#my mom always gets upset why i cut it shorter

[schrijverr]

Okay, straight Eddie Diaz, because - hear me out - trans woman Eddie Diaz.

Like it makes perfect sense in canon due to the fact that Eddie is repressed as hell, it can be about just sexuality, but I think adding in gender really adds to it. She does truly dream of having that traditional marriage with someone, she has just been casting herself in the wrong role, which makes it all the harder to figure out, because she is so sure that's what she wants, but it always feels wrong anyway.

It turns out, all the women she has dated felt wrong, because she wanted to be them not be with them. Plus, they never measured up as a parental figure, as a mother figure specifically, because Eddie wasn't comparing to what can be expected of an early stages potential step parent. Instead, she was comparing them to what she, Eddie, provides for Chris, and they could never be as good as a mom as her (but she didn't realize this).

((Also, Buck - bc yes, I am making this a little buddie - was able to fit into that step parent role, bc Eddie wasn't comparing him to herself, but let him organically grow into the role. Something Eddie doesn't realize until she unpacked a lot of stuff and realized her feelings for him aren't the platonic kind. She also realizes why she was so fuckign jealous of all his girlfriends, but always less bothered by his boyfriends.))

I feel like she'd be more masc (give me butch trans woman Eddie, please, fan artist out there, I'm on my little knees) and she struggles a lot with wanting to be a woman, but having 'masculine' interest and thus feeling like she can't be. Seeing Hen was both great for her and the cause of much confusion, bc she wanted what Hen had so bad, but also not entirely, because she isn't a lesbian and she had no clue what that meant when she first started working with the 118.

She has a hyper-masculine phase (mustache Eddie, why xp), really leaning into 'being a man' to run away from the feelings, because that is a mood. This isn't a great time for Eddie, because she does still like her masculine hobbies, as mentioned above, so it's confusing and she semi-gaslights herself into thinking she is imagining it. Until one day she shaves and is like, huh, I forgot how much I liked the clean shaven look and suddenly that triggers a whole set of revelations.

She keeps the short hair, but changes the shaping off it slightly so it softens her face more. She also is a jeans girly through and through, though comfy leggings definitely start making their way into the rotation after Maddie introduced her to them. Eddie does change the cut of her jeans slightly to be less tight at the crotch area, but she does like jeans that emphasize her butt, bc she has a great ass and that makes her feel good about herself. Overall, she isn't big on skirts, but wears dresses when there is an occasion.

Also, she has height dysphoria, which also upsets her, because all the heels look fun, she doesn't care that Hen claims they're the devil's shoes. ((Buck being taller makes Eddie so euphoric, before she realizes what is making her dysphoric exactly, she'd continuously be in his space, because he makes her feel a little shorter. When on dates, she sometimes can pull out heels and Buck will wear thicker soles so she can, sliding an arm around her waist and tucking her into his side so the dysphoria won't creep back in)).

She doesn't tell her parents at first, but she does tell her sisters, who are thrilled to have an all girls sibling squad now. They give her some of the heirloom jewelry they got, which Eddie missed out on, because she was still an egg at the time. She totally doesn't cry... Maybe a little.

Eddie is not a make up girl, however. She really tried to get into it, especially to cover the five-o'clock shadow, but it always looked weird and it isn't practical with her job. When they have a party, she'll put on some mascara and try with contour to add a little different shaping to her jaw and cheeks, but she never gets into it as much as she thought she would. She does not say no to getting manny paddies with Athena and May from time to time. Having nice nails is a great source of gender euphoria.

It was a little hard on Chris for Eddie to be mom too and Eddie had a whole crisis about what if this is repeating Kim, but in a different font and I am actually trying to replace Shannon? She has a lot of solo therapy and the two go to family therapy. Chris is never a dick about it, just a kid working through his trauma (don't be mean). When they have worked through it, Chris is her number one hype man, even though he's an awkward teen about it. His stumbling compliments are always her favorite and she carries them with her in her heart.

Anyway, just straight trans woman Eddie <3

[symphonic-scream]

Post

Uhm. Another P5 characters with P4 plot au. This one with Makoto-Goro siblings

I'm off my ADHD meds for a little bit so my mind is running wild again so here's another au.

The wildcard is Akira/Joker here. He's staying with Sojiro and Futaba while his family is on a world traveling cruise for a year.

Star is Morgana. He's, more like P5 Morgana. A cat.

Magician? Futaba! She's basically Inaba's only tech support, and takes a lot of crap for being so "obsessed" with something that's "ruining the youth"

Chariot Ann for this one. She plays volleyball, moved to Inaba the year before, has a girlfriend back in Tokyo. She's hoping to get to see her at tournaments.

