk helps when your blood sugar is low?”

“Yeah, that alarm is to tell me my blood sugar’s getting low or too high. It doesn’t happen all the time, by the way. You’ve just caught me when I haven’t eaten in a bit and my blood sugar’s been low.”

“So, what’s that white thing got to do with you being a diabetic?”

“A needle’s attached to the sensor which constantly checks my blood sugar, and that’s connected to an app on my phone, yeah? So it sends signals when the blood sugar’s extra low or high… Makes sense?”

“Ahh,” Y/N said, nodding. “Got it. I think.”

Harry poured himself another glass before putting the milk back in the fridge. “Suppose I should’ve told you earlier, it’s a pretty big part of my life.” He laughed a bit as if to make light of the situation, but Y/N only shook her head.

“Just ‘cause we’re fake dating doesn’t mean you have to tell me things about yourself that you don’t want strangers to know.”

He held onto his glass of milk, only looking at Y/N for a few seconds as if he was thinking about something. He shook his head a little, bringing his glass to his lips. “I’m not ashamed of it, if that’s what you think.”

“There you are!” Jessa walked through the front door, grinning just as widely as always upon seeing Y/N. She practically skipped into the kitchen and up to the small round table positioned in the middle of it. “Have you introduced her to everyone, Harry?”

“Not yet.”

“Well, people are absolutely dying to meet the woman who has captured our Harry’s heart.” Jessa put a hand over her own heart, looking at Harry with so much love it made Y/N almost tear up a bit. “Everyone’s so happy for the two of you.”

Harry and Y/N looked at one another. Harry’s expression was blank as if he was waiting for her reaction to Jessa’s excited exclamation, so when Y/N scrunched up her nose and smiled at Harry, the dimples in Harry’s cheeks started to show some as well. They didn’t know what else to do or say to Jessa’s statement, but judging by her reaction, it was the correct response. Jessa gave the two an applause no one asked for, but she looked so incredibly happy Y/N didn’t mind.

“Y/N, you have to come to the beach with us on Monday!”

“Nay,” Harry sighed, opening one of the drawers by the counter he was leaning against and pulling out a bar of Dairy Milk. He got himself a row before placing the bar on the counter and then eating his row.

“No, it’ll be amazing. You’re always welcome around here, know that,” Jessa said, that bright beam of hers not once leaving her face once. “Monday we do kamayan on the beach. It’s a summer tradition in the Styles-Flores family!”

Harry looked at Y/N again, swallowing the last of his chocolate. “You don’t… You don’t have to come if you don’t wanna.”

Y/N looked back at him, her smile still present. “Of course I’ll come.”

“Yay!” Jessa clapped again. “I’ll go tell everyone then, they’re going to be ecstatic.” She jogged out the front door then, walking over to a small group of people and saying something that Y/N guessed was the news of Y/N coming along to the beach.

Harry downed the rest of his milk before putting the glass in the dishwasher.

“I almost feel a little bad that we’re going to break up at the end of summer now,” Y/N said, speaking so lowly that only the two of them would hear.

Harry glanced out the window of the kitchen at Jessa. “She’ll be devastated, but I just need to take her on a little road trip and play her some music and she’ll be fine.”

Y/N smiled. “Both Jessa and Gracie love it when you take them on a road trip and they get to listen to music.”

Harry chuckled some. “Guess they do.”

The both of them looked out the window at the garden where both sides of the Flores-Styles family were mingling. Jessa walked up to Harry’s lolo, grinning like always, and Y/N thought she might’ve seen Jessa’s Dad smile back at her. It was hard not to when the woman genuinely glowed and brought happiness with her wherever she went.

Y/N turned back to Harry again, catching him looking into the living room where his aunties were sitting on the sofa he and Y/N had been sitting in earlier. They had his abandoned plate of food between them, eating while they talked about some gossip Y/N couldn’t and wasn’t interested to keep up with.

“Harry,” she said, voice low. He looked back at her. “About… About the diabetes, I-“

“-No, I…” He averted his eyes to the tiled floor of the kitchen, a small furrow appearing between his brows. “Let’s not talk about that right now. My blood sugar will get better in a bit, I’ll stop shaking. We can go outside and chat with some of me family members.”

“You’re shaking?”

He let out what sounded like a short chuckle, holding his hand up so she could see that he was indeed trembling. “Hypoglycaemia. It’s normal.”

“Ahh, yeah, I’ve heard of that.”

“Anyway,” he said. “Let’s not think about that now.”

Y/N inhaled hugely, pushing away from the counter to look at Harry without turning her face. “Shall we mingle like couples do, boyfriend?”

He leaned his head back against the cupboard, running a hand over his face before taking his sunglasses off the top of his head and putting them back on. “We shall, girlfriend.” 

He gestured with his arm for her to walk first and she did, waiting for him to appear beside her once they were outside. He walked her over to where Jessa was standing beside her Dad, saying something to a taller man who stood beside her. His grey hair was slicked back, the shirt and trousers he wore looked worn-down and old, but they looked good on him still.

“Uncle Tom,” Harry said as they approached, a smile on his face as the tall man glanced over. “Hi.”

“Harry! Heard someone say you were here and I saw your car, thought you were hiding from me.” Uncle Tom gave Harry a big hug, patting him on the back a few times before they stepped away from one another. Tom’s eyes settled on Y/N, a smirk on his face as his eyes darted between Harry and her a few times. “So, this is the infamous Y/N.”

“Oh,” Y/N said, waving her hand some as if to dismiss the ‘infamous’ part. “You lot make me feel like a celebrity.”

“Well, when you make our Harry happy, in our eyes you are a celebrity.” Uncle Tom opened his arms, bringing Y/N into a hug she returned quickly, wrapping her arms around him. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d hugged someone. “I’m Tom, Harry’s uncle,” Tom said as he pulled away from Y/N. “I’m not really his uncle, just very good friends with his late Dad.”

“I’ve called him Uncle Tom since forever.”

“It’s very nice to finally meet you, Tom,” Y/N said.

“And I hear,” Tom started, pointing at Jessa over his shoulder, who was still chatting to Harry’s lolo. “You’re coming to the beach next week.”

Harry made a noise. Y/N wasn’t sure what it meant. “Jessa forced her.”

“No, no. Don’t listen to him.” Y/N looked at Harry as he looked at her. She gave him a smile before looking back at Tom. “I want to come; it’ll be an honour.”

“Cheers. It’s one of those trips we take around the beginning of summer every year. The entire family comes, we bring food, and we spend most of the day there. It’s not an extravagant tradition, but it’s ours.”

“It sounds so nice.”

Tom smiled. “The way you’re dressed and judging by how polite and well put-together you are-“

“-Uncle-“

“-I would’ve thought a casual beach day with poor folks down south would sound dull?”

The way Tom said it wasn’t degrading, and Y/N could tell by his smile that he wasn’t saying it to challenge her in any way. With one hand dangling at his side and the other placed on Harry’s shoulder, he looked quite relaxed and not at all like he was trying to interrogate or make Y/N feel inferior. No, he was just wondering. Which was fair, because it seemed a lot of the people in Harry’s family and in St Ives had picked up on the fact Y/N had grown up in a very posh household. The question of why her wealth was so important for them to point out was something she didn’t bother thinking about. It didn’t define her any longer.

“Not dull at all. Maybe even a little refreshing. Don’t get to go to the beach much since I don’t live near one.��

Harry nodded. “We, uh… We actually met when the lads and I visited Newquay last summer. On the beach.”

“You mean you met on the beach?” Tom asked and Harry nodded. Tom glanced at Y/N again. “And you like the beach, Y/N?”

“Love it.”

“Maybe you should move here then. From what I’ve heard, Harry’s left the solitude of his lighthouse a few times already to be with you in town.”

“Only twice,” Harry mumbled, but Tom ignored him.

Y/N only laughed. “A bit too early to think about that. We’ve only been seeing each other for two months now.”

“Nah, this family moves fast, darling. If we fall in love, we fall hard, and we fall fast. Why measure love in hours spent together when it could be measured by the quality of that time, instead of the quantity?” Tom said, patting Harry’s shoulder. “Ain’t that right, mate?”

“No comment.”

Tom grinned. “Alright, alright.”

“I’m gonna take Y/N for a stroll so she can meet the rest, just wanted her to meet you first,” Harry said, looking to Y/N for some kind of confirmation, that she was okay with this.

“Yeah,” she said.

“I’ll see you two Monday, then,” Tom smiled, giving both a wink. He had the kind of old Dad charm that made you feel warm and safe, Y/N understood why Harry considered him family even though he wasn’t.

“Bye.”

“Good to meet you, Tom.”

“And you, Y/N.”

The rest of the afternoon went by very quickly. Harry introduced her to some other friends and family members, and though they asked them questions about their relationship, the two seemed to have already gotten a pretty good overview of what it was. That little chat in Harry’s childhood room had done wonders to get their head in the game. That, and the fact their relationship was so new meant there wasn’t a lot to tell, so some questions the two simply did not know because it wouldn’t be realistic for them to have experienced or thought about that yet.

At one point, Grace asked Y/N to help with her new headband. She didn’t know how to wear it in her hair, and she needed help. The two sat down on a bench beside the barn – which, by the sound and smell of it, housed hens – and Y/N helped Grace. The red and pink looked gorgeous in her black hair, and when she turned around and looked at Y/N once she was done putting it in, she grinned from ear to ear and asked, “Do I look pretty?” Y/N didn’t even have to hesitate before telling Grace she looked absolutely beautiful. The seven-year-old blushed and ran over to Harry who was walking over to them. He picked her up, throwing her small form in the air before bringing her to his hip again.

“Ready to leave?” Harry asked and Y/N said she was.

They said goodbye to everyone, and Jessa brought Y/N’s hand to her lips, kissing it quickly and giving it a warm pat before she let her walk off. Jessa, Grace, Uncle Tom, and Lolo stood by the white tree gate as Y/N and Harry left, watching the mellow yellow Ford van drive off down the gravel road. The sun was about to set, causing the sky overhead to bathe in a soothing orange and purple colour that promised sunny weather the following day. The drive back to the Inn was short and quiet. The silence lingered somewhere between exhaustion and awkwardness, and though Y/N wanted to say something to erase the tension, she couldn’t bring herself to.

