#lia's 1k celebration | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mochie85 · 1 year

Note

Dear, congrats again on this milestone! I’m sooo happy for you and hope to keep enjoying your amazing writing and talent in this place 💜

I want to make a request with a song, just if it inspires you, so no pressure (;

Brut Gold - Chapter 1 Loki & Lia

1K Celebration Masterlist | Brut Gold Masterlist | Complete Masterlist

Summary: Loki sees you dancing in his club and is immediately infatuated with you. Pairing: Mob!Loki x Female Reader/OFC Word Count: Over 3K Warnings: No Smut, angst, killing, language A/N: Part of my 1K follower celebration. I want to thank @coldnique for this request and for introducing me to this song. I love this song! It is now on heavy rotation in my playlist. And the following scenario is what I pictured when I first heard it. So I hope you like it.

The haze of the club seeped through the walls and into the lungs of every guest attending that night. The air was heavy with deep breaths and sighs. The music was so loud and deep you only had yourself for company; because no one else could hear anything you could or would be saying.

The large hall was dark, with vintage speakeasy furnishings and two bars that boasted to have every drink imaginable. There were private booths in the back that were separated by curtains of red and chrome. Curls of smoke could be seen wafting out when the curtains were pushed back to reveal secrets and obscurities.

Beyond that were the private rooms of the owners where they conducted their daily business.

The Odinsons. They were brothers from an old family, with ties to the royal households of Norway dating back a long time. With money stretching even further back.

Back here, the curls of smoke were thicker with lace and the music was replaced by the screams of people whom the brothers had deemed worthy of their attention. Good…and bad.

Loki had just collected his dagger from the body slumped on the floor. His second-in-command, Fandral, quickly approached him and handed him a handkerchief to wipe his blade. “Thank you, kommandør. Be a dear and dispose of the trash, will you?” Fandral nodded silently to Loki as Hogun leaped up to help him.

“Brother, if you keep killing them, we’ll never find anyone to distribute our product,” Thor said, with an amused grin. He sat with his legs crossed on the back couch, looking like a Pharoah presiding over his kingdom. His crisp white suit hung delicately along his muscular frame. Quite the opposite of Loki’s leaner figure clad in an all-black ensemble.

“Well, if we started recruiting more loyal soldater, I wouldn’t feel the need to kill them.” Loki retorted.

Just then, Lady Sif walks through the door with a tiresome expression on her face. “Another one, Loki? I just saw Fandral and Hogun carrying a black duffel bag to the back.” Loki could only shrug as he wiped his blade clean.

“There she is!” Thor yelled. “My wife. My heart.” He held out his arms for her to join him. Sif pulls out her dagger and places it against Thor’s throat.

“Did you have something to do with this?”

“Ooh. I love it when you’re feisty.” He says pushing the blade away from himself slowly. She swings it back his way, expecting an answer. “No, I did not.” He sighs.

Satisfied by his response, she stows her blade and sits on his lap. Loki watches as Thor nuzzles up to his advisor-turned-wife, rolling his eyes at the blatant expression of love between them.

Deep down he knew he was jealous. Not of Thor, but of the connection he has with the person he found to love. But Lady Sif had always been by their side. She grew up in this life. She knows the harsh truths about sacrifice and gains. She was their rådgiver, their adviser.

Loki wanted someone outside of the chaos. Someone who doesn’t know who he is and doesn’t expect anything out of him but love and affection. That was hard to find in the line of work he was in.

He finished cleaning his daggers when Fandral opens the door and whispers to Loki, “It’s done. Volstagg is driving it to the junkyard as we speak. The front of the house needs your presence though.”

“Thank the gods. If I must stand here another minute, I might witness the creation of my future niece or nephew.” Loki whispered back, making Fandral look at what was happening on the couch. He just rolled his eyes and followed Loki out of the room, leaving the two lovers alone.

Closer and closer, Loki struts to the front of the house. The music got louder. The air got thinner. And his heart raced faster in time with the beat of the music.

Loki stopped at the threshold of the large hallway, flanked by Fandral and Hogun on either side. Those closest to them stopped and stared. The three were a sight for sure. All three were dressed impeccably in black slacks and dark shirts. Loki looked the most devastating of all with his shirt sleeves still rolled up and his top buttons still loose from the ‘sentencing’ he carried out moments before.

He looked around the club and saw a large sea of people swaying and gyrating to the music. It was busier tonight than usual. The locals mixed in with the tourist crowd for the summer.

A twinkling flash of gold caught his attention in the middle of the room, and he spotted you dancing on the floor.

Everyone else stared at them. Knew of them. But you- you remained unaffected and joyous as you continued swaying your body to the deep bass of the music. Loki was mesmerized. He’d never seen you in his club before. The sway of your hips made the gold sequence of your skirt catch his eye and he couldn’t look away.

As soon as they sat down, they were bombarded with attention. Some were from lower soldaters, soldiers who wanted to be in the inner circle and paid their respects. While others were of a more sexual nature. Loki ignored them all and just watched you.

He watched as your hands ran through your hair, your body moving to the beat. Your head thrown back lost in the music. He wondered if that’s how you would look, lost in passion, in between him and his bed.

You came in with a bachelorette party. The women you were with all clamoring for attention from the other clubgoers, getting drinks and compliments. You shone brightly behind them, keeping a low profile, just dancing and being protective of your friends who would otherwise end the night with some predator. Loki saw that as a positive quality of yours. Protective, loyal, caring, and gorgeous. He could see all the stares of appreciation you got every time you passed by someone.

He scoffed at the laughable attempts that were directed your way. All of which you turned down. He continued to watch you dance with your friends from one of the private booths in the back. He instructed his bartender to give you and your friends top-shelf drinks and made sure that no one else bothered you for the rest of the night.

Never, had anyone affected him this way before. Just one look at you and he was stunned. He never put much stock in fate or destiny. He always relied on his judgment and instincts. So, this fleeting moment of obsession alarmed him. “Find out all you can about her, Fandral. And don’t alert my brother of your research.” Loki asked his kommandør. Fandral and Hogun looked at each other quickly and let a sly smile pass between them.

Loki would’ve caught their little interaction, had it not been for some ingrate that tried to get handsy with you. Loki growled his displeasure from his seat. But you quickly slapped the cretin’s hands away and pushed him off. When the lowlife tried a second time, Hogun got up to take care of the situation. He’d seen the way Loki was all night. Loki hadn’t paid a single attention to what was happening in front of him. He was too preoccupied with you. Hogun knew that if things didn’t deescalate quickly, he’d have a whole other mess to clean up.

Loki placed his hand on Hogun’s shoulder, stopping the deadly assassin from continuing. Instead, Loki made his way to you as Hogun followed behind closely. “Thor won’t like this if you make a scene, Loki,” he whispered in his ear.

“Who said I was gonna make a scene?” Loki paused with a solemn face. Hogun huffed in response. “Take that scum to the back. Make sure he doesn’t have use of those hands for the foreseeable future.” Hogun knew better than to roll his eyes at him. He simply nodded and grabbed the offending fool off by his collar.

Everyone gave Loki a wide berth as he walked right up behind you. Up till now, he’d only been watching you. But there was something about that handsy boor that stroked his possessiveness towards you.

He started to sway in time with your body. His arms snaked around your hips, as his lips came dangerously close to your ear. You were about to turn and slap whoever decided to get frisky with you until you heard Loki’s velvet voice caressing your ear, “Dance with me.”

There was a deep command laced in his tone. You had never heard a voice sound so sensual. So confident. His touch was firm but reverent. As if he were the lead dancer instructing your body on how to move. Your body relaxed into his. A sly smile formed on your face as you felt his hands trace your curves.

Loki twirled you to face him. You first noticed his eyes. They were cunning and sharp. They were also the brightest green you had ever seen. His smile was what you liked the most. His thin lips gave way to a wide smirk that promised fun and excitement. You could feel his strong arms holding you close to his body as you both swayed slowly to the fast-paced music.

“I’ve been wondering when you would make your move,” you said to him.

“So, you’ve been watching me, have you? I’m flattered.” Loki purred with a guarded smile.

“It’s hard to miss someone whose got the attention of everyone in the room.” You continued as you swayed your hips.

“Likewise, my dear. I haven’t been able to take my eyes off of you.” He whispered in your ear. A blush formed on your cheek from his charm. “Have a drink with me.” His tone left no room for refusal. Loki kissed your hand as he leads you back to his private booth. Everyone you passed just stared at you with judgment or awe.

He signaled to his barkeep for a drink while he held the curtains open for you to slide in. Soon after, a scantily clad woman, wearing the tightest mini skirt you had ever seen, walks up with a tray. She holds out the bottle for Loki to approve and he nods his head without taking his eyes off you. The pop of the bottle startled you and made you jump closer to his embrace. She eyed you suspiciously as she poured a gold bottle of brut with a spade on the front label. His eyes viciously glinted as he felt your body press up against his.

He snaked his arm tighter around your shoulders, pulling you closer to him. “Have you ever had Armand de Brignac before?” he whispered in your ear.

“No. I can’t say I have,” you smiled as he reached for his glass, dismissing the bottle girl. Loki held it up to his lips and took a sip. His eyes noted how you looked down at his throat, watching him swallow the expensive champagne.

With closed lips, he leaned in close to you. He pressed his mouth to yours and puckered slightly opening your lips to the cool champagne in his mouth. You sucked on his kiss as the taste of the champagne coated it. It was tart with hints of fruits. The bubbles were still evident as they tickled in between your joined lips. You drank the rest of the champagne from his mouth. His hands held the back of your head steady, helping you drink from him. When you had finished, a trickle fell down your chin to your throat. He was quick to wipe it away with a hooked finger and brought it over to your mouth to lick off.

You played along with his game and wrapped your lips along the length of his finger, licking the drop of bubbly from the bend.

“Delicious, is it not?” his voice hitched.

“Yes,” you said breathlessly. “Very much so.” Your mind tried to catch up. Your body was thrumming with adrenaline and hot need. Your bodies were turned towards each other in the private booth as his hand continues to caress the hairs on the back of your head.

“Would you like another taste?” he offered, looking down at your lips. He grabbed the flute without waiting for your answer. As if he knew you would say yes. Hoped that you would say yes.

“Yes, please.” You whispered, making him smile. He brought his lips towards yours again and you happily drank his sweet champagne kisses. Your hands roamed his shirt, pulling on his shirt collar to move closer to you. When you had drank every last drop, you snaked your tongue in between his lips and tickled the roof of his mouth.

When you finished, you looked down at his throat again and your fingers traced the outlines of a snake tattoo on his neck. Loki rumbled at the feel of your fingers on him. “You dangerous creature. I don’t even know your name.” His breath smelled like the champagne, crisp apples, and fruit.

“My closest friends call me Lia,” you whispered as your fingers followed the tattoo down to his collarbone.

“My friends, if I had any, call me…” Loki started but he was soon interrupted by someone calling out your name.

“Lia!” Your cousin slid the curtains open, much to the protest of Hogun standing guard. She had on a tiara with a veil and a sash that said wifey around her shoulder. “Lia! There you are!” Rosaline glared at Loki and grabbed your hand. “We have to go. Other clubs to visit.” Rosaline gave Loki a tight smile as she pulled you out of the booth. She looks vaguely familiar, Loki thought, but couldn’t put his mind as to where he’s seen her before. The bachelorette get-up surely didn’t help his memory either.

“Ok. Ok. Hold on a second.” You told her as you scooted out of the booth. Loki held on to your other hand, not wanting to let go.

“Lia.” He called out. “Will I ever see you again?” he smiled as you got up from the booth.

“I…”

“My cousins just visiting for the wedding,” Roseline answered. You gave her an angry look for talking on your behalf. “Come on. Let’s go.” Rosaline dragged you quickly away from the private booths and back to the safety of the group of girls you came with.

“What’s the deal, Rose? I thought you wanted me to find someone tonight?”

“Yes! Someone. Just not that one.” She said as she grabbed her purse and coat. Everyone in your group was doing the same, getting ready to go to the next club.

“What do you mean?”

“Girl, do you know who that is? No, of course you don’t. Ugh. Sometimes, I hate daddy for sending you away. All these years without my bestie…”

“Rose! Who is he?” you interrupted her, as she wrapped you in your coat.

“That is none other than Loki Odinson. Part owner of this club. Along with his brother, Thor Odinson.”

“Odinson?”

“Yes! That Odinson! The same Odinson that’s rivals with the Barnes family. You know…my fiancé!” The realization made you look back to the booth you had just shared. Except this time, Loki wasn’t alone. He was accompanied by another man. Striking blue eyes and an imposing figure, clad in all white. Thor Odinson.

“Brother, I leave you alone for a couple of minutes and you cause all kinds of mischief,” Thor laughed as he sat down in the booth. Thor watched you walk away, being towed by none other than Rosaline Strange. “If I ask you to stay away from her, would you listen?”

Loki ignored his question and watched as your cousin, undoubtedly, informed you of who he was. “I saw what Fandral was researching for you. Would you like to know who she is?” Thor dangled the information in front of Loki, baiting for any response.

“Her name is Juliette ‘Lia’ Banner. Daughter of Bruce and Donna Banner. Donna, her mother, is Strange’s younger sister. Her parents both died a long time ago in an accident. They weren’t ‘in the life’ and wanted to keep their daughter out of it as well. When they passed, Strange honored their wishes and sent Juliette away to boarding school and Uni abroad to keep her safe. Apparently, she just graduated and is in town for the nuptials of her cousin Rosaline and James Barnes.”

“Barnes?” Loki said alarmed.

“Of all the juicy details I said. That’s the one you pick up on?” Thor chuckled. “She’s got too many ties for us to unravel Loki. Leave her be.” Thor warned resolutely.

“I don’t know if I can, Thor.”

“What do you mean you don’t know if you can? You have to. Or else…”

“Or else, what? Thor? Cut me off like you did Hela?”

“DAMMIT LOKI! You knew that was her decision.” Thor slammed his fist on the table making everyone in the vicinity jump. “I can’t protect you if you go after this girl. It would be a war for sure with Barnes and we don’t need that right now.”

Loki sat there quietly; watching as your group prepares to leave. “I’ve never lied to you brother…” Loki started. Thor just raised his eyebrows in disbelief. “…Regarding matters of the business and family. I’m telling you right now, that I want her.”

“How do you even know she wants you back? You can have any goddam cunt in here tonight. Hel, this whole club wants to sleep with you. Take your pick. But not her Loki!”

“If she turns to look back…”

You walked towards the front entrance, the chill from the summer night was flowing through the doors making you hold on tighter to your coat. Your cousin and her friends all laugh and beckon you outside to join them. Each step you took forward felt heavy. You couldn’t help it. One last look.

