#im reading the table of contents and god.... this sounds so cool

[roaringheat]

wtf do u mean the rdr2 guide book is $250 im gonna rob someone

[hrina]

1923, Pt. II - The Week

PAIRING: Harry x Reader RATING: M WORD COUNT: 8.4k REQUESTED: perhaps? idek anymore

hey yall, here’s PART 2 of the historical/groundskeeper!AU :) i really hope u guys like it, i spent the past two weeks trying to make it the best that i could. anywayyyy im sure everyone knows the drill by now: support content creators by reblogging their work and/or offering feedback! happy reading 💚💚💚

warning: parts of this fic will contain mature language and nsfw content. if it makes you uncomfortable, you absolutely do not have to read! take care of urselves <3

PART I: The Day

~*~

    July 7th, 1923

It’s hot.

You set your glass of water back onto the little table to your left. Excess condensation coats your fingertips; you wipe them against your forehead, hoping that it will be enough to cool you down. No such luck—the droplets provide a momentarily chill before sinking into your skin, leaving you feeling just as scorched as before.

You recline against the cushy yellow lounger, closing your eyes and tilting your face up to the sky. The sun beats down against your cheeks. The thin, cottony material of your dress is pasted to your thighs; you flex your legs slightly, hoping that the fabric will unstick.

In the distance, Apollo and Artemis—no longer confined to their pens—roam around the small, girded pasture adjacent to the stables. The fountain in the middle of the back lawn is about one hundred feet away. Skinny streams of water shoot out from the stone hands of a carved angel, spilling picturesquely into the upwelling below.

You crack one eye open slowly, letting your focus drift over to where Harry is crouched on the cobbled staircase of the porch. Sweat glistens on the nape of his neck as he furiously scrubs the steps clean.

Your thoughts retreat to the night before, when he’d kissed the back of your hand whilst standing in that very same spot. As though triggered by the memory, your knuckles begin to tingle.

Harry sits back on his haunches and drags his forearm across his face, wiping away the excess perspiration on his skin. His white shirt is soaked through with moisture. When he lifts his attention from the ground, your gazes lock for a brief moment. Immediately, your open eye snaps shut.

And you can’t be entirely sure, but you think that he may have smiled.

You lay in silence for another five minutes or so, indulging in the occasional sip of water as the heat of the summer envelopes your body. You only sit up when someone clears their throat from behind you, pulling you from your tranquil daze.

“Good afternoon,” Martin says. He’s standing a bit too close for comfort, casting a looming shadow over your torso.

“Hello,” you reply. You try to mask the disappointment that threatens to seep into your tone. A small part of you—a tiny, microscopic part—had been hoping that he was someone else.

“Thought you could use something to drink,” he says, plopping onto the recliner to your right. Your attention falls lower—two glasses are nestled comfortably in his hands. The caramel-coloured liquid inside each cup glints alluringly, sloshing over a trio of ice cubes that have already begun to melt.

“Is that…scotch?” you say, narrowing your eyes slightly.

“Yes,” he says. He extends an arm, offering you one of the glasses. “Fancy a taste?”

“I’ve had it before,” you say smoothly, shaking your head. “Truthfully, it’s not my favourite. Besides—” You gesture to the little table on your left. There’s still a bit of water residing in your cup. “—I already have a drink.”

Martin’s face falls.

“Thank you, though,” you add, not wanting to sound rude. “I appreciate your thoughtfulness.”

That seems to bolster him a bit, you think, because his shoulders straighten as he shoots you a satisfied smile.

You clear your throat, gazing pointedly up at the sky. “Where’s Andrew?”

“Hmm? Oh.” Martin taps one foot against the floor. He’s wearing a pair of shiny black loafers—they’re new, you guess, and extremely expensive. “He’s in the middle of a call. Private business pertaining to Markham Motors, I believe. It doesn’t concern me—not yet, anyway.”

“Not yet,” you echo.

He chuckles, nodding proudly. “Your brother is remarkably ambitious. Once our two companies merge, I reckon that we’ll be unstoppable.”

“How exciting,” you murmur, reaching over for your water. You raise the cup to your mouth, expelling a soft sigh. “You must be thrilled, I’d imagine.”

“All in a day’s work,” he grunts, setting one glass of scotch down onto the ground. He lifts the other to his lips, taking a delicate sip.

You sit there awkwardly, unsure of how to respond. Martin’s eyes roam the wide expanse of your backyard, jumping from the stables to the fountain and back again. He pauses, then, humming pensively when he spots Harry polishing the stairs less than fifteen feet away.

“It’s a bit…unconventional to be dining with the help, is it not?” he asks, cocking one eyebrow nonchalantly.

You stiffen and glance over your shoulder—Harry is on all fours, scowling as he scrubs a particularly stubborn stain from the bottom step. His chestnut hair tumbles onto his forehead, twisted into pretty ringlets. A spark of heat blazes up your spine.

You turn your attention back to Martin, only to find that he’s also watching the other man work. It’s different, however—his look is judgmental, austere. His thin upper lip curls in disdain and his eyebrows cinch together, radiating condescension.  

“We are…” You choose your words carefully. “…a rather unconventional family. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“I suppose so,” he acquiesces, tilting his head to the side. “But does it not distress you, somewhat? Inviting them into your home, making yourself and your possessions vulnerable?”

Something gross festers in the pit of your stomach. You bite back the sound of disgust that threatens to spill from your mouth.

“No,” you state curtly. “Not at all.”

Silence falls over the two of you, thick and poignant and tremendously uncomfortable. After a long, tense moment, you sit up, dusting off the skirt of your dress and releasing a faint groan. “I think I’ll be heading in, now.”

“As will I,” Martin replies, jumping to pursue you.

You stand, clutching your glass of water in one hand. He quickly reaches out with extended fingers, trying to take it from you. Though chivalrous, the action is weak, and you both know it.

“Here, let me—”

“No, it’s quite alright—,” you start, but he cuts you off.

“I insist—”

“Mister Russell, really, it’s fine—”

The cup, slick with condensation, slips from your grasp and shatters loudly against the floor. You gasp when a jagged shard slices against your ankle. Pain flares up your shin; abruptly, you fall back onto the lounger. You angle your leg to the side, surveying the damage with wide eyes. The cut is about an inch long; blood drips from the injury, seeping down toward the sole of your bare foot. Bile gathers on your tongue.

“Good God!” Martin exclaims unhelpfully. “You’re bleeding!”

“I can see that,” you snap, bending down and pressing your fingertips against the laceration.

Heavy footsteps approach. When you cast a glance over your shoulder, you find Harry stalking toward you, his eyebrows furrowed in bewilderment.

“What happened?” he asks, but when you hold up one hand, he freezes in his tracks.

“Be careful!” you warn, your voice strained. “There’s glass everywhere.”

“What happened?” he repeats. His gaze lands on Martin, and his nostrils flare unnervingly. “What did you do?”

“Nothing!” the other man protests, retreating a few steps away. “It just fell!”

“Go back inside,” Harry commands. “Check all the lavatories—there may be spare bandages in one of the cupboards.”

Martin frowns—you get the feeling that he’s not exactly used to being ordered around. “Now, you listen here—”

“Mister Russell!” you interrupt shrilly, fixing him with a stern glare. “Do as he says. Please.”

Martin closes his mouth and purses his lips, nodding tersely. He nearly trips over himself as he stumbles back into the house.

“He’s useless,” you mutter, bloody fingers slipping against your skin.

Harry doesn’t reply; instead, he situates himself on the opposite edge of the recliner, beckoning you closer with a quick flick of his hand.

“Face this way,” he instructs. “There’s no glass on this side.”

You obey him wordlessly. He gets you settled back into the chair, guiding your right leg over his thigh so that your foot lays comfortably in his lap. With no hesitation whatsoever, he grasps the white fabric covering the jut of his shoulder and gives a mighty tug. The sleeve rips cleanly at the seam. Your eyes nearly bulge out of your head.

“We’ll use this,” Harry says, pulling the material down to his wrist. “Just until he returns with proper bindings.”

“Alright,” you whisper. It takes every ounce of willpower in your body to avoid staring at his naked arm—golden, sweat-slicked skin stretched over smooth, corded muscle. A frighteningly large part of you wants to lean forward and sink your teeth into his bicep. You swiftly curb the urge, swallowing heavily and trying to focus your attention on something—anything­­—else.

“How did this happen?” Harry asks.

He balls the fabric up and dabs cautiously at the blood dripping from your wound.

“He was—well, I don’t even know, really,” you scoff, rolling your eyes. “He was trying to be gallant, I suppose.”

“‘Gallant’?” he parrots, gazing down at your leg. “He fancies you, then?”

“Yes.” You pause, rethinking your answer. “No.” You sigh. “Perhaps; I’m not sure.”

He smirks. Despite the pain pulsating up your leg, you wiggle your toes and nudge him with your knee.

“What’s so amusing?” you ask, puzzled.

He simply chuckles, shaking his head. “It’s just that…you’re a bit oblivious, that’s all.”

And for the second time in less than twenty-four hours, you balk and say, “I beg your pardon?”

Harry laughs. Gingerly, he wraps his torn sleeve around your ankle, applying a gentle pressure to your skin. You wince, curling your fingers into fists. His hands—though rough and calloused—are surprisingly tender with their movements. He’s slow and practiced, treating you as though you’re made of porcelain. Your heartbeat quickens; you hope that he can’t hear the way it thunders beneath your ribs.

“You’re rather clueless when it comes to gauging a man’s affections for you,” he explains. He makes it sound as though it’s a phenomenon of which you should already be aware.

You narrow your eyes and purse your lips.

“Tread carefully,” you tell him, though you can’t hide the sardonic undertone in your voice. “You’re wading through dangerous waters, here.”

“What I mean to say is—” Harry clears his throat, shrugging coolly. “—since yesterday’s arrival, that fool’s chattering hasn’t ceased. Building oneself up with words…that’s the sign of a boy aiming to impress a girl.”

“You don’t sound too keen on that method,” you note.

He rakes his fingers through his hair. “Excellent observation. I am not.”

“And why is that?” you ask, cocking one eyebrow challengingly. “How exactly would you attempt to make your affections known?”

Harry places one of his palms on the skin just below your knee. You jump at the contact, shocked by his brazen move. Having his hands on your ankle is one thing—but your knee? It’s risky, bold, nearly scandalous…and with the way he’s looking at you, it’s clear that he knows it, too.

“Building oneself up with words is a boy’s game,” he tells you. “But building oneself up with actions…that’s the sign of a man aiming to impress a woman. It may be a bit unconventional, but—” He pins you with a deliberate stare. “I work for a rather unconventional family. Wouldn’t you agree?”

You say nothing. Harry’s green eyes pierce your face, peeling you open layer by layer. You’ve stopped breathing, your chest completely still. Goosebumps erupt across your arms. Instinctively, your concentration falls to his lips: twin pink petals, sinful and alluring and so incredibly—

“I’ve got the bandages!”

And just like that, the spell is broken. You drag your gaze away from the man in front of you, turning to the side and watching as Martin jogs back over with a thick spool of gauze clutched tightly to his chest.

“Here,” he pants. He passes the roll to Harry, who clears his throat loudly and begins to unwind the bindings with swift, proficient fingers.

Martin then fixes his attention on you, raising his eyebrows quizzically.

“Are you alright?” he asks, shooting you an expectant look.

“Fine,” you croak out, though the blood roaring in your ears sincerely begs to differ.

You blink yourself out of your stupor, running your tongue over the roof of your mouth and exhaling shakily. Harry has turned back to your ankle, replacing the makeshift bandages with proper ones. You glance up at Martin and nod your head, praying that he can’t see the flustered agitation brewing in your eyes.

“Yes, Mister Russell, I’m fine. Thank you.”

      July 9th, 1923

The library is your favourite room in the house.

It’s quiet, peaceful, and is accompanied only by the rarest of disturbances. Lydia’s never really enjoyed reading—she can’t sit still long enough to do so. Andrew hasn’t stepped past the threshold in years—he’s been too busy running Markham Motors. So, that just leaves you, along with the freedom to choose from the hundreds of books lining the shelves. You’ve dabbled in fiction and non-fiction alike, soaking up the words from the page just as the ground soaks up rain from a storm.

The library has become your safe haven. You wouldn’t have it any other way.

You trod over to your favourite spot to read: a small alcove in the wall, decked out with fluffy cushions and tucked right up against a wide window. It gives you a perfect view of the driveway and the front lawn down below. You’ve spent hours in this little nook, absorbed in novels and poems and biographies. You’ve passed entire nights curled up next to the windowpane, having dozed off in the middle of a story. It’s become a tradition of sorts, despite the dull ache in your neck that always ensues when you stir the next morning.

The book in your hands is heavy as you sink into the mess of pillows. Bright, natural light streams in from the window to your left. You release a soft sigh as your fingers flip to where you’d last left off during your previous visit.

She is tolerable, but not handsome enough to tempt me—

You scoff and roll your eyes. You’ve read this story a dozen times; you already know how it ends.

For the next twenty minutes, nothing matters save for the adventures of Miss Elizabeth Bennet. You allow yourself to get lost in the world of Pride and Prejudice, eyes hungrily raking over every printed detail. You’re only pulled out of your reverie when a shrill, jubilant cry pierces through the silence.

Instinctively, your head snaps toward the direction of the noise. Through the spotless windowpane, you spy Harry and Lydia standing on the lawn. Harry is holding a brown hose, angling it downward and watering the grass beneath his feet. Your sister is next to him, babbling and gesturing animatedly with her hands. You smile at the sight.

You slip your thumb between the pages of the book to mark your place. The novel is forgotten as you study the scene playing out below.

Harry is wearing an ashen blue button-up and a pair of black trousers. A thin white undershirt peeks out from beneath his collar. He smirks at something that Lydia says, ducking his head and trying to conceal the fond expression on his face. She throws her hands up in the air and twirls around—when she staggers slightly, Harry holds out his arm. Her fingers dig into his elbow to regain balance, and the two of them dissolve into giggles. Warmth unfurls in your chest.

Harry tilts his head back, surveying the cloudless sky with squinted eyes and a wrinkled nose. His attention turns to the house, then, sweeping absentmindedly over the fair bricks and stone accents.

Suddenly, his gaze darts forward. You freeze when his green irises lock squarely on you.

Hot humiliation creeps up your neck, because of course. Staring at him and remaining undetected is a luxury that few can afford.

Your lips part with a soft gasp, and your shoulders stiffen. The corners of Harry’s mouth curl up slightly—so faint, you think it may just be a figment of your imagination. The gilded copy of Pride and Prejudice rests in your lap, abandoned. It mocks you and your preoccupation—your fascination—with the man on the ground.

Harry shoots you a small, mysterious smile, and lifts his chin. You sit up straight, processing his request.

“I shouldn’t—,” you start to say before remembering that he can’t actually hear you. You clench your jaw and shake your head, hoping that he’ll be able to register the movement through the glass.

But his teasing expression only deepens as he beckons you again. A ragged exhale falls from your lips, and a tepid swell of adrenaline floods your veins. You snap your book shut, tucking it against your chest and pushing yourself away from the window. You swear that your heart skips a beat when your feet hit the floor.

Don’t rush, don’t rush, don’t rush.

It’s hard to maintain a measured pace, especially when such a big part of you just wants to take off and sprint down the spiral staircase. You force yourself to dawdle, to smooth your fingers over the bannister and descend slowly. Your palms are clammy as you make your way across the foyer, eyes glued to the large double doors on the opposite wall.

And then you’re outside, the sun beating down against your face and the breeze blowing gently through your hair. You saunter toward the edge of the large portico, leaning against the stone railing with your novel still clutched tightly to your sternum.

“Dee!”

Lydia whips around, taken aback by the call of her name. Upon recognising you, her features morph into a mask of quizzical mockery.

“Where have you been?” she asks, jogging over.

“I was reading,” you say, shrugging indifferently. After a short moment, you add, “Beth’s looking for you.”

“Me? What for?”

In the periphery of your vision, you spy Harry approaching. Water leaks from the nozzle of the hose; he gathers a few droplets onto his knuckles before smearing them across his sweaty forehead. You bite your tongue to suppress a snort.

“Dinner, I believe,” you lie, turning back to your sister. “It’s your turn to choose, is it not?”

Lydia’s eyes light up. “You’re right! It’s Monday, isn’t it?”

Her feet smack loudly against the cobbled steps as she races toward the door. Before disappearing inside, however, she skids to a stop, spinning around and raising one arm high above her head. “Goodbye, Harry!”

Harry smiles, lifting two fingers to his temple in a lazy salute. “Goodbye, little bug.”

A moment later, she’s gone.

And a moment after that, you find yourself sincerely regretting your decision to send her away. Harry observes you with raised brows and a knowing smirk on his face. You gnaw anxiously on your bottom lip, avoiding his eyes. A long beat of silence ensues.

“Hello,” he finally says.

You exhale quietly, relieved. “Hello.”

“Beautiful day, isn’t it?”

“It is,” you agree.

You lean against the stone bannister, peering down at him. The breeze picks up, gusting through your thin skirt and blouse. A small part of you notes the theatrical romanticism of it all: his being on the ground, the butterflies flapping around in your stomach—

“Do you always spend the majority of a nice day locked away in the library?” Harry asks. His pretty irises twinkle alluringly when your gazes meet.

“I—no,” you stammer. “I was just…reading.”

“As one does in a room full of books, I’d expect.”

Embarrassment blooms in your chest.

“Yes,” you say softly. “Precisely.”

He grins.

“How is your ankle?” he asks, motioning toward the bottom of your leg.

“Oh.” You look down, flexing your foot. “It’s healing. I should be fully rehabilitated in a few days.”

Harry chuckles, nodding. You purse your lips and try for a smile, but you’re afraid that it resembles more of a grimace.

“What’ve you got, there?” He lifts his chin, gesturing to the novel tucked between your forearm and your chest. You’re grasping it so tightly that you’re surprised the skin of your knuckles hasn’t split.

You clear your throat, revealing the embroidered inscription on the front cover. “Er—Pride and Prejudice. It’s my favourite.”

Harry hums. “Mine, too.”

And though it is extremely impolite, you can’t stop the look of shock that makes its way onto your face.

“You’ve read it?”

He chuckles sheepishly, dropping his chin. “You have bewitched me, body and soul,” he suddenly says, lifting his eyes from the ground and fixing his unwavering gaze on you, “and I love, I love, I love you. I never wish to be parted from you—”

“—from this day on,” you finish, breathless.

He smiles. Zaps of electricity surge down your spine. The two of you are silent, tripping over unspoken murmurs of indulgence. You scrape your tongue over your teeth, clueless.

Harry is the first one to break.

“I should get back to work,” he announces gently. He gestures to the hose hanging limply from his hand and gives a perfunctory shrug.

“Of course.” You nod, inhaling deeply. “I should get back to…”

He smirks when you trail off. “Reading?” he supplies.

“Yes,” you blurt. “Yes. Exactly.” You hesitate, drumming your fingers against the auburn cover of your book. “Good day, Harry.”

“Good day, miss!” he calls as you begin to walk away. You pause and cast a glance over your shoulder, an admonishment dancing on the tip of your tongue.

For the hundredth time, Harry, you mustn’t feel obligated to address me in such a formal—

But then you register the mischief on his face, and the realisation sinks in.

“You did that on purpose, didn’t you?” you ask.

Crinkles dig into the corners of his eyes.

“I’m afraid that I don’t understand,” he says, tilting his head to the side in faux-confusion. You wipe a clammy palm against the waistband of your skirt and bite back a small smile. Harry’s playful expression deepens, poking a cavernous dimple into his left cheek.

“Have a little compassion on my nerves,” you say, pulling another quote from the novel clasped against your body. “You tear them to pieces.”

His lips twitch, impressed and amused.

“What a shame,” he counters, snickering quietly, “for I dearly love to laugh.”

         July 13th, 1923

The past hour of your life has been spent rolling around in bed and resenting your glaring inability to fall asleep. You’re not really sure why you’re still awake after midnight, but you’ve long since given up on trying to solve the mystery that is your body’s biological clock. Smooth satin sheets tickle your bare legs. You groan into your pillow and push yourself up from the mattress, tossing your feet over the edge and shivering softly when they land on the cold hardwood floor.

You wrap yourself up in a thin silk robe; the hem falls only an inch or two above your knees. The rest of the house is silent as you quietly exit your room and pad across the hall. You tiptoe down the spiral staircase; a brief moment later (during which you slip on some comfortable footwear), you’re stepping out into the backyard, greeted by gentle zephyrs and temperate summer air.

As you hop down the porch steps and begin the familiar trek toward the stables, you note the blanket of stars dotting the clear night sky. They twinkle happily, winking at you as though they know something that you don’t.

You shake your head at the thought. They’re stars. Big, flaming balls of gas floating in space, stationed millions of miles away. They know nothing.

Your ears perk up as you approach your destination, struck by the low stream of words carried by the breeze.

“…lilies, and dahlias, too. They tend to bloom during the summer…”

You freeze, feet stalling in the dirt. Leaning in closer, you catch deep murmurs of a faceless voice. The stranger continues to list off different types of flowers; when a soft chuckle laces through the air, your eyes widen in disbelief.

Is that…?

Sure enough, when you creep into the stables, you find Harry standing in front of Artemis’ pen, running his fingers through her shiny mane. His back is to you, shoulder blades flexing beneath the dark button-up adorning his torso. The sleeves reach his biceps, stretching slightly whenever he lifts his arms.

“I’m sorry,” he’s saying as you inch closer, hopelessly engrossed in the pseudo-conversation. “Sugar cubes are a bit of a rarity in my home. I haven’t any others.”

A twig snaps beneath your foot. You wince.

Harry whips around, startled. Upon recognising you, he blows out a heavy breath. Tension leaks from his body, and twin pink spots form on his cheeks. You stare at the blush colouring his face, mesmerized—you’ve never seen him look so dumbfounded.

“Er—,” you say. You raise your hand in an awkward, half-hearted wave. “Hello.”

“Hello,” he replies.

A beat of silence ensues.

“What are you…?” you trail off, trying to keep your voice level. “Were you just—?”

“Yes,” he says quickly. A sheepish chuckle tumbles off his tongue. “I....I understand it, now. Talking to one’s horse is rather soothing.”

“She’s not yours, though.” Your response is blunt, unfeeling.

Harry’s nostrils flare, and his feet scuff against the ground. Now that he’s facing you, you’re able to get a better look at him. A white undershirt peeks out from beneath his button-up, leaving his collarbones exposed. A gold chain glints around his neck, illuminated under the dim light. He’s wearing brown trousers and those same black boots, but you think that he may have polished them, finally, because they’re considerably tidier than before.

“She’s not,” Harry agrees, swallowing nervously. “My sincerest apologies. I can see that I’ve crossed a line—”

You can’t stifle the giggle that bubbles up in your throat. Harry hesitates, fixing you with a bewildered expression. At last, you shoot him a small smile, shaking your head and waving away his regrets.

“I’m only teasing,” you say, chewing on the inside of your cheek. “Breathe, Harry.”

He exhales raggedly, ruffling the curls at the back of his head. “Jesus. You frightened me.”

“Good. Perhaps you’ve finally learned your lesson, then.”

“My lesson?” he echoes, cocking his head to the side. “And what exactly would that be?”

“To avoid sneaking up on others at night,” you say. “Especially if they’re in the midst of conversing with their horse. It’s a very private exchange, you know—endless confessions have been made under this roof.”

Harry laughs.

“I think I’ve supplied my fair share of confessions, tonight,” he says, shrugging nonchalantly. “I can leave you to do the same.”

“No,” you blurt out. “Wait.”

He pauses, shocked by your immediate refutation. You purse your lips as hot shame unfurls in your chest.

“I just meant,” you start, hastening to make amends, “you can stay, if you’d like. Besides—” You shrug. “It’s far more pleasant talking to someone who can actually talk back.”

~*~

“Harry. No.”

“Yes.”

“No. I can’t.”

“Yes, you can. And I’ll be right next to you. I won’t leave your side.”

You gnaw apprehensively on your bottom lip as he frees Artemis from her pen. She trots out and whinnies softly, tossing her head to the side. He shushes her, dragging a comforting palm over her back. You step closer, mirroring his movements and glaring at him with terse, squinted eyes.

“We’ll go slowly,” he says, fixing you with an earnest look. “A few steps at a time. That doesn’t sound too daunting, does it?”

After a long, overwrought moment, you surrender.

“Very well,” you say. You point at him accusatorily, extending your arm over Artemis’ body. “But as soon as I want to stop, we stop. Promise me.”

“I promise.”

Harry leans forward, bumping the pad of your finger with the tip of his nose. The contact makes you gasp. He pauses as well, having realised the implications of the thoughtless action. You swallow heavily; he clears his throat and averts his gaze.

“I’ll get the saddle,” he says.

His heel scrapes loudly against the dry dirt when he turns; you watch as he marches toward the pair of brown saddles hanging on the wooden wall. With a mighty groan, he heaves one from its rusted, metal hook, gathering the leather in his arms before making his way back over to you.

“Thank you,” you murmur shyly.

“You’re very welcome.”

You migrate to the side, petting Artemis’ mane as Harry slips the saddle onto her back. She huffs; you coo at her, holding her face in your hands to keep her calm. Harry spends the next several seconds strapping everything in place. After he’s finished, he gives a gentle tug, ensuring that you won’t slide and fall to the ground once you’re ready to mount.

“All set,” he says, squaring his shoulders.

You glance over at him with wide, frightened eyes. When he meets your gaze, his stoic expression melts into a pool of concern.

“Don’t be afraid,” he says, stepping closer to you.

“I—” Your throat burns. “I haven’t ridden in three years, Harry.”

“I know,” he says solemnly. He offers you his left hand. “Do you trust me?”

Your response is immediate. “I do.”

“Good.” The corners of his lips curl upward. His tone is unreservedly honest when he speaks again. “I won’t let anything happen to you, miss; I swear it.”

You slide your palm against his. A sharp tingle races up your arm, sending your heartbeat into a frenzy. You fight to keep your breathing even as Harry pulls you closer, positioning you in front of him and placing his fingers on your waist.

“Ready?” he murmurs. His breath is hot against the shell of your ear.

You nod.

He grunts as he lifts you. You kick out one leg, slinging it over Artemis’ back and pulling yourself up. Once you’ve settled into a comfortable position, you peer down at him, shoulders taut and ankles locked.

“Breathe,” Harry reminds you. He leads by example, inhaling deeply; you imitate him, trying to ignore the thin sheen of sweat gathered at the nape of your neck.

“What do I do, now?” you ask after a thin stretch of silence.

He chuckles good-naturedly, cocking one eyebrow. “You’ve forgotten?”

“No,” you say indignantly, frowning. “I just—”

You break off when he takes your hands and guides them forward. Your fingers wrap around the reins dangling from Artemis’ neck. You fist the leather firmly, swallowing down the hard lump in your throat. Harry’s nostrils flare as he retracts his arms. You’re fascinated by the way his tongue darts out of his mouth, swiping over his sunburnt lips.

“A few steps at a time,” he says, repeating his former words.

You nod, blowing out a shaky exhale. Gently, you dig your heels into Artemis’ belly and click your teeth. She snorts and takes a step forward; the air is swiftly knocked from your lungs.

“I’m right here,” Harry pipes up. He lays one palm against the back of the saddle, keeping pace. “I won’t let you fall.”

Gradually, you make it out of the stables. The distance can’t be more than fifteen or twenty feet, but it’s a start. You tug softly on the reins, and Artemis stops abruptly. The sudden pause has you lurching forward in your seat. You squeak; quicker than a lightning strike, Harry is there. His hand settles on the small of your back, keeping you steady.