When the town started appearing a bit more around them, she felt the phone in her purse vibrate. First she didn’t know what was happening, but then her heart suddenly dropped. She felt hot all over, the wind from the open window didn’t do anything to cool her down. Swallowing thickly, she tried to ignore it. But it was hard when the purse was in her lap. Harder when it was so loud. Even harder when her heartbeat sounded in her ears. As if the quiet in the car hadn’t been loud enough, the sound of her phone vibrating and her not picking up, was louder. There were only three people it could be. She didn’t want to bring her phone out to see which one it was. The ringing stopped after an excruciating 30 seconds, and Y/N closed her eyes. Just ignore it. Just ignore them. It’ll be fine. Ignore it and it’ll go away.

They arrived a minute later, and Y/N was grateful Harry didn’t ask about the phone incident. She stepped out and around the car, the smell of the sea surrounding them once again.

“The beach thing on Monday,” Harry said as Y/N stood by the entrance to the Inn, his window rolled down and orange sunglasses resting in his messy hair. “It’s on Porthmeor Beach. Send me a text when you start walking from here and I’ll walk in your direction, I’ll meet you, yeah?”

She smiled. “Thank you.”

He shook his head once to dismiss that. “Goodnight, Y/N. Cheers for today.”

“It was fun.” She gave him a little wave. “Goodnight.”

He started his engine as Y/N walked inside. Bessie stood by the reception desk sorting through some documents. When Y/N glanced in her direction and met her eyes, the innkeeper quickly glanced away, but the tiny smile on her face gave her away. Once in her room, Y/N checked who had called. It had been a few minutes now and they wouldn’t care to call again tonight, she thought. The ‘Mum’ on her locked screen made something inside her chest ache. She opened her phone to remove the notification but then closed it again a second later. Her Mum had called. After days of no one reaching out, of no one asking her where she was, of no one caring. Her Mum had called.

Changing out of her dress and removing her make-up, Y/N didn’t allow herself to think about anything. The only thing she allowed herself to focus on was a blackness. If you focused on nothing, nothing would hurt you. She didn’t want hurt. She’d had enough of that.

NEXT UPDATE: Sunday, 16 August, 9PM GMT!

A HUGEEE thank you to my amazing and beautiful beta readers! 🌊 @aileenacoustic​​ 🌊 @bopbopstyles​​ 🌊 @fromyourstrulyh​ 🌊 @harrys-creature 🌊 @honeydearly​ 🌊 @summerfeelng​ 🌊 @withallthelove-a​ 🌊 

[accioecho]

Tkem novel 13

Chapter 17 “A joint investigation”

Tae-Eul’s grand plans for the two of them that night consisted of dropping by the shooting range, winning the biggest prize there and walking through the quiet city streets.

The soft stuffed lion was definitely bigger than something that fit the palm of a hand. Tae-Eul successfully hit all seven targets and gave Gon the bulky plush toy.

Tae-Eul’s shooting abilities were incomparable. Gon was no match for her. Sure, when he saw Tae-Eul’s remarkable skills he had first felt a little embarrassed by his poor performance. However that feeling had quickly been replaced by pride.

Gon held the toy against his chest, dimples crinkling, a content expression adorning his face.

“Why do you like that stuffed animal anyway?” Tae-Eul asked when she saw his proud smile.

“Because it’s a lion. It resembles you. Lions are fierce, courageous. And impressive.”

“Ah, I see.”

Her shoulders shook with mirth. They had barely spent half a day together and she had laughed several times already.

Gon put his arm around her. They were walking side by side, like any other regular couple. Spending time together like this… It would be really easy to fall into the quiet comfort of daily life.

As they neared her house, Tae-Eul finally broached the subject she had avoided until then. She  had initially planned to bring up the subject as soon as she saw him but she had also really wanted to spend the precious time they had without any interference. Just her and him.

“Answer me without letting me go.”

“I won’t.”

“I want to ask as soon as I saw you but I was holding back. I waited for you as a detective but also as myself all this time.”

Gon halted his steps and turned to her. Eyes slightly widening, lips forming an uncharacteristic grim line, he grabbed her shoulders. Truth be told, there were a lot of things he had wished to discuss with Tae-Eul as well.

“Has something happened? Were you threatened by someone? Because of me?”

“I guess that means it will happen. That’s why you came.”

So much for a quiet daily life together. The idea of a regular life would have to wait some more.

Their eyes locked. Tae-Eul held Gon’s sharp, worried gaze.

“What is it?” Gon asked.

“Is there a dome stadium named K Stadium in the northern region there? With a capacity of 16,890 seats?”

“How do you know that? Did you look that up too?”

So she was right. Tae-Eul’s face tinged with concern. She had a lot to explain. Her hands slid inside her pocket and pulled out the usb key, the tiny item held tightly between her fingers.

Without waiting any further, Tae-Eul hastily ushered Gon to her place.

Gon, who had mostly hung around Tae-Eul’s now very familiar courtyard, who had never gone further than the Taekwondo Dojang, suddenly found himself stepping into the intimacy of her bedroom. Although he was there for a very specific purpose and not in the context of a romantic date.

Gon briefly looked around his surroundings. Her room was sprinkled with countless pictures from her childhood. A few shelves were pushed against the wall and were filled with books she had probably all read. A multitude of other belongings littered the small space.

Slowly approaching her bed, Gon carefully placed the stuffed lion next to her pillow.

They both sat down by the desk. Tae-Eul turned on her laptop, slid the USB key in its slot and played the audio file.

Gon didn’t need to listen for long. He recognized the news anchor’s voice. This was a piece of broadcast from the Kingdom.

“Is it?” Tae-Eul asked.

“Yes, it’s news from my world. But you found it here?” His mind was sent reeling at the thought of Tae-Eul’s discovery. “Who else knows about this?”

“Just me for now. I can’t really tell anyone about this. Nobody will believe it anyway.”

“What are you thinking of doing?”

“I need to investigate further and figure this out. This was my case, before I even met you.”

He respected, no— liked her bravery. This trait was one of the things that made Tae-Eul inherently her. But just this one time, he wished she was less courageous.

“It could be more dangerous than you think.” Gon swallowed the lump in his throat.

“That’s why I thought about just covering it up. But… if I cover it up, then no one will ever find out about this, since there would be only two people who know about this. Me. And the culprit.”

He was wrong.

She was braver than he thought.

She was brave and amazing.

“The two worlds shouldn’t get mixed up like this. They’re supposed to stay on their respective paths. But the two worlds are already colliding, and I’ve discovered it. So what else can I do? That’s why I decided to investigate. I’m a police officer in the Republic of Korea.”

He couldn’t stop anything then. Changes were already in motion, there was nothing he could do to prevent danger from reaching Tae-Eul.

She was in danger the moment she met him, yet she showed no fear, her sense of justice unwavering.

As the King of a nation, responsibilities weighed heavily on his shoulders. Tae-Eul equally felt the same responsibilities as a government officer of the Republic of Korea.

For a tiny second, Tae-Eul had worried Gon would perhaps hold this against her. She was wrong from the start.

Gon still seemed to be lost in thought, his mind going over the recent events. His posture was stiff, eyes unfocused and looking into the distance. As an attempt to distract him, Tae-Eul forced out a shaky laugh.  

She also shared his sentiments. What were the odds that the one case she had been investigating for the past few weeks turned out to be tied to another universe. This was bigger than simply the two of them. She had no idea what she was getting into and she felt apprehensive by the sheer unknown that lay ahead of them.

Despite all this, there was one thing that she was sure about.

Gon probably didn’t know this.

Yes, she had always been courageous. But in that instant, the reason that gave her strength, the reason why she felt she could be braver was because of him. Because he was by her side.

“So tell me everything you know about this. This is a cooperative operation that only we can do.”

“How goes the order of command?”

“I’m your superior of course. I give the orders here.” Tae-Eul answered without hesitation.

Gon let out a small chuckle and reached into the inner pocket of his jacket. He pulled out a neatly folded enveloppe that contained a copy of Lee Lim’s death certificate and fingerprints confirmation. With shaky fingers, Tae-Eul grabbed the document.

“Lee Lim? That’s…”

“Yes, the traitor. If he’s alive, he’ll be 69 right now. You should find someone who matches his age, blood type and fingerprints. In my world, his body was found the year after he committed treason. But the body… was someone else’s.”

Something was definitely strange. Staring at the file, Tae-Eul sat still, all muscles in her body tensing up. This was beyond their imagination. That a dead person could somehow still be alive.

Tae-Eul knew this was possible though. Because out there stood a gate leading to another universe. A parallel world, where individuals that looked exactly the same as in the Republic existed.

“If Lee Lim is alive… He’s here, using that body’s identity.”

“That’s right. We have to figure out what he’s done here for the past 24 years.”

“I’ll look into it. But until I figure it out, do just 17 things. Stay quiet, don’t draw people’s attention, don’t tell anyone you’re a king, keep Jo Yeong out of trouble, don’t use any guns, contact me whenever you go somewhere. And I’ll tell you the rest when I think of any.”

“I’ll do as you order. Just do two things for me.”

Wondering what he would say, Tae-Eul turned her face towards Gon. He wore an unreadable expression and wouldn’t meet her gaze.

Gon pursed his lips. He hesitated for a moment, and then finally spoke his mind.

“Don’t tell me not to come. And don’t tell me not to leave.”

“…”

“I have to go back sometimes, and when I do, I want to come back soon. Whichever it is, if you tell me not to come or leave, I don’t think I’ll be able to do anything.”

Even in normal circumstances, people easily got tired of their partner when they stayed apart for a short time. In their case, a whole universe stood between the two of them, like a wall standing firm and tall. Gon deeply hoped Tae-Eul wouldn’t experience any difficulties or become weary.

This was the very first time he felt this way. He knew this was selfish of him. In all his life as a King, ever since he was born, he never once harbored any selfish interests.

“So I’m asking you not to get exhausted. I feel like a lousy man after saying that. Am I?”

Still staring at Gon, Tae-Eul slightly nodded.

“I’m confused about which part you were nodding to.”