Both men stared at you as you made your exit. Shivers ran down your spine as you replayed his last words to you, ‘Will I ever see you again?’

God, I sure hope so, you thought.

⬅️ Series Masterlist | Brut Gold: Chapter 2➡️

@alexs1200 @a-witch-with-words @athalialaufeyson @britishserpent @cakesandtom @crimson25 @el-zef @fictive-sl0th @gigglingtigger @glitterylokislut @goldencherriess @holdmytesseract @holymultiplefandomsbatman @huntress-artemiss @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @immersed-in-mischief @kellatron55 @kikster606 @kkdvkyya @ladyofthestayingpower @lokidbadguy @lokiprompts21 @lokisasgardianvampirequeen @lokisgoodgirl @lokisninerealms @lokischambermaid @lokixryss @loopsisloops @lucylaufeyson3 @luvlady-writes @michelleleewise @mischief2sarawr @mukagentropy @muddyorbsblr @nopenottodayson @one-oblivious-nerd @ozymdias @peaches1958 @salempoe @sarahscribbles @sarawr-reads @silverfire475 @springdandelixn @starktowerrooftop @theaudacitytowrite @thedistractedagglomeration @thomase1 @vickie5446 @vbecker10 @wheredafandomat @xorpsbane

482 notes · View notes

miupow · 26 days

Text

MIUPOW’S 1K SLEEPOVER EVENT ! (MAY 5 - 20) . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

a lot has happened for user miupow the last couple of days!! my twentieth birthday was wednesday, my brother’s graduation was yesterday, and tomorrow we are traveling to the mountains to see him off for his summer internship! not only that, but just the other day this blog hit 1k followers!! thank you all so much for your support and love, it truly means the world to me! i could not wish for a sweeter, kinder bunch of readers and mutuals, you all are my world ! i wanted to do a little something to celebrate this milestone with everyone, even with how busy i’ve been, so here’s a little slumber party event for everyone to participate in! special thanks to @dearlyjun for being the inspo behind this event ^^

RULES :

- i am accepting asks related to the event from tonight (may 4th) until the 20th. i will attempt to answer a few each day, but i cannot guarantee i will finish all requests on time. any asks i still have not answered after the 20th i will answer when i have the time to.

- the amount of asks you may send is unlimited unless it is a drabble request— then it is one per user

- all posts regarding this event will be tagged under #lia’s 1k slumber party!

- anons are encouraged to participate!

- i am okay with nsfw asks related to this event :)

MORE ABOUT ME !

though i’m a chronic oversharer and i love to tap nonstop, there’s still a bunch about me as a person and as a writer that i’ve never talked about before on this blog! feel free to ask me anything you would like to know about me!

please keep asks from being too personal. i am allowed to ignore any of these asks that make me uncomfortable.

THIS or THAT ?

send me an ask asking me to pick between two things! can be about anything you’d like :)

ex) cherries or bananas? would you rather cuddle with changbin or chan? blonde soobin or orange soobin? rain or snow?

FUCK , MARRY , KISS !

a version of fuck, marry, kill with no violence involved lol ^^ send me three idols (txt, bts, svt, skz) to choose from and i will tell you which out of the three that i would fuck, marry, or kiss!

SONGFIC DRABBLE EVENT ! (ONE PER USER)

the biggest part of my slumber party— a songfic event! send me an ask with a song, an idol, and a scenario and i will write you a drabble/short fic based off of the ask! (500 - 2k words) sfw and nsfw requests are accepted! txt, skz, bts, and svt members accepted!

ex) lover, you should’ve come over by jeff buckley + jihoon + exes to lovers

these songfics will take me longer to write than any of the other asks for this event, so please be patient! i will try to crank these out as fast as i can, i’ve been struggling with a lot of writers block recently and i’m really hoping that this will help me break out of it!

…

sending my love and my thanks to every single one of you that have supported me throughout my short time writing on tumblr! every friend and mutual i’ve made is irreplaceable <3

#lia’s 1k slumber party!#txt x reader #svt x reader #seventeen x reader #skz x reader #stray kids x reader

13 notes · View notes

malum-forev · 1 year

Text

1K Followers Bingo Game!! 🎉🎉🎉

First of all, I want to thank every single one of you guys for your support and follows! I cannot believe thisss. I am so happy you've enjoyed my writing and you've all helped me reach 1,000 followers.

❤️‍🔥🥰 Enjoy one of my favorite Bucky gifs as a token of my appreciation. <3

Soooo I saw @espinosaurusrexex create this bingo game for their 1k celebration and I thought it was an amazing idea! All credits go to @espinosaurusrexex (ps their blog is AMAZINGGGG, so pls check it out!)

Here's Everything you need to know for the game! I hope you guys like it and participate! (most of the writing going forward comes from @espinosaurusrexex's blog to give credit)

❗️BINGO❗️

As a celebration for this milestone, I would like to host a Writing Bingo Game (inspired by @blooming-violets).

The rules are simple:

Chose a prompt from the card and tell me other details you'd like me to include. (Also, if you would like me to integrate one of the prompts to my past stories pls comment that too <3)

Send them to me through an ask

I will write requests in order of submission and then cross the prompts off. And you can be damn sure I'll pure my heart and soul into that shit. [click here to see what has been submitted already]

BINGO! The game is finished when a row, column or diagonal is completed.

I also don't gatekeep, so please feel free to use this card for your own writing challenges, but make sure to tag me, so I can see what beautiful things you create with it 💗

Green means completed and Yellow means working on it!

You can find the complete master list here!

Last update: June 26th.

If you'd like to participate, be sure to comment a prompt in my asks!

Bucky x Reader pairing Inspo: College!Bucky, Fratboy!Bucky, Mafia!Bucky, Agent!Reader, Husband!Bucky, ExHusband!Bucky, Dad!Bucky, BrothersBestFriend!Bucky, Rogers!Reader, Stark!Reader, Famous!Reader.

-----------

Again, thank you for your support and thank you Meg for this amazing Bingo game!

I've tagged people who've asked to be on my tagged list! I hope that's okay!

@kpopgirlbtssvt @shara-ne @namelesssaviour @scxrletrecsmarvel @baby-banana @stucky-my-shiptoothhurtyam @bluemoon-icecream @seybox @supraveng @jasmine19346 @what-a-beautiful-mess-i-made @maladaptivexxdaydreaming @confuscita @eviesaurusrex @girlfriday007 @starryeyeseunbyul @thevampire97 @sadisticfries @440mxs-wife @rslizj @enchantedbarnes @whitewolfsdoll @mrsbarnesx @arcanebabe @143amberrose @silentkiller2374 @samantha1sodone @just-that-dumb-bitch @verygraphicink @rouge-raven13 @behindmygreyeyes @ximi1315 @runi1 @lia-winther @aneluvs

*Any gifs posted are not my own and I give the artist full credit.

16 notes · View notes

a-literal-supernova · 1 year

Text

I posted 2,597 times in 2022

That's 2,411 more posts than 2021!

161 posts created (6%)

2,436 posts reblogged (94%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@miles-edgyworth

@fiddlepickdouglas

@roundhousekickingheight

@enbyjustice

@duskiecat

I tagged 1,714 of my posts in 2022

Only 34% of my posts had no tags

#ace attorney - 1,094 posts

#asking lia - 122 posts

#sobbing - 81 posts

#cosimo don’t click - 78 posts

#so true - 67 posts

#klapollo - 61 posts

#wrightworth - 52 posts

#ask games - 46 posts

#i love them - 45 posts

#giggles - 36 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#oh! on the topic of fics did that one fanfic klapollo one have any spoilers beyond like 5-2 because that’s when you said to have me ask you

My Top Posts in 2022:

to celebrate the weird little girl post getting 1k notes have some aa text posts

See the full post

990 notes - Posted October 3, 2022

im back on my bullshit

See the full post

1,065 notes - Posted October 8, 2022

so i made more

See the full post

1,113 notes - Posted November 1, 2022

saw that post about the best type of characters and

BONUS: alt phoenix one

2,191 notes - Posted October 4, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

thinking about them

2,414 notes - Posted September 28, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #lia's supernova of stupidity

6 notes · View notes

ardentmuse · 6 years

Note

Hey :) I just started to read your blog and I'm soooo in love with it😍 Especially with the Charlie Weasley Imagine you're currently writing😊❤ I really fell for this character while playing Hogwarts Mystery😎 So english is not my first language and I'm not sure if I understood your rules correctly 😂🙄 however I try to send 🧙‍♀️ + Charlie Weasley and maybe I'm lucky and you can write something😍 Keep going, you're amazing💖

Charlie Weasley x fem!Reader

A crash, followed by contagious laughter filled Charlie’s ears as he came around the third greenhouse.

Your head poked out of a giant pile of aspen and field maple leaves, so large it consumed your entire body, robes, and the books you had been carrying. You were completely disheveled, little wisps of hair pointing in all directions, and your smile so bright that Charlie’s heart fluttered for a moment. You were beautiful. You always were. But in moments like this, when you let the simple joys of life lead you, he found you near perfect.

“Come on in,” you shouted in his direction as you fell back with your arms out beside you, allowing the pile to swallow you further. “The water’s fine,” he thought he heard you say through the rustle of leaves and wind rolling over the hills as you began mimicking a backstroke.

Charlie dropped his bag beside the pile and took a seat on the edge, wanting to make sure he didn’t accidentally land on top of you. You popped your head up and upon seeing him tentative you grabbed at the panels of his jacket and pulled him down with you.

“Whoa!” Charlie managed before his world was filled with dark shadows of reds, oranges, and yellows, like stained glass at dusk. He felt your hands upon his chest, your fingers still gripping into the soft wool of his coat. And for a moment, he allowed himself to be overwhelmed by the comfort that came from the bed of fall foliage and the closeness of his crush.

But then he swallowed some dirt and he pulled himself up spitting. You were already up, encompassed in a throne of leaves, giggling up a storm of Charlie’s demise.

“You—“ he began but you cut him off. “Don’t even complain. You love it.”

Charlie felt his cheeks burn at just how close you were, just how happy, just how right.

“Yeah, I do.”

You reached down into the pile and tossed up a ton of leaves. You continued to laugh as they rained down on you both, the wind carrying a few off over your head and against your face.

“You’ve got a,” Charlie said, reaching up to pull a leaf from your hair. It was a pleasant shade of sunshine yellow, with brown veins and just a hint of green at the stalk. It seemed the most breathtaking things liked to find residence on your face.

When Charlie went to pull it away, your fingers held his palm against your cheek. Charlie could feel the warmth there, so similar to his own blush right then. He watched your chin lift as you let out a shaking breath. You offered him a nervous smile but didn’t move your hand.

Charlie lost control of his body. It was leaning forward for him. His lips were parting. His eyes were closing. His head was tilting. The only thing he did with intention was run his fingers across your cheekbone as he kissed you. Your lips were just as sweet as he always imagined, probably from the warm cider you had decided to bring with you on this walk. They were plump and soft and emotive, eager to feel him too for some reason he’d never fully understand. He felt your hands against his neck, pulling him closer, and all he could do was smile.

It was you who pulled away when the moment finally came. It took Charlie a few seconds to even realize you had gone. Everything had felt eternal.

As he slowly flicked open his eyes, he saw you staring at the ground, pulling apart a leaf blade as accurately as you could from the veins. After a moment, you flicked your gaze up to meet his.

“Was that okay?”

Charlie couldn’t even entertain the question.

“The best.”

You laughed nervously at that, but then shuttered as a strong wind came over the hills. Charlie began to pull on his sleeves to give you his jacket, but a better thought crossed his mind.

He leaned over, rummaged through his bag, and pulled out a Weasley sweater. This one was from two Christmases ago, a pleasing shade of butterscotch in a fisherman’s knit with a large blue “C” upon the chest.

“Here,” he said, holding the shirt for your inspection.

With a smile, you took it and pulled it over your head. It fit you well. The color was ideal for today.

He watched you bring the fabric at the collar up to your nose and take a long sniff. Something about the action made him blush.

You heard the noise of students coming down the path to let you know your classes were about to begin. Charlie stood and offered you a hand, pulling you to standing.

“Thanks, Charlie,” you said. You leaned forward once more to kiss him again, this one slow and measured. It wasn’t life altering like the first, but just as enjoyable, especially given how easily you gave it. He was awoken from his daze again by the feel of you tucking a leave behind his ear, the same color as the top he just gifted you.

“Of course. And you can keep the jumper if you’d like,” Charlie said, adding with a slight mumble, “But you don’t have to wear it in class.”

You laughed as you strengthened the link between your fingers.

“Are you kidding, Charlie? I’m never taking it off!”

And with that, Charlie’s smile was plastered on his face as you pulled him out from behind the greenhouses. Were you dating now? It didn’t matter really. For now, you were the girl who kissed him freely and wore his name upon your chest and proudly held his hand for all your friends to see. Everything else was just formalities.

(Hi darling! We’re just having a Charlie weekend because that’s what I’ve felt like writing. I hope you like it!)

#charlie weasley #charlie weasley x reader #charlie weasley imagine #harry potter #harry potter imagine #lia's 1k celebration #nonnie #lia talks

620 notes · View notes

okayloki · 6 years

Photo

The other day i hit 1000 followers- which is something i never thought was possible! In honour of this momentous occasion i’ve decided to do some blog rates for all of my lovely followers who i cannot thank enough ❤️

Rules:

Must be following me!

Reblog this post

Send me an ask with your favourite marvel character and a song you associate with them!

Block the tag #lia does blogrates If you don’t want to see these!

Format under the cut ❤️

Posts: Not my fandom | Good | Amazing | Brb going to stalk | Valkyrie

Following?: No sorry but ily | I am now! | Yep! | Always and forever!

#lia does blogrates #1k celebration #:)

64 notes · View notes

jungwoniics · 2 years

Text

just out of reach. — an enhypen collab

“love may have the longest arms, but it can still fall short of an embrace.”

lia’s note: hi hellooo!! welcome to the first ever collab that i’m hosting and it’s for enhypen omg !! i’m hosting this in celebration of 600 followers and this is something i’ve been wanting to do for a while now heh so i hope you all will join me it will be v fun ^_^

THEME: the theme for this collab will be unrequited love! you can always drop me an ask/dm if you have any questions regarding the theme!

RULES AND GUIDELINES !!

the minimum word count is 1k. drabbles, timestamps or smau chapters will not be accepted. there is no maximum word count.

there is no smut allowed. i am a minor.

slots will be given on a first come first served basis! there are 13 slots in total with 2 slots per member!

pairing should member x reader or member x oc only.

do remember to add the readmore cut and state the warnings clearly at the start of your fic!

there will be a discord server made for this collab, so you will have to be over 13 to join the collab, since you have to be 13+ to use discord. i will send the link to the server to you when your application has been accepted.

plagiarism is not allowed! the codeword is “happiness”. if i find that you have plagiarised someone’s work, you will be removed from the collab.

to apply, please send me an ask with the member you’d like to write for as well as the codeword! dms and comments will be ignored.

the due date is 31 july 2022 (jungwoniics one year on blr omg). the last dropout date is 30 april 2022.

please be kind to everyone! do not, at any point of time, make anyone uncomfortable. the point of this collab is to make friends and have fun writing!

when posting your works, do tag it with #jungwoniics j.o.o.r !!

after being accepted, please reblog this post so other writers who may be interested see this!