Priestess Yusuke! His mom, Sayuri, runs the Inaba Gallery, which holds cultural art and pieces about the town's history. He has been spending more time running tours since her illness has spiked. (Transmasc Yusuke)

Emperor Ryuji! He's misunderstood. Wants to protect his Ma, but everyone just sees the violence they saw in his dad. He's also coming to terms with being bi

Lovers Haru. She's a celebrity chef, taking a year off from being a baking show host after a ton of threatening letters, and a break in while she was away from home. So she's staying with her Uncle Munehisa Iwai and cousin Kaoru, helping out at their airsoft and hunting shop

And. Fortune Makoto. But gimme a sec to explain that one

Instead of one detective Prince? This au has TWO!! The Detective Princes, the Akechi twins; Goro Akechi, the charmer, runs a sweets blog, the Hunger Arcana. And Makoto Akechi, the silent broodier twin, the lonelier brother, the Fortune Arcana

Now let's talk specifics. Makoto is AFAB, female at birth. After their parents up and left, Makoto started pretending to be Goro's brother to be "safer". Then, it felt good. But, not quite right. (Non-binary Makoto.) They haven't thought about it since they started binding and taking T, at 15. There's other issues at play

Makoto doesn't know who they are anymore. All anyone sees of them is Goro's twin, the little brother, the shadow to the much more beloved Prince. They swallow down anxiety pills each morning, trying to erase the shake they feel in front of the camera. It doesn't ease the sting of their brother's harsh words

Goro wears his outfit from canon. Makoto has a similar coat, but instead of tan it's dark blue. Black pants, black boots to his black dress shoes. No headband. Less bangs. They keep their hair shorter than Goro's. To help pretend to be his brother. It's choppy, a little wild, and when it's wet from the rain it sticks up all over. They have a custom Breton style cap (it's like a police cap), it's dark blue, black, has a bright blue fist on the part where a badge would go.

They start to split more and more as the story goes on. It really strikes when Makoto starts at Yasogami, and Goro continues on playing the adult. After Makoto is saved from the TV, they move out of their apartment, living in the spare room in the Kitagawa home

Anyways that's the outline under the cut will be extra stuff I've come up with

Makoto, post being rescued, lying out by the Samegawa riverside, late at night, hat beside them just. Watching the stars

Haru lies beside them. Doesn't say a word. But, she takes their hand

Makoto: ...do you think I'm doing any good with the group?

Haru: of course you are, why would you ask that?

Makoto: ...

Haru: oh, your fight with Ryuji.

Makoto: it, did he say it was a fight?

Haru: he seemed upset like it was one. What happened?

Makoto: ...he asked me out. But, I don't know, it didn't feel right. I can't tell what he thinks I am, *who* he thinks I am. But, I know it's not who I want to be

Haru: he doesn't think of you as a girl. None of us do

Makoto: but he sees me as a guy.

Haru: ...and that's not you? You're neither?

Makoto: I'm, that's an option?

Haru: oh, you isolated little baby queer

Makoto: wha

Haru taps at their bound chest a little: you like this, right? The binding?

Makoto: yeah. I always have, it's why I started the hormones. But,

Haru: are you worried they'll turn you into someone you're not?

Makoto: it's silly, cause, I like what I've gotten. But,

Haru: but it's enough?

Makoto: it's enough,

Haru: hey, did I tell you I like girls?

Makoto: no?

Haru: mm. Cause I like girls. But I also like, non-men. And some men, selectively.

Makoto: oh? So, you know about this stuff?

Haru: I do. So does Akira, and Yusuke, and even Ann. So, we could talk to Ryuji over time, get him to understand some stuff, if you were interested in trying with him. We could do so regardless

Makoto: ...he's not, my type. I, I think I also like non-men. Women too.

Haru: hm, fancy that

Haru, flirting

Makoto, densest motherfucker in Inaba

Haru: how about this? I can start using neutral terms with you, see how you feel? Maybe ask Yusuke and his Mom to do the same?

Makoto: that, sounds nice. I'm, going to talk to my doctor. Lower my, T. A little bit.

Makoto at school, quiet and pensive, in the male uniform with their cap, hands in pockets, just standing by the stairs, looking at their boots

And Haru slides over, hand to their wrist, smiling all pretty, and Makoto softly smiles back

Their whole class thinks they're dating lmao. The whole school thinks so

Ryuji: ...ah, so I wasn't his type to begin with. EFF,

Yusuke: hm? Oh, Makoto-senpai wishes to be referred to with gender-neutral terms. You weren't *their* type to begin with

Ryuji:

Ann: YOU KILLED HIM LMAOOO

Akira: rip Ryuji

A little skip. To them being in Relationship together

Makoto lying back on Haru's bed, knees off the edge, coat thrown off, black turtleneck riding up just enough to hint at abs. Haru sits on their lap, work apron tossed aside, the dark button-up having a few buttons undone at the bottom, a few at the top. She's holding one of Makoto's hands to her thigh, just under where her skirt rests, the other is on their stomach. Makoto's remaining hand is buried in bright curls, and they're panting, Haru giggling as she sprinkles kisses to their jaw

"Your, your uncle- when will he,"

"We still have a little time, don't worry. I woudlnt put you in a situation where he'd try to kill you."

Makoto's mind is spinning so fast. Only thought being "Haru". Haru is having fun turning her stiff little detective into affectionate mush

And, when her uncle does come home,

Munehisa: hey, you didnt tell me you had a boy over

Haru: uncle, this is Makoto! ***They're*** helping me study for exams!

Munehisa: ...uh, okay? Just. No funny business with my niece, okay?

Makoto: Y-YES SIR

So. Yeah

[chidoroki]

182 Days of TPN - Day 37

Chapter 37: “Escape”

I originally only wanted to point out yet another Ray head pat, but then I noticed the adorable scene with the kids is the exact hallway we see burning up. Yes it took me this long to make that connection. Hush.