Tae-Eul let out a small giggle and started tidying up the desk. There was a time not so long ago when Tae-Eul thought she would never understand him. That was when he first came to the Republic, babbling about parallel universes, quantum mechanics and what not. She thought he was just a crazy guy and they would never be on the same page.

Before she knew it, she found herself understanding Gon’s way of thinking and perfectly being able to read his feelings. Because she was the same.

“You should go now. Yeong must be sick with worry since he doesn’t know where you are. He must be waiting for you.”

“Why would you think Yeong doesn’t know where I am?”

Tae-Eul abruptly stood up and went to the window to look outside. Seeing the empty courtyard, she looked around her surroundings.

“He’s following us around here too?”

“I guess I’ve made you curious. I’ll be off now.”

“There’s something else I’m curious about. Am I really not in your world?”

Gon who was about to open her bedroom’s door, stopped in his tracks.

“Eun-Sup and Jo Yeong. Nari and that palace worker. Even this person has the same face. Do I really not exist there?”

Gon stood still, unable to confirm or deny. His silence was answer enough.

“I do, don’t I?” Tae-Eul didn’t know what to think. This felt strange.

“I wanted to wait until I was sure before I told you. But it looks like it. There seems to be a person that looks like you, yes.”

Long after Gon was gone, Tae-Eul couldn’t shake the image of her double existing somewhere in another world.

—

“Your Majesty. You must return to the palace. I can’t protect you here, your Majesty. What is this place, and how long have you been coming here? Your Majesty, we don’t have a life here.”

Unable to hold back, Yeong let out all the things he’d been thinking about but couldn’t say aloud when they were with Tae-Eul and Eun-Sup.  

Always looking out for him. Always defending his best interests. Gon was proud of him.

And he was about to relieve him of these daunting, heavy responsibilities.

Ever since their first meeting when Gon was eight years old, not once did Yeong disappoint or upset him. Yeong had become his most loyal subject, his best friend, his brother.

He felt guilty and sorry. But he was the only person who could carry out the task he was about to give him.

“You’ve endured a lot, Captain Jo. Yeong-ah. I can’t leave the palace permanently or give up coming here altogether. So you have to help me.”

[buckeverlasting]

Just for Us | Ch. 1: Just for Steve

Series pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes

Summary: Steve Rogers only meant to share you with his best friend Bucky Barnes just once, but now all three of you have to learn the hardest lesson together: sex does not always equal love, and love does not always equal kindness. (College AU)

A/N: After a two year hiatus from this series, I decided to take it in a different direction, so I’ve made some changes! 

Word count: 2,489

Series warnings: explicit sexual content, alcohol, cheating, dubcon, daddy kink, angst

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

You noticed him immediately. Steve Rogers. It was hard to miss the bearded, burly man, standing a few inches above everyone else in a sea of people. Plus, you had spent many hours staring at him during that awful 8am lecture you have together. Somehow, through the crowd, he caught you staring and smiled at you. You looked away, blushing furiously, and took a sip from your red Solo cup. God, what a beautiful man, you thought.

Now back to the task at hand: finding the bathroom and then finding your friends in this crowded house. You’d never been to a house party off campus before, but when your friends insisted and also mentioned that a certain Steve Rogers was throwing said party, you caved quite easily.

You had bumped into him after the lecture a couple weeks ago. Literally. As the class was making its exodus from the hall, you dropped your phone, and when you stopped to pick it up, Steve walked right into your butt, as you were bending down. He had been chatting with a friend and didn’t see you. He knocked you off balance but actually caught you in his arms before you hit the floor and pulled you back up onto your feet.

“I’m so sorry,” you said, avoiding his eyes.

“I’m sorry I didn’t see you there,” he said. “Are you okay?”

“No, I’m fine. I mean, yes, I’m okay,” you said. “Thanks for catching me.” You laughed awkwardly, as you straightened out your shirt.

“No problem.” He stooped down to grab your phone and handed it to you.

“Thanks!” You scampered off before you could do or say anything too embarrassing in your flustered state.

You couldn’t stop thinking about that day. Whenever you remembered him catching you, how he quickly wrapped his arms around you, you sort of tingled all over. After lectures, you’d try to catch his eye, but he was usually surrounded by a group of friends.

And here you were, finally catching his eye but dashing off to find the bathroom instead of trying to talk to him. You squeezed and shoved your way through the living room to the hall and headed up the stairs. You were certain you’d find a bathroom there, and sure enough, you did. There was a short line outside, and you silently drank and scrolled through your phone while waiting. Your friends were wondering where you were. You texted them that you’re waiting for the bathroom but that you’d meet them downstairs in a little bit.

By the time it was your turn, you had finished your drink and tossed it in the overflowing trash can next to the sink. You locked the door behind you. Finally, the thumping bass subsided a little and you were left alone with your thoughts. God, he’s a beautiful man, you thought again. You wondered absentmindedly what that face would look like between your legs. You shook your head. How much had you had to drink?

When you stepped out of the bathroom, Steve Rogers was standing right there. He wore slim fitting jeans and a soft, clingy vintage T-shirt, which showed the toned bulk of his shoulders and chest.

“Hey, I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced.” He held out a massive hand. “I’m Steve.”

“I’m Y/N,” you said, shaking his hand. “Thanks for throwing this party.”

“No problem. Hey, I see your hands are empty,” he said. “Can I get you a drink?”

“What?” You couldn’t quite hear him over the music.

He stepped closer to you. You could feel the warmth coming off his body. He smelled clean, like a combination of soap and fresh air.

He bent over a little and spoke directly in your ear. “I asked if I could get you a drink.”

“That would be great,” you said back into his ear.

“Great! Let’s go.” He put his hand to the small of your back and led you down the hall, away from the stairs. Just like when he caught you, your senses came alive at his touch.

“Where are we going?” you asked. “I thought the drinks are downstairs.”

“I put the good stuff in my room, so no one would take it.”

“Oh, what kind of good stuff?” you asked.

“Some whiskey.” He looked over his shoulder at you. He was grinning, and you couldn’t help but grin back. You’d never tried whiskey, but how bad could it be? It couldn’t be worse than tequila.

He led you into the room at the end of a long hall. It was a sizable bedroom, the wall to the right lined with bookshelves and the wall opposite featured a desk between two large windows. In the middle of the wall opposite the door, was a queen-size, neatly made and topped with a fluffy quilt. The room was surprisingly neat and minimally decorated. Only a couple band and movie posters hung on the walls.

“Have a seat,” he said, gesturing to the whole room. “I’m just going to grab this.” He took down a bottle of Maker’s Mark and two small glasses from his bookshelf.

You took a seat at his desk and noted his neat stacks of books and notebooks. You turned around and watched him pour a glass. He handed you a small glass about a third of the way full of whiskey. “You can sip it or knock it back,” he said. He poured another and drank his simply by tossing his head back.

You took a sip of yours, and you felt an immediate burning in your throat. Warmth radiated throughout your body. It tasted kind of like the way wood smoke smells.

“It’s not bad,” you say. “It burns a little, but it’s not bad.”

“Good.” His blue eyes shone.

You felt your phone buzz in your pocket and ignored it. It was probably your friends wondering where you were. You were busy, and they’d totally understand later when you told them that Steve Rogers invited you to his room. Had they not helped you pick out this outfit you were wearing? Had they not lent you jewelry and shoes? You knew you were going to see him, and this is exactly what you wanted.

Just then someone flung open the door. “Steve, where’d you go?” Someone stepped in the room and looked around. His eyes found Steve and then you. He looked at Steve again, then back at you, and his jaw dropped. “I’m sorry!” he said. “I didn’t mean to…”

You recognized him as one of the guys always hanging around Steve after class. Bucky Barnes.

“It’s okay, Bucky.” Steve poured himself another glass of whiskey. “But I’m not sharing any of this with you.”

“I’m just gonna go.” Bucky closed the door, leaving the two of you alone again.

Steve sat down on the bed and smiled at you. He patted the bed next to him. This was an invitation you could not refuse. You got up from the desk chair and made your way to the bed. You sat down next to him, and the mattress dipped under your collective weight, letting gravity draw you closer together. Your thighs brushed.

Steve took the glass out of your hand and placed both on his nightstand.

“You can go if you want to. You’re free to walk out that door, and there will be no hard feelings,” he said steadily. “But if you stay, I want to make sure you know what you’re agreeing to.”

You nodded slowly. “What would I be agreeing to exactly?”

“I will utterly adore every inch of your body—and I really mean every inch—and make you feel amazing,” he said, “but you have to call me ‘Daddy.’”

This knocked the wind right out of you. You managed one word. “Okay.”

“So, you agree to this?” he asked.

You nodded. “Yes.”

Steve got up and locked the door. “No one will be bothering us again.” He sat back down, and the bed dipped, causing you to bump your shoulder into his arm. He crooked one finger and lifted your chin. “You’re really beautiful.” 

“Thank you, Steve.” You smiled.

“Are you going to be a good girl for me?” he asked.

“Of course.”

“Of course, what?”

“Of course, Daddy.”

He leaned in and kissed you on the lips, delicately. Suddenly your skin tingled all over again. He pulled back and looked into your eyes. “Are you ready?”

You nodded and reached up behind his head to pull him closer to you. You kissed him deeply, opening your mouth and letting him flick his tongue against yours. He broke the kiss again and kissed your cheek, your jaw, and a line down your neck. Then he nibbled your ear. You closed your eyes. You felt his hands run down your sides and pull up the hem of your shirt. You lifted your arms, so he could pull the shirt off you. He continued to gently suck the sensitive skin of your neck while unbuttoning your pants and reaching into your underwear. You took the hint and pulled a way for a moment to strip down. You immediately hopped under the covers of his bed.

“Why are you hiding, beautiful?” he asked.

“Because I’m cold.” You pulled the fluffy quilt up to your chin.

“I can keep you warm,” he said. “Hang on.” He stripped quickly, throwing all his clothes all over the room. He stood next to the bed, naked, and half erect. “Get me hard first,” he said.

You scooted to the edge of the bed, still under the covers, and reached out a hand and stroked him up and down the shaft. You felt him growing a little harder. He closed his eyes. “Can you use your mouth?” he asked.

“Mm-hm,” you said.