SLOTS !! (4 slots available)

lee heeseung: @chiyuv // @seungstarss

park jongseong: (1 slot available) // @iwonzzi

sim jaeyun: @jungwoniics // @jung-breadshop

park sunghoon: @luvx01 // @carpexiem

kim sunoo: @parkmejeon004 // (1 slot available)

yang jungwon: @iioyous // @luvwonies

nishimura riki: // (2 slots available)

105 notes · View notes

angelsswirl · 3 years

Text

Vellichor

The One Where It Ends

Notes: 🥴🥴

Wrd Cnt: 1k

Ratings: T+

"My youth is yours. Tripping on skies, sipping waterfalls. My youth. My youth is yours."

Ryland folded herself into Taylor's side. She squeezed her eyes shut until her eyelids began to pound in pain. She made a noise somewhere between a groan and a sniffle.

Taylor frowned, rubbing her girlfriend's back, "What's wrong, Ry?"

Ryland hesitated in responding, but she figured it was now or never. It was time to get this off her chest.

"I-I just don't want you to be upset or mad."

"Did you kiss Landon?"

Ryland broke out from Taylor's hold. A look of evident disgust on her face, "Hell no!"

"I didn't think so. He's sort of been telling everyone at school that. Which is odd because you don't even go there anymore. Don't worry I'll handle it." Taylor said with her signature easygoing smile.

Ryland let her sigh take her back into Taylor embrace.

"I'm scared that you'll be mad when I tell you that I'm still not ready to mate or even have sex for that matter. I don't know if I'll ever be. To be completely honest the concept of sex doesn't really appeal to me. At all. Maybe if we can mate without it that would be ideal."

Taylor placed a soft kiss on Ryland's head, "That's okay, babe. It's my job to keep you happy and if sex does not make you happy then consider it crossed off the list. And when you're ready I'll look into non-sex ways to mate."

Ryland looked at Taylor with tears in her eyes, "I love you."

"I love you too."

~•~

"The more you come over here the more obsessed with you he gets. The other parents are going to think you're playing favorites." Wendy said as she watched her son move hurriedly around his playroom. She wasn't sure what he was attempting to accomplish but she knew better than to ask and to just wait until he was done.

"I am playing favorites." Lia said simply. She didn't bother to elaborate, but the small smile on Wendy's face indicated that she understood.

"Then why haven't you asked me out yet?"

Lia sputtered for a good thirty seconds before frowning deeply. Why hadn't she asked Wendy out yet? It was honestly a very good question.

She supposed she had been so caught up with her family and Maya and work end everything pointedly not Wendy that it conveniently never crossed her mind. Besides, she was also under the impression that Wendy definitely didn't like her like that and just wanted to be her friend.

And yes, now that she's thinking about it literally none of that makes sense. At all. But, who is she if not a gay mess.

"Wendy Son, will you go out on a date with me? Without the ankle biter."

Wendy smiled brightly and gave Lia a quick kiss on the cheek, "Of course I'll go on a date with you."

"Cool."

"And don't call my kid an ankle biter."

"Why not? We were playing dinosaurs the other day and he quite literally bit my ankle."

"You should have communicated the rules of dinosaurs better to him."

"This is my fault!?"

~•~

"You've got that look."

"What look?"

"That mom look. That look you do when you're momming."

You ooked at your wife with a roll of your eyes, "I'm always 'momming'."

Jisoo huffed, her wife was not getting it, "I know. This is different. You get this look when you're going to go into mama bear mode. Like when something bad is about to happen."

You nodded and thought for a second. You supposed your eyebrows were furrowed a bit more than normal. And it was safe to say that youe did feel like a shoe was about to drop. Like something was about to happen with one of your kids and you were going to have to do some major mothering or damage control. Often, with your kids those were one and the same.

"I don't know why, but I've just got that feeling, you know? Like one of your kids is about to walk through that door and tell me something I don't want to hear."

"Why are they always my kids when they do something you don't like?"

"Oh trust me. You won't like this either. But to answer your question, they normally take after you. "

The last time you had felt like this, they were sitting by Lia's hospital bed during her illness. The surgeon was about thirty seconds away from telling them that Lia probably would never be able to sing again.

You eyed the calendar hanging ominously on the kitchen wall. May was always a busy month for them. Three weeks ago had been Peyton's 18th birthday. Then the following week was her graduation. The day after that had been the anniversary of Lia's incident. A day they don't necessarily celebrate but always acknowledged.

"I think we're going to have to put another date on the calendar for May." You said. Your eyebrows somehow even more furrowed than before. One of the perks of being mated meant being constantly in tune with your mates emotions. Ever since Jisoo had finally gotten over her well to-do hang ups, it seemed as though they were even more in sync. Jisoo could practically feel the apprehension wafting off of her wife.

She stood up and wrapped her arms around your waist. Kissing you comfortingly on the neck, "Whatever it is, I'm sure we'll get through it. We always do."

You relaxed for the first time that day into your wife's arms, "You're right. I'm just being dramatic."

Jisoo kissed your cheek, "You wanna go be dramatic in bed?"

Before you could answer the front door opened. Peyton and Maya walking through it a second later. You eyed the grip Peyton had on Maya's hand. Jisoo eyed the look of fear in Maya's eyes.

And they both knew exactly what was about to happen.

"Mommy, mama. I'm pregnant."

You had been right on the money.

Jisoo pulled away from you with a harsh stretch.

"Maya." Jisoo spoke lowly.

"Yes ma'am?" Maya squeaked.

"Run."

Unlike with Lia, Maya knew to heed that warning. Without hesitation she took off the down the street. Jisoo hot on her heels.

And yes, you had been right. But Jisoo had been right too. All those months ago. When she was so apphrensive about her daughter and a certain alpha. She had been focusing on the wrong daughter and alpha. But nevertheless, she had been right. And as she's chasing Maya down this residential street, all she can think is "I was right!"

~•~

A.N. that's the end. I hope no one is upset with this ending. I know it may not seem like it but this book is somewhat rooted in reality and things these sometimes happen. let me know if you want that third anthology book i was talking about.

#jesssica's fanfic #blackpink fanfic #blackpink #jisoo fanfic #jisoo x reader #vellichor

8 notes · View notes

villlainarc · 4 years

Text

(I Could Put) A Little Stardust in Your Eyes

Summary: Stars are beautiful things. They glitter in the sky, blessing all those who wander the lands beneath them with soft, silvery light, and stars, being beautiful things, help others to find beautiful things of their own.

Humans, too, are beautiful things. That’s why the stars favor them especially, granting them another to spend their life with. These are soulmates; beautiful things drawn together to create yet another beautiful thing, a fate for each person written in the stars.

Pairings: romantic Losleep, queerplatonic Roceit, platonic Logince, platonic Sleepceit

Warnings: internalized arophobia for one (1) part of one (1) scene, let me know if i missed anything else

Word Count: 12,498

Taglist (ask to be added!): @max-is-tired @raaindropps @kiribakuandcats @main-chive @emo-disaster @wingedsoulmatedreamer

Notes: *shoves everything that happened in yesterday’s video aside except from the name reveal thank god for the find and replace feature* wdym roman and janus were mean to each other

for @sleepless-in-starbucks’s a meter of space contest (belated congrats on 1k and 1 year!)

fun fact i’ve been working on this since december and i remember this was based on a half-prompt or two (i think it was pining losleep from lia and then soulmate au from meri? We Can Pretend That’s Right) that i got when i asked for some but at this point i’m too tired to find the post and also if lia’s memory fails aer then i’m just gonna. Remain An Anonymous Anon fhdkfjd

ao3

_________________________

Logan likes to study the stars.

There are several reasons for this: they’re beautiful, they fill the sky, bringing light to the darkest of times, they’re constant, ever-shining, they speak of a wider universe.

And of course, they lead you to your soulmate.

Now, Logan hasn’t met his soulmate, but he’s still awed by the stars.

And he doesn’t need his soulmate anyway, not when he has Remy.

Remy. His best friend, full of beauty even at his most broken. His constant, ever-brilliant best friend who convinces him that life can be more than just facts and numbers, who taught him to look at the stars as more than just stars.

Logan knows that stars are glowing balls of incredibly hot gas. He knows that they’re primarily composed of hydrogen and helium, and he knows that their colors differ depending on their temperature.

And yet, when Remy says, “Each star is a lost dream, hoping to return home,” with such conviction, Logan has no choice but to believe him. When Remy proclaims, “Stars are hope for those who have nothing but their light,” Logan knows that in many senses, he’s right. And of course, when Remy purrs, “Ah, but you see, the stars are really just the sparkles I see in your eyes come to life,” Logan can only blush.

Stars aren’t just phosphorescent spheres of hydrogen and helium, and they aren’t just a tool used to find soulmates. Remy proves that, and that’s why Logan finds he loves both him and the stars so very much.

_________________________

Remy likes to study the stars.

There are several reasons for this, and they all lead back to Logan. His best friend, his very own star.

Remy had always wondered why anyone needed the stars when the people around them could shine so brightly on their own, but then he’d seen the way that Logan’s eyes lit up when he was given the chance to talk about them.

Then, he thinks that maybe the stars exist only to sparkle in his friend’s eyes. Maybe the stars exist just so Logan’s whole being can glow when he tells Remy that “Most stars come in multiples and orbit one center of gravity,” and does he think that this could be another reason that stars are the things that determine soulmates? Maybe the stars exist solely for Logan to look so radiant as he mentions to Remy that, “The stars with the most mass burn out the fastest,” and doesn’t he find it fascinating that some of the brightest things in the universe are so short-lived?

Or maybe the stars exist so he can watch as Logan stops talking about them at the slightest hint of a smile on Remy’s face, voice falling into nothing as he sits and stares. Maybe the stars exist so Logan can look at Remy as though he is one too.

Then again, maybe it doesn’t matter why the stars exist. Maybe they and their soulmate determining properties don’t change anything. Maybe the stars can’t change anything at all, especially not where Logan and Remy are concerned.

_________________________

But nothing so beautiful lasts forever, nothing so bright will survive for long. Even the night—the mystical, magical night, a time so shrouded in mystery—must fade, its secrets unveiled as the black velvet lifts away.

And as morning dawns once more, all is revealed. Nothing remains hidden, and the protection of everything held dear is no longer granted so willingly. In a world where light once again reigns and all is laid bare, something as fragile as the happiness Logan and Remy share can not and will not possibly survive.

Every beautiful thing must die, after all.

_________________________

They meet Roman first.

Roman, who Logan’s star finally shines for. Roman, the beautiful, perfect man who’s demeanor is just as bright as Logan’s star. Roman, the actor, the celebrity, Logan’s soulmate.

Logan is, of course, immediately smitten. Who wouldn’t be? This is Roman Prince, after all. He’s everything anyone could ever dream of having in a soulmate. And Remy’s not jealous of that, not jealous of him.

He’s not.

Remy likes Roman. He’s eccentric, but caring and sweet and sensitive and better with emotions than Remy will ever be. Logan deserves someone like him, someone who’s the fire to his ice, someone who’s just the right amount of extra to serve as Logan’s foil, someone whose head is high enough in the clouds that he lifts Logan ever so slightly from the ground upon which he’s so determined to stay.

Remy likes Roman. He likes that Roman is Logan’s soulmate, believes that two people so perfect must be right for each other.

And they are. Remy sees how easily they fit, how precisely they slot into the other’s life. They’re soulmates—of course they belong together. Of course they fit, of course they work, of course they’re… perfect.

Remy doesn’t know what he’d expected. Of course Logan has a soulmate who’s thousands of times more wonderful than Remy could ever hope to be. Of course he does. Remy shouldn’t have ever expected any different, not for Logan. Logan deserves all of this, deserves Roman and his romantic tendencies and pampering and love. Logan deserves all of that and so much more.

And Remy, no matter how much he cares for Logan, could only ever be so much less.

_________________________

They meet Janus next.

Janus, who Remy’s star finally shines for. Janus, the handsome, perfect person whose intelligent eyes shine with more intensity than any star in the sky. Janus, the flirt, the sophisticated and elegant, Remy’s soulmate.

Remy is, of course, immediately smitten. Who wouldn’t be? After meeting Janus, you’d understand how hard it would be to not fall in love with them. He’s everything anyone could ever want in a soulmate, and Logan isn’t jealous of her. Not jealous at all.

He’s not.

Logan likes Janus, truly. Janus, who’s so smooth, suave, and charming. Janus, with words like gold and a tongue of silver, so much more eloquent and self-assured than Logan could ever dream of being. Yes, Remy deserves someone like them, someone who can give him everything he’s ever wanted and more, someone who can wax poetic about him with all the ease of breathing, someone who’s dramatics give Remy’s heart a reason to soar.

Logan likes Janus. He likes that Janus is Remy’s soulmate, believes that two people so perfect must be right for each other.

And they are. Logan can see how easily Janus can bring a blush to Remy’s cheeks, how much she can make him smile. They’re soulmates—of course they make each other happy. Of course they laugh together, of course their eyes are brightest when they meet each other’s, of course they’re… perfect.

Logan doesn’t know what he’d expected. Of course Remy has a soulmate who’s trillions of light-years better than Logan could hope to be. Of course he does. Remy deserves all of this, deserves Janus’s brilliant mind and sparks of romance and love. Remy deserves all of that and so much more.

And Logan, no matter how much he cares for Remy, could only ever be so much less.

_________________________

On the night Logan and Remy have their first kiss, it’s raining—storming, really. The raindrops fall in sheets, and it’s a struggle to see anything more than a foot away. The sky has clouded over too, and the world is lit only by neon signs and street lamps, car headlights and refractions. There isn’t a single moonbeam to light the sky and not one star glimmers.

Perhaps that’s why they feel emboldened enough to talk to each other—really talk to each other—to confess, to pull each other close, to put everything they’d ever known in jeopardy. Perhaps, once the source of their fear had drifted out of sight, Logan and Remy understood for the first time that there was nothing to fear at all, that there never had been.

Perhaps, then, it is the trade of starlight for city lights that causes Remy to take Logan’s hand without a care for who’s watching, to spin him around with a laugh beneath a sky full of storm clouds, to twirl him ever closer before they stop in the middle of the sidewalk—does that all just to see his face, to have him near, would have always done all that and more. Perhaps it is the way the neon lights are reflected in the sheen of water on Remy’s face that causes Logan’s breath to catch in his throat, perhaps it is the fact that the raindrops coating Logan’s glasses looked like stardust that causes Remy’s heart to do that same.