Leslie!! You sweet boy, do not play with butterflies! They're a bad omen in this series! But oh you’re so lucky to have a literal angel descend upon you like that. Pfftt okay that may be pushing it; I know Isabella has done some pretty horrible stuff, but that’s all in the future! Right now she’s a totally innocent and adorable kid!

I love Isabella with all my heart and soul (as if that wasn’t obvious enough) but I still believe they should’ve gave Leslie the credit he deserves for his song rather than have everything be named and referred to “Isabella’s Lullaby,” especially the mandolin version from the first season ost! They could’ve easily named that after him instead! Yeah the significance it holds in regards to her and Ray’s relationship is huge, but at the end of the day it’s still Leslie’s original melody.

Let me get it all out of the way and just say the anime handled Isabella’s entire flashback so much better. It has an unfair advantage since we can actually hear the song, but also because her emotions during Leslie’s shipment make way more sense. The boy she loves is leaving the house forever so naturally she would be upset! Why the manga has her waving and smiling as she says goodbye instead is something I’ll never understand. But hey, that panel helps show that the mandolin wasn’t a totally random addition to the anime when they decided to have Leslie use one in the previous scene rather than sing as he did in manga.

I know Isabella had Ray at 19 (or 20 actually..? it might be that, whatever) and whether she was that age or not when she was finally granted a mom position, I’m in awe that she looks as just as beautiful as she did back then as she does when the series starts. It’s like she didn’t age at all.

I know people will always call her a bad mom because of how she walked the kids to their death and sorta used them for her own survival, but then that logic applies to all the moms & sisters of the story as well since it’s basically in their job description. Despite all the women having the same goal, Isabella strives for perfection for the children’s sake as well. Pardon me for quoting myself in order to save me some time (y’all will see this a week later but currently writing this post out while I wait for my copy of TotK to arrive.. happy release day!):

“She provided her children with a normal lifestyle, not only to keep up the orphanage facade, but knowing that their lives would all be cut shorter than they anticipate. She gave them love in hopes that no one would ever have to feel the dread she felt after Leslie’s death and/or finding out the truth. She tried to delay that horrific fate by encouraging them to learn all they can (like teaching the trio about strategy and chess) so they could achieve higher tests scores and (unknowingly to them) add a couple more months or years onto their lives. Yes it was her job to raise these children to such high standards but she excelled at it for their sake too.”

Of course the glaring difference between Ray retelling the deal flashback and Isabella remembering it is their own emotions. In all of Ray’s flashbacks up to this point, Isabella was cold, threatening and beyond confident, but when we see it from her perspective, she is completely terrified (if only briefly) as she find out Ray is her son moments before he offers the deal to her.

“All those years spent perfecting a fake smile and emotionless exterior like she was trained to have and her son shatters it in an instant... That one moment of weakness speaks volumes to me.” -me, once again being lazy.

The fact the anime had a handful of opportunities to animate this moment from Ray’s perspective and chose to show us Isabella’s memory instead.. aahh, it’s a good move. Granted, Ray never delve into his mother-son relationship whenever he mentioned it previously, so saving that critical information for Isabella’s flashback made the reveal hit so much harder.

Isabella’s desire to survive is a valid reason to accept the mom position, but doing so out of pure spite against the demons so they couldn’t have her as their next meal is incredible and just fits her personality so well in my eyes. Of course the big downside to all that is leading other children to their own demise, but in no way was she ever ecstatic about it. While I think no death made her as distraught as Leslie’s did, she loved all the kids she raised and I have no doubt sending them all off to their own shipments was still extremely hard for her. As we saw in ep1, Isabella was humming Leslie’s song while walking Conny down to the gate and as we learned in this chapter, our lovely lady sings that song to stay strong.

Can I please hug whomever it was on the anime staff that had the brilliant idea to have Isabella let her hair down because DAMN she is so GORGEOUS!!

The anime is superior in so many ways for this scene. Not only because of how beautiful Isabella is right here (though it is a real big reason for me), but with everything else previously mentioned too. I swear I’ll never get over this though.. oh what I wouldn’t give to see Demizu draw this woman like this just once.

Go ahead and catch me sobbing over all of this!!

Simply amazing how she somehow concluded that Phil was in on the whole plan as well. But look at her, openly caring for the children without even worrying about her caretaker status anymore. Seems no different from before, huh? That’s because she’s always cared! If ya listen closely you can hear the broken chidoroki record saying “best mom” on repeat. And I certainly can’t forget to mention the comforting head pat as well. Aahh, no wonder your son does this so much to the other kids too.

Okay well, hate to burst your bubble here sweetie, but just because you won’t personally see the shipments, doesn’t mean they’ll all stop completely. I assure you they’re still happening in the other plantations, even with Isabella reducing the frequency of them once she becomes Grandma. And the whole idea of not watching others die.. ohhh, I wish I could be hopeful for you about that but unfortunately y’all are still gonna witness some hard loses and countless close calls soon enough.

I truly am so proud that the fifteen of them managed to escape that harsh reality they were forced into. And as much as I don’t wanna mention the anime anymore after this because of that unspeakable second season, it’ll probably still happen. I enjoyed all the comparisons so far since both medias just had relatively small changes here and there, but with the second season however.. yeah there’s gonna be a ton of complaints. (I do praise it occasionally, but it’s still a huge upset.)