You look down at him, and your gazes lock. Jade eyes gleam beneath the lustrous night sky. His attention falls lower, and only then do you realise that the hem of your robe has ridden up your leg. Most of your thigh is exposed—smooth skin on total display, mere inches from his face. You release an inaudible gasp, shifting your hips to the side so that the silk slips back down.

A muscle in Harry’s jaw twitches enticingly. He removes his touch from your back and turns away.

“Beautiful evening,” he says stiffly, peering up at the stars. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

“Yes,” you whisper. You clear your throat. “I’d like to dismount, now. Would you mind?”

He shakes his head and hums. “Not at all. Hold onto me.”

You place your hands on his shoulders, and he curls his fingertips into your waist. Wordlessly, he lifts you from Artemis’ back. You yelp when your ankle snags on one of the saddle’s leather straps. He stumbles backward, wrapping his arms tightly around your midsection and grunting in surprise. When you eventually regain your footing, your eyes widen at the compromising nature of your position.

Harry is clutching you against his torso, his face buried in your neck. Warm puffs of air leave his lips and coat the column of your throat; the sensation sends shivers down your spine. Your nails dig into his shoulder blades, chest heaving with difficult, onerous breaths.

It’s a stance that should only be shared between lovers, you think. Between a husband and his wife.

Harry is not your husband.

And you are not his wife.

The two of you break apart almost immediately, choking on hasty, half-formed sentences.

“My apologies, miss—”

“No, you needn’t—I should have been more cautious—”

“It’s late; you must be spent—”

“I’m not ready to leave.”

Harry freezes, his jaw agape. Several seconds elapse before he can find it in himself to muster a reply.

“I beg your pardon?” He’s breathless, swept away by your confession.

You shift awkwardly.

“I’m not ready to leave,” you repeat. You clasp your hands behind your back and fix him with an even stare. You hope that he can’t hear the slight quiver at the base of your declaration. “I—I wish to spend more time with you.”

He blinks. “With me?”

You nod. “With you.”

“What…?” He hesitates. “What would you like to do?”

You shrug. “Anything.”

Harry puckers his lips, lost in thought. After a prolonged moment of deliberation, his features light up. “I know a place.”

“‘A place’?” you parrot, brows knitting together.

“A place,” he confirms. “You trust me, do you not?”

“You already know the answer to that question,” you say, scoffing quietly. “I believe I’ve made myself abundantly clear.”

He chuckles. You tug on the sleeves of your robe and grate your slippers into the dirt. Harry watches you with careful eyes.

“Do it now, then,” he says, nodding encouragingly. He holds out his hand once more, beckoning you closer. “Trust me, now.”

You chew on your bottom lip, gracing him with a curt bob of your head. Artemis huffs as you wrap her reins around your wrist and slide your fingers against Harry’s palm. He pats your knuckles gently, guiding them to the crook of his elbow.

“Shall we?” he asks. It’s impossible to read the emotion in his voice.

Your response of endorsement is meek. Gone is the confident woman from a minute ago: the one who stated what she wanted without a second thought. She slips through your grasp easily, disintegrating into a pile of dust and leaving nothing behind.

“We shall,” you choke out.

Harry’s lips twitch with the ghost of a smile, and Artemis’ hooves clunk against the ground as he leads you off into the night.

~*~

“This is so…”

“Nice, isn’t it?”

“‘Nice’?” You spin on your heel slowly, taking in your surroundings. “It’s incredible.”

The water trickling through the creek is crystal clear. A few shiny rocks peek out from the shallow stream, gleaming in the moonlight. You peer up at the stars—hundreds of diamonds, perfectly visible thanks to the large gap of the clearing. Crickets chirp along the edges of the bushes, and yellow-green fireflies ride the breeze.

“How did you find this place?” you breathe.

“It may sound foolish—,” Harry begins. He holds one hand out; you transfer Artemis’ reins into his palm. “—but I can’t remember.”

“Really?” you ask, stunned. You trail after him as he leads your horse to a nearby tree. He loops her leather harnesses around a thick branch, tying a proficient knot and giving it a few experimental tugs. Your gaze remains glued to his hands: the way his fingers work deftly, the way his knuckles flex with each pull—

“Really,” he says. A soft sigh tumbles from his mouth as he steps back. “Come with me.”

You follow him to the middle of the clearing, trying to anticipate his next move. What you don’t expect, however, is for him to drop to his knees. He falls backward, spine meeting the grass with a faint thump. You gasp, staring down at him with wide eyes and parted lips.

“Don’t be afraid,” Harry hums, shooting you a playful smirk. He crosses his arms behind his head—you try to avoid staring at the prominent bulge of his biceps. “The weeds won’t bite.”

“O—Oh,” you stammer, nodding quickly. “Alright, then.”

Daintily, you lower yourself to the ground. He watches you with an amused expression on his face.

“What?” you say, pouting.

“Nothing.” He snickers quietly. You tuck your ankles beneath your thighs as he turns to the side, propping his head up with one hand. “Correct me if I’m wrong, miss, but…I presume that you don’t often make it a point to lay in the grass.”

“That would be an accurate presumption,” you say, laughing softly. Harry smiles.

“You should spend more time outside,” he says absentmindedly. “You’re always cooped up in the house.”

You cock one eyebrow teasingly. “Do you wish to see more of me, Harry?”

“Absolutely not,” he replies, humour evident in his tone. “I am simply trying to instill some sense of adventure into your life.”

The corners of your lips kink upward. In a matter of seconds, however, your delight melts away, replaced by a somberness that you can’t seem to shake.

“I was far more adventurous before the accident,” you murmur, dropping your gaze. You reach out, fiddling with a few blades of grass in an attempt to avoid Harry’s doleful eyes. “Now, I…I’m afraid of everything, it seems.”

Silence hangs in the air between you, filled only by the steady symphony of chirping crickets.

“If I may ask—,” Harry starts, shifting closer. “—what happened?”

You swallow down the lump in your throat. “Artemis shoved me off.”

“She did?”

“It wasn’t her fault!” you say quickly, holding up one hand. “She got spooked, I suppose. And I wasn’t expecting it, so…I fell.”

“What frightened her?” he asks, anxious creases digging into his forehead.

You shrug. “I don’t know. But since then, I’ve been uneasy about riding. If I’m oblivious to what alarmed her the first time, who’s to say that it won’t happen again?”

He nods. “I understand.”

You sigh, plucking a piece of grass from the dirt and twirling it between your fingers. “I wish I could be more like Drew,” you hum distantly. “Someone who throws themselves into their trauma instead of shying away from it.”

Harry’s brows knit together in confusion. “What do you mean?”

You frown. “He—he never told you?”

He shakes his head. “I haven’t a clue. What is it exactly that you’re referring—?”

“Our parents,” you say softly.

Harry’s mouth clamps shut. He inhales deeply, gracing you with a curt nod. You take his silence as an invitation to elaborate.

“They perished in a car accident,” you murmur, looking away. “My father was head of Markham Motors, at the time. He had overlooked a flaw in the latest model, and when they finally took the vehicle out for a drive, it—”

You break off, unable to continue.

Harry reaches forward, covering one of your hands with his. A puff of stale air catches in your throat. You glance down at him timidly, hoping that he can’t identify the flustered distress on your face.

“I’m so sorry,” he tells you, squeezing your fingers tenderly. “That must’ve been awful.”

You exhale shakily. “It was.”

For the next few minutes, the two of you say nothing else. Instead, you melt into your surroundings—the grass brushing your legs, the slow trickle of water in the creek, the dim buzz of fireflies drifting in the wind. At the edge of the clearing, Artemis snorts, lowers her head, and begins to graze.

At last, you decide to break through the stillness.

“Enough about my family,” you say. You recoil, subtly pulling your hand away. Harry is far too distracting. You’re afraid that if he touches you one more time, tonight, your poor heart will give out. “What about you?”

“What about me?” he replies. He settles back into his previous position: spine pressed flush against the ground, arms tucked coolly beneath his head.

“How are you?” you say. “How is your sister, in Paris?”

He peers up at you with raised eyebrows, impressed. “You remembered?”

“Is there a particular reason as to why I shouldn’t?”

Harry chuckles. “No, I suppose not.”

“Well, go on, then.” You rest your chin on your palm. “What is she like?”

“You’re a bossy little thing, aren’t you?”

You scowl. “Harry.”

“Right, right.” He sighs, smiling fondly up at the sky. “She’s…she’s lovely, really. She just got engaged, as a matter of fact. I haven’t met her fiancé, but he’s stellar, based on how she describes him in her letters.”

“That’s wonderful,” you say. Your gaze drifts longingly over the bridge of his nose. “Send her my blessings, will you?”

He glances at you out of the corner of his eye, mouth twisting in a roguish smirk. “I reckon she’d find that a bit odd—the two of you have never met.”

“Oh.” You purse your lips, bashful. “Perhaps you’re right.”

Harry laughs; you’re captivated by the dimples embossed into his cheeks.

“I’m only joking,” he tells you, waving away your concerns. “She’ll appreciate that very much. I’m sure of it.”

You don’t reply. Silence hangs in the air, thick and heavy, until his next words slice through the tension like a knife.

“She and I used to do this almost every night,” he murmurs.

“Do what?”

“Come outside,” he says, shrugging. “Lay on the ground. Stare up at the stars.” His irises glaze over with a forlorn look. “We always raced to see who could find the greatest number of constellations.”

“Really?” You don’t know why you’re so taken aback by his confession.

He nods. “Really.”

“Have you found any, tonight?”

He smiles. “Why don’t you come down here and see for yourself?”

The soil is surprisingly comfortable. You join him, resting your back against the grass and gazing up at the night sky. It’s an endless tapestry of diamonds—sparkling, infinite, beautiful. Your chest swells with a deep, relaxed breath as it all sinks in.

“Anything?” Harry asks expectantly.

You squint. After a long moment, a dejected sigh falls from your lips. “No. I’m not very good at this.”

He laughs. You watch, enthralled, as he lifts one hand and points to your left, singling out a curved cluster of stars.

“See these ones, over here? Shaped a bit like a hook? That’s Scorpius.”

“‘Scorpius’?”

“It means ‘scorpion’ in Latin,” Harry explains. “Scorpius was sent by the gods to kill Orion. He was then placed in the sky to advise mortals against the perils of vanity and pride.”

Vanity and pride.

Vanity and pride.

You bite your lip and turn to the side, tucking a palm under your cheek. The action draws Harry’s attention; he does a double take, stunned by the sudden, close proximity of your bodies. His mouth quirks up into a coy smile as he mimics your position, brows furrowed in diluted mystification.

“What is it?” he asks.

You shift, swallowing heavily.

“I’m afraid that I’ve been unfair to you,” you say softly, gazing straight into his eyes. “I—I’ve misjudged you terribly, and for that, I must apologise. I was a fool.”

“You needn’t—,” he starts, but you press on.

“You are kind,” you say, voice thick with emotion. “You are intelligent, and clever, and you have more class in a single finger than most men have in their entire bodies.”

“Miss—”

“I was wrong about you, and I regret allowing my biases to blind me in such an atrocious manner. Can you ever forgive—oomph!”

Harry’s kiss is passionate, bruising. You stiffen, muscles locking in astonishment. One of his hands rests on the ground, providing balance; the other is on your arm, calloused thumb stroking your skin through the thin silk of your robe. You’re frozen, unable to react, because his lips are on yours, and he’s touching your body, and you’re nearly certain that you’ve died and entered the afterlife.

When Harry pulls away after a few short seconds, he’s stupidly sheepish. His eyelashes flutter open, and his stare immediately floods with remorse.

“I—forgive me,” he stammers, tripping over the words. “That was deplorable. I should have asked—”

Roughly, you grab his face between your palms. His cheeks are soft and smooth, jawline dotted with the faintest hint of stubble. The two of you exchange a look—electric, charged, thrilling. A single, critical moment ensues, during which a distinct quote emerges from the deep recesses of your mind.

A girl likes to be crossed a little in love now and then. It is something to think of. 

The words echo in your head as you abandon all semblance of common sense, yanking Harry in by the collar of his shirt and kissing him again.

      July 14th, 1923

“Quickly! We haven’t got all day!”

“Patience!” you call from the top of the stairs. You guide one last strand of hair into place before hurrying down the flight.

Lydia is waiting for you on the main floor. You set your hands on your hips and fix her with a stern glare, huffing at her eagerness. She sticks her tongue out at you. When you open your mouth to admonish her, she whips around and scurries through the large double doors, disappearing into the backyard.

Upon stepping outside, you find Martin and Andrew already sat on the patio. Lydia settles into one of the chairs around the table, smiling brightly and beckoning you over.

“There you are,” Drew says as you approach. “Beth should be out with dinner any minute now.”

“Do you know what she’s prepared?” you ask, tucking yourself into your seat.

Andrew shrugs and emits a noncommittal sound, clueless.

“Very well,” you sigh, casting a shallow glance across the table. “Good evening, Mister Russell,” you say, tipping your chin in Martin’s direction.

“Good evening.” He beams, tugging on the lapels of his yellow blazer. “Haven’t seen you all day—where have you been hiding?”

You cluck your tongue, tugging nervously at the hem of your dress. “I hardly think it fair for a woman to disclose her spaces of refuge.”

“Stop being so cryptic!” Lydia laughs. She turns to Martin, declaring matter-of-factly, “She was locked up in the library. It’s her favourite room in the entire house.”

Martin hums, diverting his gaze back to you. The expression on his face is indecipherable. “You read?”

You nod. “I do.”

A subtle movement in the periphery of your vision catches your attention. You turn your head to the side, and your heart nearly stops when you spot Harry making his way across the lawn. It appears as though he’s done for the evening, hands caked in grime and shirt speckled with dirt. He steps onto the dusty trail leading into the woods, beginning his journey home.

You haven’t spoken to him since last night—since he kissed you, and then you kissed him, and then the two of you kissed each other until you ran out of air to breathe. He led Artemis to the stables and walked you back to the house just as dawn broke, lighting up the sky with faint hues of pink and blue. You remember sharing a final embrace at the base of the steps before bidding him goodbye, flashing a smile and disappearing inside without another word.

“Would you excuse me?” you say, pushing away from the table and scrambling up out of your seat. “I just—I need to ask Harry about the lilies that he planted yesterday—I’ll only be a moment.”

You scamper off without waiting for a response.

“Harry? Harry!”

He pauses at the call of his name, turning around gingerly. When he spies you hurrying over, his eyes immediately drop to the ground.

You stop in front of him, tilting your head to the side. “Hello.”

“Hello, miss.” He doesn’t lift his gaze. The realisation makes you frown.

“How—how are you?” you ask, licking your lips and clasping your hands behind your back.

“I’m well, thank you. And yourself?”

“I—” Your nostrils flare. “I’m alright. I saw you walking home, and I just wanted to—”

“Forgive me.” Harry cuts you off swiftly. He refuses to look at you, still. “I’m weary. It’s been a long day.”

You recoil slightly, stunned by his candour.

“Of course,” you splutter, nodding. “We were both up quite late last night; time evaded us, I suppose—”

“So, you understand,” he says, stepping back. “I appreciate it. Thank you.”

You open your mouth to stop him, but your voice betrays you. Your chest grows tight when he lifts two fingers to his temple, offering up a half-hearted salute.

“Harry—”

He finally meets your gaze, and something inside of you breaks. His eyes are dull and gloomy, revealing nothing. You want to rush forward, to take his face in your hands and hold him close. To run your nails through his hair and smother him in a flurry of hard, worried kisses. To ask him why he’s acting this way. He had been so happy last night—what changed?

But the others are watching from the patio, and you’re a goddamned coward, and you can’t, you can’t, you can’t.

“Enjoy your dinner, miss,” Harry says. His tone is emotionless—it makes you want to cry. “Take care.”

~*~

PART III: The Month

if you’re enjoying this series so far, please consider donating to my ko-fi! thank you bunches <3

[thewhitejournal]

Just One More Night

Aaron Hotchner x Female!Reader Series

hello everyone! welcome to a new series im starting, this one was actually requested by @art-and-thoughts so shoutout to them. i’ll put their request below so you can read what it’s about, and i hope you all enjoy! :)

plot: Shortly after getting divorced, Hotch needs some sort of distraction from his work and personal life, he ends up meeting a younger girl and they start a casual relationship. He doesn’t want to know much about her than what’s necessary, so they just meet for ~sexy times~ and it works good for both of them for a while. The reader is graduating in communities and criminology; JJ finds out she’s going to have a baby, so she decides to call someone from outside to “coach” and replace her. That’s how the reader ends up at the BAU.

content warnings: smut, cursing, a bit commanding here and there, fingering, oral (male receiving)

-

Finals kicked your ass, that was a fact. You stepped out of the study hall and your tennis shoe met snow, covering the steps to the doors. You kicked yourself internally for not checking the weather, shivers already taking over your body. Snow went flying from the ground as you rushed to your car, a sheet of it falling off the roof when you slammed the door. The cold didn’t necessarily bother you, but not dressing appropriately for it did. Your car sputtered to life when you turned the key in the ignition. While you tried warming yourself up and while you waited for the defrost to kick in, you checked your phone.

The cold metal of the thing wasn’t exactly comforting, but your notifications were coming in at record speed. The group chat you and your roommate and the friends you’d met since last year made together kept bombarding you with who’s typing and who’s already said something. A little part of you dreaded opening it, knowing you were probably fully behind on whatever was happening.

They loved you, that’s for sure. But they always teased you for being ‘addicted to school’, and that you needed help for your addiction. You couldn’t help you were devoted to your future, the career at the FBI looking closer every day. It’s always been your goal. More specifically, you wanted to be a profiler. Ever since you started researching career paths and colleges in your senior year of high school, it stuck with you. You wanted it, and when you found something you wanted, you weren’t giving up until you had it. Hell, you’d just got done reviewing the subjects for next semester.

A sigh escaped your lips as you opened the chat. The rundown of it was that they wanted to get together for drinks to celebrate the end of the semester. You weren’t much of a party person, but you knew it wasn’t an option for you since they said they would be meeting there in half an hour. All you wanted to do was go back to the dorm and pass out, but you figured, why the hell not? You knew you deserved a break; one night couldn’t hurt.

After making the short drive to the dorms about half a mile away, you turned the car off and hurried inside. You came in with a bluster of cold air, kicking off your wet shoes next to the door. Your roommate was getting ready in the bathroom; her favorite ‘hype’ music was playing and you could smell the hairspray from the front door.

You didn’t have time to shower, and you figured it was fine since you had one this morning. So you fixed yourself up, doing a little more makeup and slipping into the outfit your friend picked out for you. You stepped into the bathroom next to her to fix your hair.

“(Y/N), going out without bitching? Are you feeling alright?” She teasingly put the back of her hand to your forehead as if to feel for a fever. You rolled your eyes, smacking her hand away. Both of you shared a laugh. Within minutes, you two were ready to go. You piled into your car, which was still a little warm, and started driving to the bar they picked out.

Once you were inside, you saw your other friends waiting for you, drinks already on their table. They waved you over as if you couldn’t see them; they were already tipsy. A smile grew on your lips as you and your friend walked over to them, happy to see your friends happy.

“To this shitty semester finally being over!” Your roommate toasted, a shot already in her hand. She was holding one out to you, and you took it, clinking your glass with the other girls before downing it. After sitting and talking and laughing and drinking for a while, you started surveying the bar and its patrons. Your curious gaze fell on a table of men, one of them significantly older than the rest. He had a glass of whiskey in front of him. His hands that donned a huge ring with an insignia that you couldn’t make out were gesturing in the air like he was telling a story.

The man standing next to him looked to be about your age, maybe older. He was a skinny little thing, listening intently to the older man’s story with a smile on his face. He looked like he was drinking some kind of sparkling water. The other guy was buff, wearing a tight, grey t-shirt. Dark brows on his forehead danced with emotion as the story went on. His smile was huge; he had some beautiful teeth for a guy. A beer dangled casually in his hand.

The fourth man was unlike the rest of them in his own way. He was wearing a brown pullover and dark jeans, his short black hair gelled and styled. His fingers twirled a whiskey glass on the table, and it was about empty. You noticed a tan line on his ring finger, but no ring. This was intriguing. A Rolex shined on his right wrist. He had a small smile on his face, adding to the story here and there and laughing. You couldn’t hear it, but you were sure it sounded lovely. His brown eyes crinkled when he smiled.

“(Y/N), what the hell are you staring- oh, I see. The skinny one?” Your roommate Rachel asked you, her gaze fixed on the men now, too. She looked at him like she was a lion and he was a gazelle, and it was dinner time. You chuckled, shaking your head.

“No, Rach. Don’t worry about it.” She gave you a knowing look like you weren’t getting away with it that easy. Her body turned towards you, and she leaned on the table. Her brows furrowed.

“Which one, then? Cause brown jacket’s been making eyes on you since you walked in.” She stated. You turned to face her, your eyes widening.

“Oh my god, can you keep your fucking voice down?”, you hissed under your breath. You tried looking over at them inconspicuously, to see if they’d heard, but you couldn’t tell. You felt the blush creeping up your neck and onto your cheeks. A sly smile made its way to her face. She giggled.

“It’s him, isn’t it?” She prodded your arm, laughing. You tried to play it cool, trying to make her calm down, but it wasn’t working. She burst into laughter, nearly doubling over so hard she about fell into the floor. God, she was drunk. You glanced over at the table, and you swore you saw him looking over, but only for a second.

Butterflies started roaring inside of you, in your stomach and even wandering lower. It was like nothing you’d ever felt before. The liquid courage started flowing through your veins, your heart pumping in your chest. You might’ve gone over and said, or ever did, something if you were a hundred percent sure he was interested. But you weren’t. Rachel eventually recovered from her laughing fit, leaning on you like you were the only thing holding her up. You steadied her as best as you could.

“Rachel, you should drink some water. You’re wasted.” You rubbed her arm, a concerned look on your face. She stared at you for a second, copying the look on your face.

“Fine,” she slurred, “You need the courage more than me anyway.” Your brows furrowed, giving her an inquisitive look. She giggled, covering her mouth when she let a snort out. “Because...look behind you…”, she whisper-said, falling on your other friend to her left. You felt your heart speed up in your chest, your body turning on your heel.

The man was sauntering over to you, his friends cheering him on behind him. He was laughing and shaking his head. You chewed on the inside of your cheek as he got closer. Fuck, he was tall. That smile on his lips made you blush, and the look in his eyes said more than words ever could.

When he finally reached you, he slipped an arm around your waist and leaned down to whisper in your ear. He smelled like pine and leather, and you felt your body tense up. There’s no way this was happening. The hottest guy in the bar, picking you out of the crowd? This never happened.

“Wanna get out of here?” He smelled like alcohol, but you were sure you did too. It took everything in you not to moan at the mere rasp of his voice. You hummed in an affirming tone as a response. This wasn’t like you, but you didn’t care. He was hot and the looks he gave you alone were enough to get you soaking wet. He took your hand eagerly, pulling you out the door and towards a black SUV. The plates on the front looked like government plates, but surely not. The car wasn’t your focus at the moment, anyway.

He shoved you against the passenger door, somehow rough and gentle at the same time, his arms on either side of your waist. It took the breath out of you, but you were breathless already so it was hard to tell just how much of an effect it had on you. His dark eyes looked like those of a hungry predator, tracing all over your face and body. He licked his lips, eyes flickering from your eyes to your lips.

“Do you wanna do this?”, he asked you in a low and sultry voice. You put your hands on the sides of his face, nodding. You leaned forward and closed the gap between the two of you, pressing your body to his, along with your lips. His hand pulled your waist to his body, the other hand getting lost in your hair. He moaned against your lips, and you felt yourself twitch in your underwear. God, he was so fucking hot.

“Good, get in.”, he commanded. You’d never been talked to like that. Your pussy twitched again, and you had to hold back a whimper. He opened the back door for you, and you crawled inside. The backseat was spacious, which was quite useful for what was about to happen. He settled himself in the seat and shut the door behind him, locking the car and pulling you into his lap, his back against the door.

He smashed his soft, pink lips onto yours, his tongue twirling with yours. His lips left yours and he started trailing rough kisses down your neck, his teeth grazing your collarbone. You craned your neck back to give him more room, a little moan slipping from your lips. “Oh, you like that, baby?”, he asked you against your skin, his fingers slowly pulling down the straps of your dress onto your shoulders.

“Wait…”, you breathed out, and he pulled away. He asked if he’d done something wrong, an apologetic look in his eyes. He’s hot and respectful? Fuck. “No, I… I just want to know your name.” He chuckled deeply.

“Aaron. What’s yours, honey?” God, that voice was the death of you. You were surprised he couldn’t feel how wet you were through his jeans.

“(Y/N).” A smile grew on your lips, as did on his.

“Nice to meet you, (Y/N).”, he whispered, leaning into you again and kissing you. You slid your heels off and heard them clatter on the floor, kissing him back, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing yourself against him. Your legs fell over his waist, straddling him. He hummed contently against you, his huge hands resting on your waist.

Instinctively, you moved your hips against his jeans, a moan slipping through your lips. His hands fell to your thighs, hastily moving them under your dress to play with the hem of your panties. You whimpered, and he pulled away, looking you in the eyes.

“You want these off, (Y/N)?”, he purred in your ear.

“Fuck, yes, Aaron, please…” You were a mess, but you didn’t care. You just wanted him so bad, and you didn’t even know him. His fingers tugged at them, pulling them down your thigh and shoving them in his pocket, a sly smile on his face.

“Come here, baby.” You obliged, sliding your hands under his shirt as you kissed him roughly. He bit your lip, a yelp coming from you and a deep chuckle from him. The two of you parted for only a second so that his jacket and shirt could come off. You admired his skin in the faint light from a nearby streetlight. Something that stood out to you was all the scars on his stomach. You leaned down and kissed every single one of them, undoing his belt in the process. You could feel how hard he was through his jeans. He moaned, his head hitting the window. “Fuck, you’re so hot…” His voice sounded so attractive when he was hot and bothered.

His hands pulled you suddenly back into his lap, hands resting on your bare ass. “Your turn first.” His thumb had no problem finding your pulsing clit, and he started rubbing circles just the way you liked. You gasped, moaning and burying your face in his neck. He moaned too, pushing a finger inside you and pumping back and forth. “You’re so wet for me, (Y/N).” You couldn’t speak; the power he held over you was insane. He kissed your neck so roughly you knew it would leave bruises that you’d have to cover up. Good thing it was scarf season.

He added another finger, and you started riding him; you were a moaning and sloppy mess. You put your hands on his strong shoulders to steady yourself, and he moved his fingers faster. The knot in your stomach tightened, and you could hardly breathe. Your eyes rolled back into your head and all you could feel was his hot chest against you and his long fingers inside you as you rode out your orgasm on them. He pulled them out, and you instantly missed the feeling. You whined at the empty feeling.

“You want to clean them off or should I?” You could barely focus on his words, your pussy still pulsing.

“I want you to taste me.”, you breathed out. Without hesitation, he licked his fingers clean, amber eyes rolling into his skull and a guttural moan coming from deep inside him. You got turned on again just from that vision itself. He pulled your dress off of you and threw it on top of your panties on the floor. He hungrily stared at your chest, sucking on your nipple and playing with the other. Your hips bucked against the leather of the seat, a groan slipping from the both of you.

“Lie down.” You did as you were told, lying down on your back. He unzipped his jeans and kicked them off, but not before pulling a condom out of the back pocket. His dick was pushing against the thin fabric of his boxers. Fuck, he’s huge. Of course, he is. Going against orders, you sat up and looked up at him, taking him into your mouth. He groaned, pulling your hair back away from your face. “(Y/N), holy shit…” He thrust into your mouth, but you didn’t mind it. Your hands stroked his dick for what your mouth couldn’t take.