Perhaps it is everything that was and is that lifts Remy’s hands to Logan’s face, keeps their eyes interlocked, lets the words “you’re beautiful” spill out of one of their mouths, out of both of them, out of none. The words might have been spoken with the way their eyes sparkled, hearts pounded, breathes quickened, smiles deepened, but they are there, floating in the air between them. They’re there as Remy wipes the streams of rain from Logan’s face like they’re tears, with an impossible sort of gentleness reserved for only the most precious of things. They’re there as he continues to brush his thumbs over skin dark as night and just as beautiful, they’re there as smiles fade into hopeless longing. They’re there as Remy’s gaze asks what words cannot, as Logan responds with a nod, both imperceptible to anyone outside of the now silent world of their own creation.

This time, Remy knows he says, “You’re beautiful, Logan.” He knows this because he feels Logan’s cheeks heat up beneath his hands and though his self-control had been a lost cause from the start, any that he may have still possessed vanishes in an instant. Remy’s eyes slip shut, and he’s falling.

Remy and Logan kiss like falling stars, doomed from the very moment their lips meet. They kiss like a star about to go supernova, like they know their time is limited to this instant and this instant alone. Their kiss is Gliese 436b, a paradox that occurred against all odds. Like Gliese 436b, the world around them is so cold, and yet they burn from the inside out. They are shooting stars, and they wish upon each other, neither wanting time to start up again, for everything to fall in on itself, for their universe to collapse.

But they burn too brightly to survive for long, so a collapse is inevitable. The light that was their kiss transforms to the complete absence of it as they both go dark; for Remy and Logan are not only stars, they are also a black hole—cosmic quicksand, dragging each other into the unknowable as they hold on with everything they are and it is still not enough, never enough. They can’t hold on forever, and so they must let go and they must breathe. That is their first mistake: extinguishing their shared light.

As they stop burning so intensely, they make their second mistake: allowing the light to stay dark. They still have their hands placed in rain-soaked waves of hair, running over cheeks streaked with what could be raindrops or tears, gripping wet shirts that cling to torsos, gliding over arms made smooth by water, but they will not kiss again. And that is a terrible, horrible thing because it allows for mistake number three.

Their third mistake is one that would have happened one day, even without mistakes one and two, one that is so inescapable that nothing could ever dream of stopping it. The third mistake Logan and Remy make is allowing for their once-burning light to collapse in on itself, to fall apart so thoroughly that the place they shared their kiss will never again allow anything near it to shine that brilliantly or at all. The street lamp that watches over them now will never again be illuminated after tonight, impossibly dark no matter what lightbulb is twisted into it. The car headlights that pass by will flicker, and any neon signs nearby will dim before going out with a pop of sparks. The collapse they will allow creates a darkness so profound that one cannot pass under the street lamp, stare into the headlights, wander past what used to be a neon sign without shivering—not from the cold, but from an atmosphere so desolate that anyone who bears witness to it will remember it with a feeling like a dagger to the heart for the rest of their days.

Their third mistake brings about an all-encompassing darkness, but the all-encompassing darkness is a result of the collapse that precedes it, a collapse that begins when Logan untangles one hand from rain-soaked waves of hair and yanks the other away from its grip on a wet, clingy shirt, and a collapse that is their third mistake, not the darkness that follows. The collapse only grows more devastating as Logan, still gasping for air, breathes out an apology. “I’m sorry,” he says, and the rate of the collapse increases astronomically.

“Why are you sorry?” Remy asks, about to destroy any hope that the black hole they’ve created might not rip entire galaxies apart. “Did you not want to kiss me, babe? No, forget I asked that,” he laughs, shakes his head, interrupts himself before continuing on a course set towards destruction, “of course you wanted to kiss me. I know you, doll, and I know you wanted to kiss me, and you said you wanted to kiss me, and I know that you love me. You must, and even though the stars say you don’t, I know you do and I know I’m right.”

“Remy,” Logan breathes, not wanting to say anything else at all. “Remy, I—” he hesitates once again, and the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest hitches as Remy leans forward in anticipation. Logan wants to prevent the shattering of the hope etched on his face, wants to offer an explanation that could somehow minimize the damage of the most destructive thing in the universe. But he doesn’t. He, in fact, does the exact opposite of that. By simply saying, “You’re wrong,” Logan has effectively sealed his and Remy’s fates.

“No,” Remy says, walking over broken glass with his voice, “I’m not wrong. You’re lying, babe. I know you are.”

In a sharp contrast to Remy’s, Logan’s voice is colder than space itself, freezing anything remotely human immediately and without remorse. “What does it matter? We both have soulmates, and mine is not you.”

“What does that matter?”

“What doe—” Logan looks incredulous, and the divide between him and Remy widens as he takes a step back. “I’m afraid I don’t see what you mean. Soulmates aren’t the sort of thing you can ignore quite so easily.”

“Come on now, babe. You of all people have heard stories of people who never find their soulmates, who find love in other places, who—”

“But those people haven’t found their soulmates. That’s the point, and that’s where we differ from them. We have found our soulmates, and ignoring the stars so blatantly will only break their hearts. I refuse to do that.”

“They’ll understand though, I know they will.” Remy’s voice sounds infinitely less sure than it had when he’d begun this conversation. The conviction has drained from his words, drawn into the endless depths of the ever-growing black hole.

Logan shakes his head, expression closing off entirely. “No. They won’t, and you know that as well as I do. You’re only deluding yourself if you truly believe otherwise.”

“Babe—”

“Please don’t.”

Remy knows what Logan’s tone means. That discomfort, that refusal to accept the pet name that’s normally thrown around so very casually, that icy expression twisting for barely the blink of an eye into involuntary fondness—Logan does love him. Not that Remy had ever doubted that fact, not really, but the confirmation is a comfort to hear. “Logan, then,” he amends, making a point to speak his name as reverently as possible, fitting as much love and adoration into one word as he can. “Logan, my darling, my dear, my light, my star—you will never know until you try.”

Logan, as a general rule, doesn’t blush. His skin is too dark for the red heat rushing to his cheeks to stand out and even if that wasn’t the case, he is impossible to fluster. But tonight, under a street lamp that will all too soon flicker out for good, Remy can see the barest hint of color gracing Logan’s cheeks. His mouth opens as he tries to form a response, but it shuts again just as quickly.

“No,” he settles on after a moment that had stretched on for a short eternity. “No, I am not going to risk hurting them. I care for Roman, and Janus is… she’s important to you. So we will not speak of this again. It would be best to forget this happened entirely.”

“Logan—” Remy begins, saying that name with the same sweetness he’d used before, reaching a hand across the darkness between them with a wish for one last brush of his hand against Logan’s cheek, one last touch.

Logan takes another step backwards. “I think it would be best if I didn’t see you for a while.” Another step. “I’m sorry,” he says. I’m sorry for kissing you when I knew I shouldn’t, I’m sorry if you loved me and I hurt you by pulling away now, by always pulling away, I’m sorry for falling in love with you when I knew we were never meant to be. I’m so, so sorry, he doesn’t say.

“I—” I love you, Logan. Nothing you do now or ever will change that, Remy doesn’t reply. “I’m sorry too,” Remy decides to say instead.

As the black hole from their supernova of a kiss forms fully, Logan walks away, rain streaming down his face once more, tasting oddly of salt when a droplet catches on his lips.

As the black hole from the supernova of their kiss forms fully, as Logan walks away, Remy stands beneath the street lamp, watching him go before the lights surrounding him all flicker out.

As the black hole from the supernova of their kiss forms fully, as Logan walks away, as Remy stands beneath the street lamp, every spark of hope either of them had ever held is extinguished by the rain that pours down around them; each dream of what could have been is consumed by the black hole of their own creation.

Everything beautiful must die, after all.

_________________________

Roman has been fighting for perfection his whole life.

From the moment he was born, he’d been expected to do everything right. Not one slip-up had been allowed, not one action that could in any way be perceived as wrong.

He’d been able to appear flawless—he still can, of course, and he doesn’t want to know what would have happened if he hadn’t been. His smiles glitter, the light hitting them just right each and every time. His grace is unprecedented, his skin unblemished, each curve of his muscles chiseled to perfection. Roman’s ideas are always polished when he presents them, and you’d have to comb through hours of footage to find a second of any of his performances that could be considered anywhere near average, and you simply wouldn’t find anything below that standard. Each word he says is picked out meticulously, long before he plans to speak them, and each laugh is even more carefully timed.

There is not a single aspect of Roman that wouldn’t be considered enviable. He has everything—star status, money, friends, fans—and it’s all due to his absolute perfection.

And it was hard to get there. God, it was hard. Being held to such a standard, constantly on display, each move he made being judged to the highest extreme imaginable—to anyone else, it would be impossible.

But for Roman? This has been his life for as long as he’s lived it.

The only thing that’s ever-so-slightly imperfect about him is the distinct absence of a soulmate in his life. It’s okay though! The world is more accepting these days, and soulmates no longer define you. The fact that Roman doesn’t have one hardly ruins his perfection.

Still, though, it does. The world may be more accepting, but not having a soulmate is far from destigmatized, and Roman is the only person of his caliber to be so very… flawed, in that sense.

He tries not to show how much it hurts to be looked down upon for something entirely out of his control, but it does. It hurts, and it hurts more than he will ever say. Roman’s fight to be perfect is doomed to fail unless he can manage to fix how utterly broken he is.

So that’s why, when he meets Logan and their stars light up the whole sky, he falls hopelessly in love in the very next breath he takes. The stars chose Logan for him, and the stars would not be wrong. It doesn’t matter who Logan is, what he’s like, if he likes Roman in return—it’s all negligible.

It’s all so very negligible because now, at long, long last, Roman is perfect.

_________________________

Janus has been perfect his whole life.

From the moment she was born, everything they’d done had been effortless. It was unfathomable that he’d make a single slip-up; not one action that they could ever make would be perceived as wrong.

Janus is, of course, far from perfect—and to be completely honest, he’s not sure why anyone would view him as such. Sure, she’s impossibly suave, causing anyone who crosses their path to swoon with the slightest of winks and sure, their cleverness enchants anyone who hadn’t yet fallen for them. Even with half of his face horrifically scarred, she is still one of the most utterly gorgeous beings to have ever lived—all glitter and mismatched eyes and charm, lit from within with confidence and smirks and eloquence. His words can convince anyone of anything, yes, but that isn’t to say that they’re manipulative. That would make him imperfect, and Janus is not imperfect—she is quick-witted and full of class, voice sugary sweet in a way that can’t possibly be genuine and yet is almost always entirely so.

There is not a single aspect of Janus that wouldn’t be considered enviable. He has everything—a brilliant mind and looks to match, riches, influence, people who would kill for them—and it’s all due to her indisputable perfection.

But the thing is—they aren’t perfect. Appearing to be perfect doesn’t mean that they actually are. And now— now he can’t be imperfect. Now, she’s held to a standard she can’t possibly keep meeting, constantly being observed and studied and judged—to anyone else, it would be impossible.

But Janus? They make this impossibility look effortless.

The only thing that offers him any reprieve from his neverending performance is the fact that he doesn’t have a soulmate. It’s the one thing that keeps her even slightly imperfect, and Janus is perfectly fine with it staying that way. All they want is to prove—one flaw at a time—that they aren’t infallible.

Still, though, no one believes him. They’re kept on a pedestal, their lack of a soulmate going completely ignored. Everyone she knows remains stubborn in the belief that she can do no wrong.

They try not to show how much it pains them to be living a constant lie, to never be allowed to act in a way that’s true to who they are, but it does. It pains him, and it pains him more than he will ever say. Janus’s quiet struggle to be herself is doomed to fail unless she can manage to prove to someone how truly broken she is.

So that’s why, when he meets Remy and their stars light up the whole sky, he nearly falls apart right then and there. It doesn’t matter to them why the stars had chosen Remy for him, and not only because the stars wouldn’t be wrong. It doesn’t matter who Remy is, what he’s like, if he too feels panicked and suffocated by the very idea of a soulmate—it’s all negligible.

It’s all hopelessly negligible because now, on a day that’s come entirely too soon for her liking, the stars have torn away her one hope at being perceived as imperfect.

_________________________

There is no such thing as perfection, not a single person who could ever be considered flawless. Even the day—the glorious, golden day, a time so saturated with majesty—has its faults, its radiance paled by the multitude of stars that pierce the night.

And as the sun does rise, each fissure that’s torn its way through each person is revealed. In the harsh light of day, there’s nowhere to hide and each stain lain upon a pristine world is thrown into sharp relief. Unable to conceal anything else, darkness retreats and, having been so thinly veiled, there was never any way Roman and Janus’s perfection could have withstood the onslaught of daylight.

The idea of perfection is a beautiful thing, but like all beautiful things, it can never last.

_________________________

Roman loves Logan. His boyfriend is brilliant and funny in a dry way Roman hadn’t ever thought he’d grow to adore, and Logan’s mind is one of the most beautiful things Roman has ever had the honor of being in the presence of. He is in awe of the darkness of Logan’s skin and how he can run his own hands over it, making golden lights spread over the night sky of Logan’s face or take Logan’s hand in his, causing warm starlight to glow from between his fingers.

And Logan is his soulmate. The stars brought them together, and Roman couldn’t be happier, couldn’t be luckier.

Roman loves Logan, really, he does, so why are his eyes constantly drawn to Janus? Janus, Remy’s soulmate. Janus, with the scar on his face that they make beautiful by framing it with shimmering golden highlights and the confidence to wear it proudly. Janus, whose smile could light the night sky all on its own. Janus, whose winks and compliments cause Roman to melt a little more every day. Janus, who— oh god. Janus, who—

Janus, who Roman’s in love with.

Janus, who Remy’s in love with, who’s Remy’s soulmate.

Janus, who isn’t Roman’s soulmate. Janus, who he can’t be in love with. Janus, who wouldn’t ever love him.

Roman realizes this, of course he realizes this. He understands that he will never be allowed to be with Janus, no matter what he may want. He knows that he still cares for Logan, albeit not in the way he’d originally thought. Spending his life with Logan won’t be so bad.

Even if Janus is right there, her gorgeously mismatched eyes taunting him every time they’re in the same room. Even if they continue to wink, to smile, to compliment, to flirt, Roman knows they cannot ever and will not ever be together. No matter what he may want.

So he ignores his feelings. Ignores Janus’s incessant winks, his smiles, compliments, flirtations. Roman ignores it all, making a point to dote on Logan ever more, take him on increasingly extravagant dates, use every opportunity he can to kiss him. He knows that doesn’t equate to love. He knows that he isn’t proving anything to anyone. But what else can he do when his mind short circuits every time Janus so much as looks at him, when it goes completely blank each time they laugh?