Favorite panel/moment:

There’s so many I wanna choose from thanks to all the Isabella moments, but I really love this entire page. Seeing her sing Leslie’s song to the children to calm them (& probably herself) down is so sweet. I wish the anime had given us that. They had the main theme playing which includes the song’s melody anyway, so I can’t really complain too much about that. But learning she indirectly helped the escapees by retrieving their ropes so the farm doesn’t know exactly where they escaped from is also wonderful. She really didn’t care about her life anymore once she accepted defeat, which is kinda sad in a way, but still so wholesome that she’s prioritizing everyone’s needs and happiness above her own.

Oh, you know how Isabella sings the song to keep herself strong? Ya ever wonder if Ray’s done so for the same reason? Yeah he used the song to help confirm he was Isabella’s son, but the only other time we hear it from him was right before Emma finds him waiting in the dinning hall. Just imagining him being that scared to finally put his crazy pyro plan into action to end his own life and using the song to try and calm himself down.. ow, my heart.

[eldritch-nightmare]

Hi! Could I get a creepypasta match up please!

I am 5 foot...not very blessed in the height department unfortunately, I'm slim but well endowed in both upper and lower departments. I'm fairly light for being Hispanic (i don't go outside in the sun often) I have shoulder length hair, its currently red and has been red for a hot minute, but in the past it used to be shorter and a different color every other week. Like for two weeks I could have purple hair then BOOM it's yellow now. I have 21 piercings. I have two in the center of my eyebrows, two nostril piercings. One on each side, a septum. And snake bites. I used to have My bridge pierced but I took it out bc it was in the process of migrating:/m I have 26 tattoos. IT SOUNDS LIKE A LOT. But it's not..THAT many when you actually get a good look at my full body. Most of them are on my thighs, I have some on my back, I have chest tattoos and a wrist tattoo. All my tattoos are either witchy, satanic, or of pretty pin up women and fruit.

Personality wise. I'm not sure, I have adhd, autism and bpd. I can be loud and excitable but also REALLY quite, aloof and awkward. I am a very passionate person and I'm always doing something (or at least trying to) I love to learn new things, I love to talk, I love to listen but I also love to just sit in absolute silence sometimes. I hate the sound of people sneezing, idk why it just REALLY upsets me. I can be really nice and helpful but I don't like being taken advantage of. I don't like confrontation but I will stand up for myself and or my friends if it's truly necessary. I am very giving, if someone I care about was in need I wouldn't mind giving them the shirt off my back or the shoes I'm wearing...it's happened before too. I also love shopping. I may have a slight....shopping addiction. I also have a very strong sense of justice and respect, so you won't catch me doing anyone dirty, but I won't let anyone do me dirty and ill cut them off if they keep crossing the line. I'm very good at sniffing out snakes. And I try to warn people around me about fake people and they never believe me until shit hits the fan, and then they sit there like ":0 I didn't know" TF YOU MEAN YOU DIDNT KNOW I TOLD YOU!?

I have daddy issues and don't have a stable father figure in my life 🧍🏻‍♂️ I love my mom though, shes cool

Style wise. I'm a bit all over the place, I've been in the alternate community since I was born. My dad was a metal head soo it kind of passed. But not really. Mental only stuck for so long. I tried scene, not my personal style but I loved the music. I was in the emo scene for a good couple of years until i started to hang out with the punk kids in my highscool, they were a little to much for me, activity wise though so it didn't last to long. But I found my home in the goth subculture and then from that point on, I explored the subcultures within that subculture. I tried nu goth, pastel goth, gothic lolita, trad goth. And none of them felt right, until I found gothabilly. And I find myself most comfortable in thag vintage style and the pin up style. My favorite brand (just so you can get an idea) is vixen by micheline pitt. My closet is just PURE black. With hints of black and white stripes and red.

I have many hobbies. I used to do tattoos on myself and my friends. I tried to get into piercing....it was a little too scary for me. I know how to make jewelry, I know how to paint, and draw. I know how to write, I love reading. I get too far down weird and obscure rabbit holes. I'm learning how to sew and I love it. I have a huge passion for fashion. And I want to start My brand one day. Even if it's small and for a niche group. I love to game, I love horror games especially, Outast is one of my favorite game series. I love horror period. Horror stories, movies, books. I love collecting specimens, like pinned bugs or mice in Jars. I have a small jar of bones. I love the dead. My favorite horror movie is either Saw or Scream. I also love watching indie disturbing horror movies as well. I'm a practicing witch, and I often use pendulums to communicate with. There was an old ghost of a woman who used to live in my apartment. She was cool sometimes but she messed with the doors and lights to much. I also used to collect dolls, specifically monster high dolls, but I wanted to branch out to haunted dolls...but then I thought mayybe that wouldn't be a good idea. I also love to cook and bake, and i love trying new food. I am also learning how to roller skate.

I don't like spiders though, which is ironic because I love spider web design and embroidery on my clothing. They just...look...ugly in. And their faces freak me out. I can't stand bad smells. I have a very very strong sense of taste and smell so I can be pretty sensitive around food and with bad odors. I don't like being woken up when I'm sleeping and I don't like being around loud obnoxious people.