You pulled away, knowing he was ready. His light brown eyes from inside the bar were now pitch black, his chest heaving and sweat beading on his forehead. You put your hand behind his head and pressed your lips into his, and he moaned against you. You could feel his dick pressing onto the inside of your thigh, and your hips naturally started riding it. He wasn’t inside you yet, just slipping against you. Your nails dug into his back, the feeling too much to take. His hands held your waist so tight you think he might leave bruises, but that didn’t matter.

Hurriedly, he pulled the condom on his dick and made sure you were ready and willing before he started fucking you. Slowly at first, he thrust what felt like halfway inside you. He filled you up so nicely, like the two of you were made for each other. “Fuck, Aaron, just like that…”, you breathed out into his ear, moaning and rocking on top of him. He helped you stay steady as you took all of his dick, and he started speeding up. You held onto him like he was your last breath, and his wandering hand found your clit again, rubbing those familiar circles on it. He started sucking on your neck again, and you could feel him twitching inside you. You came not a second later.

You rode it out, seeing stars. He was breathing heavily, kissing your lips as softly as he did before you started. You kissed him back with what little energy you had left. “That was…”, he whispered, looking into your eyes. “Amazing. You’re amazing.”, he finished his thought.

“Wanna do this again sometime?”, you asked him shyly. He smirked at you. “Sorry, that was-“

“I do, (Y/N). Get dressed, I’ll drive you home.” You smiled at him, and he returned one. You didn’t worry about your phone or purse; one of your friends would grab them. He was dressed quickly and got out of the backseat, closing the door behind him and walking around the front of the car to get in the driver’s seat. You pulled your dress back on, along with your shoes.

The lack of Aaron’s body heat made you realize how cold it was this late into the night. You crossed your arms over your body, trying to make yourself as warm as possible. He motioned for you to get in the front seat, so you did, getting out of the car. The parking lot was almost empty, and it was snowing. You opened the passenger door, climbing in.

“Are you cold?”, he asked. He was warming the car up, turning dials and making sure it was getting defrosted. Not that it needed to do much work with all the heat you two made. You looked over at him; the caring look returned in his eyes. He looked handsome in the dim light of the center console. You nodded, and he pulled his jacket off and handed it to you. You gladly took it, his smell wafting around you when you slid it on. You told him where your dorms were, and he didn’t seem to mind that you were still in university.

The two of you drove in comfortable silence, the white flakes whizzing past the windows as he drove. Thoughts flooded your head about what had just happened, and how you felt about him. You couldn’t fall for him, but you had a feeling you could at some point if you weren’t careful. Unbeknownst to you, Aaron was having the same thoughts.

He parked outside your building, and he gave you his number and you gave him yours. You started taking the jacket off, and he stopped you. “Keep it. It’s cold out there.” You gave him a small smile and thanked him, and he pressed one last kiss to your lips before you got out of the car. He made sure you got inside the building before driving off. You watched the black SUV pull off in the white flurries outside. The plates caught your eye again; those were US government plates, for sure.

What the hell have you gotten yourself into?

[missallsundayyy]

Breaking Boundaries

First oneshot for my first post here and there’s no better ship/pair i’d rather write than Nico Robin & Roronoa Zoro

Things were lively on the Sunny Go as usual. Franky was upgrading the canons on the ship, Chopper and Ussop were being...well...being them as usual. Luffy was bugging Sanji in the kitchen asking/whining when was lunch going to be served and in his words.

"foooooooood SANJIIIIIIIIIIIII!!" the famous straw hat captain yelled from the other side of the kitchen.

"SHUT UP YOU RUBBER GLUTTON"

Nami was focusing on the weather and the sea behavior, navigating the crew to their next destination whilst Brook was beside her asking if he could see her panties in which he received a punch that sent him flying through the ship's walls. Thus starting a fight with the shipswright that was just beside the wall that was destroyed.

"WATCH WHERE YOU LAND ASSHOLE!!!" Franky screamed out.

"Yohoho!! don't get your panties in a twist Franky-sannn"

Aside from all the chaos was the crew's infamous swordsman, Zoro whom was doing impossible training once again. Lifting weights that no humans could ever lift.

"890...891...892.."

He grunts out in training, muscles flexing, his body coated with sweat. He did this everyday at the same spot the moment the sun starts to rise until Sanji calls them for lunch. Not far from the green-haired man.....well in fact maybe 5metres away from him was the ship's beautiful archeologist Nico Robin. Seated as usual on her umbrella armchair with a book on hand. 

She was wearing her spaghetti strap purple tank top that did no effort to cover her large breast and a very small tight fitting jean shorts. It was a very hot day at that, she had put her hair up in a ponytail which was rare because usually she prefered her hair down. Even though it was scorching hot outside and she could just retreat into her room where it would definitely be cooler but it was out of habit that she situated herself here when she read.

She’s elated to be where she was right now. Doing what she loved and surrounded by nakamas that accepted her, cared for her, protected her and loved her. She would give her life 100 million times over for the Straw Hats without a second thought. Back at Enies Lobby she was afraid that that they would find her a burden, a thorn in the flesh even when they proved that they will fight the whole world fearlessly for her. Comparing then and now she was flabbergasted at how many things have changed. Everyone has gotten stronger, more matured. The bond Robin shared with the crew was strong that not even God can sever it, that she was certain for.

Her mind wandered everywhere and anywhere, she wasn't even focusing on the book she was reading anymore. She summarised everything in her head with a content look on her face.

The sounds of Zoro's grunting and counting snapped Robin back to reality, her eyes diverted to the green haired crew member. Her eyes shamelessly stared at his god like body that was now glistening in sweat due to the monstrous work out he does everyday. His muscles was amazing, his abs was rock hard and his chest looked like steel plates had been implanted in him. His face was fierce and focus, never losing concentration.

Zoro was a very very veryyy handsome man, that was what Robin had always thought even when she first joined the crew. She knew he was a very powerful man and a dangerous one at that, the crew was blessed to have such interesting and indestructible members and Roronoa Zoro was one of them. He had many cons to him...well according to Nami and Sanji's list. He sleeps too much, he was too direct with his words so more often than not he always comes off as an "asshole". He drinks too much when he isn't sleeping or training and to top the icing on the cake, he couldn't find his way to the ship's toilet even if his bladder depended on it.

Robin however found him to be interesting as hell and even charming most times. How he was always the calm one amongst all of them and he was a very wise man that stick by his words. He was a strong man with honour and pride. He will no doubt be the type to keep a promise even if will be his demise. Robin didn't know she had a type until she met Zoro, the more time she has with the swordsman the larger her attraction for him grew.

Having a lover has never came across her mind, not that she wasn't interested in intimate relations before, it just never came up until she found herself glancing at him more than she should. Also the automatic position of their area happened to be beside each other every day so there was not much of a choice in that matter. She snapped back yet again to reality still staring at the handsome swordsman, she wouldn't admit it but internally she was swooning over his very very shredded body.

"Oi oi Robin, your staring is bothering me. You should read at your room today, your face is red from the weather right now."  Zoro called out to Robin who was unintentionally caught gawking at him although being the dense man he was, he of course would have not though that she was checking him out.

Zoro had placed all this training equipments down and was now walking towards the self fantasising historian that still had her eyes glued onto him. He walked a few steps towards Robin and stood beside her, taking her lemonade drink right from her side table and gulping all of it down with greed-thirst sounds.  This was another normal thing between them, she would have her drink but she would never drink any of it because before she could, he would always finish it up unless she had coffee. He never did understood how she could swallow the damn bitter beverage. She also was starting to think that subconsciously she would bring the drink for him instead of her.

"Zoro-kun. Sorry for bothering your training  but I don't mind a little heat today and besides the weather has been quite gloomy these past weeks, don't you agree?" Robin held her face with her palm, her usual signature posture. She now sat upright never breaking her stare.

"Rain or shine won't hinder me from my training." Zoro stated simply.

"Fufufu, yet my staring has disturbed your workout?" Robin teased him.

"Tch. You've been doing that a lot lately woman." he turned his head away, folding his arms. Ever since the crew reunited after being seperated for two years, Zoro had noticed Robin's change the most. She had gotten stronger, wiser and more matured in many different aspects.

She would tease him or outsmart him in their little chats which irate the man but in a good way.

"I was thinking if I could company you on watch today if you don't mind." Robin asked hopefully.

Zoro turned his head back to her "Sure. You can do can do whatever you want woman. Let's go to the kitchen already, bet that love cook will start yelling for us anytime soon." he was already walking towards the kitchen but in a pace that told her that he would be walking with her and not just leaving her like that. She smiled and followed him.

"ROBIN CHWANNN! You're looking veryyyyy SEXYYY TODAY!! The lunch I have prepared for you today is just as hot and spicy as you are!!!" Sanji greeted Robin that had walked in with Zoro whom by the way Sanji had not scoop his share onto a plate yet.  Robin smiled at the flirtatious cook.

"That's very kind of you cook-san, this looks delicious. As always your culinary skills are impressive." Robin replied politely, frankly only Robin would acknowledge Sanji's aggressively manic compliments. 

"Tch. Stupid love cook." Zoro muttered under his breath which didn't went unheard by the cook of course.

"What??? YOU WANNA GO ASSHOLE?"

"I WON'T WASTE MY TIME WITH THE LIKES OF YOU"

"YOU'RE JUST JEALOUS THAT ROBIN IS COMPLIMENTING ME INSTEAD OF YOU"

"WHY WOULD I BE JEALOUS OF YOU, YOU'RE A BIGGER CLOWN THAN THAT RED NOSE BUGGY"

The fight between the two men continued while the crew watched on amused, nothing new on the ship.

"HEY LUFFY THAT'S MY FRUIT PUNCH DON'T DRINK IT"

"Cmmonnnnnn Chopper give me some, I'm lazy to go refill..."

Chopper and Luffy both had their hands on the cup that was filled with the cool drink and they both were playing tug rope with the cup and well unfortunately for them the cup had tipped and all of its contents is now spilling at the person that was sitting in the middle of them. That person was......Robin.

*SPLASH*

The room was now silent, Sanji and Zoro's bickering was on hold because of the light spill sound that interrupted everyone.

"Oh shit.." Franky muttered

The red beverage was now seeping through Robin's tank top. Her chest and thighs was now covered with the sweet drink and it was dripping. Robin looked down at her now soiled clothing.

"Oh my.." was all she said.

"Robinnn....im sorry!! I didn't..we didn't mean to ruin your clothes!!" Chopper started exclaiming, feeling guilty. "OI LUFFY! This is your fault you know!! APOLOGISE TO ROBIN NOW!"

Luffy had one hand behind his head, scratching while having a goofy grin "Sorry Robin it was an accident...please don't be mad"

"SERIOUSLY. Why can't the men in this crew behave like proper men in FOR ONCE! You guys are barbaric and I don't know how two beautiful women like me and and Robin got stuck with you guys!!" This time the screaming and yelling was now coming from the ship's navigator.

Robin wasn't mad, in fact she enjoyed all their shenanigans. The crew made life fun, they make her feel alive and everyday she will always have a smile on her face. "It's okay Luffy its okay Chopper. I will go and change into a new shirt." she said with a laughter.

"Well there you go Nami, you heard Robin. She's not mad so I don't see why you're all worked up." Franky joined in to which he received a death glare from the money obsessed pirate.

In the midst of the whole conversation Zoro had been staring at Robin's wet stained shirt accident. Everyone was too busy bickering with each other they had failed to notice that the water just made Robin's voluptuous figure even more prominent. The outline of her huge breast could be seen through the god damn tank top and the fruit punch was still dripping down her cleavage and most of it had splashed onto her thick thighs.

He didn't know what he was doing but he liked what he was seeing. Robin was a beautiful woman and he knew that. She had the perfect curves and her assets were anything but small. She had matured into a sexy woman and he could never deny that. The sight that she had unintentionally presented him with was very fucking pleasing to his eyes. His eyes glued to her soft skin and the way the water would drip down her cleavage because she was laughing and causing her chest to move tentalizingly. He knew she wasn't doing it on purpose but she was sexy without even trying. He shook his head and tried to clear the dirty thoughts that was now forming in his mind 'Why the hell am I thinking about her like that' his mind yelled at him.

"Well excuse me, I am going to take a bath since the punch has made my body all sticky now." Robin stood up and walked towards the door. Sanji on the other hand had knock both Luffy and Chopper's head while yelling something like 'Look what you guys did!' 'Robin-chan's lunch is ruined' 'assholes'

-BOOOOOOOOOMMM-

A loud crash was heard 1 minute after Robin had exited the kitchen. Zoro and Sanji both had dashed out of the door in a fighting stance-run. 

"Whats' going on now!!" Nami yelled.

"Looks like Luffy fell asleep" Franky muttered in half disbelief and half lazed tone.

"ROBIN CHANNN!! ARE YOU OKAY?" Sanji yelled frantically.

Zoro had drawn his katana out ready to slice anyone whom had dared to attack their ship and more importantly Robin.

"So this is the infamous Strawhat crew everyone has been talking about?? You don't seem much if i managed to cuff your deliciously beautiful crewmate here. If i know you guys had such a sexy pirate lady, we would have attacked you sooner!" The malicious voice came from Captain Deck from the Sink Pirates; notorious for sinking every ship they come across with. He was however not interested in woman and was quick to carry Robin and throwing her off the Sunny Go to everyone's horror.

"ROBIN NNNN!!" Chopper and Nami's voiced chorus together,

"ROBIN -CHWANNNN! YOU SHITTY BASTARD HOW DARE YOU TOUCH THE LADIES OF THIS SHIP I WILL POUND YOU UNTIL YOUR INSIDES COME OUT ASSHOLE!!" Sanji shouted with fire engulfing his whole body.

Zoro of course had already jumped in right after Robin was thrown into the sea. His first priority was definitely saving his nakama. Slicing every last one of his enemy would later be the second priority. He dived deep and because he immediately jump in right when Robin was thrown in, she hadn't sink too far for his vision. She was still conscious, eyes wide with shocked with everything that has transpired. He could understand her fear, you can be the strongest fighter with the best abilities but its all over if you get thrown into the water. Her hands was desperately reaching for Zoro. She knew she was safe, drowning in the sea or not, she had her nakama protecting her and always having her back.

He grabbed Robin's hand and pulled her into his body and quickly swam back up in full speed. When they reached the surface, he found himself swimming to an island, the Sunny Go and his crewmates were no where in sight. Now he was just confused, how the hell did he got all the way here now. He now carried Robin bridal style whilst walking on shore since she was weakened by the effects of the sea water.

He lay her down on the grass part of the island and stood up to survey their foreign surroundings.

"Oi woman you okay?" he asked her with concern although he wasn't facing her. Robin who now had herself up on her feet.

"Thank you Zoro-kun, i'm better now." Robin said smiling even if he wasn't looking to see it. "However, seems like we're stranded in here. How did you find this island?" she was already walking around surveying the flowers, sand, grass and anything that might tell her where they were. He scratched the back of his head, "I don't know how we end up here, my priority was only getting you out of the sea and next thing i know, i got us here." he said with a tone of frustration.

'ara...so this is how he looks like whenever we get seperated' Robin's amusing thoughts caused her to laugh behind him. He snapped his head to her "What's so funny woman" to which Robin smile "Nothing. Lets explore this island together, i'm sure Luffy and the others are already nearby." she suggested to which Zoro just grunted in agreement.

The both of them then ventured into the thick jungle of the island.

Meanwhile back at the Sunny Go.

"Geez you can definitely count on Zoro to be lost even when the ship was right above him." Franky grumbled while the crew set sailed for the island Ussop had spotted.

"That shitty asshole took Robin-chwann away! IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN ME THAT SAVED HER AND WOULD PROBABLY BE ON THAT ISLAND WITH A VERY WET RO-" Sanji fainted from nose-bleed before he could finish his sentence.

"SANJIIIIII!!!" Chopper ran towards his perverted nakama.

"Leave him to die Chopper, he propably don't mind dying" Nami said while shaking her head.

"YOSH! FULL SPEED AHEAD TO THAT MEAT ISLAND MEN!" Luffy yelled to his crewmates.

"Oi oi what do you mean meat island" Ussop replied, "And we can leave stupidity to our captain. Zoro and Robin are missing and there he goes thinking about food" he finished leaving Nami and Chopper nodding their heads vigorously. Luffy laughed "Don't worry! They're strong and i'm not worried."

-BACK TO THE UNKNOWN ISLAND-

"Perhaps the plants here spit poison that could kill you in a second or maybe the soil might swallow you whole the moment you step on it." Robin said voicing her thoughts outloud.

"Oi Robin stop saying things like that." Zoro chastised the historian for always saying dark things.

"Fufufu sorry Zoro-kun." Robin giggled into her palm. 

"By the way......” he started “Robin,i'mgladyou'refineafter2years."

Zoro managed to choke all the words out as fast as he could. He was not one with sweet words but he somehow felt that before the seperation he was very cold with Robin out of all the members of the crew.

It had to do with the whole ‘Miss All Sunday’ business but now when he looked at her, it was as if everything in the past didn't matter anymore.Robin on the other hand was taken aback by his words, she would be lucky to get a grunt out of the swordsman but he was initiating a conversation first and to top that off, he was telling her how he was glad that SHE was okay.

"I'm happy to hear that. You've grown handsomely in two years Zoro-kun" She replied him with a genuine smile. His face instantly reddened from embarasssment. There she goes again, he thought. Always saying things like that and now he looks like a cat just bit his tongue.

"W..we..well you'vegrownbigtoO!"

Robin laughed aloud "Are you saying that i’m fat Zoro-kun?" she stopped abruptly nearly making him crash behind her.

"What!" he panicked. Now these are one of her antics to get him all flustered.

"You said i've grown big, so does that mean I’m fat to you Zoro-kun?" She asked him with an innocent smile, teasing him was her favourite things to do.

"You know what I mean woman." Zoro grunted frustratedly, face still heated up. She? Fat? Farrr from it he thought. Her figure was amazing, perfect if he may be so bold to say.

"So after 2years of not seeing me, thaaat....is the only thing you noticed? I think cook-san has influenced you abit." This has got to definitely get THE reaction Robin was waiting for.

“IM NOTHING LIKE THAT SHITTY BASTARD OF A COOK AND YOU KNOW IT WOMAN!!" Robin laughed at his predictable reaction. "I'm joking Mr Swordsman." And there the nicknames comes again, this woman knew how to push his buttons well.

Then Robin did the unthinkable, she put her hands on her waist and came closer to Zoro and with a low sultry voice with a pose that would drive Sanji into his grave from nosebleed.

"So am I big enough or is there anything else I can change....for you Zoro-kun" Robin said suggestively. She have to admit whilst she finally have people to call her nakama she needed more. She wants that intimate attention just like every  woman. Intimacy wasn’t something she even had time for in the past, it never crossed her mind to romance with men. Now that she’s comfortable and know she has a place to call home, why the hell not.

Now he was just as red a beet, he didn't know why Robin was being flirty with him. She was usually the quiet one, calm, collected and only commented on things when it was necessary. Then again she was the only woman ironically that he didn’t mind invading his personal space. She and him was always in the same room in the ship every damn time and it wasn’t even planned nor did they ever agreed to always have each other’s back. He had always protected Robin, he would be there, ready to cut her enemies. Just like on sky island and fishmen island, as long as he’s around her he will put his life on the line for her

It wasn’t that he wouldn’t do the same for the crew but when he does save her, he feels something for her, he don’t know what he felt but he felt his pride and ego semi boosted from it. It was as if he wanted to impress her and show off how strong he was when she was around him. Maybe because all her life she was used to everyone betraying her or maybe she never had anyone protecting her. If she needed him to tell her that she wanted his protection, he would proudly declare that he will always protect and care for her.

Since she was graciously being so near him, his good eye clearly did not miss everything Robin had to offer. She was obviously testing the waters like this and eventhough he wasn't THAT type of man but he will be THAT if she wants it so bad. He will gladly play along with her game afterall he didn't enjoy being dominated like this.

Zoro grabbed Robin's waist roughly and pressed her figure with his hard and he brought his mouth against her ears.

"You better stop that Robin because i don’t think I can stop myself after this " Zoro growled with his grip tightening on her waist and back. That was an indefinite warning, he was ready to drop the whole ‘nakama’ thing and fuck her right there if she insisted on being a minx. Amazing that they had the whole island to themselves, amazing that his bad sense of direction got just the both of them alone, amazing that his crew wasn’t here to interrupt this moment and lastly Nico Robin was and amazing woman. His mind was flooded with thoughts of her and he thought he was going insane.

“I don’t want you to stop Zoro.” Her voice was filled with want, need, lust and when he looked into her eyes he knew that she only wanted HIM and he was the only one she trusted her body with. Right now her eyes was an open book and he could read every thoughts she had going through in her head.

Mentally he was battling a war, he shouldn’t be indulging in this but he knew he wanted this so bad he could kill someone.

 “Not here Robin.” It had took all of his will power to seperate him and Robin, all that lust and need. Trust him he really wanted to take her right there and then but... “Fufufu, that’s very considerate and sweet of you.”

[akampana]

im the anon who asked for obscure artoria ships - tysm for answering! i knew you liked kojiro/artoria from early tpof, but ozymandias/artoria was unexpected! ozytoria sounds interesting from the way you describe it - ive always sort of seen it as an almost-giltoria dynamic minus the hostility and antagonism. i think that modern au idea sounds incredibly sweet 😭 honestly i like the idea of them but there is virtually no fancontent OR canon content of them (besides that one lartoria comment in ozy's interlude?) so its a half-built ship for me as of now. and yes, please talk about kojiro/artoria for the ship game! i'd love to see more of your thoughts on them. on nobu/artoria - YES nobu is incredibly beautiful its crazyyy. i got into shipping them because of mastoria/nobu in koha-ace, interactions in fgo and a user's thoughts on them here on tumblr (you can find them if you search up nobutoria).

Hi, @glowingarchive! good to see you in the inbox. :)

Oh, no way, really? Thought I was being subtle with Kojirou apparently not XD. And your thoughts on Ozy and Arturia, I totally agree. If you want, I made art for them a while ago, but didn't end up posting it.

*cracks knuckles* Alright, let's go.

Kojirou Sasaki X Arturia Pendragon - SHIP IT

What made you ship it?

This is gonna sound strange, but do hear me out.

My love for this ship evolved from the first time it caught my attention, but to be completely honest it all started with another ship: Diarturia.

After re-watching and re-reading FZ, FSN, and UBW, something kept coming up for me. We all know FZ is an incredible prequel sequel, created with stunning precision to fit the already existing narrative, which is why, even when consuming the series as a whole based on the timeline of events, Arturia's character still makes sense.

Their expert craftmanship made the fact that the 5th HGW is Saber's second attempt a lot clearer. Why? because it brings to the table a theme that was already there and yet not too fleshed out:

Deja vu. Or, in Saber's case, a double deja vu.

For example, this line:

Before Zero, it only means 'oh cool so she's fought spearmen before.' but after Zero, you finally know exactly who she's talking about.

But why do I say it's a double deja vu for her?

Let's begin with the obvious one. The parallels between Cú and Diarmuid are pretty clear. Like you just know Zero Lancer's character was patterned after the existing Lancer, but given another purpose. There are gifsets all over Tumblr that illustrate their similarity too.

BUT Cú and Arturia (ooh it kills me to say this) only just fall short of the borderline flirtatious "I wanna have a glorious fight to the death with you because you're worthy" energy. Furthermore, they meet only briefly.

So where did they get that?

Kojirou bloody Sasaki

More below the cut.

It's parallel time. (there are a few more but hnggg tumblr limits)

THEY PROTECC. THEY ATTAC. BUT MOST IMPORTANTLY THEY WANNA FIGHT HER BACK.

No, but seriously. I don't think this is a coincidence. Diarmuid must have been some sort of amalgamation of Kojirou and Cú, the best of both. And that is also why the previous deja vu point hits harder.

Honestly, when that realization came, I was totally not expecting it. I was supposed to be looking for Diarturia crumbs and instead I found myself another whole-ass cookie. And one that unjustly has barely anything in the fandom, even if we have more straightforward lines like this:

Which is, by the way, one of the answers to the next question.

What are your favorite things about the ship?

So, now that you know how I got into shipping this, unorthodox as it seems, I think it's time to move past the parallels and into more solid ground.

Unlike other relationships that are more ambiguous and rely on potential, Kojirou's attraction to her is so in your face, it's refreshing.

Their banter is *chef's kiss*

It's only overshadowed because he so quickly became a gag servant, and ofc because the focus of the anime was Shirou. (Why did they do him like that though, he's actually so cool??? I mean, did Saber truly even beat him?? like???)

Saber comments on his skill with the sword, going so far as to say he outclasses him in swordsmanship. bruh, you can't take that lightly

They both see each other as worthy opponents. She literally tells him he's worthy of her full attention.

Kojirou sees her as the fulfillment of his wish, and Saber bloody actually gets to grant him the fight of his 'life' (FSN and UBW, not HF ;n;) when she couldn't do the same for a certain former rival. She even promises their fight's resolution because it is so important to her to see it through (UBW).

Kojirou really wants that fight, and fairly, without interruption. Which is why in FSN he goes as far as to stop the fight before Rider can spy on Saber's sword. And then later on, literally tells Shirou and Rin he doesn't give a shit about them, he just wants to fight Saber.

When he calls her out on holding back, especially since they're both running out of time, she apologizes and reveals Excalibur so they can fully face each other at full strength. UGH THE CHEMISTRY HGNGNGNGNGN. Also, since he knows this is their last fight, he's giving off "look at me, focus on me, don't think about anything else" vibes.

Also, man, Kojirou Sasaki really be out here serving up blatant eye smex every time they share the screen I swear to god.

Like let me give you a line from UBW 23, 19:08, right after Assassin notices she's damaged his katana

Arturia: Our positions...Assassin...are you... (that's what the subs say but Saber says "kisama" so I read it as "you bastard")

Kojirou, smirking: Is it wise to pull your blows? In this position, I could send you flying.

*Kojirou steps forward pressuring their locked swords and causing her to shuffle back a bit*

Arturia: Is that why you deliberately entered my range?

Look, Sasaki, we all see what you're doing, ya ain't slick.

Taken out of context and heck even *in* context that's sexual tension right there.

You better bet if he had the chance he'd be sticking that long-ass sword in-

Is there an unpopular opinion you have about your ship?

It's...baffling how unknown this ship is like...look at all that material. I mean of course it's going to be trounced in popularity by Shirou x Saber, GilArt, and Diarturia , but it should at least have accumulated enough of a following like Cuturia, for example.