Nothing. Roman can do nothing about this, and it’s driving him insane. So what if this doting, these lavish dates, those unabashed displays of public affection are all performed to stop himself from further examining his own feelings? So what if it isn’t truly helping? So what if he can’t help but imagine running his fingers through Janus’s hair even as his hand ghosts over Logan’s? So what if he dreams that the fingers his are laced with belong to Janus instead? So what if fantasizes about holding them close to his body and burying a kiss in her hair while it’s Logan who leans against him?

Most days, faking everything works. Most days, everything feels almost normal. He’s been a perfect actor his entire life, and he’s not about to stop being one now.

And if no one notices that something isn’t normal, then maybe nothing is.

_________________________

Janus loves Remy.

…That’s a lie. He doesn’t love Remy.

…That’s not quite true either, though. Because they do love him, they do love his snark and sarcasm, his smirks and coffee-brown eyes so often hidden behind his sunglasses. It’s not true at all, really, because she does love all that and more. Just not in the way soulmates are, according to society, supposed to love each other.

So they aren’t in the wrong exactly, and she isn’t truly lying every time they tell Remy ‘I love you,’ but he also isn’t truly free of blame either. Her feelings may not be her fault, but the way they handle Remy’s feelings is. So she’s careful, so incredibly careful. His actions don’t betray a thing. To an outside observer, he would appear to be utterly, perfectly in love.

But that’s just the thing. She’s not.

…That’s a lie too. They are in love, just not with Remy.

At least, that’s what he thinks he feels. She thinks she’s in love, but then again, they’ve never been in love before. He has no idea, if he’s being honest, what love feels like. All she knows is that when she looks at Roman, she feels something entirely different than what she feels when she looks at Remy.

Remy feels like comfort and stability—something to hold onto when the rest of the world falls to ruin, a star that remains set in the sky, guiding you home.

They’d always been told that romantic love would feel like fire—something that burns on contact, a wonderful, searing pain that scorches you from the inside out, illuminating the best parts of you and incinerating the worst.

Whereas Roman… Roman feels like sunlight—something that’s not quite intense enough to burn on contact but still managing to light up corners of you that would otherwise remain hidden, casting shadows on things you’d rather not see, a ray of light that fills you with warmth and happiness and something just slightly to the left of what you’d imagine true love to be.

Janus doesn’t know a word for that feeling, though. It’s not quite as intense as love has been described to her as, but what else would it be?

No, they’re definitely in love with Roman. Roman, who’s spun of sunlight and pure gold. Roman, who’s outer physique betrays just how strong he is inside. Roman, with his bright laughter and genuine words and a mind full of ideas so intensely radiant no one else could have possibly dreamt them up. Roman, who she could wax poetic about for hours on end.

Roman who, yes, is Logan’s soulmate and not his. But that’s just a technicality, isn’t it? No star had ever stated that soulmates had to be strictly romantic. And the stars are wise. Soulmates were their gift to the world, they wouldn’t mess something like this up. Society is what dictates that soulmates indicate romantic attraction and romantic attraction alone.

And society is often wrong, is it not?

So perhaps Janus and Remy are, in fact, still soulmates. Perhaps Roman and Logan are as well.

But perhaps they’ve all been wrong about the sort of soulmates they are.

But then again, what if Janus is wrong about this? What if the stars do only deal in romance and her feelings for Roman are nothing more than infatuation? What if—god forbid—society is truly right this time? What if they just… choose to ignore their gut feeling this time? What if it’s better to continue pretending, just in case? Because what if he’s the reason Remy’s heart breaks, that Logan’s heart breaks, that his own heart breaks when he realizes his love for Roman is unrequited?

Yes, that’s what she’ll do. Keep pretending. Doing anything else won’t be worth the pain.

So Janus goes on pretending—pretending to be in love with Remy, pretending to be perfect. At times, it comes as easily as breathing. But at other times, she has to imagine Roman’s face in the place of Remy’s. Replace pale skin for golden, add warmth to his eyes and hair, sharpen his jawline and cheekbones, fill out his frame with just a touch more muscle. Pretend the cocky smirk is a blinding smile. It’s still easy enough, most days, and that’s all that matters.

They’ve been pretending their whole life, it’s not as though anything will go wrong now.

_________________________

The day of Janus and Roman’s first kiss is not “most days.” It’s the opposite, really. Logan and Remy aren’t there, for one. Janus is awake before the day has truly begun, and the scene in front of him is painted with golden fire. The sky is perfectly clear, and the only thing needed to light up the world is the soft glow of the sun.

Perhaps this radiance is why Roman too is awake at such an early hour. Perhaps that’s why he’s sought out Janus, why he’s approaching the steps of their porch with such light in his eyes. Perhaps, once the dark of night had passed, the truths Roman and Janus had held so close are finally brought with them into the dawn.

Perhaps, then, it is the trade of a midnight-colored sky for one spun from gold that causes Roman to fit himself next to Janus on the top step without a passing thought spared for the rest of the early-morning stillness, to allow his hand to linger just slightly too close to hers, to watch as the slow rise of the sun creates a perfect halo around their head. Perhaps it is the warmth of Roman’s hand that rests so close to theirs and the matching look on his face that causes Janus’s breath to catch in her throat, perhaps it is the way that the sky full of fire sets Janus’s eyes alight that causes Roman’s heart to do the same.

Perhaps it is everything that was and is that convinces Roman to place his hand over Janus’s, interlocks their fingers, lets the silence linger for a moment, for an hour, a year, a lifetime. The silence persists and though there is such intense meaning in the heat that ignites in their eyes and in the way their hearts pound, breaths quicken, faces glow—the air remains heavy without their voices to fill it. The world goes quiet as Roman lifts Janus’s hand off the ground like it’s a rose made of glass. It stays quiet as he becomes transfixed by the hand resting in his own, it stays quiet as he looks up to meet eyes of molten gold and sunlit skies. It stays quiet as Roman’s gaze asks what words cannot, as Janus responds with a nod, both actions imperceptible to the rest of a world still held captive by sleep.

Like the breaking of porcelain, Roman’s voice shatters the silence with the words, “You’re beautiful, Janus.” The destruction of something so pristine is more than fine though because as he says this, Janus’s face begins to glow with even more warmth and any restraint Roman may have previously been inclined to show vanishes in an instant. Unwilling to break anything else, Roman’s eyes stay open as he falls.

The kiss Roman lays on Janus’s hand is delicate, softer than the drift of cherry blossom petals floating to the ground. He’s impossibly careful with every movement he makes, picking his way through a cluster of thorn-covered roses—both avoiding drawing blood and basking in the beauty that surrounds him. Roman may have only kissed Janus on her hand, but that simple action causes both of their bodies to go alight with tongues of fire. They are the coming of dawn, bright and brilliant and inevitable; they revel in their warmth and the hope that they represent.

Sunrises don’t transform into black holes, don’t destroy everything they touch, don’t cause the universe to collapse. They simply are, certain and pure.

Nothing is ruined when Roman lifts his lips from the back of Janus’s hand. There is no tragedy that follows his next breath, no misfortune that befalls him. He merely sits there, breathing, living, waiting for Janus to make the next move as his hand remains wrapped around theirs.

“What was that?” Janus asks finally, choosing those words to fracture the silence while already knowing the answer to them. It was a confession, a confirmation, a spur-of-the-moment decision, a kiss.

“A kiss,” Roman replies, echoing Janus’s thoughts. “Did I overstep any boundaries?”

“No, no. I would have stopped you if I were uncomfortable.”

“Then what is it, my dearest?”

“I just— I need to think. I promise it’s not anything you need to worry over, but… I need time.”

“That’s perfectly fine,” Roman says, worrying anyway.

Janus’s head drops into their hands, and the world falls into silence once more. With nothing else to do, Roman leans back on his arms and lets his mind wander aimlessly as well, trying his best to stop himself from catastrophizing. He replays the kiss in his head, a soft smile growing on his face before he gasps and his eyes go wide with a realization.

Pushing himself off the ground, Roman turns to Janus. Placing a hand lightly on her knee, he proclaims, “I think you’re my soulmate, Janus.”

Janus blinks, startled. After going completely still for a moment, the reply he ends up giving is, “Are you sure?”

Now it’s Roman’s turn to blink in incredulity. “Yes, of course!” he says, a slightly conflicted frown growing on his face. “I know I have to have a soulmate because everyone has a soulmate and I know I don’t like Logan in the way you’re supposed to like a soulmate because the feelings I have for him are in the same vein as the feelings I have for my other friends—really, I’ve begun to think of him as my best friend because I do love him so very much, just not like that—and I love you in a different way, so you must be my soulmate. Since I can’t— I can’t just not have a soulmate, it has to be you. I love you, Janus, and I love you differently, so this is the only explanation that makes sense.”

“Roman, darling, that’s not how soulmates work.”

“What do you mean? Of course it is!”

Janus takes a deep breath, resolving to keep his voice gentle upon realizing he’s likely about to completely shatter Roman’s world-view. “Soulmates aren’t strictly romantic, you do know that, right? Often, they can take the form of a best friend or, when one or more of the soulmates in question is aromantic, a queerplatonic partner.”

“That can’t be right,” Roman says, scrunching up his nose in thinly veiled disdain. “Soulmates have to be romantic, that’s just the way things are.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, love,” Janus says, tacking the bit of affection onto the end to soften their words. “They don’t have to be romantic, and there are more cases than you can imagine that prove that. Your soulmate is determined by the glow of your star, not through your own interpretation of how you feel. You may love me, but that doesn’t mean I’m your soulmate.”

“So then… what are you saying? Do— do you not love me as anything other than a friend and you don’t want to properly reject me? Is that why you’re making up this elaborate story? Or is it because you don’t want to hurt Remy or Logan? Or—”

Janus cuts him off before he can come up with anything else. “What? No, it’s not that at all! Besides, Remy and Logan are so clearly in love that I don’t think they’d mind us being together at all and—” Janus cuts themself off, clearing their throat. “—and we can worry about those two gay disasters later. That’s not where I was going with that, apologies.” She rakes a hand through her hair before continuing with considerably less frantic energy, “I’m telling you the truth, Roman. I wouldn’t make something like this up, especially not since I—” Janus frowns suddenly, cutting off her words.

“You…?” Roman prompts, a glimmer of hope spreading across his feature.

Taking a steadying breath, Janus replies, “Since I— I love you too. But,” they add, holding out a hand once they see Roman’s mouth open, words on the tip of his tongue, “I don’t think I love you in exactly the same way you love me.” When Roman’s joy turns to confusion, she quickly begins speaking again. “It’s… a bit hard to explain, in all honesty. I know I don’t love you in the way I would love a friend, but at the same time—” Janus stops, unsure of how to continue. “You know how romantic love is supposed to feel like fire?” he decides to ask, changing approaches entirely. “And how platonic love feels like… a fixed star?”

And, weirdly enough, Roman does know. He understands Janus’s strange comparisons because he feels exactly the same way, and he’s so startled by the way that they’ve apparently seen into his heart that he merely nods in response.

“Well,” Janus continues slowly, “what I feel for you is something in between. Think of it as sunlight, almost. It’s still a force of golden heat, but it feels less like burning and more like a soft warmth that saturates your entire being. It may come from a fixed star, but the sunlight itself is more fluid and of a far warmer hue. It’s love, undoubtedly, but not exactly in the way you’d think of it.”

Roman nods again, Janus’s words resonating with him in a way nothing has before. Then, realizing again what she’s saying, shakes his head rapidly. “No. No, you’re wrong. That sunlight feeling is what I feel for you, and I know that’s romantic love. It has to be. Just because it’s less fiery than we’ve been told it should be doesn’t mean it’s not romantic love.” Roman shakes his head again, repeating in a whisper, “It has to be.”

“I’m not telling you what you’re feeling, Roman. Your sunlight feeling can still be romantic, I’m just trying to explain that mine isn’t.”

Roman knows, somehow, that his sunlight feeling isn’t romantic either. Calling it romantic simply doesn’t feel right, but he ignores that sense of wrongness. If this isn’t romantic love, then Roman has never felt romantic love and that means he’s broken and— “I can’t be broken,” Roman rasps out.

Janus reacts immediately, taking Roman’s face in her hands. “You aren’t broken.”

“But if that sunlight isn’t romantic love—”

“I told you it could be,” Janus interjects.

“—and I know it’s not and I’d only be lying to myself if I said it was—but if that’s the only thing I’ve ever felt that gets even sort of close to fire, that means I’ve never felt real romantic love and that means I’m broken.”

“No, it doesn’t. You aren’t broken,” Janus repeats again, the sunlight in their eyes turning her gaze that much more intense. They take a breath, taking one hand from Roman’s face to run it through his hair almost unconsciously. “Have you heard of the term ‘aromantic?’”

Roman shakes his head slightly, careful not to dislodge Janus’s hands from where they’re currently tangled in his hair and brushing over his cheek.

“It refers to someone who doesn’t feel romantic attraction in the same way the term ‘asexual’ refers to someone who doesn’t feel sexual attraction. Neither one means that the person is broken, or unfeeling, or in any way flawed. It’s simply a part of who they are—and a part of who I am.” Janus untangles his hand from Roman’s hair before shifting to sit on his knees. “Whether you also choose to adopt this label or not, whether you relate to it or not, whether you want to wait and find out more before you do anything or not, you, Roman Prince, are. Not. Broken.” With those words, Janus raises herself up until her forehead is level with Roman’s, resting it against his. “You. Are. Not. Broken,” they repeat, putting as much emphasis as they can on each word without screaming it.

“Thank you,” Roman says, and he means it with all of his heart. “I love you,” he adds, and he means it not as an afterthought, not in the way that feels like fire, and not in the way that feels like a star, but in the way that feels like sunlight.

“I love you,” Janus replies, and he too means it in the way that feels like sunlight.

She tilts her head down, Roman tilts his up, and their lips meet in the middle.

The first kiss Janus and Roman share is full of warmth, of passion, of love.

The first kiss Janus and Roman share is in the light of a sunrise that’s barely begun.

The first kiss Janus and Roman share is, even with all of their flaws, somehow, someway, impossibly perfect.

_________________________

“I kissed Janus.”

“That’s nice, Roman dear.”

“Logan, I love you with all of my heart, but did you hear a word I just said?”

Logan blinks, looking up from his book. “Of course I heard you, darling. You said you kissed Janus, which to be perfectly honest, I’m not sure why you expect me to have some kind of reaction to—” he freezes, realization lighting his features. “Oh my god. You kissed Janus.” A thousand different emotions flash across his face at once; relief and betrayal, joy and pain, uncertainty and fear and confusion. “Explain,” he finally settles on saying.