Just for reference, I am afab nonbinary but present feminine to androgynous. I like both dudes and women and other NB people. My favorite creepypastas used to be Eyeless Jack, Bloody Painter, Jason the Toy Maker, the doll maker and the Puppeteer. I mean I liked ALL the pastas but they were my particular favorites

this feels so short in comparison to all that you sent me and i'm deeply sorry for that.

your matchup is... clockwork!

natalie is a very simple person, believe it or not. she's fairly blunt and isn't the type to bullshit a person so you don't have to worry about her taking advantage of you and your kindness. she's also really good at spotting snakes, so honestly you two could be a snake-sniffing duo and point out all the people you should avoid and whatnot.

she's an incredibly honest person as well and the type to never beat around the bush so if she wants to say something, she will say it.

she's a fairly emotionally reserved person so she doesn't wear her heart on her sleeve but when it's just the two of you, she lets her walls down a bit and she allows herself to relax a little.

she's more of a listener than a talker so she'll sit there and listen to you talk for hours. she doesn't mind sitting in silence either, because with you it's rather comfortable. but on the very rare occasion that she's the one doing all the talking, she'll definitely appreciate the fact that you're listening. it makes her feel seen in ways she could never describe.

natalie thinks you look good with any hair color, to be honest. i think in the beginning she was definitely a bit caught off guard by your spontaneous hair color changes but she gets used to it rather easily because it's just another part of you that she's fond of. she is just a bit concerned about your hair potentially getting damaged if you dye it too often but... she's not a hair expert, so. and honestly, she's thought about dying her hair as well, so. maybe you can recommend a color for her!

she also thinks you look wicked cool with your piercings and tattoos by the way. and she would absolutely love to hear about the meanings of your tattoos if any of them have one that you're willing to share with her.

she may not look like it, but natalie is pretty interested in fashion! she doesn't dabble in many styles herself because of various reasons but she is very interested in all of your own styles ranging from any goth and punk clothing you may own to the vintage and pin-up style you currently have going on.

if you asked natalie what her hobbies were she would probably just shrug and say, 'don't have any.' but trust me when i tell you that she does. she is so very much interested in deep diving into obscure topics and going down rabbit holes that she probably shouldn't go down because she loves learning about all the weird things buried underneath, hidden away from the average person.

honestly, you guys could probably make a date night out of deep diving into two separate topics and telling each other about it as you go. seems like it would be a pretty fun thing to do.

natalie doesn't particularly pay much attention to video games but she isn't against playing one or two if you recommend it to her! she's pretty invested in the things that you like, so she'll definitely play anything you recommend.

as for horror movies, natalie also probably doesn't give them much thought but trust me when i say she is a big fan of the saw franchise. i can see it now, you sitting her down to watch the saw movies and her just getting absolutely hooked and totally developing a crush on amanda young because honestly who doesn't. after the saw franchise, she's definitely more interested in horror than she was before and she'll probably sit down in her own time to watch some other movies just to talk about them to you.

always down to have her hair and nails done by you if you want to do them. she'll pay you as well, don't worry, just like... don't ask where she got the money because that would lead to a really awkward conversation probably. and she's also rooting for you to get into college to study fashion design!

so yeah anyways you guys would be a cute couple together and you'd have two cats and a rabbit named pumpkin or something and yeah.

[rory-multifandom-mess]

TOTAL DRAMA OC POSTING NO WAAAY Hello this is Chip he is a dumb little scrungle i came up with because i thought i’d be funny if someone with the name of chip was there when Lindsay called Chris “Chip” and got confused. Info dump on him is under the cut cos I feel like it lmaoo

- Was in Total Drama Island and Total Drama World Tour - Became friends with Cody and Noah (because they need more recognition (especially Cody)), and in extension, Owen  - He was like… the chill one of the two - y’know like that one meme  - Noah = No energy, Cody = Too much energy, Chip = Calm energy  - He’d probably get kicked off the show through a loophole/just because Chris said so (example: DJ in Island and Action [kicked off because he got scared without chef even being there in Island, literally quit in Action because he didn’t wanna lie anymore] - Was the only one actively trying to get Noah to play in a kind manner cos he knew he’d get voted off if they lost - He failed obv - Probably would get kicked off some time after Cody in S1 (probably after Beth) - As I said before, he’d always get confused whenever Lindsay would say “Chip” instead of “Chris” - Heather attempted to get him to join the alliance, but he immediately denied her - Everyone at first pegged him for the athletic type but hey were, in fact, wrong LMAO - In World Tour, he was in Team Amazon along with Cody. They’re the only two guys in the team - He’d get kicked off before Sierra was technically booted - Sierra never really liked him because Cody payed more attention to him than he did her (i think that’s one of the reasons why she didn’t like Gwen ether) - After Gwen got kicked, Sierra’s hate focus was on Chip, which highkey scared him - He was to Cody how Noah was to Owen (telling Cody to get Sierra to go away no matter what cos she was crazy (Noah did the same with Owen and Izzy)) - He never actually sang when it was a big group of them singing. instead he just mouthed the words to convince Chris that he was actually singing - that i think is how he got kicked; Chris found out he’s been pretending and was like “u sly bitch. leave” KSHDKB - Had a good singing voice, but much like Cody, he was shy to sing (obv his singing isn’t NEARLY as good as Cody’s)