Thank you for the ask! Hope you enjoyed the read as much as I enjoyed constructing this. :) feel free to share to gain more fans mwahahahahah join the dark side we have cookiessss

[an-emovision]

Someone to you - Izuku Midoriya

--------------------------------------------------------- A/N: Highkey cringed a little when i was editing this but like its fine i guess, hope you enjoy!  Trigger warning(s): self esteem issues, low self worth(?)(if you’re feeling these things please know you are wonderful and beautiful just the way you are and someone out there loves you and if no one does then i will >:)) --------------------------------------------------------- "Hey! Good morning Y/N!" You looked up from your phone to find Izuku Midoriyas bright smile. as he made his way towards your figure on the couch you returned his smile with your own tired one. "Good morning Izu" You replied, letting out a yawn and stretching your arms out above you. His brilliant green eyes seemed to follow your every movement as he made note of your current appearance. Given that you were still in what seemed to be your pajamas which consisted of an over-sized white shirt and black shorts, not only that but your hair was all askew. He came to the conclusion that you had just woken up which was correct, so his smile softened as he sat next to you, the couch dipping from his sudden weight on the cream colored cushions.  You crossed your legs as you watched him take a seat next to you in the common room of the UA dorms. A sweeter smile gracing your heavenly features as he sat, well at least Izuku thought they were heavenly as he watched your face contort into the smile. His favorite thing about you had always been your smile.  The day ahead seemed easy, It was a beautiful Saturday morning. The sky was clear, not a cloud to be seen. Mina even offered you to come shopping with her, Uraraka, and Tsu which you gladly accepted. So why did you feel so...Sad? Nothing necessarily bad had happened that day, nothing more then the usual. It was the weekend which meant no class, but that didn't mean most of your classmates weren't working to better themselves still. Bakugo was picking fights with Todoroki and Midoriya while Ida tried to break it up as usual. Kirishima having to drag Bakugo away so he could cool off. No one really knew what set him off, no one usually does. So the class simply assumed it was Midoriyas existence (which was correct)  and went about their day. So why did your figure feel especially heavy today? Why did you feel so upset?  "...y/n?....Helloooo Y/N? You okay?" you were snapped out of your thoughts by Mina who had placed a hand on your shoulder and was looking at you with slight worry in her features. Your eyes darted to her golden orbs and gave her a quick nod and a half-assed smile "Yeah! yeah im good!" you let out an embarrassed chuckle as your eyes left Minas and settled on Uraraka and Tsu who were also look at you with slight concern etched into their features. The girls looked at each other for a moment before Mina nodded and continued about her rant about some clothing brand that sold a jacket she really really wanted. The group continued to walk about the mall checking out shops and buying some snacks for your roommates along the way. You still didn't know what was wrong with you, still curious as to why your social stamina wasn't quite up to par today. You were having fun, at least that's what you were telling yourself but in actuality all you wanted was to go home, change into some pajamas and lay in bed for a while. Maybe get lost in your own thoughts while mindlessly scrolling through your social medias.  A soft sigh and relief left you as Tsu suggested that they go back home as it was getting pretty late. You, Uraraka, and Mina nodded in agreement then headed for the UA dorms. On the way there you yet again got lost in your own thoughts as the three girls stopped bothering to try and include you into the conversation. Not in a rude way, they could just tell after a while you weren't really up to the task of participating in any conversation. That didn't stop them from asking if you where okay every once in a while. After stepping into the dorms you all went your separate ways. You headed straight for your bedroom after passing out the snacks you had gotten for your friends, these friends being Midoriya, yaomomo, and Kaminari. Your eyes took in the details your familiar dorm room as you closed the door behind you and set your shopping bags by the door. As promised by yourself you collected your pajamas of choice and changed into them before hopping into bed and cuddling into your warm blankets with a gentle content sigh. You sat up and took your phone from your bedside table, then laid back down and continued to scroll through Instagram. Seeing model after model made you feel a little uneasy, almost self conscious. Well 'almost' it did make you feel self conscious, then seeing all of your beautiful friends pictures. Even Bakugos looked awesome. You felt inferior, like maybe you didnt deserve to be friends with such beautiful and talented people. Each and every one of them had something it didnt matter if it was brains or strength but they all had something. and what did you have? You didnt know. In your eyes everything that's happened to you so far was pure luck.  You felt tears begin to well up in your eyes as you questioned your own self worth. This wasn't the first time you would lay in your bed and sob, questioning what you did to deserve all of the things that you've been blessed with. There were people out there with no homes, no family, no food and here you where living in a fancy dorm, trying to become a hero and graduate from UA. What did you do to deserve anything you had? why not someone who really really needed it. You didn't see how hard you worked to get where you are, you didn't acknowledge that you worked just as hard as anyone else in Class 1-A. It was easy for someone like Midoriya to recognize, he worked his ass off to control his quirk and get into UA. He always admired your problem solving ability and your quirk. Oh man did he love your quirk, hes made multiple pages of notes on your quirk alone, not even counting your hero suits awesomeness. However, he hated that you brushed off all of your accomplishments as someone else's doing, or gave the credit to luck. Some days all he wanted to do was hug you and tell you every amazing detail about yourself. He wishes he could be as cool as you, really he does. It took him a long time to realize that he didn't just admire you, he had fallen in love with you. He was constantly trying to up his game to impress you and cherished the moments where you praised him no matter how often it was. he truly just wanted to be somebody to you. Midoriya had informed Ida of his feelings for you then proceeded to ask for advice, like Ida knew anything about relationships. Midoriya didn't know about your self esteem issues and you'd rather he didn't as not to worry him, but as you laid on your bed, sobbing and hating yourself for being so weak and crying you couldn't think of anyone better to consult. So you picked your phone up again and scrolled through your contacts, rubbing your now puffy and red eyes as you clicked the call button under his name "Broccoli🥦💚" "Hello?" the corner of your lips tugged into a small smile as you heard his sweet voice. then you cleared your throat before speaking. your voice was a bit hoarse from crying. "U-Uh, hi Izu" You could hear his smile as he greeted you. "Hey Y/N!" he greeted, almost as if he hadn’t read the contact name before picking up the phone "Whats up?" "Are you in your room right now?" It felt a bit awkward to ask and to him it seemed like a slightly odd question to ask but nevertheless he answered. "Uh Yeah, why whats up?" You silently thanked whatever god was out there that he didn't notice your voice sounded as messed up as it did. "uh nothing, I just- Uh can i come over?" He nodded even though you couldn't see him then gave you the okay to come over. You hung up after telling him you'll be over in 5 and slid off your bed, slipping on your slippers before making your way towards your bedroom door. Izuku was panicking a little. Had he done something wrong? you two hadn't really spoken that day so he didn't think that was the case necessarily. Maybe Ida told you about him liking you. Multiple scenes of him telling you of Dekus crush and you looking disgusted after played in his head. Dammit Ida he cursed mentally, not really knowing if Ida had told you or not. He practically jumped out of his own skin when he heard a knock at his door, already knowing it was you he strode over and opened it. Expecting to find you smiling as always however, his "Hey!" got cut short and his grin fell when his brilliant green orbs landed on your damp cheeks and your red and puffy eyes. All fear of you knowing about his crush on you left him, it was replaced with worry and it was clear as day on his face. Upon seeing him, the one that picked you up when you fell down, your first friend at UA, the one that made your cheeks heat up and your stomach to do back flips tears began to stream down your cheeks again. You fell into his arms and without hesitation he embraced you tightly, gently shushing you and running his fingers through your hair in an attempt to calm you down. You let out a gentle hiccup as he hooked his arm under the back of your knees and carried you further into his room after gently closing the door with his foot. Placing you on the edge of his bed and sitting next to you his hand rubbed your back up and down as he gently took you into his embrace again. You loved this man, you really really loved him and it wan't until you were burying your face into his shoulder that you realized it. After your sobs died down and your breathing became normal he gingerly pulled away from you before giving you a soft smile and gently brushing a few strands of hair from your face, still rubbing your back at a gentle pace before eventually stopping and resting on your lower back. "Do you wanna tell me whats wrong now?" He let out in a whisper his eyes never leaving yours. "I-I just-" you where cut off by your own sniffle "I don't know what i did to deserve any of this. I don't deserve to be at UA, hell i don't even deserve my quirk." your voice was small, barely a mumble but he was still able to hear it. That doesn't mean he wanted to hear you talk down on yourself, he couldn't believe what he was hearing really. your eyes left his and landed on your lap as you let out your feelings "I dont-...I dont deserve you" "I can't believe you" Midoriya sounded genuinely upset, your eyes found his again only to be met with a disappointed expression. It wasn't at all what you where expecting but...maybe you deserved it.   "How could you say you don't deserve being here when you're one of the most hard working people i've ever met?" Your eyes widened a little, you where going to say how even Mineta works harder then you do but he cut you off before you could "You're absolutely amazing Y/N, having you as a classmate hell even having you as a friend is inspiring. The advice you give to others is amazing, your quirk is awesome, your hero suit is the best one i've ever seen, you could get us out of any situation and-" He was cut off by a pair of soft lips against his. His eyes were saucers and he was stunned, looking at you like a deer in the headlights when you pulled away. Worry settled in your stomach upon seeing his reaction. "I-Im sorry, I shouldn't have done that i just couldn't stop mys-mmph" Now it was his turn to cut you off, with his lips of course. Your eyes where wide for a moment before they gently fluttered closed and you kissed him back. He let out a pleased hum before pulling away to your dismay. The two of you stared at each other for a moment, admiring each others features. His freckle dotted cheeks where now dusted with crimson and so where yours. "I-I didnt know you..." he let out, trailing off at the end of his sentence, you nodded shyly "Y-Yeah I just didnt realize it until a little bit ago." you gave him a sheepish grin as he let out a soft chuckle and nodded. "Yeah i didnt realize it either." then his features became serious and you noticed it, waiting for him to say whatever he was going to say "Seriously, you're amazing. I hate seeing you like this, it breaks my heart" his words left his lips in a mumble as he brought his hand up to caress your cheek. "I know i can't just tell you to stop feeling this way because that's not how feelings work but...I will do my absolute best to help you" he didn't say it out loud, but he was promising this to you. You smiled and nodded, moving to bury your face into his shoulder. He hugged you as he placed his chin on your shoulder, taking in your sweet sent before smiling at the words you let out. "Thank you Izu” 

[actualbird]

nobody asked but pat gill is so fucking hot to me and im going to tell you why im attracted to him | a 2.3k word long post where i hold you, dear reader, hostage

[SCENE: You, the reader, are tied to a wooden chair in an empty room with nothing but a small table and a projector. You pull at the ropes that tie your hands together behind your back, but then the door opens and I stroll in. I am dressed in a full black suit and am also wearing shutter shades. I am also holding a powerpoint clicker. The fancy ones with a laser pointer in them. You shudder in contempt for you know that you are about to witness a horrible lecture.]

Hello, reader. I know you know why I’ve brought you here. I’m here to discuss something very important to you. Don’t look at me like that, it is important, I swear. I am here to tell you why I find Pat Gill hot.

[I switch on the projector. My presentation slides flash to life on the wall. Behind your back, you locate the feel around the knots tying your hands.]

This is not a presentation where I will convince you that Pat Gill is hot. No, I wouldn’t prescribe my tastes onto anybody, that’s not nice. What I will do is explain in horrid, vivid detail why I myself find Pat Gill hot. 

Like everything I do, I cannot dive in without first setting up some kind of framework or system of analysis. What I am trying to explain is how I find another person attractive, and that has thus pushed me to make the AHG Criteria, a criteria made up of the three principal characteristics of a human which makes me attracted to them and is also, coincidentally, the sound I make when I see images of Pat Gill. 

The AHG Criteria refers to the following:

Appearance: the most shallow but noticeable of characteristics. Here, I will explain just what it is about Pat Gill’s perceivable flesh prison that gets me so upset in an attracted manner.

Humor: I love a funny human and humor theory is one of my side interests. Here, I will dissect two specific instances of Pat Gill’s humor, bringing in references and related literature, in an effort to explain why his sense of humor is stellar.

Good at presenting things: I am very attracted to competence, but one skill I hold in very high regard is the skill of explaining and conveying information. Here, I will analyse Pat Gill as a communicator.

So let’s jump right into it. 

Pat Gill’s Appearance is, frankly, an anomaly to me. This is not to say that anything about his appearance is strange, but that, quite honestly, as handsome as he is, he’s basic. He is white, he is tall, he is thin, he has black hair and a slight beard (though currently he is sporting more of a moustache, which I’m still into). At first glance, one wouldn’t pay him much attention. I sure didn’t, until I watched more and more videos of him. I sure didn’t, until I realized.

His Appearance is basic, but his vibes, which I am including in the criteria of Appearance, bring his Appearance to life. Pat Gill looks a little unapproachable, with his resting sad face; but, when he smiles, he is so shameless and happy. Pat Gill looks like somebody you’d see leaning on a wall outside a bar, looking up at the sky, and you wonder just what he’s thinking about---wonder if you could get lost in his thoughts. Pat Gill looks like somebody friendly--- once his resting sad face gives way---somebody who would help you pick up your stuff when you bump into him and the contents of your bag spill out. Pat Gill looks like somebody who would use his goddamn turn signal. Pat Gill looks like somebody who would pet many dogs, as many dogs as he physically could. Pat Gill looks---

[As I prattle on, your fingers explore the knots behind your back. In your mind, you are mapping out the knot’s shape and orientation, thinking about how to undo them. When you tune back into my voice, the slide on the projector has changed and I have shifted topics.]

Let’s move onto the next criteria. Humor.

Paul McGhee in his book Humor: Its Origins and Development brings up Göran Nerhardt to define humor as “[...] a consequence of the discrepancy between two mental representations, one of which is an expectation and the other is some idea or percept” (McGhee 14). Nerhardt’s definition of humor is one that relies on incongruity: wherein there is an element that is not in accordance with the other elements. An incongruous element is one that is not the expectation, and in this subversion of expectation, humor is achieved. What is funny in a humorous situation, is then, what is unexpected to a certain degree. Humor, and the reaction to it, is due to the recognition of the incongruous. 

Despite this incongruity, there is still an internal logic to anything humorous. This internal logic is different for each humorous situation, and consists of everything within the situation; the set-up, punchline, characters, etc. It is this internal logic that allows for jokes to “make sense.” It is that internal logic that helps us get from one element to the incongruous element, realize their relationship, and thus find the whole thing funny.

Incongruity and internal logic are one of the many characteristics of humor, and they are the ones I will be focusing on. With those definitions in place, let’s talk about what you’re here for: Pat Gill.

Pat Gill is a funny guy. If I tried to analyse every single instance he was funny, I would never shut up. You wouldn’t want that, would you?

[You shake your head no. God, no.]

Right, so I’ll just be focusing on two instances of his humor that stuck out to me (originally, I wanted to discuss three, but then I saw that the length of this post was getting kilometric, so I cut it down to the essentials), these of which I think is a good marker for the kind of sense of humor he has.

The first one is my absolute favorite tweet of his:

This tweet is, at first glance, a lot. Pat Gill doesn’t wait for the punchline to be incongruous, he throws incongruity straight at our faces with the opening line, and one may think that that’s a bad move. Not necessarily. It’s just a ballsy one. It’s a move that doesn’t spoonfeed the audience with the internal logic, you have to work for it. As you read through the tweet, the internal logic starts to come through the incongruity. The literal dramatic situation of the tweet is a persona talking about the good state their nemesis is in. The language of the tweet keys us in to the kind of Medieval vibe, like a scheming duke in the hallways of a castle. The punchline comes after the last comma. The monolog of the nemesis’ good fortune will be interrupted by the persona’s attack on their life.

This tweet is an example of the bedrock of many of his jokes. He doesn’t give a damn if he makes sense or not. He will throw you into the deep end of the joke and it is up to you to tread the water. However, if you do manage to keep afloat, his internal logic will bring you to the punchline and, thus, satisfaction.

[Your fingers have been working on the knots steadily as I speak. You try your best not to react as you start to feel something give way, and you keep working quietly.]

The second instance of humor I want to discuss is the Solid Snake Skincare Routine dialog he wrote and performed with Brian in episode 8 of Gill and Gilbert. The full transcript is as follows:

Pat (as Solid Snake from Metal Gear Solid): Colonel, how do I know which moisturizer to buy, and how do I know it’ll match my skin type?

Brian (as Colonel from Metal Gear Solid): Unfortunately Snake, there’s no way to tell for sure. Certain retailers will offer samples, but in most cases, it’s up to you to purchase a product and try it out.

Pat: Sounds expensive.

Brian: It is, Snake. And the cost disproportionately affects women.

Pat: Women?

Brian: Societal norms in the west dictate that a woman’s value is tied to their appearance, and the thing every woman has…

Pat: Skin!

Brian: Right.

Pat: So, we expect women to attain a higher---So, we expect women---women, to attain perfect skin, and we also expect them to pay for it?

Brian: All while paying them less for doing the same jobs as men.

Pat: So Colonel, that means…

Brian: Yes, Snake. It is imperative that you give your money to women.

Pat: Right.

Like the tweet discussed before, Pat Gill shoves incongruity in your face immediately. Solid Snake, super cool spy dude (?? I don’t fuckin know anything about video games) talking about skincare. He expects you to keep up, and if you do, you are rewarded by a surreal yet lovely conversation between Snake and Colonel talking about the intricacies of skincare, but then things get really interesting. The topic shifts to the societal expectations of beauty and how it ties into womens’ experiences. This isn’t a grand woke moment or anything, but it is a surprising shift in subject that is perfectly in tune with the internal logic of the conversation. The punchline is amazing, giving all your money to women, yet it is also written in a way that does not imply that women are the butt of the joke. The butt of the joke here is the surreal vibe of the conversation as a whole.

This dialog builds upon the bedrock of Pat Gill’s humor: he isn’t afraid to go places. This is something that is apparent in many of the Unraveleds that he writes (Dark Souls Bosses is a very good example), he brings in real issues, makes the jokes funny, but never treats the marginalized or the victims of these issues as the butt of the joke. In Susan Purdie’s book The Mastery of Discourse, she remarks that to joke about a certain topic, to make something the “butt of the joke” can degrade this topic and bring it down lower, in the process shifting the power to the joker instead (Purdie 59). Pat Gill is aware of that power dynamic and never jokes at the expense of those who are struggling. He instead makes us laugh at characters, at situations, at surreality.

[The knots tying your hands are almost undone. You just need to bide your time. You’re so close to escaping from this thirsty pseudo intellectual motherfucker]

The last criteria I need to discuss with you is GreatAtPresentingThings. 

Pat Gill has done a lot of presenting. For this, I will be analyzing just one of the many videos where Pat Presents Things, my favorite among his “X is Y because of Z” videos, “Why Bloodborne and Muppets are the exact same thing.”

I’ve talked about this video in a previous long post analysis about Pat Gill, but let me talk about it again. Pat Gill, on camera, brings up an absolutely bonkers fucking thesis: that the horrible monsters in Bloodborne are similar to the Muppets because of how they use character design. 

Pat Gill, as a presenter, is very lovely to listen to. The cadence of his voice is not only extremely relaxing and makes me feel like a tranquilized zoo animal that Pat is talking to very gently about video games, but his voice is also very easy to follow. There are many voices on the internet, and I have a bunch of sensory issues, so a lot of the time, even when I want to listen to somebody, I just can’t because of how their voice grates at my ears. Pat Gill’s voice is not that. It is of a good speed and good vibe that not only puts me at ease but makes me want to listen.

Pat Gill uses gestures. This is most apparent in this video, where he does that cute thing when he says Shape, Movement, and Texture. Here are screenshots of it because it’s so fucking cute, what the fuck.

I know, I know, what do gestures have to do with presenting things? Well, if you told me “shape, movement, texture”, six minutes later, I wouldn’t fucking remember any of those. But with these gestures, those words do stick. When words stick, the explanations behind those words stick as well. When words and explanations stick in your mind, congratulations dude, you just learned something! Pat Gill when talking, and whether it is scripted like this or unintentional like a random gesticulation, the movement catches my attention and I become a more rapt listener.

Honestly, I could go on and on about Pat as a communicator and---

[Before I can speak, you bolt upwards from your chair, finally having gotten the ropes loose. Quickly, powerfully, you grab the projector from the table and smash it over my head. I stumble and fall to the ground, and you look down at me as your chest heaves.

As I slowly lose consciousness, you hear me say, softly, but with so much fervor:

“Pat…..Gill…..hot.”]

Thanks for reading! 

(Read my other unhinged analysis essays at actualbird.tumblr.com/tagged/nobody-asked-but. If you have a suggestion for an unhinged analysis essay I can write, send me an ask!)

References:

McGhee, Paul E. Humor: Its Origin and Development, W.H. Freeman and Company, 1979, pp. 1-41.

Purdie, Susan. The Mastery of Discourse. Harvester Wheatsheaf. 1993.

[longassr1de]

Sweetness

Pairing: Jeno × fem!reader

Genre: smut!!, established relationship, domestic??

Word count: ~2k

Summary: What better way to beat the summer heat than with a sweet treat?

⚠️ Warnings: pretty much another pwp, 00 liner smut, food play, ice play(?), fingering, rough and unprotected sex, oral (both male and female receiving), pet names (moreso relationship-wise though), look..very curious things happen with popsicles okay?, not yet proofread.

A/N: lmk if I missed any warnings or any typos and such! I haven't written in so long or thought up anything this filthy to the point that I even surprised myself with this one.. so much for easier the 00 line content onto this blog. Whoops! Anyway I hope you guys enjoy! xoxo (oh also im currently on mobile so i'll add the read later in a bit, i apologize in advance!!)

It all started out with Jeno being a tease on a hot, hot summer evening. Sure, it was terribly humid out, but the way he kept sucking at the colorful popsicle even when it began to melt down to his slender fingers had you feeling wet heat in a much more personal sense. He held eye contact with you as his lips pulled away from the frozen treat, sinful eyes making it a point to devour the way you intook just a little extra air when he licked at the sticky mess upon his palm.

"Care for a taste?" Jeno offered, his deep voice filled with mirth. That's all it really took for you quickly stride across the room to join him where he'd been sat at the sofa. He tossed the remainder of the popsicle atop its wrapper on the coffee table, instead pulling you into his lap as he pushed his tongue past your lips. You could still taste the cold sweetness on his tongue even as he sucked at yours, biting your bottom lip as his strong embrace loosens in favor of grabbing at your ass.

He thanks the heavens for your wardrobe selection today, your skirt making it so much easier to grind against your pretty little panties. If the wet spot forming on his pants was anything to go by, he'd guess you were just as needy as him if not moreso.

"On your back princess, I wanna try something." Jeno helps you take off your shirt as he lays you onto the leather, straddling over your hips before slowly making his way down to your breasts. He mumbles out praises for your body as his slowly warming mouth licks and sucks at your nipples. He separates from your body, drawing out a whine from your lips, when suddenly his now cold again mouth quickly works them to stiff peaks.

"You like that, baby?" You can only nod at his question, carelessly reaching for his hair, needing something to grab onto as he presses cold kisses across the expanse of your neck down your torso. "You're so sensitive for me, does a little cold make you this wet, hmm?" You blink up at your usually sweet boyfriend, only to find his gaze to be more hungry than playful.

"Answer me, baby? Or have I already fucked you stupid without even touching you?" The loud whine your body automatically let out as a response to his filthy words has you blushing frantically, only serving to further spur Jeno's near-sadistic behavior. "Aww, it's ok princess, there's no need to be embarrassed. You're gonna sound so pretty when you're cumming for me later, I just know it."

Before you know it, your skirt's flipped up to cover your abdomen, and it's near impossible to tear your gaze away from Jeno's fingers and how they seemingly glide across your wet lips. His tongue peeks out to lick at your clit before giving it a harsh suck, pulling back to bite at your thigh with a groan, and you just know he's left you with another blossoming mark. You always make it a point to complain about Jeno's marking habits, but he knew better; after all, he's caught you staring at them in the mirror before when you thought he wasn't home.

Frustrated that you had yet to be properly touched despite all your boyfriend's teasing, crinkling sound catches your attention, only to be met with the sight of Jeno sucking at that damned popsicle again. So much for hoping it was a condom so you'd finally be getting some. "Babe, pleeaaseee," you keen, wiggling your hips before biting at your swollen lower lip, trying to entice your boyfriend, "do something, anything."

"Anything?" But it's more of a statement than a question, as you soon find out. The remainder of your clothing is dragged off your body before the cool touch surprises you, but you're even more surprised to find Jeno fucking a brand new popsicle into your wetness. "Your pussy's gonna be so sticky and sweet for me, can't wait to watch you suck it off me," he all but groans at the mere thought of your heavenly lips sucking him off. The image of Jeno's colorful cum spilling out of you doesn't last long, as the freezing treat demands its presence be known, his tongue simultaneously going back to working at your clit.

Letting out a loud moan of his name, he looks up at you, squeezing you thigh with his free hand to draw your attention back to his face, intense eyes settling upon your teary ones. "Does it feel good, baby? Is it too cold?" You're touched that he's checking up on you, but it's really difficult to form words when his cold digits take over and fuck up into you with fervor.

"Don't stop, don't stop fuck Jeno please don't stop!" Just as you cry out for more, the man in question pulls away from you completely, leaving you high and dry just when it your orgasm was building up around his skilled fingers. Your eyes open to the sight of a shirtless Jeno with his pants and briefs pushed down just enough so that he can fuck up into his hand, giving himself just a hint of relief before moving on to the main event. Complaints die in your throat as you watch Jeno grasp both his leaking cock and the popsicle between his palms, rocking against the length of the sticky mess before once again pushing it into you a handful of times, ultimately discarding it off-handedly in the general direction of the coffee table it had been melting atop. "Think you're ready to take my cock now, princess? Wanna feel how well you take me," mumbling the latter against your lips, already having his tongue nearly down your throat as he aligns his tip, drawing out beautiful, desperate moans when he finally pushes in and sheathes himself inside your wetness to the hilt. You'd never even noticed when the rest of his clothes had gone missing, but you weren't complaining either.

"Fuck Jeno, how do you feel so hot yet so cold at the same time?" you shiver, simultaneously pulling closer and farther from his body, seeking the warmth from his chest while avoiding his freezing hands. He only chuckles at this, kissing further down your jaw before pausing to suck another mark, this time into your sensitive breast. Jeno's cold hands find purchase on your hips despite all your wriggling, bodies quickly warming up as the heat in the room rises on this passionate summer night. His hips work a strong rhythm into your own, pulling lewd melodies from the depths of your chest, raking your nails down his broad back in retaliation for making your things quake.

"Please tell me you're close, because I'm so turned on I can't guarantee I'll outlast you at this rate." The sheepish confession coming from a face that's anything but has you nearly combusting on the spot. His furrowed brows, parted, kiss-swollen lips and strangled groans all adding to your current heightened state of pleasure.

"Just a little more, Jeno I'm so so close. Feels so fucking good, just like tha-at," your eyes roll back as you're speaking and the cockiness that his features don immediately spell trouble. He's found your spot and he is whole heartedly planning to abuse this newfound knowledge. Both of your thighs are pushed up and pinned in place by your chest, his knees digging deeper into the leather; the glint in your boyfriend's dark eyes shining twice as bright in the now-evening glow, vision quickly blurring as his pace picks up considerably. His filthy praises besides your ear only helping your decent further into madness, bucking your hips into his as your nails dig into his shoulders for dear life.

"That's it, good girl, let go for me, come all over my dick, you can do it." As if by magic spell, your release floods your senses, a strangled cry of Jeno's name escaping your weak lips, babbling as he continues to fuck you through your orgasm. The colorful popsicle residue mixed with your own cum leaks out of you as Jeno pulls out of your warmth, and he stops for a moment to admire the art that would soon be once again ruined by raging hormones.

True to his filthy word, once you've recovered your still-horny lover is quick to lead your head between his legs, making sure you wouldn't forget the real sticky treat he'd made sure to save you a taste of. "Your mouth feels so good, so good, all for me, yeah?" he coos down at your form, blissed out as he enjoys the view.

It's his turn to be surprised however, when you pull off his cock to wink up at him, seductively murmuring for him to use you for his own release and fuck your throat. Not one that needs to be told twice, Jeno cups your cheeks as he holds you in place, slowly slipping into your mouth once again. He stops to make sure you're sure, asking if you're okay every time you whine or gag around him, not wanting to hurt you either.