He took a step closer to the bed, bringing himself right up to your face. You grasped his cock at the base and took the tip in your mouth. You used your tongue to play with the head. Steve groaned. “That feels amazing,” he said.

You took more of him into your mouth, bobbing your head and moaning while you sucked. He reached down and stroked your hair gently. “You’ve been such a good girl,” he said.

You released his cock from your mouth with a wet “pop.” “Thank you,” you said.

“It’s your turn now.” He flipped back the bedcovers, uncovering your naked body. He crawled onto the bed and positioned his head between your legs. “Are you ready?” he asked.

You bit your lip and nodded.

Sensations exploded from your clit as he alternated sucking and swiping with his tongue. He glided two fingers in and out of you as he lapped at you. You were writhing on the bed. He continued to swirl his tongue and nip at the insides of your thighs while you balled the sheets up in your fists.

“That’s a really good girl,” he said quietly.

You almost whimpered when he stopped. You looked up at him. He was absentmindedly wiping his mouth and beard with a corner of the sheet. “You’re very wet,” he said. “Here.” He stuck a single finger inside you and curled it, dragging it along on its way out, making you moan. “Open up.” He popped the glistening finger in your mouth, and you tasted yourself. You looked up at him and sucked eagerly, causing him to let out a low growl.

“Are you ready? You still want to do this?” he asked.

“Yes.” 

“Yes, what?” He reached into his nightstand drawer and pulled out a condom. Quickly, he unwrapped it and unrolled it down the impressive length of his cock.

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Good girl.” He crawled up between your legs, shouldering your knees apart. You let your legs fall back, as he positioned himself on top of you. He reached down to align himself with your pussy. “God, you’re so wet. I’m going to destroy that sweet little pussy.”

With one big thrust, he was all the way inside you. It burned and felt like it was tearing you in two, but feeling so full also felt amazing. You moaned. “You like that, baby girl? You like the way my cock feels inside you?”

“Yes, Daddy,” you said. “Fuck me, please.”

He pumped at different paces, sometimes brutally fast and other times he fucked you in long, slow, and sensuous strokes. He alternated from savage to tender, savage to tender. You reached up and dug your nails into his back, digging in harder when he fucked you harder and running your hands up and down his toned sides when he was gentle.

He leaned back a bit, so he could reach down and rub your clit with his thumb while thrusting his hips against you. You threw your head back, and felt a white-hot heat radiating from your core.

“Cum for me, like a good girl.” His voice was low and gravelly as he continued to stroke your clit in little circles.

“Yes, Daddy,” you said breathlessly, which made him moan. “I’m going to cum.” You gasped as your orgasm took over your body and as your pussy spasmed around his cock. He fucked you through your orgasm, triggering more spasms.

“That feels amazing,” he said. “I’m gonna cum.” He grunted and made a few last powerful thrusts as he came inside you. He pulled out quickly and removed the condom. He upended it and let his cum spill onto your tummy. He swiped up some on one finger and brought it to your mouth. “Want to taste?”

You opened your mouth, and he inserted his finger. You licked it clean and swallowed his cum, making him growl again.

“That’s a really good girl,” he said. He reached for the box of tissues on his nightstand and started to clean you up. First, he wiped the cum off your belly, and then he wiped between your legs.

“Thank you,” you said

Then he spooned you. He actually shifted you onto your side and nestled your naked bodies together. He reached down and pulled the covers over you both.

“How’s that?” he asked.

“Really nice,” you said. “Really, really nice.”

“Do you feel good?” he asked.

“I feel amazing,” you said.

“Good,” he said. He paused for a moment. “I have a question.”

“Sure, what is it?”

His voice was soft, and you could almost feel his lips on your earlobe. “Do you want to get coffee after class next week?” he asked.

You couldn’t help but laugh. “You just ate my pussy,” you said. “I think we can get coffee. I don’t know how I feel about everyone hearing me call you Daddy, though.”

“That’s just in the bedroom,” he said. “That’s just for us.”

“I was only joking,” you said. “I know it is.”

He squeezed you tight to his chest. “Good.”

Read the next chapter

[ejzah]

Could you do a fanfic where kensi has to go undercover as a model?

A/N: This prompt was sent a very long time ago. I apologize for it taking so long. This is set in season 4 and may deviate a little from canon.

***

Top Model

***

“This is the best day ever,” Deeks muttered, unable to hide his wide grin. He was situated at the end of a long runway next to several other, actual photographers who snapped rapid fire pictures of the models walking past.

He peered through the viewfinder of his camera, taking several pictures as a heavy beat vibrated through the room and a woman in a mustard yellow dress with a deep slit and feathers decorating the bodice stopped directly in front of him and gave him a sultry stare.

“See something you like?” Kensi asked, sarcasm filling her voice. She was somewhere backstage, waiting for her own turn to catwalk down the runway. He wasn’t sure what strings Hetty had pulled to get his and Kensi’s aliases, Bobby Harper and Rosa Black gigs at a fairly high profile fashion show 12 hours before the event started, but he was infinitely grateful.

Not only did he get to wear a shirt that cost more than his monthly salary (a nice change from all the utility uniforms of late), but he would also get to see Kensi live out her ANTM dreams. He wasn’t sure which of them was more excited.

“Mm, not really my type.” His camera whirred again, capturing the daring stance of a read-headed model in a deep green dress. Kensi made a rude noise, not exactly fitting with her current persona.

“I thought any woman that doesn’t run away is your type.” He grinned again, holding back a chuckle, reminding himself that it would look a little strange if he started laughing at nothing. “Ooh, what about the leggy brunette headed your way?” Kensi waited for the model to stop in front of him and then added. “Her name’s Jasmine and she likes long walks on the beach.”

“She sounds delightful, but still not my type,” Deeks muttered. He had a different leggy brunette in mind who would probably gut punch him if he ever dared to call her “leggy”.

He took several pictures on auto pilot, thankful that no one would actually be scrutinizing them for quality. His photography skills were satisfactory for crime scenes, but probably not quite magazine worthy. “Did you see anything interesting back stage?”

“Other than two models getting into a fight over a pair of Louis Vuitton shoes?” Kensi said. “Not really. There was too much chaos to focus on one thing.”

“Now that I would have loved to see.”

“Creep.” He grinned again at her mild comment. Two more models stalked by, giving their own variation of the same overly dramatic stance. Lowering his camera for a moment, he quickly swept the room to see if anyone was giving particular notice to a single model.

One of them was suspected of selling sensitive information to a foreign government. Nell and Eric had traced the sales of similar information back to several other modeling events over the past two months. They were still trying to figure out how their suspects, mostly in their early twenties and without criminal records, had attained classified information.

Sam and Callen were in the audience, keeping an eye out for their buyer. So far they’d been pretty silent though.

Three more models emerged from either side of the runway amid a cloud of manufactured mist. As the fog cleared, Kensi walked out, and the beat of his heart suddenly matched the rhythm of the music. She wore a dark blue evening gown, the plunging bodice clinging to her torso until it reached her waist and flowed down into several full layers of sheer material. Half her hair was swept up to the side with the rest fell around her shoulders in soft curls.

She looked absolutely stunning, and more importantly, confident. There wasn’t even a moment of hesitation as she strutted down the runway. As she drew closer to the end, Deeks heard a rush of whispers from the other photographers, wondering who she was.

Kensi paused in front of the them, her skirts swirling around her dramatically as she stopped. She glanced to him, her eyes making contact for the briefest of seconds. In that moment see saw a hint of uncertainty and then pride as the whispers continued and a dozen cameras flashed around her. She gave an extra twirl before she headed back down the runway.

One of the photographers said something about winning an award for her pictures and Deeks smothered a smirk. Kensi would get a kick out of that. To bad said pictures would never see the light of day.

“Guys, I just saw one of the models, Jenna Martinez, talking to a guy. He looked about 50 years old with gray hair and a dark blue suit,” Kensi said a few minutes later, sounding a little breathless. “I’m sending you a picture.”

“Did you see what he gave her?” Sam asked. “Coulda been a lot of things. Drugs, money in exchange for other services...”

“No, all I could see was a white envelope. But models aren’t supposed to leave styling area in between walks without permission though. If someone caught her, she could risk getting kicked out of the show. That seems pretty suspicious to me.”

“Kens, check it out,” Callen decided. “Deeks, figure out a way to get out and back her up. We’ll see if we can find Kensi’s mystery man.”

“Got it. Deeks I’ll be back where they store the extra wardrobe.”

Deeks sat through two more cycles of models, conscious they had limited time before the area would be swarming with with even more people once the show had finished. He took the opportunity to slip away when one of the models took an unfortunate fall after tripping over the train of her dress.

Surprisingly, no one questioned why he was wandering around back stage. The stylists and make up people seemed completely consumed with making sure the show stayed on track to wonder about his motives.

“Kens,” he whispered when he found the storage area empty.

“Right here,” she answered, appearing from one of the many closets, still dressed in the evening gown. When she noticed his raised eyebrow, she added. “I didn’t have time to change.”

They passed through a couple dim hallways, taking a less direct route to the locker area to avoid running into anyone.

“You watch the door.” Kensi headed to the second row of lockers, sinking to a graceful crouch.

“Did you really bring your lock picking kit with you?” he asked, glancing through a crack in the door as she pulled something from the top of her dress.

“Nope, bobby pin,” she said holding it up with a smirk before she pried it open with her teeth.

“How very resourceful of you, Nancy Drew.” He nodded in appreciation as she inserted the straightened end into the keyhole.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” After a minute or so of wiggling it around,

she swore under her breath. “Damn it. It’s like there’s rust or something stuck in here and it doesn’t want to give.”

“How much longer do you think it will take?” he asked, checking the door again. There was no one in the vicinity so he left his watch and crouched beside her.

“I don’t know, Deeks!” Kensi snapped, blowing out a long breath. She glanced at him a little sheepishly as she removed the pin and started over again. “Sorry. It’s just that this usually takes me about 10 seconds.”

“Don’t worry about it. You wouldn’t happen to have any WD-40 tucked in there too?” He nodded to her chest and she slanted him a wry look, but didn’t look too annoyed.