“Easy. I love them, and they love me. When two people fall in love, they often choose to—”

“Roman.”

“Right, sorry. Before I continue though, I feel like I should mention—and this may seem a bit out of the blue, but I promise it’s relevant—you’re in love with Remy.”

“…I’m what.” Logan peers at Roman through squinted eyes, his deadpan voice at once skeptical and utterly baffled.

“In love with Remy, but I’ll get back to that in a second. Firstly though, have you heard of queerplatonic partners or queerplatonic relationships?”

“I am familiar with the terms, yes. What does this have to do with—”

“Shh, just listen for a moment, Lo.”

Logan raises a sardonic eyebrow, not saying a word as he waits for Roman to continue.

“Yes, silence is good for listening,” Roman says with a grin. “Anyhow, what I was getting at is that essentially, Janus and I are in love, just not in the way one would be… romantically in love like, say, youandRemyare.” Roman coughs at the end as though clearing his throat. “He taught me about how he doesn’t feel romantic feelings for me, but rather something just a bit… different. I realized I felt exactly the same, she kissed me, you know the drill. That moment had all the makings of a perfect love story, if I’m being honest,” Roman swooned.

“That’s lovely, but I’m fairly certain that I, and not Janus, am your soulmate.”

“Ah, that’s where Janus’s genius comes in. Again.” Roman fluttered a hand to his chest, swooning once more. “They did research on that exact topic after realizing that ignoring their feelings would only lead them to more pain that they didn’t need, and you know what she found?”

“…Am I supposed to ask you a question for dramatic effect?”

“That would be ideal, yes.”

Logan sighs. “Whatever did she find?” he drones, barely an iota of energy put into his look of mocking curiosity.

“Close enough!” Roman declares. “Since you asked so kindly, I’ll let you know that Janus found out that soulmates—drumroll, please—don’t have to be romantic.”

Logan’s exasperated expression dropped from his face immediately and his whole being seemed to brighten with new hope. “What did you just say?”

“Soulmates! Don’t have to be romantic!”

“Are you certain?”

“Are you doubting the research capabilities of the love of my life?”

“I thought I was the love of your life.”

“Exactly!” Upon seeing Logan’s frown, Roman amends, “I mean, you can both be! That’s what’s so great about this discovery! Soulmates don’t have to be romantic, and in fact, there are so many precedents for them not being romantic that I’m shocked, I’d never heard a word about any of them before today.” Roman’s bright expression dimmed the smallest bit as his voice became more serious. “My point is though, you can both be the loves of my life since there are so very many types of love to be expressed and I have a nearly infinite supply of love to go around.”

“Oh.”

Roman looks at him incredulously. “‘Oh?’ Is that all you’re going to say?”

“If you’ll give me a moment, I’ll provide you with a more satisfactory reaction. I need to think about—”

“—what this means for you and Remy. Yeah, I know, I get it. You love him and he’s the best friend that you could ever ask for and you don’t want to ruin that by changing the label on your relationship.”

“…No. Not that at all.”

“No?” Roman asks, sounding genuinely confused. “Was that… was I not right?”

Logan tilted his head from side to side in contemplation. “Mm, those were my feelings before, but then—” he suddenly clamped his mouth shut. “Never mind.”

“No, please continue.”

“I’d rather not.”

“Aw, come on Lo. I won’t be upset.”

“Oh, I know you won’t, not after what you just explained. I’m more worried about— about Remy right now.”

“Sorry?”

Logan takes a deep breath. “I kissed him.”

“You what now?”

“Or he kissed me, or… it’s a bit of a blur, actually. I can’t seem to remember exactly what happened, but—”

“Logan, love, why would Remy be upset with you because you kissed him?”

“It’s not— it wasn’t—” Logan scrunches his face up as though trying to hide the emotions reveal themselves upon it. “It wasn’t the kiss.”

“What was it, then?”

“It’s… after the kiss, I… may have freaked out just a bit and decided it would be best for us to leave each other alone… ‘for a while’ I said, but I meant indefinitely.”

“Logan.”

Logan holds up a placating hand. “I’m perfectly aware that this was a terrible decision on my part, but in all fairness, I have never once claimed to be good at handling my emotions, especially not ones as overwhelming as what I feel for, uh. You know.”

“For Remy,” Roman says, looking expectantly at Logan. “You realize you’re going to have to admit out loud that you love him someday, right?”

Logan coughs awkwardly, looking to the side to hide his flushed face. “Yes, for— for Remy. Yes.”

“…That’s a start,” Roman concedes. “Now, what do you plan to do about your grade-a idiocy?”

“I haven’t thought that far ahead.”

“Yes, well, perhaps you should’ve.”

“I’m aware, Roman.”

“Would you like some assistance?”

“With… apologizing?”

“Mhm.”

“You know, I think that’s one thing I’ll be able to handle myself. I just have to call him, and everything will—”

“Hold on, hold up, stop right there. What, exactly, do you think you’re doing?”

Logan freezes, fingers hovering just above his phone screen. “…Calling Remy to apologize to him?”

“After breaking his heart, you’re going to apologize with a phone call?”

“That was the plan, yes. Why?”

“Because that’s a terrible apology!”

“As far as apologies go, I think it’s actually pretty standard.”

“Sure, but this is the love of your life, we’re talking about, Logan. You can’t apologize to him over the phone. You need to shock him with a romantic gesture so grand that he’ll have no choice but to forgive you!”

“Do you think— do you think there’s a chance he won’t forgive me?”

“No!” Roman corrects quickly. “That isn’t what I’m saying at all. I just think that this is a bigger deal than you’re pretending it is, so a bit of romance certainly couldn’t hurt.”

“You may be right, but I’ve never…” Logan shakes his head. “I wouldn’t even know where to start.”

“Well… if you don’t want to do something too grand and romantic, you can at least take him somewhere special.”

“Like a fancy restaurant?”

“No, not quite. More like… someplace that holds meaning for the two of you, you know?”

Logan lights up, positively glowing. “I think I have just the place.”

_________________________

“Remy darling, have you left the couch at all today?”

Remy pouts in response. “So what if I haven’t? I’m in emotional distress, babes.”

“Hm,” Janus hums. “While that’s fair, I still don’t think merely sitting around all day is going to do much to help with that.”

Remy’s pout grows. “Just because you’re right doesn’t mean you have to say it.”

Janus laughs lightly. “Come on a walk with me? You need to leave the house again someday.”

“I don’t, actually. You’re a fancy lawyer, so I can become a lonely hermit who never leaves his house with no consequence. Besides,” he grins, and after so much practice, it hardly looks forced at all, “I have you, and what more could I want?”

Janus raises an eyebrow, but they don’t comment. “How about if you come on a walk with me anyway, and if you really want, we can even go to that criminally overpriced coffee shop you like so much.”

“The one that’s over a mile away?”

“That’s the one.”

“And we’d have to walk?”

“Remy, darling, walking is good for you. A mile is hardly anything, anyway.”

Remy continues pouting, hoping that something in his face will make Janus relent. “You’re starting to sound like Lo—” his voice gives out, and he has to clear his throat to continue sounding unaffected, “—like Logan,” he finishes. “And why do you want to go on a walk so much anyway?”

“I have something I’d like to talk to you about, and if we start having a conversation while you’re seated, you’ll inevitably start pacing around the room. I’m just taking preemptive action to avoid that, love.”

“Good point, but now I’m worried. What do you want to talk about?”

“Come on a walk and I’ll tell you,” Janus says, a wry smirk on his face.

“This is blackmail.” Remy looks at Janus dolefully, his pout having taken up permanent residence on his face at this point.

“Oh, you don’t have to come if it would inconvenience you that much. I can always go out and get coffee by myself.” She blinks innocently, knowing perfectly well that no matter what she says now, Remy’s mind has been made up. There’s no way he’s going to be able to sit at home knowing that Janus wants to talk to him about a very mysterious, very anxiety-inducing something.

“You know what—” Remy trails off mid-sentence, realizing he’s been beaten. “I’ll get my jacket,” he says begrudgingly, finally standing up from his spot on the couch.

Janus smiles in reply, standing up to go wait by the door. “Good choice.” When Remy returns, leather jacket wrapped around himself, they gesture to the now-open door. “After you.”

“Thanks bunches, doll. Now,” he says, the moment he’s stepped past the threshold, “what’s this you wanted to talk about?”

“Why don’t you wait until we get outside at the very least? It wouldn’t do for us to have made it all the way out the door only for you to return home after barely a minute.”

“Sounds like you’re making excuses, Janus, my darling, my love, light of my life.”

“I would never,” she replies easily. “That’s a perfectly reasonable explanation.”

“Sure it is.”

“I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about.”

“Sure you don’t.”

“Just… walk down the stairs. That’s all I ask, love.”

“Yeah, and I couldn’t possibly complete such an arduous task.”

“Remy—” Janus sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose between his forefinger and thumb.

“I’m joking, I’m joking. The task is arduous, I’m just skilled enough to complete it without even breaking a sweat.”

Janus raises a skeptical eyebrow, shaking their head at that. “Why do I put up with you,” she deadpans.

“Because you love me,” Remy sing-songs, bounding down the stairs ahead of them.

“How could I forget,” he murmurs, watching Remy with thinly veiled amusement.

“How indeed,” Remy agrees, having just barely overheard them from partway down the staircase. “Now come on, I don’t want to be kept waiting after you’ve mentioned an important conversation.”

Janus descends the stairs after Remy, silent until they reach the bottom.

“What’s up?” Remy asks again, stuck to Janus’s side once more like a lost puppy. “Is something wrong?”

“No, nothing’s… wrong, exactly. And we aren’t outside yet,” she points out.

“That’s not ominous at all, babe.” Remy rolls his eyes, but Janus can tell he only does it to mask his nerves.

“I suppose it is,” Janus muses.

“…So’re you gonna elaborate on that?”

Janus steps outside. “One block first, so you don’t decide to turn back as soon as I start talking.”

“You’re stalling,” Remy points out, but he doesn’t press the issue any further.

“So I am.”

The two walk almost one full block in companionable silence before Remy asks again, “What d’you want to talk about?”

“It hasn’t been a block yet,” Janus insists.

“Technicalities bore me. Spill.”

Sighing, Janus says with no preamble at all, “I kissed Roman.”

“Stop right there, hun. Now, I’m sorry, but you what?”

“Kissed Roman,” they repeat.

“Anything else you’re going to say about that? At all?”

“So many things.” Janus takes a breath, opens his mouth, closes it again.

“Go on then,” Remy says, gesturing for her to do so with a nod of his head.

“Right. Essentially, soulmates aren’t necessarily romantic, and I don’t love you in a romantic sense. I don’t love Roman in a romantic sense either, technically—but that’s an explanation for another day. All that matters right now is that, provided you’re alright with it, Roman and I would like to be in a queerplatonic relationship and would far prefer to be nothing more than friends with you and Logan. Close friends,” he adds, “best friends, even, but not romantically involved. There’s precedent for this sort of thing if you’re wondering, and I can pull up a few sources that I have saved—”

“No, you know, I think I’ll be fine without a lecture. I get the picture, but what do you expect me to say? That I’m not heartbroken, that I wasn’t ever in love with you either?”

“Pretty much, yes.” Janus narrows their eyes at Remy. “You aren’t heartbroken, and you weren’t in love with me, correct?”

“I, uh—”

“You don’t have to lie, especially not after I told you the same was true for me.”

“Yeah, okay. I haven’t been in love with you, I just thought that you loved me and I didn’t want to hurt you by telling you the opposite was true.”

“Well, you can stop that now. And you can admit you’re in love with Logan.”

Remy freezes. “Sorry?”

“You’re in love with Logan.”

“I mean, I’m not going to tell you that you’re wrong, but how did you manage to figure that out?”

Janus fixes him with an incredulous look. “Are you serious?”

“…Yes?”

“Oh, Remy, darling, your crush was so obvious that I’m shocked the entire world didn’t see it.”

“It was?”

“Once I knew to look for it, very much so, yes. And you’re aware Logan loves you too, yes?”

“Mm, I’m pretty sure you’re wrong there.”

“And I’m pretty sure I’m not. What makes you think he doesn’t love you?”

“Well, he sorta kinda said that we shouldn’t ever speak to each other again? And like, he kissed me before that—or maybe I kissed him? And I know I was a bit pushy afterwards with confessions and all that, but I thought he was alright with me kissing him or with him kissing me and I’d been certain he was in love, but then he sort of freaked out, so I’m getting a few mixed messages. But at the same time, I think saying ‘we shouldn’t see each other for a while’ is a pretty clear rejection, don’t you?”

“I think that Logan’s a moron sometimes.”

“Hey!”

“Hush now, I meant that in the kindest way possible. He’s not very skilled at recognizing or dealing with his emotions, that’s all I’m saying.”

“Well, you aren’t wrong—”

“I know.”

“—but I’m still not sure if he meant it?”

“He didn’t, Remy. I can assure you of that.”

“How do you know, though?”

“Observation. That, and the fact that he tried to distance himself from you after your kiss. He didn’t want to hurt you.” Janus pauses in mock contemplation. “That, or he truly does hate you with his entire being and never wants to see you ever again in his entire life.”

“What?”

“I’m kidding, darling.”

“Why do I put up with you?”

“Because you love me,” Janus says, echoing Remy’s previous words back at him with a smirk on his face.

“Mm, right.” Remy goes silent for twenty whole seconds before speaking again. “But like, should I talk to him? Just in case, or something?”

“Well, I don’t think that’s entirely necessary, and Roman should be updating him on this whole situation as we speak, but if you think you should clarify, then I suppose you— hang on.” Janus frowns, pulling their phone from their pocket and answering it.

“Roman? Yes, I’m with Remy. Why do you ask?”

She goes quiet, listening to the voice on the other end of the line before replying, “Oh?”

They laugh lightly. “Anything for you, love.” A smile still on his face, he hangs up and puts his phone away.

“What was that about?”

“That? Nothing, darling, nothing at all. If you feel so inclined though, you might want to stop by wherever it was that you first met Logan.” Janus gives him a knowing smile. “Just a thought.”

“What if I choose not to?”

“Well, I can’t exactly make you go, but I think you’d regret it if you didn’t.”

“And that means…?”

“I’m afraid that’s Logan’s secret to tell, not mine,” they say, blinking innocently. “Now, unless you absolutely have to get coffee, I’d recommend you go find the love of your life. It’s getting dark, and I wouldn’t want you to lose your way.” She flutters her fingers in a wave, turning away. “Feel free to join me if you’d like, though.”

Even though they’d offered, she knew that Remy, of course, would never put anyone or anything before Logan and sure enough, when she turned back, Remy had already vanished around the corner.