(ok enough with just show things, personality stuff time KSJDKBS) - Like I said before, he’s a chill and easygoing guy, easy to get along with - Wasn’t really looking to get into a relationship (understandable considering all the other relationships in the show the only healthy one in S1-S3 was Lindsay + Tyler) - Really wanted to talk to DJ (cos this guy had/has a crush) more but 1. opposite teams and 2. he was simply Shy - Probably talks to DJ outside of the show more and obv hangs out with Cody, Noah, and Owen - Despite Heather and Courtney getting on his nerves often, he’d still treat them with dignity and respect even if it wasn’t given back to him - Would probably lose his mind if he lost his hair tie (luckily LeShawna always helped him out if he did lose it LMAO) - Wasn’t affected by Justin/Alejandro’s “hotness” - Shorter than Noah, but taller than Cody probably (idk their heights give me a break) - Questioning his sexuality tbh. He’s had crushes before but he’s never felt horny™️ which kinda concerns him because he’s 16 where are my primal instincts to Get Bitches wtf (most likely Biromantic Asexual) - The only thing he and Sierra could agree on probably is being upset with Gwen when she Gotted herself with Cody’s epipen in World Tour cos he was worried Cody would go into anaphylactic shock and DIE - knows a surprising amount of medical stuff - Wants to be a doctor - If he had won the million (or however much was on stake during TDWT), he would’ve used it to pay for his college and, if he had any left, help any of his friends pay for theirs as much as he could - Has a little brother (who he’s very protective over) and a cat  - Mom and Dad are divorced, lives with his Mom - probably one of the only first gen cast to not be from Canada (except for Alejandro and Courtney) - He’s from off brand Canada (Michigan (more specifically the lower peninsula) - Sometimes when he’d say “sorry” one of the other contestants who have that slight accent would be like “why tf u say it like that” and he’d be like “-._-. BOI-“ KSHJDBS

is he cringe? maybe. do i love him? yes

[emotionally-eager-assistant]

“I don’t think I remember the last time I saw a family member. When I joined this job the lady in the purple dress had told me that I would have to cut contact with my family, that this job would require distance. I remember asking ‘why?’ because I couldn’t fathom that idea. I thought this was a simple job, it was to run errands.”

[The woman pauses, trying to figure out her words. Carefully picking at one or the other.]

“To be fair, maybe I should have asked why the pay was so high. I joined because it was high pay, it would help my family, and I’ll admit it does help. From the snooping I’ve done, my mom is doing better, and my father retired. They live off the money I make, and I feel happy. They never did have the best life. They could never afford to give me and my brother a good life, but they really tried. I’m happy that they’re happy. That is all I ever wanted. And my brother,

My brother.

I miss him. I think he’d be disappointed in what I’m doing. This job. The pain I’ve caused and the blood I’ve shed. I don’t think he’d be very happy. But a dead man can’t be upset, so I’m not sure why I think so much about it. Why do I get upset at the prospect of him being upset with me?

Maybe because I miss him?

He was the one who taught me morals and who helped me gain a sense of self. He taught me to be kind, and I think this job erased all of that.”

[She stared at the camera quietly, hearing the whirr of its mechanisms. She frowned and ran a hand through her hair.]

“I regret this job. I really do. I wish I could take it all back. All the contracts I’ve given, all the men I’ve sent to get themselves killed. All the people I killed.” [She speaks mournfully, the frown deepening] “I regret it all.

...

I should burn this before Miss Pauling finds it.” [As if on queue she can hear her name being called out, the door to her room opened to reveal a shorter woman with her hair tied up and glasses on her button nose. She bore a purple dress, a belt wrapped snuggly around her waist as she shifted the papers in her arms.]

“Are you recor-” [The video cuts off with a snap.]

—

[Miss Gi stood over the open flame of the camera she had used. When Miss Pauling walked in she panicked, unsure of what to do, she had taken the contracts offered to her and shooed the shorter woman out of her room. Maybe she overreacted, she didn’t need to burn the entire camera did she???]

[Guess it was back to documenting stuff in her notebook.]

[She shifted awkwardly, unsure of what to do now. She felt a creeping nerve at the prospect of recording the video but almost always documented things, and it just happened to be something she wanted to document. She feared the video would be found and lord if it was found she didn’t need to know that she could be terminated. Quite literally.]

[She felt guilty. Guilty about what? The people she's killed? The men she's sent to get themselves killed? She didn't know if she had the right to feel guilty. She was willingly sending them to death. So why was she feeling guilt, now of all times?] "Esto es estúpido." [She hissed, kicking a clump of sand in frustration.]

[chelleztjs18]

Lost in Assistance - Ch. 55

Elizabeth Olsen x Fem!Reader.

Summary: Y/n is a professional celebrity's personal assistant in Hollywood got hired with two years contract to be the assistant of the famous and talented Elizabeth Olsen / Lizzie by her manager. Both Y/n and Lizzie hate each other since day one, and they have mutual friend. One is as stubborn as the other, will Y/n stay when Lizzie gives attitudes and tries her best to make her quit before the contract ends?

Warning: fluff, angst, smut (in future chapters), swearing words ( +18 only) Character's death.

TW: Suicidal thoughts.

I do not own any pictures, name, brand, song titles or anything that I used in this story.