“Right next to my wrench and screwdriver. I think-“

“Wait,” Deeks interrupted, making a hushing sound. “I think someone’s coming.” He rushed back to the door as quietly as he could. He couldn’t see anyone yet, but he heard voices and footsteps, drawing closer every second. “Kens, someone’s coming. We have to get out of here.”

“Just one more minute,” she insisted. “ I think I almost got it.” The lock made an audible click and Deeks winced at the loud creak as Kensi swung the locker door open and pulled out a Dior purse and a cloth shoulder bag.

“Kens-“ Ignoring his warning, she dumped the contents of both bags onto the floor and a collection of makeup and clothes fell out along with a medium sized envelope. Kensi snatched it up, tossing it in his direction and started stuffing the rest of the things back in the locker, not taking time to worry about neatness.

Heart pounding, he shoved the envelope in the inside of his pocket, glancing around for somewhere to hide. Two men were walking down the hallway, making a beeline for the locker room.

“Ok, let’s go,” she whispered, reaching for his hand as she stood up.

“No time,” he hissed back, tugging her further into the room. Kensi made a surprised sound when he pushed her up against the lockers and added, “Please don’t hit me.”

She didn’t have time to respond before he dipped his head and pressed his lips to hers.

***

A/N: I clearly do not know much about modeling or fashion shows so I went with what I do know fairly well. Densi. Hope you enjoyed and there will be a part 2.

Thanks for the the prompt anon!

[dw-writes]

Trektober 2020 - Day 31: Holiday Celebration - Leonard McCoy x GN! Reader

AT LEAST I GOT SOMETHING FOR THE LAST DAY OF THE MONTH!!! I plan to go back and go some more prompts for this, so please be on the look out!! :D

@outside-the-government some fun halloween bones for you!

Trektober Day 3 - In Uniform (Bones x Reader) || Trektober Day 4 - Aliens Made Them Do It (Bones x Reader) || Trekober Day 5 - Pining (Bones x Reader) || Trektober Day 6 - Captain’s Chair (Jim Kirk x Reader) || Trektober Day 7 - Soulmate AU + Interspecies Relationship (Bones x Reader) || Trektober Day 9 - Sex Pollen (Jim Kirk x Reader) || Trektober Day 10 - Historical AU (James Kirk and Leonard McCoy) || Trektober Day 11 - Stars (Leonard McCoy x Reader) || Trektober Day 15 - Shuttle Crash (Leonard McCoy x Reader) || Trektober Day 18 - Waiting by Bio Bed (Leonard McCoy x Reader) || Trektober Day 31 - Holiday Celebration (Leonard McCoy x Reader)

You loved shore leave but you especially love shore leave at Starbases, when there were people from Earth who celebrated Earth holidays and explained them to other cultures. It really made you feel like you were home again and brightened your moods. This time, shore leave managed to overlap with Halloween and, well, between you and Jim, you had convinced almost the entire crew of the Enterprise to celebrate in one way or another while enjoying the break.

When you had said celebration, you meant costumes and enjoying some candy from around the universe and maybe convincing Spock to finally watch a horror movie or two. Jim Kirk, though, stopped listening after ‘costumes’ and started formulating a plan of his own for the spooky special day, and declined to reply to any of your questions. Instead, the day before Halloween, as you and Uhura coordinated your costumes, Jim knocked on the door and entered before you could say he could come in. He carried a bag with him.

“Hey, you remember that really, really old Earth show we watched a couple of weeks ago?” he asked as he leaned against your dresser. You paused.

“Which one?” you asked, “We watched a lot of them.”

Jim rolled his hand in front of him, stumbling over his words, “The old one! With the girl in the skirt and she fights and there’s gods—”

“Oh.” You nodded. “Yeah, I remember. Why?”

“Didn’t that blonde guy look a lot like Bones?” he asked as he crossed his arms.

You stared at him, the grip on your costume loosening the longer you watched him. Uhura was the one that groaned, though, and shot Jim a look. “Doctor McCoy doesn’t want to dress up for the party.”

Jim, to his credit, merely shrugged. “I wasn’t saying he had to! Just pointing something out.”

You should have taken that as a sign.

You adjusted the sleeves of your Medical blue sweater, smiling as you helped Uhura tie her hair back, making sure that the strands didn’t catch on the carefully crafted Vulcan ears she wore. “You think he’ll like it?” she asked for the tenth time, smoothing her hands over the blue Science top she wore. You turned her around and stared at her, any mirth forced from your face.

“Now you listen here,” you said, trying your hardest to imitate your favorite doctor’s southern twang. Nyota grinned. “Mr. Spock’s gonna think you’re the bee’s knees.”

“McCoy wouldn’t say that,” she pointed out.

You rolled your eyes. “Bones also wouldn’t say that Spock will find you very cute, but I would,” you replied. She touched her ears again and ducked her head. It was then that Jim shot through the small crowd of Enterprise crew members, looking every bit a Prince Charming in his fitted pants and nice waistcoat. He was panting, and his hair was mused from running through the halls of the hotel, but the grin he wore seemed to grow when he finally found you.

“You’re gonna love this,” he wheezed.

“JIM!” the shout rang out over the crowd, drawing the attention of everyone towards the door of the small dining hall.

“Oh, Jim,” Uhura whispered, “What did you do?”

“I did everyone a favor,” he replied. Leonard finally appeared in the doorway, chest heaving with angry pants. His hair was blonde – a blonde that did not look natural, but chemical. Jim leaned over your shoulder as he ducked behind you. “Put, uh,” he cleared his throat and ducked further behind you, “Put peroxide in his conditioner, since he leaves that in forever.” He slapped your back. “Told you he looked like that guy.”

“Cupid,” you replied as you put all the pieces together. The bag. The question. Now this. Leonard’s eyes searched every face as he scanned the room, working his jaw from side to side. He had the wings – something that was probably forced onto him by Jim, or begrudgingly agreed to – and you were a little disappointed that he wasn’t completely shirtless but instead wore a white tunic. His eyes locked onto your face and he stilled for a moment.

He had to recognize who you were dressed as. He had to!

Then his eyes drifted past you to the captain that hid behind your shoulders, and he snarled out an angry, “Jim,” before stalking across the room.

The captain gently shoved you towards the seething CMO and bolted. Leonard caught you and almost stumbled. He glanced down at you, and his fingers pressed into your shoulders. A smile softened the anger on his face. “Is that my shirt?” he asked.

You tugged at the hem and grinned. “Well, I can’t be the CMO without it,” you pointed out. You tilted your head. “Don’t think Halloween is the right day for Cupid,” you teased.

Leonard growled. “Dammit, I told Jim I didn’t want to dress up, least of all like an angel.”

You poked his chest. “To be fair, at least he gave you a shirt,” you said, shrugging, “Cupid – who is a god, mind you – is shirtless in the source material.” Your smile grew. “You pull it off nicely,” you added.

His face tinted. He carded a hand through his hair, then sighed, and grumbled, “It’s gonna take forever for my hair to grow out.” You patted his chest and turned him around, carefully leading him through the crowd towards the drink table. You’d have to thank Jim later – Leonard did look VERY good.

[bananaofswifts]

Taylor Swift’s ‘Folklore’: Album Review

It’s hard to remember any contemporary pop superstar that has indulged in a more serious, or successful, act of sonic palette cleansing than Swift has with her eighth album, a highly subdued but rich affair written and recorded in quarantine conditions.

While most of us spent the last four months putting on some variation of “the quarantine 15,” Taylor Swift has been secretly working on the “Folklore” 16. Sprung Thursday night with less than a day’s notice, her eighth album is a fully rounded collection of songs that sounds like it was years in the interactive making, not the product of a quarter-year’s worth of file-sharing from splendid isolation. Mind you, the words “pandemic hero” should probably be reserved for actual frontline workers and not topline artistes. But there’s a bit of Rosie the Riveter spirit in how Swift has become the first major pop artist to deliver a first-rank album that went from germination to being completely locked down in the midst of a national lockdown.

The themes and tone of “Folklore,” though, are a little less “We can do it!” and a little more “Can we do it?” Because this new collection is Swift’s most overtly contemplative — as opposed to covertly reflective — album since the fan favorite “Red.” Actually, that’s an understatement. “Red” seems like a Chainsmokers album compared to the wholly banger-free “Folklore,” which lives up to the first half of its title by divesting itself of any lingering traces of Max Martin-ized dance-pop and presenting Swift, afresh, as your favorite new indie-electro-folk/chamber-pop balladeer. For fans that relished these undertones of Swift’s in the past, it will come as a side of her they know and love all too well. For anyone who still has last year’s “You Need to Calm Down” primarily in mind, it will come as a jolting act of manual downshifting into actually calming down. At least this one won’t require an album-length Ryan Adams remake to convince anyone that there’s songwriting there. The best comparison might be to take “Clean,” the unrepresentative denouement of “1989,” and… imagine a whole album of that. Really, it’s hard to remember any pop star in our lifetimes that has indulged in a more serious act of sonic palette cleansing.

The tone of this release won’t come as a midnight shock to anyone who took spoilers from the announcement earlier in the day that a majority of the tracks were co-written with and produced by the National’s Aaron Dessner, or that the man replacing Panic! at the Disco’s Brendon Urie as this album’s lone duet partner is Bon Iver. No matter how much credit you may have given Swift in the past for thinking and working outside of her box, a startled laugh may have been in order for just how unexpected these names felt on the bingo card of musical dignitaries you expected to find the woman who just put out “Me!” working with next. But her creative intuition hasn’t led her into an oil-and-water collaboration yet. Dessner turns out to be an ideal partner, with as much virtuosic, multi-instrumental know-how (particularly useful in a pandemic) as the most favored writer-producer on last year’s “Lover” album, Jack Antonoff.

He, too, is present and accounted for on “Folklore,” to a slightly lesser extent, and together Antonoff and Dessner make for a surprisingly well-matched support-staff tag team. Swift’s collabs with the National’s MVP clearly set the tone for the project, with a lot of fingerpicking, real strings, mellow drum programming and Mellotrons. You can sense Antonoff, in the songs he did with Swift, working to meet the mood and style of what Dessner had done or would be doing with her, and bringing out his own lesser-known acoustic and lightly orchestrated side. As good of a mesh as the album is, though, it’s usually not too hard to figure out who worked on which song — Dessner’s contributions often feel like nearly neo-classical piano or guitar riffs that Swift toplined over, while Antonoff works a little more toward buttressing slightly more familiar sounding pop melodies of Swift’s, dressed up or down to meet the more somber-sounding occasion.