Once you reassure him you're fine and start moving of your own accord, the loudest moan you've ever heard from Jeno to date spilling out, his head thrown back in sheer pleasure from the delicious sensation. You have all but a minute's worth of the upper hand before feline eyes are back on your own, silently asking for permission to begin moving his hips. Your silent response comes in the way your hands come up to his hips, ready to stop him if you needed to come up for air. A mere three thrusts in and Jeno is doubling over, sweet and filthy words coming out slurred as he's drunk off the feeling of your thigh throat around his length. "I'm so fucking close, oh my god," Jeno's ragged voice manages to rasp out, bucking wildly as you gag around his thick dick. "Gonna cum down your throat princess, yes or no?" He tugs at your hair to get your attention, briefly stilling his fidgeting hips. Your moan of an answer and the way you claw at his thighs to brace yourself being all the nonverbal cues he needs before he pulls out, sensitive tip all the way at your lips again, and you take in a deep breath just before he pushes back in so deep you feared you wouldn't be able to take it, the evidence of white, hot pleasure coating your throat in stripes.

Rather than the usual salty tang of Jeno's cum, the sweetness of the popsicle and taste of your own essence remaining the dominant taste on your tongue. You lick at your sticky lips as Jeno slowly pulls away from your mouth, hissing at how sensitive he is after such a powerful orgasm. He lays back before pulling you with him to lie over his chest, uncaring for the sweaty sheen adorning your bodies in favor of the peaceful embrace of your love. Many peppered kisses and high praises later, Jeno gently turns to press a lingering kiss atop your head, softly calling your name to beckon your gaze.

He breaks the silence by asking, "What do you say about trying whipped cream next time?"

"Sounds... sweet," you retort, much to Jeno's chagrin. At times like this he could easily see why his friends made fun of you two for your sense of humor. But for as much as he teased, he knew he would always be twice as in love with you as he ever claimed to be. And that.. was pretty sweet indeed.

[parkjess]

hi im not sure if u have any rules for requests like what u are not comfortable with writing etc but i was thinking of a fwb imagine with either rocky or bin & then them catching feelings? some angst would be good if u can!!

Hi! Thank you for requesting!🥰

I *do not* write smuts or something of this kind, so I’m not gonna detail any 18+ content.

Word count: 2,253 

Genre: fluff, angst, mentions of ‘last night’.

Saturday morning, you open your eyes due to the sunlight interrupting your dream, making you whine quietly, and turn around in bed. Woah, what the hell!

It was a male figure laying next to you, your body only covered with a thin blanket that doesn’t seem familiar at all, you furrow your brows when you open your eyes wide, slightly confused about why you slept in a foreign bedroom.

Grabbing the phone that fortunately was above your head on the night stand, your hand accidentally touching a clothing piece, it’s your bra. Was I drunk last night? Oh! You remembered all of the sudden when you read the last text messages in your chat with your friend, Minhyuk.

Looking back at the exposed muscular body of the guy who just turned around. Oh my god, it’s really him.

No it can’t be, Moonbin told me that this would happen but I was too naive thinking I won’t fall into Minhyuk’s bed when I’ll be just a bit drunk. It seems like he was drunk too, what if he planned it all? Or worse, what if I agreed?

“Good morning,” His crispy morning voice is stopping you from getting off the bed, you turn your head to him as he stretches his arms to the side, a smirk appears on his bare face. -“Minhyuk... how much did we drink last night?” You ask straight forward, not even replying with a ‘good morning’. “Not much though, wait, you don’t remember?” He asks and pushes himself up with his elbows on each side of his body. -“Were we...?” You tried to make it less awkward, hoping he’d say ‘Don’t worry, nothing happened’ but instead he says, “well yeah, you kinda asked for it.” I did what?!

“Do you want coffee?” He says when he comes back to his bedroom after washing up, peeking from the door as you yell at him since you just got up from bed, putting on your white t-shirt that was laying on the floor the whole night. -“Park Minhyuk!” He immediately covered his eyes with his hand, sighing. “You scared me! ya~ it’s nothing that I haven’t seen already...” you could hear his smile while he spoke. The fact that you’re sleeping with your best friend kinda bothers you now, and you can’t realize why you agreed to do it in the first place.

-“Yeah, I would like to have some coffee, thanks...” you say after shutting the closet door, touching your forehead to check the temperature of your body. “Are you feeling well?” He comes up to you, does the same to your forehead. Well he can be a softie too when he wants.

His eyes shine once he places his hand on your head, glancing at your face for a moment but quickly looks away. “I think you’re okay. Let’s eat something.” He finally says and you head to wash up first.

-“Minhyuk?” You call him from inside the bathroom when you get out of the shower. Flashbacks of the last time you called his name like that was last night, when he hovered you with his body. -“Hehe, I- have no clothes, can you borrow me a shirt of yours?” An awkward giggle left your lips, not used to this feeling with him.

Minhyuk came back to you with a pair of his boxers and a large shirt that will probably cover your thighs enough, handing them to you. “Don’t be embarrassed, you did worse things last night.” Leaving a laugh at the end so you’ll understand he was sarcastic. He does that again, reminding me last night, when all I can remember is his kisses, gosh it was heavenly.

Whatever, you thought as you put on the clothes he gave you, heading to the kitchen right after. Minhyuk’s eyes landed on you wearing his shirt as a mini dress, scanning your body with shiny eyes and a little smile plastered on his face, his hand holding a cup of coffee he doesn’t even like but needs, other arm holding him up the counter as he takes a sip.

You open the fridge after ignoring the staring contest he made with your body, looking for something to eat. -“Eggs?” You grab the egg carton and turn to ask your friend. “Yep.” He answers shortly.

Though it was his place, he didn’t even asked if you need help, just sat on the high bar chair, enjoying the cold drink and the view of you cooking. Meanwhile you only hoped he won’t say anything more about what happened last night, since it was too quiet.

“You’re really good at this.” He speaks up while your back is facing him, pouring the eggs into a pan. That sounds familiar to you. He said the same thing last night, Holy Cr-

“Cooking, I mean.” Minhyuk fixes before you even say anything, it’s like he heard your mind. -“Min, you really call THIS cooking?” You reply, his face lightened up the moment you called him by a short nickname, something you never did, but it came out natural for you, unlike for him, it made his heart twitch a bit.

Breakfast is ready so you grabbed a tray and put everything on it to make it easier to carry it over to the table, when you put it down, you were just about to turn around but MInhyuk’s taller figure blocked your way. -“What the hell Minhyuk?” You yell as you jumped slightly, slowly walking backwards as he leads you to do so. Gosh that face, no wonder I wanted him- No No No what am I thinking? You shook your head at your thoughts.

-“The food is going to cool down.” You managed to say though the body that locked you on a wall behind couldn’t make you say a lot, trying to look away from him, which was a fail or change a topic and not fall into his charm again.

-“Minhyuk, the food.” You stopped him by placing your hand on his chest, another flashback to last night hits you. “Please... you had something in your eye.” He says and opens your eye with his fingers gently, -“Did you have to do it so dramatically?” You say and push him away to the side, gently.

-“Since when are we like this?” You ask, taking a bite from a piece of bread. “Like this, how?” He asks naively. You sigh while rolling your eyes, which made him giggle and almost choke on his coffee. -“You know how, that ‘friends with benefits’ thing...” “it seems like you don’t enjoy this title.” -“I don’t- I mean, I like being your friend, but not any more than that. Ugh, why does it have to sound so wrong!” You could notice his smile disappearing within’ seconds when you had those words said out loud, especially when you were the one who brought that idea in the first place.

“It’s okay, I get it.” He says and takes a bite from the omelette you made, and since then, there wasn’t a word spoken until you both finished eating.

His feelings hurt, because of you. Because you didn’t want him more than a friend.

After a couple of hours, you sat on the floor, still in his apartment, watching a k-drama you just started. It’s been a while of silence today, not much speaking, not much eye contact between the two of you. Yet, you assumed he was just busy and not with the broken heart he had.

Suddenly, a bag landed on the table in front of you, lifting your head, seeing his furrowed brows, he looks pissed, not even smiling when he looks at you.

“Please leave.” He finally says, is that a command? -“Minhyuk... wha-“ you place a hand on the table to support yourself as you stand up. You take another look at the bag, realizing he was busy doing laundry to the clothes you wore yesterday, and now he’s handing them back to you. His glance is locked with yours, staring into your soul through the eyes.

“Just go.” He says coldly, yet his eyes stare at you like he wants to kiss you and keep you close. You say nothing but take the bag and walk towards the door, something stops you. -“Seriously Minhyuk?” His name, you love saying it out loud. He just turns around and says nothing, hands in his pockets, standing still. -“Can I at least change?” You point at the bag, still wearing his clothes. “You can keep it.” He only replies, waiting for you to leave.

The door was shut close behind you, not even looking back. You couldn’t see him but all he did once you left his apartment was throwing himself on the bed you two shared last night, staring at the ceiling, sighing heavily as memories ran in his mind. He loves you. Only realizing it this morning, not something specific but all of you that made his heart flutter for the first time, something he never felt with you.

His heart was beating faster every time your figure appeared in his thoughts, his fingers playing with the necklace you gave him. His lungs wanting to scream for you to come back, but he stays still in his bed.

After a while of thinking about you, of where you are at the moment, wondering what you’re doing and with who, he grabbed his phone, sitting straight, entering the message box, hoping you had texted him. But you didn’t have a reason to do so, he’s the one who asked you to leave.

Gosh! Y/n...

He started typing.

Come back.

But immediately deleted it, letter by letter.

He hoped his thumb will slip “accidentally” on the send button, but it didn’t happen.

‘I see you’re typing, idiot.”

Suddenly, your message popped, making his heart race fast again.

Idiot? He thought to himself... aish, this girl allows herself to be that rude. He’s not sure what he should to write back.

Come back.

You forgot your belt here.

What the heck, you thought.

‘I’m on my way home, I’ll take it tomorrow.’ You replied, although you can’t hear text messages, but this conversation sounds cold, unlike your other conversations.

Once you sent this message, he logged out and you noticed the bus you were taking home, didn’t move for a while now. You stood up to see what’s going on, seeing the traffic caused by a car accident like 1000 miles away, and it’s getting dark already.

‘You know what? Maybe I will come take it now.’ You asked the bus driver to open the bus doors for you and got out, walking back to Minhyuk’s place since you weren’t that far from there.

Message unread.

Still unread.

He was taking a shower to relax, you are now by his house, and it’s already dark, only little shades of light remaining.

Grabbing some clothes to put on, and a towel on his shoulder, hair wet, leaving a trail of water drops wherever he walks to.

A knock on the door, you’re here.

“Minhyu-“ he opens the door as you call out his name, his breathing became short as soon as his eyes met yours, the hand that was rubbing the towel against his hair stopped its movements. He says nothing but looks at you with eyes widen and little starts in it.

Without you being able to completely say his name, your neck is pulled slightly by his two hands cupping your face, doing a step closer to you as he tilts his head to kiss your lips, oh so slowly, so gently. The whole scene seemed to you like a movie scene, especially when you felt everything moving so slow, your thoughts, his moves, except for one thing; his heartbeat that could be heard from miles away.

This taste reminds you of last night, yet much sweeter. It was chaste, pure, such as his heart. Which was still broken but with every second your lips are connected, it was healing slowly, as if you were picking up the pieces of it.

It was different from everything you had until now, yesterday he didn’t stop smiling while kissing you. at the moment, Minhyuk is focused on telling you how he feels by this infinite kiss. And then he pulls away.

Both of you open your eyes, his hands move from your neck to your hands, holding them tightly while staring into your eyes. You can still feel the taste of his lips on yours, the sweetest.

“You came back.”

-“I did because of the bel-“

“Don’t you dare to say anything about the belt.” He knew you too well, and the fact that when you’re embarrassed you try to talk about something else. -“Actually I have nothing to say.” You say, intertwining your fingers together.

“I do,” he whispers, closing the door that was open all this time.

-“Do this again.” You ask, almost begging.

“I- what?” He stops when you ask him to kiss you again.

You sigh and pull him closer, locking your lips together for another chaste kiss, shorter this time.

“You know there is no belt right? You wore a skirt yesterday.” He giggles after pulling away, forehead touching yours.

-“Really? Well... at least I didn’t come back for nothing.” Both of you chuckle, can’t wait to feel his lips again, so he doesn’t let you wait any longer.

“I love you.” He says after pulling away for the last time.

[etherealwaifgoddess]

Maybe I Am? - Chpt.2

Characters: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes

Summary: Steve takes a risk and the guys go out on a “date”. Master list HERE

Content Warning: first “date” cuteness, making out 

Word Count: 2.5k

Author’s Note: Hello lovelies! Today is one of those days where I am eternally grateful for having a “draft” option. Because honestly, ya girl is exhausted. So yay for drafts! Enjoy chapter two. I’m honestly too tired to give ya’ll a better note right now. :-\   XOXO - Ash

Chapter Two

Steeeeve [9:32:08PM]: Hey, it’s Steve.

Bucky Barnes [9:32:47PM]: hi steve

Steeeeve [9:33:15PM]: I had a lot of fun meeting up today.

Bucky Barnes [9:33:39PM]: me 2

Steve huffed staring at Bucky’s second generic response. He was usually so much more lively. Steve took a long sigh and started texting what he needed to get off his chest.

Steeeeve [9:35:21PM]: I’m sorry if I came off as confused or misleading. 

Steeeeve [9:35:26PM]: I didn’t mean to do that. But I am kind of confused right now. 

Steeeeve [9:35:35PM]: I spent so much time liking the idea of you, and you in real life was even more amazing than I could have expected. But I’ve never dated a guy before and I never expected to want to. And now I think I do. 

Steeeeve [9:35:49PM]: I’m sorry. This probably isn’t any less confusing. I’m apparently really bad at this lol. I guess what I’m trying to say is, will you go out on a maybe-date with me? I want to try and see how I feel. I don’t want to string you on, but I want to try.

Bucky stared at the flurry of texts coming into his phone. Damn, serial texter much? He read and re-read Steve texts a few times, chewing nervously his bottom lip, trying to find a response. He wasn’t willing to let his heart get trample on again, not after Brock. But he really liked Steve and if there was a chance Steve might like him too, it was too good to pass up. He had a distinct feeling he was going to regret it, but he tapped out the only honest response he could think of.

Bucky Barnes [9:44:13PM]: i like u 2 steve. i get that ur confused. lets try ur maybe-date and see how it goes? if it goes well cool, if not no hard feelings. k?

Steeeeve [9:45:20PM]: Thank you. Really, thank you for being so great about this. Can we get dinner one night this week? 

Bucky Barnes [9:45:55PM]: im free any nite but tues

Steeeeve [9:46:10PM]: I can do Friday night around 7. There’s a really great Mexican place a few blocks over from the gym if you’re willing to schelp all the way over to Park Slope. 

Bucky Barnes [9:46:31PM]: sounds good. see u then

Bucky sighed, putting his phone away into the pocket of his favorite old hoodie. He had a date. A maybe-date, but for some reason that felt good enough for him at the moment.

xxXxx

Steve discovered the best part of being able to text Bucky wasn’t just that their chatting was no longer limited to when they were both near a computer, but that they now had a full range of emojis, memes, and GIFs at their disposal. He could now send Bucky random funny things he found during the day and he felt a little proud when Bucky would send back a string of laughing emojis, knowing he had brightened the other man’s day a little. He had worried with their maybe-date looming things might be a little awkward but if anything they were going even better. By the time Friday came Steve was genuinely looking forward to their maybe-date. He had even gone out on Wednesday before his shift at the gym to pick up a set of clothes that were distinctly not gym wear. He couldn’t remember the last time he bought a button up shirt but he had to admit the blue and white checked shirt looked nice on him. He was trying not to stress over the maybe-date but he felt this gnawing need to know, definitively, if he was truly interested in Bucky, or just the fantasy of WinterBae. 

Steve raced home Friday to shower and change, hoping he’d left himself enough time to do all that and still make it over to Los Aztecas in time. Taking the time to slick back his hair and do a quick shave, Steve was hustling out the door only to realize he’d forgotten the bottle of wine once he got outside. After a fast double back for the wine he was on his way, making it to the tiny authentic Mexican restaurant with three minutes to spare. He had barely stopped walking when he saw Bucky hopping out of an uber. Steve felt a little flutter at the sight of Bucky and he took it as a good sign. 

Bucky looked amazing in his dark skinny jeans and a silky looking black shirt. A minimalist necklace was around his throat, the simple bar resting just below the wings of his collarbones. Steve noticed Bucky had swapped out the cheery beaded bracelets he’d worn on Sunday for a set of sleek silver and leather ones. He looked like he belonged on the cover of a fashion magazine and Steve felt ridiculous in what Sam had teased was his bible salesman outfit. 

“Heya.” Bucky greeted warmly, extending an arm for a half hug.

“Hey,” Steve echoed, hugging back with his free hand. “Ready for the best Mexican food of your life?” 

“Definitely, let’s go.” 

Steve led Bucky inside the little restaurant, its cozy decor making the place feel intimate instead of cramped. Steve had called ahead for reservations so they were whisked off to a table as soon as he gave the concierge his name. Bucky was looking around fascinated, taking in all the colorful decorations. 

“It’s really something, huh?” Steve prompted with a smile.

Bucky nodded in agreement, “Yeah, it’s beautiful. So much art packed into so little space. Thanks for bringing me here, Steve.” 

“It’s one of my favorite places in the area, mostly for the tacos but also for the art. I got my degree in fine art before I switched gears and went back to get certified in exercise science.” 

“That’s quite a switch.” Bucky laughed.

“Art will always be my first love, but it’s not exactly profitable. And once I got healthier I knew I wanted to help other people do the same. I was really sick as a kid and didn’t hit any major growth spurts until I was almost 21. After that, I worked out a lot getting used to my new body and fell in love with the gym.” 

“Wow. I’m glad you were able to get healthier, and it’s sweet you’re trying to give back to others with that.” 

“Do you go to a gym? I won’t be offended that it’s a competitor, I swear.”  

Bucky barked out a laugh, “No. God, no. I am perfectly happy with not having abs or a totally flat stomach as long as waffles exist.” 

Steve couldn’t help his eyes dropping to Bucky’s stomach which honestly couldn’t have had more than the smallest layer of padding across it. “That’s okay too. Waffles are pretty great.” 

The waitress stopped by to uncork their wine and drop off a basket of fresh tortilla chips and salsa verde. 

“What did you bring?” Bucky asked as he took the glass of white wine Steve had poured him.

“Albariño. A waitress here recommended it a few years ago and now it’s my go to. It’s light and crisp, and kinda citrusy? I’m not a wine snob but it’s damn good and goes really well with tacos. I hope you like white wine, I forgot to ask.” 

“I’ve yet to meet a white wine I didn’t like, so you’re safe.” Bucky sipped the wine and his eyes lit up, “Oh yeah, this is good. I’ll be hunting this down next time I go shopping.” 

“You can get it over at the little wine boutique near the farmers market in Sunset Park. They always have this kind.”

“Nice, I’ll have to check it out. My sister will love this the next time she visits.” 

The conversation flowed as the basket of tortilla chips disappeared, only ebbing when their platters arrived and they tucked into their food. Steve had ordered his usual taco platter while Bucky opted for the taquitos platter, an assortment of slow roasted meats wrapped in thin crispy shells. He let out a groan at his first bite that had Steve’s heart stuttering in his chest. The maybe-date had mostly felt like a friend-date up until that point, though Steve had to admit there was a tiny flutter of like there too. But the noise Bucky made and the expression on his face had Steve thinking anything but friends only thoughts. 

Bucky caught Steve staring at him as he licked a dribble of sauce off his bottom lip. He hadn’t gotten a distinct date-date vibe from Steve but the look on the blonde’s face was priceless. Bucky thought he probably had made a similar one the first time he saw Devon Sawa in Wild America when he was 12. He had never stood a chance of being straight after that. Testing the waters a little bit, Bucky smirked at Steve, making it abundantly clear he’d been caught staring. Steve flushed and Bucky’s smile widened. There might be hope after all.

Steve wasn’t sure if it was the wine or too many tacos but by the time dinner was over he felt glued to his seat. He hated knowing the evening was coming to an end and wanted to do something, anything, to prolong it. The waitress dropped off the sales receipt with a pen and Steve tried to steady his hand as he signed his name. He knew he needed to muster up his courage or he would be saying goodbye to Bucky in mere minutes.

“Thanks again for paying.” Bucky said after draining the last of his wine, “This was really nice.” 

“It was.” Steve agreed, seeing his chance, “You know, I have another bottle of this wine back at my place if you wanna come over for a bit. Maybe you could help me find that movie app you were telling me about for the Fire Stick?”

“Sure, I’m happy to help. I won’t say no to more of that wine either.” Bucky stamped down the hopeful cheering in his chest that Steve was inviting him over. The poor guy probably didn’t mean that anything would happen other than wine and tech help but Bucky could always dream. He would be respectful though, he resolved to himself. He’d never dated a guy who was questioning his sexuality before and Bucky didn’t want to push too far too soon. Bucky figured it was best to let Steve set the pace and just hope his heart didn’t get run over in the process. 

Steve’s apartment was only four blocks from the restaurant, a second floor walk up in an old converted brownstone. It was nicer than Bucky’s little hole in the wall apartment and even had a small second bedroom that Steve had set up as a home office. After giving Bucky a quick tour, he led them to the kitchen to pull another bottle of Albariño out of his cabinet. Passing a stemless glass to Bucky, he poured them both a generous amount of wine which they carried out to the living room so Bucky could show Steve the app he’d mentioned during dinner. A few clicks and a quick download later, Steve had access to a ridiculous amount of free movies. 

“This is so great.” Steve praised, clicking through the different options. “Oh I love this one!”

“Hm?” Bucky looked up from his glass to see Steve hovering over 10 Things I Hate About You. “Oh that one is great. I remember wanting to be Patrick Verona when I grew up after seeing that.” 

Steve gave an amused side eyed look at Bucky. “I think you did a decent job.” he teased, throwing on the movie out of sheer impulse.

Bucky laughed, “You’re sweet. But god knows I’ll never be that smooth.” 

“You’re better off than me. I’ve been told I’m hopeless on more than one occasion.” 

“You hold your own, Rogers.” Bucky assured him, reaching over to take Steve’s hand in his, stroking the pad of his thumb over the ridges of Steve’s knuckles. 

Steve blinked slowly, looking from their joined hands up to Bucky’s face. It felt good, that fluttery feeling stirring in his gut at the contact. He gave Bucky a smile and squeezed his hand gently, making sure his consent was clear.

The movie rolled and they sipped their wine as Patrick did his best to woo Kat. Bucky slowly nudged closer to Steve until he was pressed against his side, his head leaning against Steve’s shoulder. He was warm and comfortable and completely unwilling to move by the time Letters to Cleo played into the credits. 

“I can’t believe it’s after eleven already.” Steve yawned. 

Bucky yawned next, set off by Steve’s. “Same. I had a really good night, Steve.” He looked up curiously, wondering if Steve had found any new revelations on their maybe-date. 

“Me too. This was… really nice. Hey, um, I know this was a maybe-date, but maybe um…”

Bucky shifted so he could sit up taller and face Steve while he fumbled for words.

“I, um, I’d really like to kiss you right now.” Steve blurted out, looking equal parts excited and terrified. 

Bucky’s smile was like the sun. “Okay, yeah.” Bucky reached out to cup Steve’s cheek, going agonizingly slow to give Steve a chance to bolt if he needed it. He leaned up a little and Steve craned his neck down, tentatively meeting Bucky’s lips with his own. 

A soft press, a pause, another soft press, and then the kiss deepened, Bucky’s lips parting to slot Steve’s with his. Steve let out a choked off moan, unable to believe what he was doing and how good it felt. He let a hand rake through Bucky’s hair and it only made him want to feel more of the silky locks. The scent of cedar and teak from his cologne filled Steve’s nose and though it was very distinctly male, Steve couldn’t get enough of it. It was so much more than he could have expected but also not nearly enough. He was breathing raggedly when he finally pulled back, repressing a shudder at the well kissed expression on Bucky’s face. His full bottom lip was shining and red, his eyes heavy lidded and his chest heaving just as much as Steve’s. 

“Whoa.” Steve finally breathed out in amazement.

“Yeah, whoa.” Bucky agreed. “So does this help in sorting out if this was a date-date?”

“I think it was definitely a date-date.” 

“I’m glad. And do you think you’d want to try another date sometime?”

“When are you free next?” Steve chuckled, only half kidding. 

“Easy there, pal.” Bucky warned lightly, patting Steve’s ridiculously broad chest. “We’ll find a day again soon.” 

Steve nodded, knowing Bucky was right for wanting to take things slow. He led Bucky over to the door, giving him one last quick kiss goodbye before the brunette headed out into the early summer night. Steve was still floored by his own reactions to Bucky but it felt so right that he couldn’t agonize over it for long. 