_________________________

Everyone is made of stardust; each and every creation born of the remains of long-dead stars. This dust scattered across the universe at the dawn of time, forming galaxies and planets and stars—so very many stars—continuing to do so until the inevitable heat death of the universe, a constant cycle of creation.

If everyone comes from beauty, it only makes sense that they all contain it within themselves too, and it only makes sense that all creation is, in some way, magically, enchantingly interconnected. It also makes sense, then, that the stars—having come before nearly every other object in the known universe—understand these connections better than any other. Once those facts are taken into consideration, it’s no wonder at all that it is the stars that determine soulmates, and it’s the most widely accepted scientific theory as to why they do.

Logan knows all this about the stars, knows that everything that is and was is connected in impossible, unimaginable ways.

Remy knows this too, knows that things that come from beauty have every capacity to be beautiful themselves.

They both understand this, and yet it has taken them so long—so long—to apply that knowledge to themselves. It’s only as they walk alone upon tree-lined paths lit by twilight and look up at the sky, the first stars twinkling in their eyes, that they realize that if everyone and everything is beautifully connected, then they are too. And if they’re connected so beautifully, then what force in the universe could possibly keep them apart?

_________________________

“Do you think they’ll manage to work everything out?”

“Logan and Remy?”

“Mhm.”

Janus laughs, and it sounds like a fairy tale, like a golden bell forged from magic. “Contrary to popular belief, Logan is smart, so—”

Roman snorts, and it doesn’t sound like anything more than it is. It’s not poetic, it’s not the sort of thing to be lingered on in pretentious descriptions—it just is, and that’s why it’s perfect.

“Don’t laugh,” Janus says, laughing, “He is, albeit incredibly oblivious.”

“You can say that again.” It’s a muttered phrase, never one meant to be taken seriously, but Janus hadn’t ever claimed to play by the rules.

“He is, albeit incredibly oblivious,” they deadpan before continuing as though Roman hadn’t let out a laugh like light itself, shimmering so brightly that even in its softness, it couldn’t be missed. “But either way, I have no doubt that if you could come to your senses, they will too.”

Roman shoots up from his position lying across Janus’s lap. “What’s that supposed to mean?” His voice may sound offended, but the glimmer in his eyes betrays him.

“Oh, nothing at all, darling. I was merely implying that if Logan is oblivious, then we would need to invent an entirely new word to describe you.” Roman gasps, and Janus can see so many of her own mannerisms in the movement that her fond smile grows, could only ever grow around him. “I mean that in the best, most adoring way, of course.” His smile may have been replaced by a smirk then, but it doesn’t stay that way as not a moment later, Roman kisses it away.

“Of course you do,” he says, leaving behind another kiss—this one on Janus’s cheek—before adjusting his position. Now his head rests on Janus’s left shoulder, and he has much easier access to the line of their jaw and unfairly beautiful cheekbones (for kissing purposes, but also for admiration ones). “I know you love me.”

“Lies and slander,” Janus claims, but she’s burying her rapidly reddening face in Roman’s hair to breathe in the sunshine and cinnamon, so her words hold little weight.

Roman only laughs again, and this time Janus can feel the way the time pauses for the briefest of moments as their boyfriend blankets the world with his own form of magic, with a laugh that feels like fairy dust.

When the world resumes its usual rotation, Roman is smiling at him again. “I know you love me,” he repeats.

“I love you,” Janus agrees, voice softer and more honest than it’s ever been. Roman melts into him, humming contentedly as his face turns upwards, eyelashes fluttering in a silent request. And how could Janus possibly say no when her boyfriend has eyes burning with such light?

Janus kisses Roman, and the sky blazes with sunshine and fire. They meet, and they are a kilonova, showering the universe in gold. They aren’t soulmates, and they aren’t quite in love, but they are everything to each other and more and somehow, some way, they are perfect. So perhaps it’s fitting, then, that they aren’t soulmates. A word such as that couldn’t possibly define all that they are.

They both know intrinsically that there is no such thing as perfection, that it’s human to be imperfect. They know that some cycles are forever fixed and that somethings are meant to end.

So even though they know this and even though they may not be soulmates and even though they are aware that it is because of the stars that they met and because of the stars that they’re together, Janus and Roman will still never go gently into darkness, into the night. Just because they understand that perfection is an impossibility does not mean that they will not fight for something as near to it as they can get in every waking moment.

And as they rage against the dying of the light, the golden star that illuminates the world fights too, and it rises once more. Bathed in its glow, Janus and Roman are both unwaveringly confident in the fact that this moment, this sunrise, this picture-perfect kiss is… perfect. They know without a shadow of a doubt that no matter how unlikely, how impossible, they are perfect.

_________________________

“It’s been a while since we were here,” Remy muses, cresting the top of the hill, smiling when Logan comes into view. “I’m glad to be back.”

“Me too,” Logan says, returning his smile, so close to appearing calm, to hiding his nerves. “Why don’t you sit down?”

“Anything for you.” Remy’s words were meant to sound cheeky, but they come out genuine in a way Logan can’t even begin to process.

Logan takes a breath when Remy is seated in front of him. “I have an apology to make.”

“Oh?” Remy cocks his head curiously. “Hun, if anyone should be apologizing, it’s me. I was the one who overstepped my boundaries when I shouldn’t have and kept pushing for a confession of what I thought was the truth even after you denied it so vehemently and I—”

“Remy,” Logan sighs, “you have no reason to be sorry, I assure you.”

“I— what?”

Logan takes a breath, steeling himself. “Remy, I know I hurt you when I walked off the way I did and ceased all communication with you. And I— I also lied to you that night because I was… scared. I was scared to admit what I felt because I was scared that it would hurt someone else I care about, so I denied that I— Uh, that is to say, I denied what you said. I know that’s no excuse for not telling you the truth, but I hope you can forgive me nevertheless. I’m truly sorry for hurting you, Remy.

“And I— I love you. Hurting you broke my heart, and I never want to feel like that again.” Logan clears his throat, trying to continue speaking past the emotion beginning to clog it. “In any case though, even though we aren’t star-determined soulmates, if you’ll accept me, I’d still like you to be my boyfriend, and I yours. Because if I’m being perfectly honest, no matter what kind of relationship they dictate, the stars don’t matter, not really, because I choose you. I have always chosen you.”

Remy sits there for a moment, star-struck and silent. At long last, he finds his voice returned to him. It’s breathy and barely audible, but it’s there without a doubt because Logan knows—he knows—he hears Remy ask, “Can I kiss you?”

That isn’t, after all, the sort of request you would miss for anything less than the world.

And Logan knows—he knows—he’s been gifted the most beautiful thing in existence when he replies, “For the light of my life? Anything,” and Remy leans closer and he knows—he knows—that everything in the universe is right when they collide.

Together, they are stars. And like stars, they glow brighter together, side by side before they meet and emit a light so brilliant it could be seen across galaxies. Like stars, they collide and fall into each other and become one. Like stars, once they’ve touched they steal the light from the air around them to aid their luminance, and they shine and they glimmer and they gleam and they don’t want to ever let go.

And yet, they are more radiant than the most brilliant constellations, than quasars, than every star in the sky combined—so radiant that whole galaxies pale in comparison. Logan and Remy are stars, but they are also so much more.

They are human.

They are human, and that’s why the stars look upon them with such favor. They are human and imperfect, they are human and ablaze with more dazzling, glittering, intense light than even the stars themselves could possibly fathom, they are human and they are in love.

They are human, and as they kiss beneath the clear, bright sky, they realize that this—whatever this may be—is right. Logan and Remy are not soulmates, but the stars don’t make mistakes. Logan and Remy are not soulmates, but they were meant to find each other. Their kiss was meant to happen.

Logan and Remy are not soulmates. No, Logan and Remy are something ineffable, something human, something more, and if that means the stars painted their destiny in a different hue, then they are glad they can see all the colors of the sky.

_________________________

It is said that nothing so beautiful lasts forever, that nothing so bright survives for long. It is said that even the night—the mystical, magical night, a time so shrouded in mystery—must fade, along with any secrets it holds. It is said that every beautiful thing must die.

It is said that there is no such thing as perfection, that not a single person could ever be considered flawless. It is said that even the day—the glorious, golden day, a time so saturated with majesty—has its faults, its radiance paled by the stars of night. It is said that everything beautiful must die.

And it is true that beauty never lasts, but it isn’t meant to. Beauty so often exists because of uncertainty, because of the flighty nature of life. Everything beautiful must die, and that is why these beautiful moments are as beloved as they are. That is why Remy and Logan look at each other like they’re stars, why Roman and Janus allow themselves to be imperfect, why Remy allows himself to be vulnerable, why Logan admits that he’s not always right, why Roman stops putting on his never-ending show, why Janus allows themself to be truly honest, and why all of them will treasure each precious second from now until the end of time.

_________________________

find other stuff i’ve written under #writings from the stars

48 notes · View notes

rheanrya · 4 years

Text

So - I haven’t done one of these in forever but this is honestly such a milestone for me I thought it would a travesty not to celebrate!

My goal for so long was 1k followers and then earlier this year I reached it. In the last few months I gained so many followers in such a short time, I was so surprised and so damn grateful - you’re all wonderful and such a nice community! I now have 1.3k and I can’t bloody believe it!

I was hoping to do a Holidays Requests event, but seeing as this has come first, a follower celebration was more apt. So I will be making gif sets and edits and icons ☃️

The rules:

- mbf this little munchkin

- reblog this post (likes only for bookmarking!)

- send me a ☃️ + your favourite character or fandom from one that I am in

- maybe check out the AWAE Network where I am an admin

Thank you so so much to everyone who follows. Tagging some mutuals:

@shirehobbit @annessnowqueen @branstark @baizencarter @hellochapitsme @ohjaimelannister @ravenclawcs @gilbertblyythes @glbertblythes @aphrodettes @blythelacroix @violetsbaudelaire @airikki (lol Lia tagged you twice) @raspberrycordially @rubeegillis @starkrobb @the-marauders @eggnogthor @odinsonn @naerystargaryn @lothbroksragnar @shxrii @baratheonarya @daeneryses @ohsweetbelle @daenersys @irouman @captainfrisbees @etherealdrco @theseuscmander @ohsosims @hogwartsexx @sherlocksed @lvnnisters @gendrywcters @bilbaggins @snowjon @scottvandyne @reyyjedi @kabrekker @herrmionne @jeaingrey @jesperwylan @starkmorgon @bellamehblake @atbensolo @awstark @blogthreehundredandninetyfour

NB - I used to be @ anncbert !!!

#snowblythes follower celebration!#userclarissa #snowblythes #follower celebration #!!!!#yay thank you so much!#awae #annewithane #game of thrones #harry potter #marvel #mcu #stranger things

42 notes · View notes

mochie85 · 1 year

Note

Smut prompts “Show me how much you need me.” and “Hands behind your back.” Please for my baby Bucky ❤️ Love youuuu and thank youuuu

Brut Gold - Chapter 2 Rosaline & Bucky

1K Celebration Masterlist Brut Gold Masterlist Complete Masterlist

Summary: Of all the clubs to go to for your Bachelorette Party, you had to go to Thor's, your former lover. But you didn't know it was his, and when Bucky finds out, he tries to make you forget about him completely. Pairing: Mob!Bucky x Female Reader/OFC Word Count: Over 3.5K Warnings: Mentions of killing, language Steve Rogers wouldn't approve of, jealous Bucky (let's face it, that's a warning), praise and degradation kink, oral, P in V, rough sex. A/N: I want to thank @springdandelixn for this request and for being so patient with me while I write this. And I want to thank both her and @michelleleewise for being my BETA reader on it. Also, I'd like to thank @thalzr for helping me with some of the Romanian translations. Dividers by: @firefly-graphics

Dugan walked down the hall toward James’ office. The classic Rococo furniture contrasted with what the newer generation of the family preferred. But they would never change it. Because what the Barnes family loved more than their outdated furniture was tradition.

They were immutable. The habit of the institution was ingrained into them as young as five years old. For James “Bucky” Barnes- probably younger because he was set to inherit the family business.

Dugan walked in as a lifeless body was being dragged out. The face was unrecognizable as the only feature standing out was a backward initial ‘J.B.’ imprinted on the man’s cheek.

Steve nodded as he saw Dugan approach. He held out his hands towards him in greeting. “Dugan, how are you, my man? Or should I still call you DumDum?” Steve chuckled.

James was watching through the window’s reflection as smoke from his cigar blew out from his thin lips. His other hand, adorned with bloodied rings, nursed a half-filled glass of bourbon.

“You’re never gonna let me live that down, Rogers? I was four!” Bucky said talking to Steve’s reflection.

“And you’ve been calling him that ever since.” Dugan smiled wearily as he took Steve’s hand and greeted him. He didn’t want to end up like the faceless man that was dragged out moments before.

“Why are you here?” Bucky asked him suspiciously. “You were supposed to be watching the bachelorette party.” He turned around, looking straight at Dugan.

“Bucky, you’re not gonna like this,” Dugan answered, looking sideways at Steve.

“Where’s my fiancé, Dugan?” James asked level toned. Dugan took a moment to decide which information he should start with first. “WHERE IS SHE?!” Bucky yelled and Dugan flinched.

“She went into Odinson territory. Got into one of his clubs. I could only watch from the border. I left Junior behind to watch and inform me when she and her friends come out.”

“You left the protection of floricica mea to a greenie? WHY WAS SHE EVEN FUCKING THERE?!”

“Buck, I’m sorry. I tried…” Dugan started. Bucky grabbed his collar and pushed him up against the wall.

“And if something happens to her, Dugan? If she gets kidnapped? What happens? Will you be sorry then too?” Bucky let go of his shirt. “Go back and tell me as soon as she comes out. Grab the entire party and send them home. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, boss,”

“Bring Rose and Lia here!”

“Yes, boss,” Dugan quickly accepted his command and left. Bucky was seething. He knew of your history with the older Odinson brother. Why the fuck would you go there?

“Buck, I’m sure there’s an explanation,” Steve tried to placate him. “Maybe she didn’t know.”

Bucky contemplated, then sighed. “No. That’s bullshit. She knows the boundaries, at least.” He downed the rest of his whiskey and slammed it on his desk reaching for the decanter. Steve watched him from the corners of his eyes as he sipped his drink slowly. He knew Bucky could be temperamental…at best. You were an angel for having fallen in love with him.

“Buck, she’s madly in love with you. YOU! You crazy, fucked-up psycho. She’s a saint for doing so. And for all you know, it could’ve been Lia who suggested it. She wouldn’t know where the borders are.”

“Lia can be rebellious,” Bucky noted.

“She’s naïve. Which in our line of work, can be dangerous.” Steve answered back.

“She didn’t grow up in the life.”