For some fans, it might take a couple of spins around the block with this very different model to become re-accustomed to how there’s still the same power under the hood here. And that’s really all Swift, whose genius for conversational melodies and knack for giving every chorus a telling new twist every time around remain unmistakable trademarks. Thematically, it’s a bit more of a hodgepodge than more clearly autobiographical albums like “Lover” and “Reputation” before it have been. Swift has always described her albums as being like diaries of a certain period of time, and a few songs here obviously fit that bill, as continuations of the newfound contentment she explored in the last album and a half. But there’s also a higher degree of fictionalization than perhaps she’s gone for in the past, including what she’s described as a trilogy of songs revolving around a high school love triangle. The fact that she refers to herself, by name, as “James” in the song “Betty” is a good indicator that not everything here is ripped from today’s headlines or diary entries.

But, hell, some of it sure is. Anyone looking for lyrical Easter eggs to confirm that Swift still draws from her own life will be particularly pleased by the song “Invisible String,” a sort of “bless the broken roads that led me to you” type song that finds fulfillment in a current partner who once wore a teal shirt while working as a young man in a yogurt shop, even as Swift was dreaming of the perfect romance hanging out in Nashville’s Centennial Park. (A quick Google search reveals that, yes, Joe Alwyn was once an essential worker in London’s fro-yo industry.) There’s also a sly bit of self-referencing as Swift follows this golden thread that fatefully linked them: “Bad was the blood of the song in the cab on your first trip to L.A.,” she sings. The “dive bar” that was first established as the scene of a meet-cute two albums ago makes a reappearance in this song, too.

As for actual bad blood? It barely features into “Folklore,” in any substantial, true-life-details way, counter to her reputation for writing lyrics that are better than revenge. But when it does, woe unto he who has crossed the T’s and dotted the I’s on a contract that Swift feels was a double-cross. At least, we can strongly suspect what or who the actual subject is of “Mad Woman,” this album’s one real moment of vituperation. “What did you think I’d say to that?” Swift sings in the opening lines. “Does a scorpion sting when fighting back? / They strike to kill / And you know I will.” Soon, she’s adding gas to the fire: “Now I breathe flames each time I talk / My cannons all firing at your yacht / They say ‘move on’ / But you know I won’t / … women like hunting witches, too.” A coup de gras is delivered: “It’s obvious that wanting me dead has really brought you two together.” It’s a message song, and the message is: Swift still really wants her masters back, in 2020. And is really still going to want them back in 2021, 2022 and 2023, too. Whether or not the neighbors of the exec or execs she is imagining really mouth the words “f— you” when these nemeses pull up in their respective driveways may be a matter of projection, but if Swift has a good time imagining it, many of her fans will too.

(A second such reference may be found in the bonus track, “The Lakes,” which will only be found on deluxe CD and vinyl editions not set to arrive for several weeks. There, she sings, “What should be over burrowed under my skin / In heart-stopping waves of hurt / I’ve come too far to watch some namedropping sleaze / Tell me what are my words worth.” The rest of “The Lakes” is a fantasy of a halcyon semi-retirement in the mountains — in which “I want to watch wisteria grow right over my bare feet / Because I haven’t moved in years” — “and not without my muse.” She even imagines red roses growing out of a tundra, “with no one around to tweet it”; fantasies of a social media-free utopia are really pandemic-rampant.)

The other most overtly “confessional” song here is also the most third-person one, up to a telling point. In “The Last Great American Dynasty,” Swift explores the rich history of her seaside manse in Rhode Island, once famous for being home to the heir to the Standard Oil fortune and, after he died, his eccentric widow. Swift has a grand old time identifying with the women who decades before her made fellow coast-dwellers go “there goes the neighborhood”: “There goes the maddest woman this town has ever seen / She had a marvelous time ruining everything,” she sings of the long-gone widow, Rebekah. “Fifty years is a long time / Holiday House sat quietly on that beach / Free of women with madness, their men and bad habits / Then it was bought by me… the loudest woman this town has ever seen.” (A fine madness among proud women is another recurring theme.)

But, these examples aside, the album is ultimately less obviously self-referential than most of Swift’s. The single “Cardigan,” which has a bit of a Lana Del Rey feel (even though it’s produced by Dessner, not Del Rey’s partner Antonoff) is part of Swift’s fictional high school trilogy, along with “August” and “Betty.” That sweater shows up again in the latter song, in which Swift takes on the role of a 17-year boy publicly apologizing for doing a girl wrong — and which kicks into a triumphant key change at the end that’s right out of “Love Story,” in case anyone imagines Swift has completely moved on from the spirit of early triumphs.

“Exile,” the duet with Bon Iver, recalls another early Swift song, “The Last Time,” which had her trading verses with Gary Lightbody of Snow Patrol. Then, as now, she gives the guy the first word, and verse, if not the last; it has her agreeing with her partner on some aspects of their dissolution (“I couldn’t turn things around”/”You never turned things around”) and not completely on others (“Cause you never gave a warning sign,” he sings; “I gave so many signs,” she protests).

Picking two standouts — one from the contented pile, one from the tormented — leads to two choices: “Illicit Affairs” is the best cheating song since, well, “Reputation’s” hard-to-top “Getaway Car.” There’s less catharsis in this one, but just as much pungent wisdom, as Swift describes the more mundane details of maintaining an affair (“Tell your friends you’re out for a run / You’ll be flushed when you return”) with the soul-destroying ones of how “what started in beautiful rooms ends with meetings in parking lots,” as “a drug that only worked the first few hundred times” wears off in clandestine bitterness.

But does Swift have a corker of a love song to tip the scales of the album back toward sweetness. It’s not “Invisible String,” though that’s a contender. The champion romance song here is “Peace,” the title of which is slightly deceptive, as Swift promises her beau, or life partner, that that quality of tranquility is the only thing she can’t promise him. If you like your love ballads realistic, it’s a bit of candor that renders all the compensatory vows of fidelity and courage all the more credible and deeply lovely. “All these people think love’s for show / But I would die for you in secret.”

That promise of privacy to her intended is a reminder that Swift is actually quite good at keeping things close to the vest, when she’s not spilling all — qualities that she seems to value and uphold in about ironically equal measure. Perhaps it’s in deference to the sanctity of whatever she’s holding dear right now that there are more outside narratives than before in this album — including a song referring to her grandfather storming the beaches in World War II — even as she goes outside for fresh collaborators and sounds, too. But what keeps you locked in, as always, is the notion of Swift as truth-teller, barred or unbarred, in a world of pop spin. She’s celebrating the masked era by taking hers off again.

Taylor Swift “Folklore” Republic Records

[reversecreek]

struts onto the dash carrying this deliriously wriggling little elf in my arms like a swaddled bebe......... they’re genuinely my oldest muse of all time i think i created them when i was like. 13 possibly. n i haven’t written them in Years but. i’m literally so excited to jst vibrating w muse. smiles at u all demurely..... they have risen. u can find their pinterest here n their playlist here.

* alana champion, nonbinary + they/them | you know nyla palmer, right? they’re twenty-two, and they’ve lived in irving for, like, eight months? well, their spotify wrapped says they listened to 6669 (i don’t know if you know) by neon indian like, a million times this year, which makes sense ‘cause they’ve got that whole a two headed doll of a prairie girl with stitched on rabbit ears and butterfly wings, befriending shadow puppets & finding god with your eyes open underwater in a public pool you broke into thing going on. i just checked and their birthday is march 2nd, so they’re a pisces, which is unsurprising, all things considered. ( nai, 24, gmt she/her  )

HISTORY:

was born in georgiaaaa georgiaaaa (phoebe bridgers voice holds my bang...) to a vry honest hard working man named george (omgggg he’s called GEORGE and he’s from GEORGIA? ahaaaaa fuckk ur jestinggg) nd a woman who did her best named pamela..... george worked on a construction site n pamela was a pharmacist..... their house was this small rickety white thing with a wrap around porch n a very rabid overgrown garden tht kind of looked like the earth ws trying to reclaim it bc nobody ever hd the time or motivation to mow the lawn.... there ws literally a piece of fold out furniture just entirely submerged by weeds n foliage

nyla ws always closest w their dad george..... he hd this way of looking at the world tht was seeing the best in all of it.... he took them on long walks where he talked abt how u have to respect the trees bc they’re breathing fr us n we’re breathing fr them..... he hd a strange whimsical sense of humour n a gnome alter ego called grundlebolt who always tickled them..... in a way this closeness created a distance between nyla n their mother but not so much that it ws rly a problem. just enough tht nyla sometimes waited until their mother ws out of eye n ear shot to tell their dad they loved him bc they didn’t wna make her sad >_>

(mental health, death & grief tw) pamela always struggled w her mental health but george ws great n understanding n knew how to help her thru this... nyla didn’t get it too greatly at a very young age bt they knew their mum got “the sads” sometimes (how their dad wld explain tht she needed to lay down in the quiet for a while or why she’d stood at the stove n let the dinner burn until the smoke detector went off without doing anything abt it). when nyla was 14 they got home one day to a police car in the driveway n came prancing in exuberantly as they always did. immediately hugged the legs of an officer bc this is hw they wld greet everyone they ever met. they only realised something was wrong when they let go n saw their mum sat at the table crying. essentially there ws an accident at the construction site george worked at n :/ yeah. 