[gyeomork]

Connections

(jackson wang x reader) 

genre: fluff, light smut, college au

warnings: sexual content, mild cursing

word count: 3.8k

a/n: i don’t capitalize my letters in this so if that bothers you, i’m sorry :( also italicized words mean they’re speaking english. also i lol don’t know what im talking about with all that “reading people” shit i just took a wyld guess but i hope you enjoy anyway ^3^

i enter my first class of the year, psychology 3. i take a seat, not really paying attention to who i sat next to. i take my laptop out of my backpack, place it on the table, flip it open and get ready to take notes. it was a new school year and i was not about to slack anymore. sophomore year was a complete shit show and i could not afford that this year, literally. i was skipping class like it was an olympic sport but guess what? tuition still had to be paid. i open up google docs and title the new document ‘19/8/19 notes, assignments & hw ’. the professor begins to speak and my full attention is now on her.

an hour passes and the class was wrapping up. “ok class the homework is for you all to make a powerpoint presentation on the person sitting next to you. you must analyze them as a person, describe their character traits and so on and so forth. think of it as an ice breaker activity and a way to make a new friend. more instructions will be posted online. i count 24 of you so i expect 24 emails on friday 23/8/19. presentations will be the following monday, if there are any questions feel free to email me. class dismissed.” i close my laptop and reach for my bag when i hear a deep familiar voice next to me say “hey! how’s it going?” i look to my right and see jackson, jackson wang. god not again. this man was handsome to say the very very least and a heart throb. i should know because i had him in psych 2 last year. we would almost always end up having to do a project together and almost always turn it in 2 minutes before it was due. it’s not like we were the best of friends and every time we met up we didn’t do work, it was just that we never really did meet up. every time he would text and ask i would be too scared to be in the same place as him because of how intimidated he made me feel. when we did meet up it was the night before so i absolutely had to go, for the sake of his grade. we wouldn’t talk much but when we did he was, for the most part, really nice. “hi.. jackson. it’s going.. good” i say quietly. “oh, that’s good. well if you’re free right now we could go get coffee to jumpstart this little project” god he had the cutest smile on his face. “oh yeah sure just let me get packed up” i said trying to avoid his gaze like the black plague.

after to fumbling with my belongings under the immense pressure his eyes were putting me under, we were finally able to leave. on the walk to the cafe, jackson sparks up conversation. “so, y/n, last year we never really talked much and i was a little let down because you actually seemed really cool. so i’m glad i get to do this project with you. i wanna get to know you” he looks over to me and grins widely. i return a small smile back. “where are you from?” he asked sounding genuinely curious. “the states” i mentally curse at myself for giving such a short, dry answer but he hums anyway. “i’m from china but i came here for a change, you know” “yup” i curse at myself again. a small silence passes, extra emphasis on small. “since you’re from the states do you-“ “speak english? yes” we both chuckle and god he was adorable. “oh cool so we could have our own semi-secret language” i give him a ‘you’re ridiculous’ look and we chuckle again. “so did you teach yourself english or did you go to an international school?” finally! i’m making semi-decent conversation. “international but i did do some studying on my own. so what about you? how did you learn hangul?” “ i loved watching and still do love watching dramas so one day i just got really annoyed with having to read the subtitles and just started teaching myself. i never really expected myself to get proficient at it, it just happened. then i thought i should put some use to it more than just dramas so i came here” wow the way i just rambled on just then. “ so how do you like it here?” he continues with the questions. “at first it was kind of hard to get used to because i went from using english every day and using hangul sometimes to using hangul every day and english sometimes” jackson nods in understanding. “ and then there are slang words that you need to learn and sayings and really understand the culture” he adds on. “ yes! exactly” regret of being so intimidated of him last year now fills me. he’s so easy to talk to. ugh am i stupid?

we reach the cafe and he opens the door for me “let me get that for you” “kam-sa-hap-nee-da!” i said in the most american accent i could do and he lets out an actual laugh that ascends me to the heavens. we both join the medium sized line. “you can just tell me what you want so you can go have a seat and i’ll bring it to you” this man is an angel. “iced americano, venti sized please and thank you” i say with a close-mouthed smile. “coming right up” he reciprocates the same smile. i make my way to a small booth in the corner by the window. i take out a small notepad and jot down things i’ve noticed about jackson. eventually, i get lost in thinking about how sweet he is and how easy he is to talk to and how his laugh is opposite of his deep voice and how his smile makes him look like a baby and then how he turns all hot again and oh my god i have a crush on jackson. like a cue, jackson comes and sets his and my coffee down and takes a seat across from me “thank you so much” “no problem” we both take a sip in unison. “analyzing me already?” he asks grabbing my notepad. all i had written was ‘really good energy’. really y/n? what the hell is that supposed to mean? he makes a ‘not bad’ face and sets my notepad back in front of me. i keep sipping and look out the window. “ok, ok” i could see him trying to hold in a snicker in the corner of my eye. i whip my neck to look and him and ask swiftly “what? why ‘ok ok’? what?”. “hm? nothing” he replies, still trying to hold in that laugh. “wah~ making fun of me already. at least i have something written down” he raises his eyebrows at me. “i have plenty of stuff written down in my head” “oh really?” i say in disbelief. “yes!” “ok. then prove it” i sit back and cross my arms. “just in the last 10 minutes, the things i’ve noticed ok. ready?” i just nod. “shy; when you laughed or smiled you didn’t show teeth. closed off; you chose the booth furthest away from other people. passive; you did nothing when i snatched your notepad. trusting; you trusted me with your drink and that i didn’t do anything to it. physical traits; well put together, pretty-“ i felt my face heat up and i had to stop him. “alright, alright you proved your point.” i waved him off and he laughs. “you asked for it” he says, laughter still in his voice. “i asked for you to prove yourself not show off” i say fake sulkily and extra pouty. he laughs even louder and makes a few heads turn. “ok jackson! people are looking.” i whisper shout and smile at him fully this time. “oh! you’re smiling” he points “you’re not shy around me anymore!” “ok you have to teach me how to read people like that” i rest my hand on my chin and my elbow on the table. “well, for starters, we could go back to the ‘getting to know you’ questions. so, when’s your birthday?”

after hours of talking, we had to leave simply because the cafe was closing. jackson looks at his watch and widens his eyes. “it’s 22:58 (10:58 pm). oh my god. do you have class tomorrow? i’m so sorry for keeping you out so late, i’ll walk you home. where do you live? oh my god i’m really so sorry” he apologized profusely. “no” i say flatly. “n-no?” he furrowed his eyebrows. “i don’t have class tomorrow it’s fine” i let out breathy laugh. “do you?” i raise my brows at him. “no” he sighs out in relief. “alright come on. let me walk you home” i barely take two steps when i stop and drop my head into my hands. “my.. RA. it’s past curfew. i’m dead” i say defeated. “oh my friend i can stay with- she has class tomorrow and she’s probably sleeping” i say gaining hope and losing it instantly. “i guess i’ll just take the warning, it’s only one” i start dragging my feet i the direction of my dorm. “you could.. stay the night with me. my RA isn’t as strict with the rules”. was that nervousness i heard in his voice? jackson? the same jackson that told me stories of him being bold and fearless? jackson? wang? never. “i don’t want to be a burden-“ i wave him off. “ you won’t be” he insists. i look into his eyes and really sink deep into those two chocolate pools. all that is visible is purity and good intentions; i trust him. “ok” i smile. “thank you” “no problem”

we get to his dorm and as he is unlocking the door he informs me that his 3 other roommates won’t be there until late that night so we’re safe from the teasing. he opens the door and lets me in first. it’s dark until jackson comes in and turns on the kitchen light. he sits around the island and i join him. i take this time to look around. right across from the kitchen was the living room that was in good shape for 3 boys, diagonal of the living room was the laundry room that was neat too, there was a walkway from the front door in between the laundry room and the kitchen leading to the living room, and one long hallway/walkway passing in between the living room and the kitchen continuing both ways to god knows where. there was also a sliding door in the living room leading to the balcony. “you must be hungry. do you want me to cook or is takeout ok?” come to think of it i haven’t eaten since lunch.  i was so absorbed in jackson that i didn’t even realize how hungry i am. “yeah, takeout is fine” “is pizza ok?” he says pulling out his phone. “oh pizza is more than ok” i say, starting to get excited “ok miss pizza what would you like on it?” “pepperoni please~” “alright.. and the pizza is on it’s way” he hops off the chair with ‘hmph’. he walks over to me and holds his hand out to help me down. “thank you” i take his hand and get off the chair. “come on i’ll give you everything you need”. he leads me to his room at the end of the short hallway without letting go of my hand. he turns on fairy lights that aren’t too bright but are enough to make everything visible. he turns to the left to his walk-in closet to retrieve me a hoodie and some sweatpants. he tells me that when i go in the bathroom there should be an extra toothbrush behind the mirror. i say thank you for the 100th time today and go to sit on his bed to wait for him. “i can put something on if you want” he come and sits next to me on the bed. “mm..” i think about all the shows that i need to catch up on and finally choose one. “can you put on ‘he is psychometric’?” “ohh yes! what episode are you on?” he gets excited. “the last one and it’s so good, i just never have time to watch” “me either” he puts it on the tv and the pizza arrives. “that was quick” i say shocked because my pizza takes at least an hour to come. “yeah the place is right down the block; convenient” he comes back to the room with pizza and shuts the door.

we finish ‘he is psychometric’ and both of the pizzas. “i’m gonna go change” i take jackson’s clothes to the bathroom. i change into the comfy clothes that smells like him and brush my teeth. i pull my hair into a bun that i ruled ok for jackson to see and leave the bathroom. “oh you look good in my clothes but don’t go stealing it now” he says like he’s my father and gives me a stern look. i giggle and say “ok” sarcastically. he goes in the bathroom to change as well. i pull my notepad and pencil out my bag and sit in front of what seems to be his work desk. i write more analyzations and now have to flip the page thanks to jackson teaching me how to properly read people. i’m on a roll until jackson presses his hands on my shoulders and yells “boo!” “oh my god!” i jump and turn around in the swivel chair. “i’m sorry i had to” he laughs at me hysterically. “yah~ don’t do that! stop laughing!” i smack him on the shoulder repeatedly. “ok ok, yah!” he grabs hold of my wrists and is now inches away from my face; staring into my eyes. “i-i’m tired. where can i sleep?” i had to break the growing silence. jackson lets go and backs away “you can sleep on my bed, i’ll set up on the couch” he said walking towards the door. “no” i command, stopping him in his tracks. “ when the guys get home they’re going to ask why you’re on the couch and from the stories you’ve told me, you’re not a good liar” he turns back around but still doesn’t move. “you’re right” he says grinning. “well get on the bed so that when i turn off the lights you won’t trip and break your neck” “alright, no need to reference that traumatic story ok, that was a very scary experience” i say getting on the bed. “i’m just saying if you had a night light-“ “ok! jackson! good night!”

i was on the edge of sleep when i felt a heavy arm fall around my waist and a warm body touching all of my back side. steady breathing was blowing on the baby hairs on the back of my neck. he was sleeping. i suddenly started to feel uncomfortable in the position i was in and couldn’t take it anymore. while adjusting and re-adjusting my lower half, i inevitably brush up against jackson’s area. he didn’t respond so i assumed he just didn’t feel it so i continued on the quest to getting comfortable, all the while rubbing against him with my ass. suddenly jackson grips my hip. “you better stop playing with me” he growls lowly into my ear, ultimately ruining my new underwear i got from victoria secret on sale but i couldn’t possibly be mad at him. the ache in my core was way too strong to ignore so i reply as seductively as i could “who said i was playing?” while pushing up against him. he groans and i feel him grow beneath me. he attaches his lips to my neck and sucks and nips and licks away. he finds my spot at the base of my neck and i let out a low moan. when he feels as of though he’s left a satisfactory mark, he licks and kisses the spot. he turns me to face him and wastes no time in connecting his lips to mine. passion begins to fill the room as he climbs on top of me. the hands that are on my waist start travelling under his hoodie i had on. his warm hands on my bare skin was setting me on fire. one of his legs that was positioned between my legs started to rub against my core. i moan loudly into his mouth and he doesn’t miss his chance to stick his tongue in my mouth. i break the kiss to catch my breath and jackson moves back to my neck to leave more marks. i was lost in my own pleasure when i come to my senses. “jackson” i breathe out. he removes his lips from my neck for a brief moment “yes baby”. “what about the guys?” “fuck the guys” he tugs at the bottom of his hoodie and he looks up at me asking for permission. i nod and he removes the hoodie swiftly as he begins kissing his way down my body.

i wake up the next morning with the comforter covering more than half of my face so the sunlight seeping through the window didn’t bother me too much. i was initially startled about where i was but i soon remembered. then i remember the events of the night before. i turn around to see the beautiful man that shared the events of the night before with me. the light highlighting his features perfectly. from his fluffy, messy hair to his soft, plump lips. i move to brush away the hair that was in his face and move down to caress his cheek. how did this even happen? and how did it happen so quickly? i guess it’s the jackson effect. he flutters his eyes open and when he sees me, he immediately gives the softest smile. he pulls me closer in his arms and whispers “good morning princess”. i hum and say good morning back. “how’d you sleep?” he kisses my forehead. “really good” i take a deep breath, inhaling his intoxicating natural scent. we stay like that for a while until we realize that we have to leave before the guys wake up and tease us. or the extreme awkwardness considering the fact that we may or may not have gotten a noise complaint. jackson gives me fresh clothes to leave in and i freshen up, doing most but not all of my morning routine due to the shortage of time. i grab my bag and exit the room with him. we’re walking down the hallway when i forget my notepad on his work desk and go back for it. on the way back to him i hear voices coming from the living room, i stay out of sight to eavesdrop. “jackson i swear to god you should do my- no our homework for the next week” one voice says, putting emphasis on ‘our’. “i shut my door, turn my music on my speaker up all the way, and even covered my ears with 2 pillows but could still fucking hear you two. jackson i swear to god if you don’t warn us next time” another voice says and lets out a deep sigh. “you guys i’m sorry i really didn’t plan-“ another voice cuts him off . “no you’re not sorry, you’re gonna be sorry when your ass is doing my physics homework for the next week” “i don’t even know how to do physics” “well you better figure it out” i couldn’t hear anymore of this, i had to save him. i walk out into the living room “um.. g-good morning” i wave awkwardly. damn! this is exactly what i wanted to avoid. they all look up at me with wide eyes “good morning” they say all out of sync. jackson stands next to me and holds my hand “this is my girlfriend, y/n” my heart drops, comes back up, does some somersaults, and skips numerous beats. “y/n this is jinyoung, jaebeom, and mark”. i give a small closed-mouth smile. “well, this was fun but y/n and i have places to be” he looks down at me and smiles “let’s go” jackson starts walking to the door and drags me along. i look back and wave goodbye and so do they, still looking baffled. jackson locks the door and we start walking down the hallway. ”i could tell you were uncomfortable so i had to get you out of there” he says with a hint of urgency in his voice and i laugh. “thank you but were we really that loud?” i ask putting emphasis on ‘that’. “i don’t know but what i do know is that i’m that good” i roll my eyes at him “yeah ok”. “so ‘girlfriend’ huh?” he looks down and scratches the back of his neck. “y-yea” his ears turn red. “you haven’t even taken me out on a date yet.” i scoff in fake disbelief. “i was hoping that i could go on a date today and then i could confess to you but i guess i got a little ahead of myself” “you think?” we chuckled. “confession? how long did you like me?” “ever since i had to do that first project with you in psych 2. whenever i’d ask to meet up and you said you couldn’t it always made me think you didn’t like me. and when we did you were kind of standoffish so i gave up. until you sat next to me yesterday” he smiles thinking about it. “i’m sorry that i made you think that i was just so intimidated by you and your good looks and what not.” “good looks?” he raises his eyebrow at me. “take the compliment or i’ll take it back” “oh no thank you thank you”

we leave his dorm building to the parking lot and his car. “i changed up our schedule for today a little bit.” he unlocks the doors and we get in. “what did you change?” he starts the car so the hot air doesn’t literally suffocate us. “after we visit your dorm we have to go to the mall”. he takes my hand and intertwined our fingers. “the mall? why?” i look over at him and furrow my eyebrows. he looks at me and smirks “to get you back that cute little underwear i tore off you last night” brings my hand to his lips and kisses it.

[the-is13]

A Pinch of Salt

Description:  You didn’t expect to be working tonight. It was a regular Friday night, or so you thought. Two beautiful men happen to come into the small pizza joint, one with particularly captivating hazel eyes.

Characters: Jared, Jensen, Reader, OFC’s OMC’s

Relationship: Jared x Reader

Warnings:  None really, cursing? A bit of fluff

Word Count: 4046, wow that surprised me

A/N: So this is my first fic, I read a lot but have never wrote anything. This stemmed from a dream I had. For the purpose of this fic its set in early stages of the boys filming Supernatural. Jared is a bit younger, late twenties. Him and Gen are friends but nothing more. This purely fiction! I mean no harm to J2 or their families, I love them all the to moon and back. Any hate will not be tolerated. Please be kind and let me know if you liked it! 

Beta: A GIANT shoutout to @team-free-will-you-idjits-67 for being a beta and pretty much helping me get this right, haha pun intended. You rock chick. 

Oversized t-shirt, fuzzy socks, warm cup of tea, and netflix. That’s how you typically spend your Friday nights since you aren’t one to go out or party. You like your space.You’re content with the quietness of just sitting and reading a good book or just watching netflix by yourself.

That’s how you’d like to be spending this friday night, but alas, Susan called in to work.Again. Apparently her little boy is sick, for the third time this month. You’re pretty sure he’s fine and that she just has a date. It wouldn’t bother you if she would just ask and tell you the truth, but of course, she lies. Well, at least you think she’s lying.

Oh well, more tips for you.

So here you are, at Pete’s Pizza on a Friday night. It's not too busy, but its not slow either. Pete’s is a pretty good place to eat, lots of beer and, of course, plenty of variety on pizza. The owner, and head pizza master, Jimmy, is an amazing cook and is always trying new things to put on pizzas. It's a popular spot. If you didn’t work there, you would probably eat there too.

You’re busy turning in another order for this weekends special; spicy taco pizza with extra jalapenos, when your coworker Nancy bumps you roughly.

“Sorry, y/n!” She went to turn away from you and tend to her own tables when she exclaimed, “Oh! A few guys just sat in your area.” She placed her hand beside her face like she was trying to cover a secret she was about to tell you, but you knew whatever she had to say wouldn’t be quiet. “They seem like a rowdy bunch too.”

You sigh, “Great. First the Johnson’s, now these guys.”

Everyone knew the Johnson’s, they were regulars, the kind of customers you hate: rude, always blaming you for everything, and nitpicking every single thing. od forbid there be an onion out of place on their pizza. They had five kids. Seriously, five, and they were ALWAYS misbehaving. But of course, it was never their fault, according to their parents. You thought differently, they all needed a good whoopin’. On top of it all, they never, ever, tipped. No matter how hard ANYONE tried. It was very taxing to say the least.

Grabbing your pen and paper you waltzed off to table 8 and tried to put on your best smile. You really wanted to make some money tonight, afterall you needed to pay the bills.

“Welcome to Pete’s! What can I..” Looking up from your pad you started to stutter as you noticed who was in front of you. This couldn’t be. You had to be dreaming, it wasn't real. You stared into his hazel eyes, the captivating blues, greens, and speckles of brown. He smiled, oh lord, his smile, so bright and white.

“Wh-what can I start you off with tonight?” You stuttered. Wow, you made a sentence. You were pretty sure you were going to faint.

“I think I’ll have a beer, what ‘bout you Jay?” Oh god, his booming voice, if he spoke another word you might turn into a puddle right then and there.

“Yeah, beer sounds great right now.” said his friend, his best friend. Of course you knew him, well, knew of him.

“I think we’ll just take two beers for now” He smiled politely brushing some hair from his face.

“I-I, I’ll.. be, right.. B-back with those” You smiled back, trying not to sound so foolish, but damn, how could you not? Jared fucking Padalecki and Jensen fucking Ackles just walked into Pete’s, and sat in your area!

You let Nate, the bartender that night, know you needed two beers asap. Then you whipped out your phone to text your best friend, Hannah. You two had been through hell and back, knowing each other practically since birth or before since your moms attended lamaz together. She shared your healthy obsession with Supernatural and all things cooperating. She had to know what was happening. Now!  

Y/n:OMG!! HANNAH YOURE NEVER GOING TO BELIEVE THIS!!!

She quickly wrote you back, knowing you had to work this evening

H: What’s up? You get a $100 tip or something, ‘cause that WOULD be unbelievable!

y/n: Wow bitch, thanks. NO this is MUCH MORE EXCITING!!

H: Well.. go on with it…

y/n: JARED AND JENSEN ARE HERE

H: …

You’re joking right?

y/n: OMG NO! WHY WOULD I JOKE ABOUT THIS!? I KID YOU NOT, THEY ARE BOTH HERE SITTING IN MY AREA!!!!!! IM GOING TO DIE!!!

H: BREATHE! You need to be cool, or at least as cool as you can be. Hehehe

y/n: Shut the fuck up, im cool.

H: uhhhhuh you keep telling yourself that.. ;)

You waited for her to be serious, since she probably thought you were joking. The realization of your truth hadn’t hit her yet or else she’d be freaking out as much as you were. You waited, watching her little dots letting you know she was indeed typing back to you. You didn’t get a chance to read it as you were snapped out of your world with your best friend by Nate.

“Eh hemm, y/n, you busy over there, or you wanna take these beers?” You nearly jumped out of your skin. He had been staring at you, watching you frantically typing away on your phone. “OH! Yes, thanks Nate,” you said with a wink. Nate and you flirted all the time but you never really meant anything by it. You were pretty sure he had a crush on you though. You could feel him staring at your ass as you walked away.

Approaching their table you made sure to take some deep breaths. In and out Y/n, in and out, you reminded yourself. With a polite smile you were able to speak, “Here’s your beers, gentlemen.” You didn’t want to seem like the fangirl you were, knowing their names, so you stuck to the informalities. “Are y’all ready to order?” As you smiled once again, trying to keep your excitement under control.

Jensen spoke first this time “Yeah, I think so. That speciality pizza sounds pretty good darlin’. I think we’ll have two with a side of cheesy sticks,” he said before sending a quick wink your way. You gulped, knowing that he definitely noticed you staring at them. Who would blame you though? They were such fine men, and they knew it.

Scribbling down their orders legibly as possible, all while trying not to fling your pen out of your hand like an idiot you chirped, “I’ll put that right in, be out soon”.

You went to grab their menus, meeting Jared’s eyes once more and drowning in the sea of colors, causing you to accidentally knock the salt over on the table. You watched in horror as the top flung off and covered Jared’s lap with salt.

“Oh! My gosh! I’m, so, so sorry! Let me get a towel, I’ll clean this up, sorry.” You rambled. You thought you were playing it cool, but obviously not. You scolded yourself for being so clumsy before you ran off to the kitchen. Handing Jimmy their order quickly, you went around the door of the kitchen to the closet to grab a rag.

Jensen nudged Jared as they watched you run away “Dude, I think she knows who we are. he seemed a little flustered, doncha think?” He hit Jared in the shoulder, noting how he wasn’t phased that his lap was saltier than the ocean.

Jared winced as he rubbed at his arm,”Ow! What?”

Jensen stared at Jared with a ‘are you serious?’ look. “Didn’t you hear me? I think she recognized us.” Jared’s attention had returned to the direction you disappeared in. SNAP SNAP SNAP  “Dude, what is your deal?!” Jensen spoke with a little more irritation as he waved his hands in front of Jared’s face.

Jared finally turned to him and stuttered a little “Uhh, yeah, whadya say Jay?”

Smacking his forehead a little dramatically Jensen exclaimed, “Have you heard a word I said? Like, at all?!” He talked louder than he had wanted, drawing more attention to them than he planned.

“Do you really need to shout?” Jared questioned. “I Just wanted to go out and relax tonight and you’re trying to make a scene!” He snapped.

Finally looking down at his lap he tried to gather as much of the salt he could and dump in onto the table. Scooting back in his chair, he stood up to shake some salt off but heard a soft ompf as he stood. He bumped into you, nearly knocking you down.

Now it was his turn to apologize.

Spinning around quickly he grabbed your wrist before you could tumble all the way down, yanking you a little hard as you ended up with a face full of his chest. You couldn’t complain though, he smelled delightful.

You crained your head upwards to look at him, seeing his mouth moving but the words not registering in your head. You probably looked like a fish out of water, jaw slack, eyes wide.

“You okay?” He repeated. Finally, you snapped out of it. Blinking rapidly you managed one word “Yeah..” Jared smiled softly, “You sure? You’re sorta staring at me like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Retreating from his hold, you internally scolded yourself for the third time of the night. This was Jared Padalecki. You couldn’t be looking at him like a damn knight in shining armor. This was not a fairytale. This was real life, or so you hoped. You straightened yourself out a bit “Uhm, yeah, I’m good, so sorry again. Let me clean your table,” you clipped out.

“It’s okay, no big deal really. It’s not like you a-salt-ed me, or anything,” he said giggling, trying to lighten the mood. But failing to contain his laughter from his own joke. Jensen smacked his forehead once again and thoroughly rolled his eyes.

You lifted your head and just stared at him, was he kidding? You couldn’t tell, all you heard was assault. Immediately you assumed the worst, he was going to press charges because you spilled salt. My god how stupid were you! So fucking stupid, you should’ve just stayed home!

“I’m so sorry Mr. Padalecki, please don’t sue me,” you squeaked out. Your voice barely above a whisper, afraid you’d burst into tears on the spot.

Realizing you didn’t take his joke well, he started to back track. Holding his hands up almost defensively. “What? No! I was joking! It was a joke! I’m not going to..” then it clicked, you called him ‘Padalecki’.

“Wait, you know me?” He said with a raised, questioning brow.

“Uhh.. hmm.” Stuttering slightly, your brain went into overdrive to try and explain yourself. But it was working too fast trying to form the correct words. You cleared your throat trying to remain calm and collect yourself. “I guess you could say that, I mean I do watch ‘Supernatural’..” you looked towards Jensen “So yeah, I guess I do know who you are, both of you.”

Jensen’s face lit up “I told you dude! I can always tell when they know!” he exclaimed.

You could feel heat creeping into your cheeks, embarrassed because you thought you were playing it cool. Maybe Hannah was right. You were just a waitress at a pizza joint, and this was Jared fucking Padalecki we were talking about here.

Without saying a word, you began to turn away and head back to the kitchen or to check on your other tables. Hell, almost literally, anywhere but right here.

“Hey…” Jared had snached your wrist once again, “Don’t worry about it, its okay.. D-do you want to take a picture.. Being a fan of the show and all..” he trailed off motioning to Jensen.

“Uh, yeah.. Sure, as long as y’all don't mind.”

They both chuckled lightly, wishing you could hear that sound forever. It was such a beautiful sound, much different in person. “Nah, it's no problem, afterall we try to maintain a good relationship with our fans,” Jensen drawled with a wiggle of his brows. You weren't sure if he was just being friendly, or if he was displaying some of Dean’s flirtiness.

You were still slightly embarrassed as you pulled out your phone quickly, closing your recent conversation with Hannah. You tried to angle your phone to get a good selfie, but you couldn't really capture the behemoth of men behind you. Jared lightly and plucked your phone from your grasp, knowing you were struggling to get a good picture. “Here, let me..”

Click click click

He took a few pictures to make sure you got a good one. You had the the attention of almost the entire restaurant now, since you spilled the salt all over Jared and were now snapping pictures with the two of them.

“There ya go, I’m sure you got a good one.” Jared said handing your phone back to you.

“Thanks..” You trailed off, looking down to try and hide the blush creeping onto your cheeks as your fingers brushed his in the exchange.

“Y/N!! Y/N!!” Mrs. Johnson yelled from across the room waving her hand like the lunatic she is. “Y/N!! Come here!”

Huffing a bit, you quickly said additional ‘sorry’s’ to Jared for making a mess and ‘thanks’ to them both for the pictures. Taking a deep breath, before dealing with the table from hell, you turned on your heel making your way to their table.

Meanwhile, that was the first time Jared had heard your name, y/n. You were too caught up in who you were looking at to introduce yourself upon taking their order. ‘Y/n’ he thought it was a beautiful name.

“Yes, Mrs. Johnson, how can I help you?” You said as you plastered on a fake smile.

“We need more napkins, what do you keep stocked in these things? Two napkins?” she said in a snarky tone while tapping the napkin dispenser. Trying to refrain from commenting on how her children used half the restaurants napkins because they were either such a mess or building a damn castle in the bathroom with them, you made your smile even wider.

“I’ll run and get more right now Mrs. Johnson.”

Turning away from their table you were halted by her grabbing your elbow and not so whispering in your ear. “That performance was horrendous, spilling salt all over that poor boy, just for him to take a picture with you. Pathetic.”

You ripped your arm from her grasp and gave a tight lipped smile, “I’ll go get those napkins now, be right back.” Heading towards the backroom once more, you heard her muttering to her husband how ‘sad and pathetic’ your life was. Like she should give a damn about your life.

Sometimes you wished people would just mind their own damn business and keep their mouths shut. Afterall, that's what you did. You were never one for confrontation. Even as a child, you hated arguing with your older brother or your parents, you just kept to yourself. You never really stood up for yourself. You took the blame for so much, even if it wasn’t your fault or you didn't do it, you took it. You didn't want to upset anyone.

You dropped a huge pile of napkins off with the Johnson’s after taking Jared and Jensen their pizza’s. All while Mrs. Johnson kept nonchalantly whispering about you, either to herself, Mr. Johnson, or ‘non-directly’ at you. It was really tiring.

You tried to keep a smile on while checking on your other customers and, of course, Jared and Jensen. You really wanted to talk to them about the show, their lives, or anything else for that matter. It was still hard for you to believe this was real.

Between the Johnson’s, their herd of children that you constantly cleaned up after, the other customers, and Jared and Jensen, you were feeling a little worn out. Nate could tell, he kept asking if you were okay, to which you always replied with a kind smile, and ‘yup i’m good’. It was nice for him to be concerned about you. He was always a nice guy. He never pushed too far with the harmless flirting, never talked behind your back, and he always made sure you got your tips. It was refreshing after being walked on most of your life.

Jared and Jensen ate their pizza slowly and drank their beer a little faster than they ate their pizza. You kept bringing them refills and could tell they were getting a little loose. Not that you were to judge, it must be hard being famous and all. Plus, you pretty much ruined their evening. They kept smiling at you though, letting you know everything was fine, and damn, were they.