All chapters

A/N: Hi lovely people. Please read this note before you start reading the chapter. It took a long time for me to write this chapter even though this is shorter that usual because it was the hardest chapter for me to write. I had to stop a few times while writing it, I also cried writing this. To be honest, writing this chapter was like re-opening an old wound that never actually heal for 8 years. Everything I wrote was based on my personal experience, except my mom passed away because of other illness, and when I came to see her, she was already gone. What y/n says to her mom right before she goes, I actually said that to my mom through a video call (I was in the U.S, she was in Indonesia). Everything I wrote about y/n's feeling and thought was exactly how I felt at that time, so I apologize if it doesn't make sense or even if it's a little dark.  I'm sorry for the chapter, I had to. I didn't proof read or recheck this chapter because it's hard for me. I apologize in advance for any errors. Sorry for the long a/n.

“Okay. and cut! Great job guys! Let’s have a quick break now and I’ll see you guys again.” said the director and everybody is spreading out to get their back. Lizzie looks for you right away to your “spot” where you always wait for her while she is filming but to her surprise she doesn’t find you. At first, a tiny thought thinks it’s a little weird that you weren’t there but then she thought that you might go to the restroom or to the trailer. She searched for you to the two possible places to find you but she couldn’t find you at either the restroom or her trailer. She then tries to call you but it goes straight to your voicemail.

“Babe, where are you? I’m on a quick break now and I couldn’t find you anywhere. Can you meet me at the set where you always sit or call me.” She left a voicemail.

She waits for you but you never show up nor call her back. She starts to get anxious and upset that she didn’t notice the text notification from you that you left before you left for the airport. She tries to call you again and again. She starts to feel upset and wonders angrily where the hell you are and why you don't call back or if you need to go somewhere. Why didn’t you wait at least until she is on break but she is also worried about you.

As she walks around in one circle trying to get a hold of you, Scarlet comes to her. “Liz, I have been looking for you. Where have you been?” She asks. “Oh hey, Scar. I have been looking around for y/n. I start to get worried and also upset. Her phone goes straight to voicemail.” The blonde explains to her castmates.

“Oh yeah, about that. That’s why I have been looking for you. Y/n asked me to tell you, she was in a rush to catch her flight because she got a call from Mama Leah’s doctor. She also said she would leave a text for you to let you know. She looked so worried so I don’t think it was a good news call.” Scarlet explains with a concerned look.

“I’m an idiot. I just checked the text. Okay, thank you, Scar.” She said, as soon as she checked her text. “No, problem. I hope Mama Leah is okay, y/n too. Let me know if you hear anything from her, Liz.” Scarlet lays her hand on her shoulder, then walks away.

“Yeah, I will.” Lizzie answered. There’s nothing she can do right now except go on with her day with a sad heavy heart, wishing that your mom is okay and trying to make things work for her to be able to fly back to LA to be with you. Her eyes instantly got teary from the worried thought and image of Mama Leah.

Meanwhile thousands of miles up in the air, you sit anxiously. The five and half hours of flight feels like an eternity for you. Every second you pray and wish to any God that exists for it’s not too late for you to come home to see her again. You are fighting your logical thought that she wouldn’t make it. You wish that Lizzie is next to you with you through all this. Your hands are cold, you are biting your nails. You keep fixing your sit position to find a comfortable position but it seems not to exist. Your feet keep fidgeting up and down fastly. You apologize to the passenger next to you for you being restless and luckily she understands after you explain your reason.

_____

You finally arrived at the facility. You walk as fast as you can to your mom’s room only to find your mom lies down so weak, she looks empty, with no soul. She turns her head so slowly, her weak brown eyes looking at you trying their best to light up as if they are trying to say that she is okay and you don’t have to worry about her.

“Ma, I’m here. I’m here with you. Don’t worry, you are going to be okay.” You bend down to hug her. Your heart is in so much pain seeing her like this. You sit next to her bed, holding her hand. Pressing her left palm to your right cheek as you hold your hand. You try to disguise your worries and fear of losing her from her.

The doctor comes by, calling you aside to tell you there is nothing they can do anymore and she might not make it tonight. You thank the doctor and sit next to your mom again.

At this moment, all you hear is just the beeping from the machines that helps buy her more time to stay longer. “Y/n, dear?” You finally hear her weak voice. “Yes, Ma. I’m here. Do you need anything?” Your voice breaks, trying to hold back the sadness you feel as you answer her. “I just want to say I’m so happy you have found the right one for you. You have Lizzie now, I don’t have to be worried about you anymore if my time comes.” Your mom tells you with every bit of her strength left.

“Ma, please don’t say that. You will be okay.” Pain gripped your chest. “I know, I’m okay. I’ll be okay soon when I see your dad again.” She smiles weakly. You are speechless, you don’t know what else to tell your mom. It’s hard, it’s really hard to say anything to her when you know the truth, when you know that you are just counting maybe hours left with her. “Promise me, y/n. To love her, protect her and give the best to her because I know she will do the same.” She added.

“I will, Ma. I promise.” You promised her with a very low voice. “Y/n, I’m tired. I tried to stay as long as I could for you, dear but remember, don’t hold me back with all the machines if it’s my time. I love you.” Her breath starts to get heavier.

“I love you too, Ma. It’s okay, Ma. If you are tired, if you want to go, I understand. You can go. Don’t force yourself to stay. I’ll be okay.” You said things that are totally opposite from what your heart wants. You know it’s not the right thing to say but you know your mom, you know she wants to hear that so she “go” in peace without being worried about you. And you were right, as soon as you finished your sentence, your lips weren’t even closed yet after saying those words, the beeping sound from her heart monitor turns into one long beep sound. The sound that says it all, that your mom has taken her last breath.