“Does she know? That you’re…about your family business?” Steve waved his fingers around.

“If she doesn’t, I think she suspects. She’s smart. Or Rose told her. They tell each other everything.”

“That whole family has brains. How’d you manage to snag Strange’s daughter anyway?” Steve asked finishing his drink. “Does that mean The Hospital isn’t neutral anymore?”

“Strange won’t let me anywhere near The Hospital unless I’m on my deathbed.”

“Hmm.” Steve nodded, knowing he wouldn’t get any more info other than that from his long-time friend.

You stepped out into the cold evening air, a slight breeze chilling the night. Bucky was not gonna like this. If you learned anything by now, you knew that Dugan had sent word to him that your bachelorette party wandered into Odinson territory and that he would be furious.

You didn’t know this was one of Thor’s clubs. You just followed your bridesmaid’s lead, talking about a brand-new spot that was trending. The lot of you had gone from one bar to another. Always within James’s borders of protection. You tried to steer the party back, but your cousin, Lia wanted to see it. Lord knows you can’t say no to her and her damn puppy eyes.

You thought it would be ok, one quick drink and lay low so you don’t gather attention. It wasn’t until you saw Lia kissing Loki Odinson, of all people, that you realized you were going to be in trouble.

You walked out onto the breezy summer night and before Lia could step foot on the concrete, Junior had already come up to you and your friends.

“Ma’am,” was all he said.

“He’s not happy, isn’t he?” you asked quietly.

“No, he’s not,” Dugan answered from behind Junior. “He’s furious.”

“I’m sorry Duggy. I didn’t know,” you said out of earshot from your friends. You were the only one who could call him that and make it sound endearing. You tried to channel Lia and gave him your sweetest puppy-eyed face.

“Well maybe you can get away with that, but I can’t. C’mon, he wants you guys to end the night,” Dugan ordered, motioning you guys back to two large SUV’s waiting on the curb.

In all honesty, you were glad that the night was ending. Aside from Lia, everyone there just tolerated you. They were there because your fiancé was “Bucky” Barnes and wanted to make advantageous connections with his future wife. They weren’t there for you.

After dropping the two of you off at Bucky’s house, Dugan set off to drop off the rest of your bachelorette party. Holding your hand, Lia followed you down the hall into James’ grand office. She gave your hand a heartfelt squeeze. Making sure you were all right.

“I’m sorry, Rose. Did I get us in trouble?”

“No. No, it’s all right,” you squeezed her hand back. “Even if Bucky is mad, what’s he gonna do? We didn’t do anything wrong.” You put on a brave face. You knew what kind of temper he had. It was never directed at you, but you’ve heard the cries of the men that have wronged him. He tried to shield you the best he could, but you were around it all your life. Especially since your father was the neutral doctor for all the families.

The scent of fresh cedar and tobacco hit your senses as soon as you entered his office. You froze for a half second. A habit you did involuntarily whenever you saw James. Not because you were frightened, but because his presence, his undeniable charisma always made you pause.

Lia walked up to him and kissed him on the cheek. She held his hand and whispered, not too quietly, “Be nice. Or I’ll have to hurt you!”

“I’m always nice!” Bucky played offended. “C’mon. Have I ever not been nice?” he lovingly touched her nose with the tip of his finger and Lia giggled. You were so happy that they got along. Lia was hesitant about him at first, but she saw how you looked at him with love and devotion in your eyes. She saw how happy you were and how much you were yourself whenever you were around Bucky.

Most importantly, she saw how completely and madly in love Bucky was with you. How he would move heaven and earth for you to be happy. That was what won her over.

“Rogers, why don’t you take Lia here for a walk in the gardens? I need to speak to my future wife,” James calmly ordered. Both Steve and Lia looked at you. Worry and wistful glee warring on their faces. Steve held out his arms and Lia took them. Their footsteps echoed on the hardwood floors as they left the room.

A quietly charged moment went by, and all James had done was stare at you. The deep-set brows on his face downturned in anger. Or worry? Neither was good when it came to Bucky.

You crossed the small space in between you and placed your hands on his chest. He lifted his head and looked down at you. His devastating features only got more handsome as he tried to be indifferent and stoic. His jaw was set, his nose flared and his eyes narrowed at the innocent cherubic features you were trying to portray.

His fingers grabbed your chin gently and forced you to look into his eyes. “Of all the places, Roza, why his?!” You heard his deep Romanian accent come forth. A shiver ran down your body, making your stomach curl in desire. His accent was only obvious when he felt a deep emotion. You recounted all the times that voice came out in the throws of passion as he took you over and over again.

“I didn’t know, Bucky. Honestly. I was just following the girls. They wanted to try out a new place. Some place they hadn’t been before, and I was just catching up with Lia. I didn’t notice that we had gone into Odinson territory. Or that Dugan had stopped following us.” You caressed your hands up and down his chest.

“HIS PLACE, ROSE?! Of all the clubs it was his place!” he held on to your hands and stopped your caress.

“Bucky! It’s over. You know that it is. He never loved me. Not like you!”

“Oh, don’t start comparing me to that bastard!” he let go of your hands and moved away in anger.

“It’s true!” you yelled out. “I was just something to pass the time for him. I…”

“Do you think that makes me feel any better?”

“Let me finish!” You stomped your foot. Bucky picked up his glass of whiskey and threw it against the wall from your opposite direction. You didn’t let it faze you as you slowly walked over to him. His anger dissipated with your every step. “He didn’t mean anything to me either Bucky. He was a tool. To anger my father. But you…you are the love of my life. The one I chose to spend the rest of my life with. I hadn’t even thought about him until tonight when I found out where we were.” You said placing your hands in soothing circles over his chest.

“Did you see him tonight?” he snarled.

“No.” You answered looking into his eyes so he would know you weren’t lying.

“Did he see you?”

“I honestly don’t know. I was too busy dancing with Lia.” You tried to give him your best apologetic face. You peppered small kisses onto his cheek and made your way to his lips. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you, wanting him to open up and kiss you back. “What can I do to prove to you that I love you, dragostea meu, my love?”

Bucky stood there stubborn, yet slowly losing his resolve. Your soft lips on any part of his skin always excited him. “No one makes me weak like you do,” he said grabbing your waist. “Or so fucking angry!” James growled at the last word.

He pushed you up against his desk. The familiar cold mahogany sends chills up your skin as he picks you up by your waist and sits you down. He pulls up his chair and sits. He lounges in it with a slight swivel as his eyes travel the length of your body. He spreads his legs, showcasing the hard bulge he’s been trying to conceal.

“James, I really am sorry…”

“Shh. Spread them for me, sweetheart. One leg on each armrest,” he commanded as he scoots closer. You quietly and slowly open your legs and lean back as you placed your strappy heels on the armrest of his chair. The hem of your dress rides further up your waist and you almost whimper from his stare. That hungry look in his eyes, as if he found something he would kill for. Something he would die for.

“You’re so beautiful spread out for me like this Roza. Ready and willing.” He traced his fingers on the outside of your calves. His warm lips pushed against your supple thighs, slowly inching closer and closer to where you wanted him most.

“Tell me, Roza, did he ever worship you like this?” his nose grazed against the hood of your clit, sending shivers throughout your body. His tongue traced the seam of your panties and made you open wider. “Answer me, sweetheart.” He grabbed you and pulled you closer to his face. He looked up at you, but your head was thrown back in ecstasy, savoring him between your legs.

“N-no. Never,” you gasped as his mouth latched on to your sensitive nub. The thin fabric of your panties stopped his tongue from entering further. You pushed yourself closer to him. But he held you still, teasing you, knowing you wanted more.

“Mmm. This little number you have on is beautiful. Did I buy this for you?” you shook your head no. He traced his fingers on the gusset of your panties and pulled to a snap. You yelped in slight shock, more than pain. “Hmm. And these shoes?” Bucky asked as his hands pulled your panties off and traveled the length of your legs down to your ankles.

“I bought them, baby.” You answered. Bucky stood up slowly and leaned over you on the desk. He trapped you in between his muscular frame as he looked down at your lips. He kissed you fervidly. All teeth and tongue, leaving you gasping for air. His lips roamed down to your collar, and he bit the chain hanging on your neck.

“And this? Who bought this?” he said licking the bruise he just made.

“I did.” You answered. “I bought it for myself.”

“So you don’t need anyone, do you floricica mea? You certainly don’t need that low-life prick who couldn’t even bother to get on his knees and worship you like the goddess you are.” His head dipped lower, trailing his tongue in between your breasts. “Which means you don’t need me either, do you?”

“No, I don’t need you.” You whispered. Bucky paused and stared deep into your eyes. He started pulling away, but you grabbed his face between your hands and pulled it back up to yours. “I don’t need you. Or your money.” You brushed your lips against his. “But I want you. I want you Bucky Barnes! In every way and in every chance I get.” You kissed him, sucking on his top lip, as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

You reached for his belt, undoing the fastening and making quick work of his zipper. Your hand brushed up against his hard length, feeling him throb through his boxers. Your mouth salivated at the thought of his arousal.

“Do you see what you do to me, Roza?”

“Oh, Bucky…” you whimpered as you pushed him back down to his office chair. He grunted when he hit the cushion and you swiftly placed yourself in between his legs. He stared up at you with ravenous eyes, licking his lips as he watched you lower yourself onto your knees. “Let me prove to you how much I want you.”

Bucky leaned forward to capture your lips. Your fingers unbuttoned his shirt one by one tracing the hard muscle underneath. You dipped your fingers under the hem of his boxers and pulled them down, his large erection springing free from the tight confines of his pants. He groaned as you fisted him, your fingers barely closing around his large girth.

You licked the tip, tasting him. “Fuck,” he growled as his head rolled back. You continued to give him small licks, kissing and sucking down the length of his cock. Your hand moved to a rhythmic pace as you softly bit the base of his shaft, sending bolts of pleasure up his spine. You licked your way back up to the end and swallowed his tip. You could see his knuckles clenched and white on the armrest of the chair.

“Don’t tease me now. Show me how much you need me. How much you want me.” He said, one hand holding the side of your face. You moaned, opening your mouth wider and sticking your tongue out further. You took him in slowly. Inch by inch until his cock hit the back of your throat. “Look at me while you suck my cock.”

You looked up to see his gorgeous face curled in pleasure. Your eyes watering as he slowly pushed deeper into your throat making you gag. He pulled out slowly, savoring your lips around his girth. “Fuck,” he panted as he saw himself coated in your saliva. “That’s a good girl.” He thrust back into your mouth. “A good fuckin’ girl.”

You continued to bob your head up and down. Your hand worked in tandem with your mouth. All you could hear was the gulp and swallow of your mouth mixed with Bucky’s shameless, feral moans. Even after holding the base of his cock, he felt heavy in your mouth as you dragged him faster and faster through your lips.

“St-stop,” he whimpered into the air. But you kept going. “Stop, Rose.” But you couldn’t. He chuckled at your eagerness. With one hand on your head, he pulled you off his hard cock as it bounced back toward his stomach. “Naughty little Roza” He smiled as he pulled your hair up to look at him. “I didn’t know I was going to marry such a slut.”

His words sent a chill throughout your body. He always danced that fine line between praise and degradation that always made you weak. “Bucky,” you whined.

“I know, sweetheart. I know. You need my cock inside you, don’t you?” You nodded as you turned your head licking his wrist that was holding your hair. “Stand by my desk and bend over for me. Hands behind your back.” He commanded.

You quickly complied, moving to stand by his desk and bend over it. You spread your legs apart putting most of your weight on the desk. The cold mahogany felt like ice against your heated face. You placed your hands behind your back and slowly pulled your dress up, showing him your dripping cunt. You heard the sound of his buckle as he stood. “You’re such a good little slut for me aren’t you?” Bucky slid two of his fingers through your folds, teasing you.

“Only for you, Bucky.”

“Only for me,’ she says.” There was an edge to his voice that made you nervous.

“Only you.” You repeated.

“Oh, floricica mea, you have no idea what I would do for you.” He spanked your ass, causing you to cry out in shock. He grabbed both of your wrists in one of his hands and secured them on your back. With his other hand, he lined up his cock at your entrance.

“You have no idea what I would do to anyone who ever touched you,” he slammed into your heated core making both of you cry out at the same time. Bucky bent over you, his hot breath tickling your ear as he said, “You are mine, Rosaline,” he growled. “MINE. I’m gonna make sure you forget that he ever existed.” He slammed further against you making you scream. A gargled plea between pain and pleasure.

Bucky stood back up and began thrusting his hips inside you. “…Ohfuck…God Bucky!...”

“That’s it, baby girl, say my name.”

“…B-bu…” you panted. With every thrust, every push, you felt the weight of his large cock pressing inside you. “…bucky…youfeelsogood…so good baby…” He took you hard and rough, keeping your chest pressed down onto the desk.

“You like that, sweetheart? You like my hard cock inside that tight pussy of yours?” he asked out of breath. You nodded your head, unable to make any coherent words other than grunts and moans. “Then say my name,” he growled.

“Bucky! yesyesyes…oh!Bucky…” You screamed over and over again. Every thrust had you yelling his name until it was the only thing you could say. Your legs started shaking. He could feel you squeeze him hard, and he knew he wouldn’t last much longer.

“Give it to me baby. Come all over my cock.” And with his words, you screamed out the pleasure that he built up in your body. Bucky grunted as he stilled inside you. “Squeeze me harder, baby.” And somehow you obeyed as incoherent as you were.

When Bucky finished inside you, he pulled out slowly, watching his spent drip down your thighs. “Can you walk baby girl?” he said massaging your shoulders as you stood up slowly. You had a dazed look in your eyes as you shook your head. He picked you up bridal style and carried you down the hall to your bedroom. You giggled and made small love bites on his neck. “Just as well. I’m not finished with you yet.”

⬅️Brut Gold: Chapter 1 | Brut Gold: Chapter 3 (Coming Soon)➡️

A/N: This is part of my 1K Follower Celebration and also part of @the-slumberparty April Challenge: Mob AU.

🏷️ @emarich7 @coldnique @vickie5446 @psychospore @mukagentropy @lokisgoodgirl @silverfire475 @fictive-sl0th @springdandelixn @wheredafandomat @goldencherriess @peaches1958 @salempoe @thomase1 @kkdvkyya @a-witch-with-words @mischief2sarawr @sarawr-reads @vbecker10 @peachymallows @irishhappinesss @cakesandtom @simplyholl @here4thefanfics @tallseaweed @gigglingtigger @immersed-in-mischief @joyful-enchantress @lovelysizzlingbluebird @lokisninerealms @kikster606 @glitterylokislut @loz-3 @slytherclaw1227 @chantsdemarins @the-lady-amphitrite @eleniblue @km-ffluv @lokidokieokie @n3rdybirdee @splendidreads

224 notes · View notes