After the Johnson’s finally left and things calmed down a little, you stood behind the bar with Nate making idle chit chat.

“Do you know them?” He asked, pointing to where Jensen was currently laughing at Jared for some joke he made. “I saw you taking pictures with them..”

You were currently making heart eyes at the pair, after all, who wouldn't? They had some damn good genes. You realized Nate was talking to you and not a customer. “Oh, what? Know them? Do you not?”

He just shook his head ‘no’ looking at you like you had two heads. “Am I supposed to?” he questioned.

“NATE!” You said just a bit too loud, causing Jared and Jensen to look your way. You just smiled and turned toward Nate, blocking yourself from their view. “Do you really not know who they are?” He shook his head again peeking around your shoulder to look at them.

You tugged his shoulder and scolded him for staring. Now you were pot calling the kettle black. “They’re famous Nate, that’s Jared Padalecki and Jensen Ackles. They star on the show ‘Supernatural’, it's like the best sci-fi, drama, family show, ever!” He was still looking at you like you were crazy. “Nate c’mon, you've never watched it?”

You could tell he was wracking his brain by the look on his face.

After about a minute, or what felt like it, he finally spoke up. “Hmmm, Jensen… Ackles… I think he was on Smallville right?” You’re face lit up with excitement but you tried to contain yourself. “YES! Yes, he was! He played Jason!”

“Soo, you took a picture with them?” He pondered. You looked a little dumbfounded, would he not have? I mean, what if he was to meet someone famous? Just pass them by? Nate could tell by the way your face was twisting up in that sour look he thought was so cute, you were not pleased with his answer. “I mean that's pretty cool right? You can tell your grandkids you met ‘the stars of supernatural’,” he said a little too sarcastically as he waved his hands in the air like he could see the headlines of it.

You were still a little offended he was making fun of you but laughed it off and lightly pushed his shoulder. “Oh stop it Nate! You’re just jealous.” He smiled a little but then noticed the guys you had been making heart eyes at were getting ready to leave. “Hey..” he pointed in their direction, “I think your friends are leaving.”

Turning around quickly and nearly tripping over your own feet again, you noticed they were started to fight over the check. You could barely hear them arguing about who paid last time and who drank more. Mustering up all the courage you could, you put one foot in front of the other and marched towards their table. They both looked up at you curiously. “Beer’s on me guys, afterall you put up with the disaster I made earlier and were kind enough to take a picture with me”

They smiled widely, both slightly tipsy, you could tell their emotions were genuine, which made your heart flutter.

Jensen spoke first, running his tongue out across his lip, “That’s mighty kind of you darlin’,” he drawled, his southern accent peeking out more from the alcohol.

“Jay stop flirting, you’re probably scaring her! Then she won’t pay for anything!” Jared said with a wink and grin that made your knees weak.

You took in their drunken state light heartedly. They were much more kind than the other guys who would come in, get drunk and try to cop a feel. Not that you would mind if it was them though.  You’d let Jared or Jensen feel you up all day or night.

You waved Jensen off, “Its fine, not like I’ll ever see y’all again..” you trailed off, the thought making you a little sad. You had enjoyed watching them interact, even if it wasn’t with you.

Jensen piped up with a smile that would shatter the moon, “I wouldn’t be so sure about that, sweetheart”, he winked and was out the door in a flash. That left just you and Jared, standing there like awkward teens at the school dance.

Jared nervously ran his hand through his hair and scratched the back of his neck. You were in awe. He looked so beautiful, even with the nervous behavior he was displaying.

“W-would you mind if I asked you for your number?” He stammered

You blinked, what was happening, was Jared fucking Padalecki asking you for your number? You pinched yourself and jumped, he was still there, awaiting your answer.

Noticing your apprehension he began to turn away “It’s fine if you don’t wanna give it to me, I know we just met and all..”

“YES” you replied a bit too eagerly. “I mean, yeah, you can have my number,” you spoke as you grabbed your notepad and quickly wrote it down, handing it to him.

He looked at you shyly, “Thank you, y/n for everything.” He flashed that bright smile and waved before turning to leave.

You stood there for a moment longer, shocked that what just happened, had indeed happened. You gave Jared PADALECKI your number.

Maybe he wouldn’t even contact you, maybe he was just trying to be nice. That was it, he was just being nice, I mean, from what you had seen about them in the media, they were generally nice guys.

You finally moved from your place, noticing that you got off in 10 minutes. You decided to just go ahead and start your cleaning duties and head home. You were wiping down Jared and Jensen’s table picking up a few napkins noticing something written on one. Flipping it over you had to slap your hand over your mouth to stifle the gasp that left your lips.

“Y/n, you are too beautiful and kind to be working here, and you are not pathetic. I did kinda like the a-salt though ;)”

Was delicately written and tucked inside was a crisp $100 bill, by far the best tip you’d ever received. Hannah would be eating her words and you couldn’t wait to tell her.

You did the rest of the cleaning and closing with Nate rather quickly. Anxious to get out of there and phone your best friend.

Biding goodnight to Nate and Jimmy, you rushed to your car, about to grab your phone to call Hannah when a little ding let you know you had a text. Figuring it was her, you click the screen to light it up. Of course you had 12 texts from her wondering what was happening and how she needed the ‘dirty details’. Rolling your eyes you scrolled down noticing you had a text from a number you didn’t recognize. Opening it, you could have burst into tears from the fire in your heart.

I loved the pizza, beer and taking a picture with a beautiful girl, hope to see you soon. :)  -Jare

Clutching your phone to your chest tightly you sighed and pinched your leg.

Ow, nope not dreaming, you thought to yourself. Now you really couldn’t wait to get home and tell Hannah.

[anastasiaskarsgard]

TO THE ANON THAT ASKED FOR A SMUTTY CHEATER BILL STORY HERE YA GO. I INITIALLY DELETED THE REQUEST BECAUSE I DONT CONDONE CHEATING BUT THEN I THOUGHT, ITS FAN FICTION. NO ONE TAKES IT SERIOUSLY AND IVE GOTTEN A FEW REQUESTS FOR THIS SO HERE YA GO.

Here’s part 1: https://anastasiaskarsgard.tumblr.com/post/188138288236/this-is-a-really-involved-request-so-im-breaking

And here is PART 2

Warning!!! Smut 18+ mature content.

As we pulled into the parking lot, everything hit me at once. I had literally witnessed my dog get murdered, the man I thought was perfect was Satan himself, I have no belongings, I don’t know anyone but Randi here. But then I remembered all the good like I was free, I’m not dead, I have the best friend in the whole world, I already found a job and got paid a lot for basically getting to be near the hottest guy ever and there’s photographic evidence, and literally the world is my oyster. I even get to go to Canada! Hayden Christensen lives there! I look over at Randi and can’t help but laugh when I see her sassy face. She is not a fan of feeling sorry for yourself. “Sorry, I’ll stop. They’re happy tears! I swear! I’m so happy I have you, and we’re going on this adventure. I’m just grateful.”

“Wow. Don’t cry Bitch. You’ll fuck up your make up.” my best friend joked.

I chuckled, and gave her a hug, then stood straight out of the car and let her lead the way to see if everyone had gotten a table together in Mortons.

We found everyone taking their seats. I took the closest open seat next to the photographer and Randi sat between Andy and Bill across from us. I didn’t want to look at Bill and have Randi give me shit, so I read the entire menu like 3 times to avoid looking up. We all ordered, and then Andy had the idea for everyone to introduce themselves:

“Ok since everyone is from all over the place, let’s do a fun little ice breaker. I’ll start. My name is Andy, I’m from the beautiful country of Argentina and I’m a Director as I’m sure you all know, let’s be more original, I know! Name your fear! I’m afraid of drowning.”

“My name is Randi, I’m from Kalamazoo Michigan, I’m an artist and I’m afraid of flying.”

“Ok hi everybody! I’m Bill, I’m from Stockholm Sweden, I’m a human and I’m afraid of being alone.”

I giggled like an idiot, froze and looked over at Randi, who was smiling at me, shaking her head. Dammit.

“My name is Barbara and I’m Andy’s sister, and I am afraid of creepy crawly things.”

“I’m Maria from Brazil, I am photographer and I fear bad lighting and flaky models. Thank goodness for Liv appearing like magic and save the day.” She smiled at me warmly and squeezed my hand.

I felt everyone’s eyes on me, and could feel my heart pounding in my chest. I couldn't bear to look at Bill or Randi, so I stared down in my lap and could feel my face heating up. “I’m Liv from Las Vegas, I guess I’m a model for now and I’m afraid of being a failure, velociraptors, roller coasters, centipedes and public speaking.” I chuckled uncomfortably. I ramble when I’m nervous.

“I’m afraid of velociraptors as well,” Bill laughed. “Jurassic Park ruined me as a child.”

Everyone laughed heartily at Bill’s expense but I felt appreciative of him making my ridiculous fear seem more credible and drawing attention away from my obvious nervousness. I snuck a peek at him and he winked at me playfully.

I didn't know what to think of this beautiful man. My initial reaction to him had been negative. He seemed like every other snobby Hollywood type, complete with crazy girl problems, but as the day progressed, he surprised me over and over with how genuine he seemed to be.

As lunch went on, Randi and Maria were talking technical terms, so Bill and I looked at each other and just smiled and shrugged our shoulders. It wasn't like we were being ignored, just everyone except us was wrapped up in their own conversations. I was content with that too, but then an ice cube flew into my cleavage.

My eyes shot open and I observed a very amused Bill trying to contain his laughter but not doing a very good job.

”I promise I’m not an asshole. I have just been trying to get your attention since we got here. So how long you been in LA?” He asked me like i was the most interesting thing he’d ever encountered.

”What time is it? Less than 24 hours.”

His eyes went wide and he choked on his drink a bit, then began to laugh at himself . ”wow, and you already booked a major job? Who is your agent? Are you an actress or just gorgeous... I mean a model.”

”you are super smooth Bill. I’m kidding! Don’t pout you’ll get wrinkles.” I had to give him some shit. “I don’t have an agent because I don’t have any interest in fame at all.”

He looked impressed by that for some reason. ”so what brought you here?”

”Randi is my best friend, and I needed a change of scenery.” I said making sure to avoid eye contact. I knew I was just being paranoid, but I felt like he could look into my soul, with the intensity he was looking at me with. I’m a terrible liar, so I’m convinced if I look at him, he’ll see I’m not being honest. I didn't want to mention the literal hell id escaped to be here.

I could still feel his gaze on me, and I caught Andy looking between us with an unreadable expression. He's a director so he probably can read people really well.

Shit. I’m probably just being my normal neurotic psycho self. No one probably gives two shits about me, and this is all in my head. These people are famous and successful. I’m just another one of the millions of girls that they encounter in LA.

Maria tapped my shoulder. “Hi honey, can you switch seats with your friend? I want to show some my work?”

I smiled and agreed, but the butterflies in my stomach were going crazy as I took my seat by Bill. He was texting so I got my phone out to play a game or two. Suddenly I felt Bill’s leg press up against mine. I looked over at him, but he just continued with his phone, but was clearly smirking. Just then The food arrived and I was famished, so all other thoughts were abandoned.

“Wow! You eat real food!” Andy exclaimed.

“Oh it’s not fair! Liv has always eaten whatever she wants and doesn’t gain a pound.” Randi whined.

I blushed feeling all the attention on myself again. I wanted to fade into my surroundings like a chameleon. “I like to eat.”

I looked at Bill and he was off his phone but I could tell he was watching me as he ate.

“What?” I asked finally, when he didn’t stop looking at me.

“You’re very interesting.” He said.

“How?” I scoffed.

“Well for starters you’re drop dead gorgeous but you don’t like being the center of attention. Am I right?”

“I wouldn’t go with drop dead gorgeous, maybe conventionally attractive. There’s not really anything wrong with me, but there’s nothing to write home to your mother about either.”

He chuckled. “See? There you go again. You’re humble and funny too.”

I could feel my face burning so I excused myself to go use the restroom, but Bill said he’d show me where it was since he needed to smoke and make some calls.

I was fully aware where it was, but agreed and figured I’d let him show me. He turned before we reached the bathroom and he opened a door that appeared to almost blend in to the wall, revealing a very plush, luxurious bathroom with a large vanity.

“Oh my gosh is this like the Secret VIP potty?” I asked. I had always heard about secret lounges and VIP cool stuff so I was ecstatic to actually see one. I probably seemed like such a dork but I didn’t care.

“Something like that.” He said following me inside and locking the door behind him. I turned around to tell him there only appeared to be one toilet, when he took a couple steps and closed the distance between us and kissed me, pinning me against the wall.

He pulled back and looked down into my eyes, “I’ve wanted to do this since I saw you.” He said deepening the kiss again.

I stepped aside to move out from under him and caught my breath. “Your girlfriend though!”

“It’s over with her. It’s been stale a long time” He said as he wrapped his arm around my waist. “Don’t worry, I'm sick of her. I much rather have you. Do you have a boyfriend?” He pulled me against him again and my God the man was so good looking.

“Nope. I’d have kicked you if I did, I’m not a cheater.” I couldn’t believe his lips were on me. I tried to think and get ahold of myself and be rational, but as he kissed down my neck and groped my breasts, it was getting hard to remember why this wasn’t the best idea ever.

“. Listen, you’re very attractive Bill. Like best looking guy I’ve ever seen attractive, and I’m flattered, but we should get back. They’re gonna wonder.”

“This dress is killing me though, and youre so so beautiful.” He groaned lustilly, as he slowly slid my dress’ strap down, continuing his way down, kissing down my throat to my chest. He exposes my breast and looks up to make sure I wasn’t going to object, but when I just bit my lip, he placed his mouth on my nipple, suckling at my breast. He releases it with a popping sound, and slips a hand under my skirt, rubbing me through my panties, as he sucksin a breath through his teeth, before going for my other breast. This motherfucker is gonna kill me. How can one man be so hot and what did I do in a past life to deserve this shit? Seriously universe? How do I carry on knowing his tongue was on my nipple?

He hiked my skirt up to brush his fingertips across my folds. He bit my bottom lip and then pulled his hand out from under my skirt, and sensually tasted his fingers before leading me to the large round cushioned ottoman at the vanity, trying to get me to sit.

“What are you up to? You’re - this is so bad.” I tell him as he pushes me down lightly as he kisses me passionatly.

He looked deep in my eyes. “Please let me taste you and make you feel good. I don’t expect anything from you and I don’t do this type of thing ever, but I’ve honestly never wanted to see what someone tastes like more in my life.”

FUCK. Who in the hell could say no to that?

All I could do is nod, too shocked to fully comprehend that this was really happening.

He got on his knees in front of me and I couldn’t help but admire his gorgeous features. As crazy as it sounds, he had the most beautiful bone structure; severe and angular, yet it was offset by his big green eyes with their long sweeping lashes, luscious plump full lips, and adorable perfect little child-like nose. His hair was silky and thick and he smelled like mint and soap.

I watched as he pulled my underwear off and placed them in his pocket, before leaning me back with one hand, as the other lifted my dress. He bit my inner thigh gently, but still sent a thrill up my spine causing me to visibly shudder.

“I haven’t even started yet,” he smirked up at me cockily, before pressing his mouth to my sex before I had time to reply. I’d had my pussy eaten before, but nothing like this. There was no sign of nervousness or insecurity that some men display when they go down there. Like you can tell they’re not sure what the fuck to do, but Bill was sure of himself and seemed to genuinely love doing it. He was so enthusiastic and it felt so amazing. I never had done something like this in my life, and wouldn’t even kiss on a first date, yet here I am. I was scandalized and aroused, and so close to an orgasm it was shocking.

“You gonna cum for me baby?. I love how you look right now.... Cum on my face.... please?” He pleaded and pushed another finger inside of me. I couldn’t look at him. It was all too much.

I let out a moan as he moved his fingers and tongue in such a combined effort, that I reached out and gripped his hair, pressing his face against me as my release crashed down on me, violently shaking me, and making everything go white, as it wound down. It was seriously one of the most intense orgasms I’ve ever had, and it took me longer than a polite amount of time to realize I was still holding his face, and immediately released him”I’m so sorry, I didn't realize I- .”

“Sshhh.” He said chuckling and came up and kissed me deeply. “Can you taste yourself on me?”

I nodded shyly, looking away to break eye contact. He was so intense and I wasn’t sure what he would want me to do to return the favor.

He put his finger under my chin and pulled my face back over to look in his eyes. “You’re beautiful.”

I looked back at him, waiting to see what he did next. I was surprised he wasn't taking his pants off, but was too shy to try and take them off myself. I really wanted to though, and that surprised me. I wanted him to fuck me and wasn’t going to think about it, just do it. Like Nike.

He stood up and helped me to my feet, and helped smooth my dress out. He pulled me into another kiss and I could feel how excited he was.

“Let me make you feel nice now.” I mentally scolded myself for saying something so not sexy but just looked up at him with my best doe eyed look.

“You’re so cute. Don’t worry about me, just yet. I don’t want a quickie in a bathroom with you, I want like a bed and many. many. hours. I want to impress you.”

“I’m fucking impressed Bill.”

He chuckled and bit his lip, and you could see the wheels turning. “I really want to fuck you but I also don’t wanna be too long and full disclosure, Andy threatened serious bodily harm not to touch you. Said you’re a heartbreaking man eater.”

“Randi advised me to avoid you because you’re a foreign actor that’s too good looking for his own good. You’re obviously a monster.”

We both got a good laugh out of that.

“What’s your phone number?” He asked taking out his phone.

“I don’t currently have one. I need to get one. I lost mine yesterday.”

He looked at me incredulously. “If you don’t want to give me your number it’s ok.”

“No. Take Randi’s number, that’s the phone I was using earlier anyways, that way you can call, cuz I don’t have a pen or anything.”

“How about your email, and then you can send me your number when you get it. Randi might catch on if I call her phone.”

“You’re so smart! You’ll see me in a week on your new movie too.”

“Really? That’s the best news I got all day but if you think I’m waiting a week to be inside you, you’re insane. Now go, just say I went to smoke and make calls if they ask where I am. I’ll give it a couple minutes.”

I gave him my email and walked out the door to go try and act like the hottest fucking thing to ever happen in my life, didn’t just go down. When I turned the corner, I nearly threw up and cane to a screeching halt. I met eyes with the estranged exgirlfriend. I didn’t wanna seem weird so I smiled and sat down to finish my meal, since turning around and running the other direction might bad. I mean as far as I was concerned he was single, so I had no reason to feel guilty of anything. And I didn’t plan on admitting that happened to anyone, so not telling her was totally fine. She tapped on my arm and I cautiously turned to her.

“Did you see Bill by chance?” She asked politely.

“He said he was smoking and making some important calls when he left the table earlier.”

She laughed a little and rolled her eyes, “that man and his cigarettes! I blame Hemlock Grove for turning him into a chainsmoker. He’s probably smoked two or three in a row.”

“All this talk about smoking makes me want one, I’ll go find him. Excuse me ladies.” Andy said, as he quickly walked towards the exit to find Bill.

“He’s probably going to warn Bill that I’m here. We got in a fight earlier and he can be such a brat. Watch when he comes back, he’ll pretend like nothing happened.”

Maybe she didn’t realize he really was done with her. She had a funny accent so I assumed she’s Swedish too. He was probably her only friend out here so I couldn’t help but pity her.

“Between silent treatments and smoking, Bill would be dead by morning.” Randi said with a mischievous wink.

“Oh if you could see his hissy fits, they’re the worst!” She enthused. “Anything in his hands he’ll throw and if it’s something like a sandwich or drinks and won’t hurt you, he’ll throw it on you. But then if I try and ignore him, he’ll lay on me like a big dead weight until I speak.” His girlfriend said, laughing hysterically. Everyone joined in telling stories of past boyfriends that were grown men, having varying degrees of tantrums, but I just sat silently. My ex story wasn’t funny.

Andy and Bill came back and I could feel an anxiety attack creeping up on me.

I looked up and Bill was staring at me and I looked to Randi and she had a puzzled look on her face. In an effort to not give anything away to her, my eyes shot back up to Bill.

Bill looked furious. He seethed animosity and I just looked down at my plate to avoid that glare. I wasn't sure if I was the cause or she was, but I desperately wanted to run out of the place screaming and looked at Randi again pleading with my eyes to go. She seemed to catch on and I tried to keep it together.

His ex got up and rushed over to him. Just as I looked up, she planted a soft kiss on his cheek. My eyes narrowed involuntarily as he glanced over at me, but I couldn't tear my eyes away from him. His girlfriend grabbed his face and kissed him right on the lips.

I felt like I was going to throw up. Tears threatened to spill but I held them back as I stared at my lap. I kept seeing Bill’s eyes as he looked up at me from between my legs. Flashes of him pinning me to the wall, or oh my fucking god! My underwear are in his pocket!

My pussy is on his face too and he just kissed her.

He seemed so genuine, but he was an actor, what did I expect. Faking Feelings and emotions was how he paid the bills. I couldn’t believe how stupid and guillable I was! He probably got off on this shit. Poor woman. I was exaggerating when I’d said he was a monster but goddammit I was right!!!

”Ok thank you for inviting us and I can't wait to see whoever is going to join us in Toronto, but Liv and I must be off for an important appointment and then packing.” Randi said her goodbyes as I walked around the table and stood beside her, keeping my back to Bill.

”Bye everybody. I had fun” I said Sweetly and then I turned on my heel and walked past Bill without a glance.

”See you two in Toronto.” Bill called after us, and even though I refused to look at him, I could feel his eyes burning into my back as we walked away.

[angrylizardjacket]

eyes on the horizon {Ben Hardy/Reader/Roger Taylor}

Summary: The reader’s pregnant; she knows she has to tell Ben and Roger eventually.

A/N: 1447 words. Discussions of the concept of pregnancy and pregnant!reader. (pokemon kids voice) What’s That Genre?! It’s [redacted].maybe fluff idk, a little drama, a little angst, have fun?? i lost the original prompt. i also have a few more ideas for pieces surrounding this (including an angst one which im a bit obsessed with omg) i’m also not too crash hot on the quality of this one so feedback would be appreciated!

From the moment you find out, you feel like you can hear a clock ticking. Perhaps it’s counting down; counting down as you wait in line at the drug store checkout after waking up nauseous for the fifth day in a row; counting down the two minutes you have to wait for that infuriating little piece of plastic to give you potentially life changing results. Roger complains sometimes about the world being too fast nowadays, too efficient, and the two minutes is up and a second blue plastic line appears, winding you though you’d been expecting it, you think, in some strange way, he might be right. Most likely, you think, it’s counting the seconds until you’re pretty sure your world’s going to change forever, and you might just lose two of the people you care most about.

The clock ticks loudest when you’re with them, when you’re watching Netflix together and Roger’s draped himself across both of you and you’re running your fingers through his hair. He smiles up at you, booping your nose as the next episode loads, and your answering smile is tight. The show’s theme song is playing before he can really worry about it. 

It ticks when you’re sitting across from Ben at the table, and you’re both still in your pyjamas, he’s eating a banana and you’re nursing a coffee, and he catches you looking through him, rather than looking at him, focused on your own thoughts. He asks you what’s wrong, confused, even a little concerned; you’d been acting weird for almost a week now and he hadn’t wanted to push but-

But ‘it’s nothing, I’m fine’ comes more easily to you than the truth.

He leaves for his set, and you leave for yours, and Roger’s still asleep but there’s a fifty-fifty chance he’ll show up at around lunch at either one of your shoots, but part of you hopes he’ll spend the day with Ben if he does.

Things are going so well right now, and it’s the only thought in your mind when you’re waiting for your name to be called by the barista currently making the director’s coffee order. The rush of steam, the clinking of mugs, and the chatter of patrons makes a beat in your mind to the ticking only you can hear. You tap your foot in time to it, trying to talk yourself out of the conversation you knew you were going to have soon.

They both know you’re sick in the mornings, that nausea sometimes just hits you out of nowhere, that you definitely shouldn’t be working, but you’re claiming illness for the first part, quarantining yourself to the sofa, and it helps that your anxiety eases if they’re avoiding you just a little, to stay healthy; you claim capitalism as to why you keep working.

When you lie, tell them that you’re feeling better, that you’re getting over whatever was ailing you, Ben suggests a weekend away, away from the flat, away from the paparazzi, just away, another town for three days. Though of course hesitant, you can’t say no to him.

And you’d always favoured long car rides for uncomfortable conversations. You’re pretty sure it’s because the driver can’t look at you for too long, it makes you less anxious. 

“So, hypothetically,” you began, worrying your bottom lip as you fix your gaze on the lights of the highway passing you by. Everyone’s a little tired, a little tense; it’s been a long week since you’d taken those three different pregnancy tests in the bathroom of the mall. By now, both men were well aware there was something you weren’t telling them.

“Hypothetically,” though it’s technically an agreement, you can tell Ben’s already unconvinced. By Roger’s hum alone you can hear his scepticism. After a moment of silence, apart from the hum of the car, you realise the ticking’s stopped; now or never.

“Do you guys, like, think about the future?” You ask, carefully casual; to no-one’s surprise, Roger’s the first to chime in.

“Obviously; I’m living some science-fiction fantasy, love, this is the future.” He snorted, but he just seemed amused more than anything, still unsure about how this led back to your mood from earlier.

“I don’t think that’s what she meant.” Ben said quietly, and you made a noise of agreement in the back of your throat. “About... about our future?” Ben’s watching the road, but his gaze on the steering wheel is white-knuckled; he’s already jumped to a million different conclusions, all of them leading to you breaking up with them in this car on this highway.

“The three of us.” You agreed easily, fidgeting and looking out the window.

“I figured we’d just see where it leads; why worry?” Roger says, surprisingly flippant, though he too seems to be slightly on edge, drawing similar conclusions to Ben. Which, at the time, you didn’t realise, far too stuck in your own head to notice their own anxieties.

“Well what if we had to?” You begin, but your eyes widen as you think about what you’d just said, how it sounded, and you finally read the atmosphere; “not worry, not really, just think about the future, that is.”

“You know we love you, right?” Ben’s voice is surprisingly soft, even a little desperate. Something about it, however, eases that quiet anxiety in your chest that you had been trying to ignore.

“Do you guys think about our future?” You ask, and in the silence that follows, Ben pulls off to the side of the road. When the car comes to a stop the three of you are plunged into almost total silence, and somehow this is the single most claustrophobic moment of your life. “I do. I have to.” You admit, and your next words are spoken softly; “I’m pregnant.”

It seems you’ve broken both of them; Ben looks winded and Roger just keeps blinking, his mouth pressed into a thin line.

“You sure?” He finally asks. There’s that fear in your heart again, that anxiety, and tears in your eyes as you refuse to look at them, nodding quickly. You’d been so fucking afraid that they’d react badly, and you can feel your heart shattering just a little more-

“Holy shit are we gonna be parents?” Ben’s a little breathless, and sounds absolutely delighted at the prospect. “Like seriously, this isn’t a joke or anything, is it?” 

“Does it sound like a damn joke?” You snap, reeling from the whiplash of the reactions, but when you look at them, both boys are practically bursting at the seams with excitement. Roger practically launching himself over the centre console to hug you, and when he finally wiggles his whole way through and is sitting with you in the back, you’re shaking, wrapped up with him, pressing your lips to his shoulder. It takes you feeling cool air on your back to realise Ben’s gotten out of the driver’s seat to join the two of you. He’s laughing, almost disbelieving, and he kisses Roger’s cheek before wrapping his arms around your stomach, solid and reassuring at your back.

“Holy shit.” Ben murmurs, and you feel Roger laugh. It makes you smile, makes you feel safe in ways you hadn’t realised you’d needed.