(jst mental health & grief tw now) this rly had an intense ripple effect on everyone tbh. pamela’s mental health deteriorated quite a lot without george there as her rock n nyla sort of had to step in as best they cld but it was....... hard. some days she ws better bt some days nyla had to sit her in the bath n stroke a wet sponge over her back bc they didn’t know how else to calm her down. nyla always had a very overactive imagination which george encouraged bt it ws like. losing him rly opened a window in nyla’s head n all rationality went floating out of it. their dreams seemed more real than being awake. fantasy wasn’t jst the way they coped bt it was the way they thought n the way they saw. everything on earth was alive. the trees n the clouds n the wall with a brick missing at the bottom of her road n especially their dad. their dad was alive in everything in nyla’s head. the sun shining extra bright in the morning was george. ponds were a veil they could dunk her head under and find george waiting on the other side. reality rly just pulled the plug n said bye tbh n they were ok w that <3

(abuse implied tw) their mum remarried too fast to a man named stephen n it was jst not a good arrangement. he was Not a nice man. i won’t go into this but home wasn’t a nice place for nyla any more n after a couple of yrs stephen wound up asking them to leave n their mum said nothing to contradict tht. there’s more to this bt long story short nyla left <3

(drugs tw) they couch surfed fr a while before settling living w their best friend. they got up to like... all sorts of trouble n grew up far too fast. nyla’s lack of sense n realism hd a habit of getting them into some sticky situations n these few yrs were a rollercoaster where they got by on the skin of their teeth. when they think of high skl they think of gravel and skinned knees and sucking sherbet dunkers to ignore the taste of pennies in ur mouth and getting lost in the woods a lot bc they’d take FAR too many drugs n be lead astray having conversations with kind trees whose branches held their hands

(drug mention) got by on odd jobs like making candles n selling them at market stalls. leaf blowing at cemeteries. face painting fr children’s parties (where they were blatantly high). random stuff. all over the place. in this time them n their best friend also hd a sugar daddy named tony who always wore very impressive colour block suits n mink stoles n jewelled fedoras n hd a swanky apartment w marble floors. rly just. surreal. lots of strange stories frm this time.

things kind of blew up in their friendship group n they fell out w their best friend raya bc she slept w this guy aj who nyla hd been madly in love w for yrs.... he was a Stinker n honestly so ws their best friend so good riddance i say bt obviously it felt like having their entire world flipped upside dwn fr nyla.... they split after this came out bc they just did Not want to b around these ppl any more n they decided to leave w this guy frm a band they barely knew tht much save fr a one night stand to tour w them..... this ws another whirlwind. jst chock full of them. it ws similar to being on a teacup ride at a carnival n spinning round n round n only knowing u were surrounded by lots of lights. tht’s how they’d best describe their time on tour.

SO in terms of them coming to irving 8 months ago they came w the band.... they honestly did pretty well on tour n wound up renting a big beach house on dorado as a kind of “retreat” sort of place fr them to shack up in while they worked on writing and recording their first big studio album (they gt signed w a label so it’s all vry exciting stuff). nyla among like 3 others were allowed to stay w them too bc they hd a lot of fun on tour. literally jst. taken on as professional groupies essentially. nyla loved it bc they’d never seen the ocean n when they first got there they jst threw off all their clothes n ran straight into the water. it was 3pm on a tuesday afternoon. they got arrested fr public indecency n didn’t get why bc they were like but i just wanted to hug the ocean u silly little oinker? i picture the beach house as like. the loudest one on dorado.... comes alive like a jungle at night..... they r probably bad neighbours. anyway. onto personality puts hand on hip.

PERSONALITY:

sets out patio furniture on someone else’s lawn n jst takes a seat n leans back like ahhhhh vat a nice day to be alive ya! (swedish accent suddenly bc they think it’s fun). they come out n start yelling n they’re jst so confused they’re like hey wat’s the big idea hey wat’s go on here why u angies why this happen?

likes drawing imaginary veins over their arms in all different colour blue pens in a sudden fit of hyperfixation n then forgets all abt it n goes out like tht n scares several townsfolk bt they’re oblivious they’re jst in her own world loving life already onto the next fixation. has many many different fads like this. one day will jst start snipping up a bunch of magazines bc they’re like EYES ARE COOL N THEY SEE EVERYTHING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! :P n they’ll stick a bunch of them over their wall n then forget they was doing that n leap onto the next. quite a pattern. bt they love the vein thing a lot it makes them feel like a walking planetarium like they have their own constellations

sometimes jst doesn’t make sense. they’re honestly kind of strange. pops up in places like they suddenly materialised there n it’s like how did u get there where have u been when were u last seen are u ok. has the energy of an ancient deity frm deep in a mountain cave n an ambiguous forest sprite all at once..... talks shit honestly. abt anything n everything. sometimes outrageous. sometimes plain incoherent. like what are u talking about? i dnt kno. even i dnt kno sometimes.

luvs stick n pokes will let anyone tattoo whatever they want on them for the price of a gummy bear kindly placed onto their tongue n swallowed whole

has this obsession w being underwater w their eyes open luvs it. calls it their tadpole time. runs baths just to lie there blinking looking around n drifting her arms. best friends w the bottom of any local swimming pool n hs probably given it a quick kiss so it knows they’re bff’s n then got sick bc there’s sm germs in a public pool. says the kgb probably poisoned their oatmeal n r finally here to deliver on their promise n THAT’S why they got sick unrelated to the pool incident. what promise? noone knows.

unclear if they believe what they say or if they jst has a very expanded sense of humour where they nvr let on if they’re joking.... lines r blurred a lot..... 

loves excitedly shouting things. sometimes just screams at the sky bc they say it’s good to let the creatures in ur belly fly out every once in a while otherwise their wings get sore.

(drugs tw) still does an excessive amt of hallucinogens n it kind of shows. very bad fr their brain bt we’re going to ignore it.

dresses fun n strange n eccentric n careless. loves to experiment. does nt care abt what’s considered to be societally appropriate. living in their own world.

sleeps around a lot... jst doesn’t rly see sex as a big deal.... very free w themselves in that way..... sometimes greets their friends w a kiss on the lips they’re like awww :) kisses <3 when they run into them in the middle of the cereal aisle n then pulls away n suddenly breaks into a box tht has a free toy in it bc it’s a banana with googly eyes n that’s the best thing they’ve ever heard in their LIFE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! n isn’t he so HANDSOME????? enchante indeed my good sir ;)... gives the toy a kiss too.

WANTED CONNECTIONS:

other groupies of the band: self explanatory a little.... i dnt have a name for the band yet bt all can b worked out..... i picture them as kind of. not that nice but like. there for a good time........ rock genre.... bit chaotic...... to say the least........ they dnt have to have come there w the band like nyla n the others they cld have been adopted in their time there.... whoever wld b wild n down fr a good time <3

chaotic trash goblin friends: idk what this title rly means it just came to me in a vision....... jst ppl tht r rly kind of off the rails n don’t care abt anything...... they r who nyla tends to mesh very well w......... they rly r living in their own world n by their own rules n they like ppl who do this too <3 inevitably they get up to no good n party far too much...... cld be angst to this if they enable each other’s bad habits...... world’s our oyster. opens my office door. let’s talk abt it.

nyla set up camp on their front lawn: maybe jst w a fold out chair. maybe w a literal pop up tent w someone else too. genuinely so bizarre of them bt that’s what we’re dealing with. they poke their head into the tent n nyla’s lying down crunching on a cracker crumbs over their tits n they just hold it out to them nt even fully consumed n are like hey polly want a cracker? :)

they responded to her craigslist ad: they posted one saying they cld cleanse their house of demonic energy bc they’re an all seeing eye in touch w the spirits. this is a lie. they came n waved sage around n did a little dance as they did it w bird sounds playing on a special cd they brought fr the occasion (had weird indistinct doodles over the case it ws brought in) n then ws like OOH! scary.... n jumped at something in the hall. they go in thinking maybe they’ve seen a ghost bt they just were startled by their own reflection in a mirror n is like. scary mirror placement...... might wna reconsider that........ they charge them merely 10 dollars fr their time n is like this was so fun we shd do it again some time :) also i think u have mould on ur bathroom tile! vanishes. they dnt recall them ever going to the bathroom.

came knocking asking for items for a garage sale: yes. u heard that right. they’re asking for ur muses things to set up their own garage sale. selling items that do not belong to them. they think this is a genius business strategy n don’t understand why ppl think this is so strange or why they cant just ask ppl to donate them things to sell bc hey they’re an entrepreneur? they even had a pencil behind their ear when they knocked on the door so why aren’t ppl taking their business seriously? probably got distracted several times trying to explain their pitch n chattered abt random other things instead.

honestly anything... fwbs... flings... good influence... someone who cnt stand the fact they’re barely coherent.... someone they stopped on the street one day n asked for their opinion on water beds.... we cn do literally anything. fling ur chara my way n we can talk.

[girlpornparadise]

The Caged Bird Moans (pt 1)

Pairing: Diego Jimenez/f!Reader (Power - Starz)

Word Count: ~2600

Warnings:  It's a bit Stockholm syndromey, but that's not a real thing anyway (look it up). Not exactly non-con, but it skirts the idea, so if power disparities aren't your jam, please move along. It just real dirty. SMUT!

Personal ramble: Would anyone actually react like this to the situation I've set forth? No. But just as the pizza guy is never hot and doesn't offer you his extra sausage, this is porn people! So suspend your disbelief and don't hate on me for my bullsh*t.

I also wrote all this nonsense a week ago before I read anything from the lovely @1zashreena1 , @heresathreebee or @nicke0115 so sorry if it looks similar, I swear it's a coincidence.

"Ouch", you think to yourself but instead swallow the pain. Your arm hurts under the firm grasp of the thug dragging you from the elevator into the spacious penthouse.

"Be careful with that." Says a commanding voice from across the room.

The grip loosens, but he's still using your momentum to force you forward. You stumble, unsure of just how much danger you are in.

As you take in your surroundings the owner of the voice turns around and approaches you. He looks you up and down, examining you like a prize he had won.

"We can't afford to damage her." He states plainly, looking at the man still holding you in place.

As he examines you, you examine him right back. Whereas he is doing it in an obvious way, head nodding to rake his eyes over you, you move your eyes only, unable to control your body in this moment. You follow the carefully polished boots up past the fitted black jeans to the black buttoned up shirt with the slight sheen to it, that accentuates his frame. Everything is obviously expensive and very deliberately chosen. As your eyes settle on his face, a recognization dawns on you. Diego Jimenez. One of the heads of the Jiminez cartel. His reputation was well known to you. An unstable, merciless man whose penchant for partying made him a big name in certain circles. You were scared before, but now your body goes rigid with fear and your gaze hits the floor with force.

Though you're no longer looking at him directly you can sense his smugness and satisfaction at knowing you are now showing the appropriate amount of fear for the situation you're in. Maybe it's your hind brain telling you you are in the presence of an apex predator. Maybe it was the clipped snort he let out, tinged with amusement as he nodded with approval.

After what feels like an eternity, but was probably mere seconds, he speaks again.

"Take her to the guest room." He orders the man still firmly gripping your arm. "Lock this little bird in her cage."

Dragging you again, this time down the hall, Diego's orders are followed to completion. You are practically thrown into the room as the door slams shut behind you.

You stumble, catching yourself on the bed. You collapse onto it as tears prick your eyes and subsequently fall down your cheeks. You begin to sob, but muffle it in the covers, assuming someone is standing guard outside and not wanting to seem even weaker in such an intense situation. But the tears flow freely as the shock of what's happened slowly wears off and you begin to process the details of your abduction.

You hadn't grown up in this world, though your ties to it were strong. You were part of the Bennet family, a rival cartel, headed by your grandfather. He insisted you grow up distanced from this world. A world of violence and cruelty. A world of drugs and guns and transactions ending in death. Based on your current reaction, you couldn't help but think maybe it was because you're so weak. Both you and he knew it was true, you were too soft to be a part of the business, too kind to do what would be required of you. So he kept you away, from his city and his dealings and all of the darkness that came with it.

You were in town for a rare family visit when you were taken without warning, snatched from the street at gunpoint. They were able to do it without drawing attention, entirely professional, and you complied with their every demand as a sense of terror ripped through you.

And now here you were, trapped by a barbarous stranger who could end your life at any moment without a second thought.

As you wore yourself out from crying, you began to take in the room, determined to get your bearings. It was sparsely decorated, obviously the work of a man unattached. It was also immaculately clean, obviously the work of his maid. As your breathing slows and your senses sharpen, you become aware that the comforter you are still on top of is plush and expensive, like the kind found at a swanky hotel.

Curiosity returning with your senses, you walk over to the window that stretches from floor to ceiling and take in the impressive view of the city. If the long elevator ride weren't a clear enough indicator, the view tells you that you are in the penthouse of a very upscale building.

Next to the window is a large bathroom and you walk in. You splash cold water on your face and dry it on one of the plush towels. You can't help be momentarily amused by how well stocked the room is with soaps and lotions. There were definitely worse places to be trapped. Was this the definition of a gilded cage?

As you settle down, you take off your shoes and sit back down on the bed. You're exhausted to your core, and you sink into the mattress, wanting to disappear. You want to keep your wits about you, alert and on guard, but instead the stress combined with the late hour forces you to sleep.

You are woken up abruptly the following morning when the door swings open and you are literally dragged out of bed by the same man as yesterday. 

You're a bleary eyed, rumpled mess and the same fear and pain shoot through you as you remember where you are and how you got there. Your breathing is shallow as you try not to panic.

You've been dragged before Diego who is standing imposingly before you, hands clasped in front of him, chin slightly upward so he can look down his nose at you.

He examines you once more and you can tell he's disgusted by what he sees.

"Get our guest something to wear." He barks. "And get her something to eat. We can't bargain if she's broken."

As he turns away from you to resume whatever you interrupted, you catch the flash of the gun in his waistband and the fear settles once again in the pit of your stomach.

You are escorted back to the room forcefully and your mind is racing. You know everyone who comes through the penthouse is armed to the teeth and there's no chance of escape. You're not just weak, you're helpless. You assume you're being held for some kind of ransom, probably territory or resources as opposed to money, and you silently pray that a deal for your release is struck quickly so this nightmare can be over.

Soon after, the door opens and a housekeeper enters carrying a couple of bags of clothes. She doesn't look you in the eye and you wouldn't know what to say to her anyway. 

Once she has left, you rummage through the clothes. There's nothing there you'd pick for yourself, but you settle on a white fitted t-shirt and jeans. You carry them with you into the bathroom along with a handful of drugstore makeup you find in the bottom of the bag.

You look at yourself in the mirror and the reason for Diego's revulsion becomes clear. Your clothes are wrinkled and creased and your mascara is smudged under your eyes. You lock the bathroom door behind you, strip down and take a shower. The running water calms you and once you finish you get dressed and approximate your normal makeup routine with what you have. If you're going to put on a brave front, you need to be as put together as possible.

When you emerge from the bathroom a tray of breakfast is waiting on the nightstand next to the bed. Eggs sunny side up and toast, simple and straightforward. You devour it greedily since you haven't eaten since lunch yesterday.

The day passes with 2 more meals brought to you by the same housekeeper at the appropriate intervals. In the absence of your phone, you distract yourself with mindless TV on the rather large set opposite the bed. You don't take in much as you think about your predicament and then try to force those thoughts of the worst case scenario from your mind.

Your sleep that night is restless.

You are brought before Diego once again in the morning, shortly after you wake. 

This time you are allowed to walk under your own power, though your legs feel wobbly and your feet unsure as you approach him.

You're wearing a cotton t-shirt and shorts,  the closest thing you could find to pajamas. As he looks at you, you become painfully aware that you're not wearing underwear, his eyes seeming to stop at all the places where it should be.

You are at least able to look at him and take in more this time. He's clad in a similar black button up shirt and black jeans as yesterday, a uniform of sorts to convey his status. His hair is neatly cut and accentuates his angles, sharp jaw and well placed cheekbones. His greying facial hair gives him some earned distinction and his expression is hard and deliberate to elicit a specific reaction of fear. Through the careful tailoring of his shirt you can see that his body is sturdy and muscular. His tense posture using his frame to his advantage, making him seem larger than he actually is. You know to fear him, but he may be the most attractive man you've ever seen in real life.

He obviously cultivates an aura of power, and you can't help but be drawn to him as an Alpha Male. As you steel yourself, you dare to look him in the eyes. His eyes are cold but impossibly magnetic and you can't look away. He's looking back at you now, into you. Your heart forgets how to beat in rhythm and you swallow thickly.

He sees your fear and is clearly amused by it.

"Breakfast will be ready soon. You should go take a shower." He says, his lips curling upwards. 

"I, I was going to." you stammer.

"Good girl." It comes out as almost a purr and sends a shiver down your spine.

This time it's Diego, not his associate who accompanies you back to the bedroom. His hand is hovering above the small of your back, ushering you forward while maintaining a small distance. You enter the room and the lock clicks behind you.

You turn to see that he's still in the room and with his gaze set upon you, you begin to back away towards the bathroom,  afraid to turn your back on him. This was clearly his intended effect.

You expect him to leave, but he's doing the opposite. He is stalking forward. Your heart is pounding out of your chest and your uneven breathing becomes gulping for air.

As he closes the gap between your bodies, he repeats his suggestion. "You should go take a shower." It's not a suggestion though, it's a command.

He leans in. "Go on." His lips are close enough to your ear that his breath catches in your hair.

His thick body is now urging you through the bathroom doorway by its approach. You back through it, still transfixed by his gaze. 

You glance side eyed to your left at the shower that takes up the far wall. It's one of those large walk-in showers with a stone floor and a rain showerhead. It suddenly seems less like a shower and feels more like a trap about to spring shut.

"Take off your clothes." He says. He's not asking.

You gulp, your eyes have gone wide at the demand.

"Take. Off. Your. Clothes." He repeats in a tone that is both amused and losing patience. He raises his eyebrows slightly as he says it.

You look away, ashamed, and slowly and nervously acquiesce. You stand before him completely naked and try to avert your gaze. You are drawing your body inward, trying to conceal yourself in any way you can.

"Turn on the water." he says with his wicked smile widening.

You turn on the shower and wait for it to warm. It dawns on you that there's no shower curtain to protect you or glass wall to hide behind. You are fully exposed and will remain so.

You step under the water, unsure of what to do next. You'd obviously showered hundreds of times, but this wasn't a shower. It was a show.

"Wash yourself." His voice is quieter, more of a harsh whisper.

You grab a washcloth and pump the foaming body wash onto it. You rub it on the back of your neck and slowly work your way down to your shoulders. Your nerves have subsided a little as the water washes over your skin.

He's mesmerized by the motion of your hands and you drag the washcloth across your collarbones and down to your breasts, where you languidly rub them with the cloth as well as your free hand.

Your nipples harden at your own touch. He notices and his tongue drags over his bottom lip. You close your eyes in an attempt to momentarily escape.

When you open your eyes you notice him shift his weight and catch a glimpse of the shift in his muscles under his shirt. You get a rush as you feel the power dynamic shift slightly. You are slow to rub the washcloth down your legs and you arch your back slightly as you bend over, purposely sticking out your ass more than you naturally would. 

His eyes are dark with lust and you can feel the warmth radiating from between your own legs.

"Rub your clit." He says, reclaiming his power.

You look at him with shocked eyes and your eyebrows knit.

"You heard me." he says. "I won't ask again." His head tilting slightly.

You put the washcloth aside and tentatively slide your middle finger between your thighs to your bundle of nerves. You notice how wet you already are and using gentle pressure you begin to rubbing in circles.

You close your eyes and swallow as your walls contract and release. Your breathing gets heavier and heavier until you're panting. Panting and touching yourself for this fixated man. 

"Cum for me." He demands. "I need to see you cum." 

You think to fake an orgasm. To end this little game he's playing, but it's too late. Your finger presses harder on your clit and you tremble as the real thing rips through you. You close your eyes and cry out with abandon.

When you regain yourself you look at him. You are raw and exposed and at your most vulnerable. His mouth is in a wide smile and his eyes gleam with satisfaction. 

He reaches out to you, towel in hand. You steady yourself, turn off the water, and take the towel from him. You wrap it around yourself, suddenly panged with shame at how readily you revealed your most intimate self to this menacing stranger. Your posture closes, and reflects your return to shyness.

"Good girl." He says, and you feel the words like honey dripping in your ears.

He turns and leaves, his confident stride drawing your attention to how his jeans hug his perfect behind. 

You dry yourself off and as you get to your inner thighs you're reminded of how wet you are. How wet you are for him. You want to blame the shower, but you know the truth. You're spellbound by this man, and god are you in trouble.