“I know!” He crowed, giving you a little squeeze, and it’s enough to snap you out of your shock to let out a giggle. “God, we’ve gotta think about so much- why are their heads so soft?” Roger squints as he babbles, mostly coherent, still hugging you, his arms trapped between you and Ben where the other blonde refuses to let either of you go.

“That’s the first question you have?” Ben asks, and Roger hums thoughtfully, before immediately voicing his next thought.

“No; do we know which of us is the official dad?” He’s blunt about it, and despite the situation, the topic, and your very arrangement, you find yourself blushing as you finally sit up and admit that you don’t. After a beat of awkwardness, Ben rests his chin on your shoulder, the two of you watching Roger as he considered the situation.

“Does it matter?” He asked, and Roger’s face split into a grin.

“Not really.” 

Of course there’s so much to discuss; a movie star, a time-travelling drummer, and a personal assistant? There’s a lot that needs to be worked out, to be considered and talked about between the three of you, and you know it’s going to be hard, that it’s going to take work. You’re willing to put in that work. You’re all willing to put in that work. But for tonight, the three of you are content to celebrate; the future can wait a little while longer.

[imnotcameraready]

chivalry is dead (6)

A/N: e   w e e e  this one was so fun to write im still giggling to myself — it only took 6 chapters but we’re finally. finally. getting more information on these two hooligans

WARNINGS: sympathetic deceit (hey can someone let me know if i have to tag this every time this gets updated???), minor character death, falling, swords, stabbing, swearing, lying (funnily enough, its Patton and Logan), a chase scene, touch starved (implied), isolationism (implied) — if I missed anything else, please let me know!!

Words: 3571

Part 1 (chivalry is dead) — Part 2 (i’m wishing) — Part 3 (the bells of notre dame) — Part 4 (honor to us all) — Part 5 (i’ve got no strings) — Part 6 (god help the outcasts)

AO3 link!

@starlightvirgil @forrestwyrm @daflangstlairde @marshmallow-the-panda@askthesnake @k9cat @patromlogil

enjoy!!! <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 

“Patton!”

Logan rounded another corner, chasing after Patton’s grey cat-cloak. The moral side had gotten such a head start that the cloak was all Logan could use to make sure he was still following the correct person. They’d been running for God knows how far — Logan knew it’d been exactly thirteen minutes and forty seconds, forty one seconds, forty two, forty three since they started, but distances were more difficult to judge.

Patton swerved to the left, disappearing, and Logan swore as he rushed after. Curse their lack of desire to go to the gym, specifically his lack of desire to work out between moments while designing a better regiment for Thomas’ life. ….Wait, why hadn’t Logan worked more gym time into that regiment? Curses.

He turned the corner and spotted Patton standing in a doorway. This street was empty, not a fellow soul to be spotted. He jogged to the doorframe and immediately huffed.

Logan leaned on the building, gripping the door frame with one hand while the other rested on his knee as he bent over panting. His mental count was telling him that he had just run over a mile, but that couldn’t be right, could it? His chest certainly felt like it had been an hour. They’d only been running for fourteen minutes and twelve seconds. He tilted his head up, pushing his glasses up as well while shooting Patton a quizzical look.

Patton seemed tired, too, breathing heavily but slower. He sat with his knees bent, his butt resting against the doorframe as he caught his breath. His head was turned toward the door, brow furrowed in what Logan knew was his Fatherly Concern look.

He stiffened, though, and Logan took two more breaths before asking.  “Why are we outside? Is the—”

“Shush,” Patton hissed, waving his hand, “Ask me about the weather!”

Logan’s confused scowl deepened, mouth cracking open. Patton’s ability to interject any situation with asinine ideas was not welcome at crisis moments like this. Besides, there was a weird ringing in the distance, and they had to do something about that.

“Or, or, or! We can talk about the mirror cake recipe I found!” Patton stood up straight now, leaning on the door with his shoulder, voice loud. “I think Rosanna Pansino made one a long time ago and while we were in a Youtube hole the other night, I found the video, and it looks super cool. I don’t think it’ll be easy, Teach, but if you want, you can definitely—”

He immediately shut up, mouth curling in on itself as four armor-clad guards marched around the corner. They stomped in unison, armor jingling, all the way to the door frame in which Logan and Patton stood.

“Excuse me, citizens,” the guard’s voice, they heard, seemed to warp pitch while he spoke, “Have you seen a young boy wearing a dark cloak pinned with a golden brooch?”

Patton blinked. “Why, no, we haven’t! Isn’t that right, Lo—er, Loraine?”

There was something untrustworthy about these guards. Logan nodded vigorously in agreement. “Yes, we haven’t seen anyone come down this road for twenty three minutes, officer. It’s been very quiet.”

The guards all stared at them. Or, rather, it felt like they did. Each of them wore a helmet with a face mask, covering where they were looking. They all wore chainmail armor and a deep red leather over-shirt. Each also had a red cape and a sword strapped to their hip. On their shirts was golden embroidery, detailing Roman’s crest.

That was confusing. The kingdom seemed to be under Roman’s control — the kingdom, Logan noted, was also the Imagination. Perhaps they were synonymous?  Roman wasn’t a whole being, though — the thought sent a jolt through Logan’s chest again — and if Roman wasn’t directing these guards, then who was?

“Have you seen a man with a scar on his face, wearing a black and red patchwork cloak?” the same guard asked, voice still echoing in and out of pitch.

Logan shook his head now. He didn’t know who these authorities worked for, but given that multiple iterations of Roman had fled , he wasn’t inclined to trust them. “No, sir, we haven’t. Like I said earlier, we haven’t seen anyone come down this road in over twenty five minutes.”

The guards paused for a few seconds again, and Patton caught their attention. “Um, why do you wanna find them?” he asked.

All four guards’ heads turned simultaneously toward Patton. He pressed himself against the door more, but his small, determined smile didn’t let up. “I’m just curious,” his voice was also as chipper as ever.

“They are enemies of the crown,” the guard said, “Have you seen a man in a red vest, white suit, and red waist-sash, possibly playing the ukulele?”

Alright, even without the whole possible-death situation, Logan was getting tired of the repetition. “No. I have told you no once about two people, and now I tell you now for a third time. No, we haven’t seen anyone in about twenty nine minutes.”

The thought crossed his mind to ask who the crown was here, but asking would have make it clear that him and Patton were not from this realm. The second best option, then, was to get rid of them. Logan straightened up while they were talking — Roman would have said something clever in response to that — and fixed his glasses angrily. “Can you please leave us to our conversation? Whoever you may be seeking could have easily gotten away in the six minutes you’ve spent interrogating us.”

The guards considered what he said. Without warning or acknowledgement or even exchanging words between themselves, they all turned back towards the road and marched off, armor clinking off itself. Patton leaned forward and looked around the doorframe. They both watched as the guards rounded the corner, going out of sight.

As the jingling of their armor died away, Patton let out a long breath, sliding down to squat against the wall.

“Holy musical, Batman,” he joked, laughing to release some of his own tension, “That was a close one."

“It seems there is still a power figure in this kingdom, despite Roman not being here to oversee it,” Logan mumbled, squatting himself opposite of Patton, taking the Playwright’s book from his coat.

He flicked it open, looking at the Table of Contents, which listed “the Playwright” and “Authors’ Notes,” then “Map.” It hadn’t updated with any new “Cast,” as the section was titled, despite Logan’s assuredness that they’d just run from three other Romans. No new sections were added at all, actually.

Now that he thought about it, he should read the Authors’ Notes section. That might have more information on the child, perhaps.

Maybe they should check on the child.

Oh my God, the child. Logan closed the book and looked up at Patton, whose head was resting on his hand.

“The child,” Logan whispered, watching Patton’s face go from one of calm to alarm. It seemed that they’d both forgotten why they were lying to the guards.

“Oh, goodness,” he exclaimed, standing up and throwing the door open.

Inside was a wheat storage house. There were bales upon bales of hay, stacked in rectangle grids. Patton bolted in, feet crunching on the loose wheat scattered along the ground, and he cupped his hands around his mouth. “Hey! Kiddo! Are you in here?” he stage-whispered.

Logan closed the door as quietly as he could behind them. He stepped into the room, facing it fully and looking around.

“It doesn’t look like there are any exits, though the child could have burrowed through the ground. Or hidden himself in one of these bales of hay,” Logan said, sliding the book back into its pocket, “Roman? Are you in here?”

Patton’s hands clamped over his mouth and even Logan held his breath.

No response.

After a few seconds of waiting, Logan exhaled. “He must have left.”

“No way,” Patton said, “He can’t have, he’s in danger out there!”

“I’m sure the danger hasn’t stopped him before. Perhaps that’s why he knew to come here.”

“Maybe. But–But we should still walk around and see if we can—”

“Mister Logic?”

Logan nearly jumped out of his skin, stumbling back as he looked down. There the child was, standing right besides him, hand just a hair away from holding his. When he jumped back, the kid leaned away as well, arms coming in to hug himself.

Patton also jumped, letting out a scream behind his hands. He opened them up, mouthing “oh” quietly.

Both adult Sides’ eyes were glued to the kid. He looked exactly as Thomas did when he was about 10, with disheveled but straight dirty-blonde hair in a bowl cut that puffed up around the cloak’s hood. The kid’s eyes were as wide as theirs, taking in the sight before him with amazement.

“Did the knights leave?” he asked, and Patton’s heart nearly broke at how terrified he sounded.

“Yes,” Logan answered,  fixing his collar and smoothing himself down. “The guards are gone. We told them you had already run away.”

“What’s your name, kiddo?” Patton squatted down to be equal height with the kid.

“My name’s the Child!”

“Your name is just….the Child?”

The Child nodded, a large beaming smile growing on his face. “Yeah! But sometimes Bard calls me ‘Toulouse!’ Or ‘Hercules!’ Or ‘Chip!’ Or ‘Arthur!’ Thief calls me ‘Lil’ shit,’ but I don’t know what Disney movie that one’s from.”

“He calls you—” Patton’s offended voice was cut off by Logan’s hand waving.

“Are the Bard and Thief other Romans?” Logan asked, voice soft. He was speaking to a child, after all.

The Child grinned — Patton almost squealed, the kid was missing a front tooth, oh, he was precious — and nodded, sticking his thumb towards the brooch. “Yep! I’m Roman and they’re Roman too! Bard takes care of me mostly, but he’s always moving around, so the Artist helps out. Sometimes the Thief helps, too, but the Thief’s kinda mean.”

The Thief must have been the character running across the roofs, Logan thought. The Bard was probably the one they saw performing. Unless that was the Artist. Either way, there were three more confirmed Romans. Deceit had been right — this would be easier than the Playwright had suggested. “Is there any way we can meet them all?” he asked.

The Child nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah! They’re gonna be so happy to see you,” he suddenly shivered, posture stiffening as he made grabbing hand motions at Patton, “Mister Morality?”

“Yeah, kiddo?” Patton squatted down again, until he was eye level with the Child, “What can I do for you?”

He found himself wrapped up in the Child’s arms. Patton blinked in surprise, but hugged him back all the same.

Warmth. Comfort. Safety. Love.

“Kiddo?”

Love, love, love, love, love.

“Are you alright?”

Love, love, love, love, love, love love lovelovelovelovelove

“....”

Patton shared a worried look with Logan and wrapped an arm around the Child’s legs. “Mind if I pick you up?” he asked, whispering.

“Yes, please,” the Child’s mouth was pressed against Patton’s shirt collar, slurred from the hug’s tightness. He felt dizzy, like he’d inhaled too much helium and laughed too hard at the sound of his own voice and now he couldn’t breathe. Like he’d gone underwater and watched the clouds but forgot to let out bubbles. Like something was holding his chest down too tight, not caring if he was going to get hurt, and he found that he didn’t care either.

Patton stood up again, holding the Child against his chest as he snuggled even more into the hug. “....Did you just want a hug?” he asked, adjusting his hold better.

“Mhm. And I know mister Logic doesn’t like–he doesn’t like touching, ‘cause he always throws me off and gets mad. But you’re soft when you hug me, mister Morality,” the Child squeezed his eyes shut, tucking his face in Patton’s chest.

Logan opened his mouth. He’d felt offended. No, he didn’t always push Roman off of himself. But the words wouldn’t come. Logan knew he wasn’t as good with emotions, wasn’t fond of boisterous physical displays of such.

Why had that comment stung? He knew he wasn’t physical very often. Everyone knew?

He looked to Patton, who shrugged at him, one hand rubbing the Child’s back. Maybe the Child was more inclined to tactless honesty? If Logan had a pen, he would be taking notes, as it would be good to understand each of the different Roman forms. Damnit, he should have asked the Playwright for a pen.

They both looked when the Child yawned, snuggling closer to Patton. “Now, Child,” oof, that sounded vaguely threatening, “Erm. Kid. Ki–Kiddo. Roman?”

The Child giggled a little, looking up at Logan from over Patton’s shoulder. “You don’t usually say that, Mister Logic!”

Logan smiled back at the Child, lips pressed tight together. “Yes, well. It suits you.”

He squealed a little more, legs kicking out lazily, but Logan had more questions. “Where do you usually stay? And should we just refer to you as ‘Child’?”

“Yeppers peppers! And usually I live at the Artist’s house. He’s got a good hidey hole and he said he’d protect me.”

Protect. Who would be hunting a child? Patton’s hands tightened around him, giving Logan a worried look while Logan proceeded to talk. “If I showed you a map of the city, do you think you could tell us where his house is? We can carry you there. You seem very tired.”

“I am, today’s been a long day. Mmm. I think so.”

“Son of a bitch, son of a bitch, son of a bitch—” Virgil jumped up the wall, grabbing the second floor balcony railing and using that to hoist himself up.

The vague knowledge he had of parkour was really coming in handy now, as he yanked himself up onto the roof. This form was already two buildings ahead, but Virgil wanted — no, he needed to protect him from the guards. He had to protect Roman. Once he got onto the roof, he immediately began running after the group, launching himself between the building gaps.

“Virgil!” he stole a quick glance down to see Deceit running in line with himself.

He huffed, breathing labored, and looked forward again. Deceit was with him. Fucking great, okay, that meant the other two’d split off somewhere. Maybe chasing the singing Roman. He couldn’t think about that right now, the adrenaline was pumping, making him focus on….

One of the two remaining guards caught up to the form. Fucking wonderful.

The guard reached out, to grab the form’s cloak. Virgil’s throat clenched.

The form sidestepped and ducked, stopping his momentum almost immediately. The guard wasn’t so lucky as his arm swung out at air, over the edge of the building. His balance gone, he screeched and fell.

The form laughed once, a loud brash “Ha!” and Virgil saw him turn to face the final guard. He ducked as the guard lunged at him with a sword.

Virgil hopped over one last rooftop and huffed. “HEY,” he shouted.

Both the form and the guard stopped to look at him. Virgil was panting, but he still planted his left foot back and raised his hands into a fighting position.

The guard blinked, then looked back at the other Roman form, who was stuck between the edge of the building. The form lifted his arms, shrugging, as though to say “I’m not with that guy.”

Then the guard stiffened. He fell forward, onto the rooftop, a silver-handled knife sticking up from his back. Virgil stood up straight, as did the other form.

“Merry bitchmas!” Deceit shouted from the ground.

The form waved a hand down at him. Deceit could see, even three floors below, that this Roman was a bit more of a disaster. He had a long scar running across his cheek and down his jaw, and the flowing black cloak he wore was much too large for him and was covered in red patches.

When did Deceit get weapons? Virgil kept his guard up as he approached. Wait, he wanted weapons, that wasn’t fair! Ok, he had to focus.

Something about the patches, thick cloak, and general messy appearance indicated that this Roman may have taken inspiration from himself, similar to the Playwright and Logan. And if that was the case, then that meant this Roman may be more volatile. Approach with caution.

“....Roman?” he asked, hands loose at his sides, ready to move.

The cloaked figure was watching the bottom still, back to Virgil. Maybe he wasn’t a Roman?

“Not Roman?”

“I’m making sure Deceit doesn’t fall.”

His voice was surprisingly quiet. Virgil frowned and approached the edge. Below, Deceit was slowly climbing the side of the building by using the window ledges and water spouts.

Deceit looked up at them, scowled, and began climbing faster. Virgil could even hear him grumbling under his breath, something about how he’s not built for this. The Roman snorted at whatever he was saying, stepping back as Deceit put a hand on the ledge; Virgil knelt down and grabbed Deceit’s arms, yanking him up onto the roof.

“That was a waste of energy, but whatever,” Virgil checked over Deceit, ignoring the other Roman until he said, “I’m leaving.”

“Wait,” Deceit cleared his throat and motioned Virgil off of himself, grunting a quiet “I’m fine,” before continuing, “We were looking for you. You’re a Roman.”

The Roman squinted at him, pulling his cloak closed around himself. He turned his nose up. “Actually, I’m a Floridian.”

“So you are—wait, what?” Deceit scowled, “Of course you’re a Floridian, we're all from Florida. But you are a part of Roman, correct?”

“Why should I answer? And what’re you doing in the Imagination?”

He shifted his weight on his feet. Virgil squinted at him, examining how he held himself. His back was hunched, one hand pinching the cloak closed with his other hand sitting inside the cloak. Virgil couldn’t discern any part on the cloak that was like the crest, but the way he spoke indirectly said that yeah, he was a Roman. And seeing how this Roman’d acted, he was probably holding something beneath the cloak right now. Maybe a knife. Maybe a throwing knife. Maybe he was going to stab them.

Oh, God, was he going to stab them?

“Virgil. Stop panicking. I can hear you internally screaming from here,” the Roman interrupted his thoughts, “I….I just didn’t know you’d gotten in. And I don’t understand why you’re here.”

Virgil exhaled, fingers uncurling from where they’d been unconsciously squeezing tight. Deceit watched him, studying how he calmed himself down. “We were looking for you, er, Roman. We want the Prince,” Deceit said.

The Roman snorted. “That’s a first.”

“We’ve always wanted the Prince, and I’m getting tired of you all insinuating we didn’t,” Deceit snapped, taking a step forward.

Virgil grabbed his arm, holding him back, while the Roman just raised an eyebrow. Whatever humor was left in the conversation evaporated as the silence sat thick between them all.

The Roman opened his mouth, raising a hand to retort, but apparently thought better of it.

He turned around, back towards them.

Oh, God, he’s gonna run.

“Wait,” Virgil can’t stop himself, they can’t lose Roman again, “Wait, wait, wait, Deceit’s just upset, we’re all just upset. We miss you and want to help you get put back together. Can we talk this out a little first?”

The tension seems to grow. Virgil feels Deceit shake his hand, the one he’s gripping.

“Tight,” he hisses, and Virgil immediately lets go.

Deceit rubs his arm, shooting a glare at Virgil. Still on tense terms, even with each other. Virgil nodded at the Roman, though his eyes stayed glaring on Deceit for a moment longer before they both turned in unison.

His cloak was now billowing a little around him, caught in the wind while his hands just stayed balled at his sides. Virgil was holding his cloak tight, though Deceit’s semi-cape thing was fluttering.

To be honest, if the Roman hadn’t sighed, shoulders slouching over in defeat, Deceit was ready to yank him backwards himself.

“Alright. Fine. I don’t care why you’re here very much. You still shouldn’t be out and about Not while the guards’re running around. We can talk more later,” the Roman turned back around towards them and crossed his arms. That was when Virgil noticed his hands were gloved, in deep-red gloves.

Virgil nodded, slowly. “Okay. Thanks,” it felt like he was dealing with a toddler, or an animal, given how jumpy this Roman was.

He waved his hand dismissively. “I just don’t want you two idiots to get caught up in all this. We’re going back to my house.”

“Idiots,” Deceit deadpanned, but Virgil shushed him.

“Thanks. What’s your name?”

The Roman raised an eyebrow at him and shrugged. “Technically? Roman. But for the sake of ease, you can call me the Thief.”

Virgil nodded. This was the one who’d prefered solitude. That made sense.

Deceit’s hands tightened, before he uncurled them and smoothed out his own coat. He didn’t think Roman had this sort of vagabond isolationist within him but, well. Perhaps he didn’t know Roman well enough. “Alright, Thief. Lead the way.”

[kissmemando]

It’s College

Peter Parker x fem!reader

Warnings: none

Summary: y/n is moving into MIT and meets her dorm neighbor Peter

It was move in day at MIT, y/n pushed her cart of things to her dorm with her parents and siblings. She was undoubtedly nervous to finally meet her roomate, Paula from London. They had been emailing and texting over the summer and really clicked. As she approached her dorm room a boy from across the hall had stumbled over and dropped a box of miscellaneous objects. Instinctively, y/n stopped the cart to help the boy. She started to help pick up the dropped objects when something caught her eye.

“I’m more of a Han Solo type of girl, but Luke’s cool too,” y/n said as she handed the boy his things including a small Luke Skywalker figurine made for a keychain. She usually wasn’t this confident, but she felt the need to connect with him.

“Thanks, I’m uh Peter, Peter Parker. Luke isn’t too bad anyway, he’s a Jedi which is pretty sick.” Peter replied shaking her hand.

“It’s nice to meet you Peter, I’m Y/n y/l. I gotta finish moving in but I’ll see you around, I’m just around the hall.” Y/n flashed a smile at him and he did the same causing her to blush a bit. She walked towards her family and began to help them unload her things. It looked like Paula hadn’t arrived yet so y/n got first pick on the beds. She chose the one by the window because it reminded her of home.

“We should go get lunch before we have to take the plane back home.” Y/n’s mom said. They walked out of y/n’s dorm into the hall and y/n took a quick glance at Peter’s dorm hoping to see if she could say bye. It was only about 1 in the afternoon and she was sure she’d see him when everyone at her dorm meet for their group meeting about rules and safety.

“So who was the boy you helped?” Her father asked as they headed back to her dorm building

“Uhhh Im not sure, I just met him, his name is Peter.” She answered swiping her family into the building. It was now about 3:30 and they had a flight at 9 pm but wanted to be there by 5pm because they are parents.

“We are just gonna go to your dorm and grab our things and come right out. Your dad has to give back the rental car and it’s gonna take us about an hour together to the airport.” Y/n’s mom told her so that she is prepared for their separation. Truth was that y/n had hardly been away from home. The longest she’d been away from home without her parents or siblings was probably a week for her engineering camp mentoring program. She was nervous, even though sometimes her family would drive her insane she loved them dearly.

“Yeah mom I know.” She said back her mom as she guided them back her dorm. As she unlocked the door she looked over once again to Peter’s dorm wanting him to come out and chat. She looked to the other side of the room and saw Paula’s things, but no paula.

“Alright y/n, walk us out.” Y/n grabbed her mother’s hand as she said this. It was time for her to grow up. they reached the front exit of the building and y/n hugged her siblings then her dad who told her she was meant to do great things and then her mom hugged her and kissed her on the cheek. Y/n loved her mom but they weren’t super close. She didn’t tell her mom everything they weren’t best friends but it felt like she was losing herself on this woman’s arms.

“Be good, don’t forget to call me, I love you and goodbye” goodbye stung her heart. Y/n didn’t like goodbyes they always felt terrible. Once out of her mom’s arms it felt like a piece of her heart was missing. Her mom was crying making her want to cry but she couldn’t, she didn’t want to.

“Bye I love you guys.” She said as they walked out on the verge of tears, really trying hard not the cry. Behind her, she heard a similar encounter.

“I’ll be fine Aunt May. Don’t cry cause then I’ll cry. Come on May.” She turned around and saw Peter with a softly crying woman on his shoulder. “May you dont live too far I could as come and visit and you can visit me.” Peter walked the woman to the door and they hugged goodbye, y/n stood waving bye to your family as they drove past, she could see the tears in her mom’s eyes.

“Goodbyes are so hard aren’t they.” Peter said as he stood next to her watching May get to her car.

“God, you’re telling me, it’s like torture especially with the people you love most.” He nodded his head in agreement.

“Y/n right,” she nodded her head yes, “you wanna walk back to our dorms together since they are right down the hall from another?”

“Yeah sure” they started to the elevator and got to know one another.

“So where are you from y/n?”

“I’m from y/h, born and raised. You?”

“Queens also born and raised.” Peter said and a proud smile appeared on his face. His hands were placed in the pocket of his blue jeans.

“Nice” the elevator doors opened and the two heard a girl laughing extremely loud from Y/n’s dorm. Y/n’s door was open and the two peered in to see a girl and guy on the ground laughing.

“Emilio? What are you doing in here?” Peter looked at the guy on the ground, who had light brown hair that looked orange in the sun. “Oh uh Emilio’s my roommate” Peter half whispered to y/n. She smelt his cologne off his neck when he spoke to her. It warmed her heart a bit making her forget that her family just left.

“I was just helping Paula with this box,” he pointed to a box on the ground knocked over and it’s contents on the ground. He stood up and helped Paula up as well.

“Well you must be y/n I presume, it’s nice to finally meet you, sorry about the mess.” Paula said and took out her had for to shake it. “ and you are?”

Peter took out his hand “ I’m Peter, Peter Parker, Emilio’s roomate.”

“Well it’s nice to meet you Peter.”

“We better go” emilio said picking up the box and he and Peter left the room.

Later, at the group meeting you and Paula walked in together. She was tall, with mocha skin, and very pretty. She walked briskly to the meeting in the community room. The two were the first there and sat on a sofa that fit about three. Later people started to come in and soon enough Peter and Emilio showed up. Emilio sat in the arm rest of Paula’s side of the couch and Peter sat in a chair next to y/n. When he took his seat he smiled at her.

“Hello Emiliano,” Paula said in her English accent.

The RA began to drone on about rules of the dorms and Peter looked at y/n acting like he was sleeping. She giggled quietly and looked away trying to concentrate on the RA. What she didn’t see was Peter smile to himself. He liked her little giggle it was adorable. Y/n knew Peter Parker was gonna be trouble but she welcomed it.

After the RA, Hadrain, was droning on he told everyone to take the time to get to know those that lived in your building and after you may go to dinner. Instinctively y/n looked over at Peter.

“So Peter, I’m guessing you like Star Wars”

Peter rolled his eyes in a joking manner, “ yeah I guess I’m into it” he said sarcastically.

Y/n smiled at Peter and they two continued to chat, until Paula and Emilio forced them to go to dinner. As they walked Emilio and Paula were ahead arms were linked

“Did something happen that we missed with the two?” Peter ask, brows furrowed.

“ I have no idea but, it’s only the first day maybe this is just how they are, maybe it’s just like friendly.” Y/n said messing with the sleeve of her sweatshirt.

The four had finally made it too the dining hall and finished eating.

“The food really wasn’t all that” y/n said, unimpressed.

“Well it is college cafeteria food.” Peter replied

“But rich people go here.” Peter smiles and nodded his head in agreement

“Alright well I’m right to hit the sack” said Emilio and he got up from the table. Y/n didn’t have much of a chance to look at him before but now she could see more of his features. His brown hair that looked red in the light and she noticed some freckles. His eyes were green and his face was pale but she wasn’t sure if she was white, maybe Hispanic or mixed.

Y/n felt good walking with her little group of friends, because she never thought she’d have any especially at such a competitive school. Once in front of her dorm room Emilio hugged Paula by and simply said bye to y/n. Y/n galanced over to Peter who was on his phone, texting his Aunt May. She figured he wasn’t going to say by and pulled out her keycard.

“Wait, I don’t get a goodbye y/n?” Peter looked up, he sounded half joking and half serious.

Y/n blushed, “well bye mr.parker I’m sure I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Goodbye ms.y/n I hope you sleep well.”

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Author’s note

Hiii, I’m Indie! I hope you liked my first story I’ll probably be writing a part two soon depending if this is well received or not. Also if you have any suggestions or ideas please HMU! Thanks for reading ❤️