An alarm rang in your mind. “No.No.No.No.Ma, wake up! Nurse! Doctor! Somebody help!” You gently shake your mom hoping she only fell asleep and will open her eyes again when you wake her up then you call whoever can help. Your chest tightened with fear. Worry snaked through you.

The medical team with the doctor came. They quickly do everything they can to take care of your mom, try to resuscitate her. Seeing them act as fast as they can with their serious and worried face expression, while hearing all the medical term that are mentioned by them surrounded with the sounds of the medical equipment especially the flatline beep sound that stand out among other sounds, everything mixed and happen at the same time make you feel that the world is spinning, everything is spinning, pulling you down, ripping every single of your limbs off at the same time. You are barely able to breathe.

Then you hear the doctor say a line, a terrifying line. “Call it. Time of death 7.22 P.M”. Your heart is in your throat. He comes to you with a very sad face. “I’m so sorry y/n, we did our best but she couldn’t make it. My deepest condolences.” He told you the worst news you could ever imagine. You bit back a scream. The pit of your stomach fell. You crumbled inside, your body felt leaden. You could hardly move and felt numb all over.

All you can do right now is just standing where you are at, and as soon as the medic team moves away from your mom’s bed to give you some time after they turn off all the machines, you can see your mom laying there on the bed, lifeless. You bite the inside of your cheeks, clench your jaw and your fists.

You shift your weight in every single of your steps. Every step feels so heavy and hard as if you forgot how to walk, you even forgot how to move. As soon as you stand next to your mom’s bed, your breath hitches. Your breath is shaky and stuttering, it hurts you so bad in every breath you take as if it’s an enormous and powerful magnet that pulls every single knife that ever made flying straight to your whole body, stabs every inch of your body in repeat.

Your heart wants to sob and scream at the same time, but your eyes can’t and that hurts a lot more than you could ever imagine. The indescribable pain you feel that your heart try to vent out forcing your tear glands to slowly and painfully overfill your eyes. You close your eyes in one blink and the tears roll down. You swallow hard. You gather yourself to uncover your mom’s face. Your gaze goes down to your mom’s chest and flick to her stomach wishing that either of them moves up and down as if she is still breathing but she is not. She is gone. “Please come back, Ma. Please take me with you.” You whisper under your breath as you cry in silence but you get no answer, the answer you really hope you will hear if you stay longer with her.

You give her a hug one more time, then kiss her on her forehead. You take a seat next to her. After a little over an hour, you finally talk to the staff that you need to go home for sometime and will come back to do whatever you need to do. They agreed.

You decide to take a taxi to go home. On the way, you saw there were missed calls from Lizzie from around two hours ago, you just realized your phone is on silent and she probably called when IT happened, then you tried to call Lizzie, but it went straight to voicemail, thinking she is probably still filming. You didn’t know that coming home to your own house would be this. Vivid images of your mom doing her things in the house, or the moment you spent with her, and with Lizzie parading across your mind. Her voice echoing in your mind.

You walk around the house without turning on any lights inside the house. You walk straight to her room, it still smells like her. You didn’t turn on the light in the room either, the only light that lights up the room is the light from outside and the moonlight not much but enough for you to look around. You run your hands on her side of the bed that she always lays. You open her dresser just to quickly see her clothes. You find a container full of your mom’s pain killer pills and you grab it.

You close all the curtains, make the room almost pitch black, you fall on your knees as soon as you reach in front of the end of her bed. Your breath feels so heavy. You fold your legs, pull your knees all the way to your chest, curl up with your back lean on her bed. You hug your own folded legs. You miss her already.

The walls of the room seem to move slowly closer and closer as if it’s trying to squeeze you to death. You feel everything move in slow motion in your world that stops all of a sudden. Everything sounds like you are in a soundproof room, all noise turns to muffled sounds that slowly deafen you. You lost all your senses. You feel that you are lost. You don’t know how to function. You feel like you're drowning, drowning in a quicksand of pain that slowly eats you alive. You are not even sure if you are still alive. You feel like you are dead inside. You have lost your reason to live. You wished that you died before your mom so you don’t have to deal with all of this pain and loss.

It would be a lie to say that you don’t feel tiny anger in you at your mom for leaving you but you try hard not to feel that way. You are mad to feel angry at her. You know you are not supposed to be angry at her. and then here comes the guilt. You feel guilty for letting her go through all this by herself, not spending enough time with her. Your mind starts to think of crazy things. You wished you had an accident on the way home from the facility. You wish you had a heart attack right now. You wish a murderer broke into your house and find you. You wish you were dead by now just so you don’t have to go through all this.

You try to call Lizzie again, you need her the most right now but once again it went straight to voicemail.

You text her. “My mom. She is gone. I need you so badly, please love.” Almost an hour after you text her, still no answer from her. You start to feel alone, sitting alone in silence, without your mom, with no Lizzie. You then grab your mom’s painkiller pills.

Meanwhile in New York a few hours ago. Lizzie couldn’t wait for the filming to be done. As soon as she was done filming, she tried to call you, this time your phone rang but you didn’t pick up. She tried to call you again, and still no answer from you. She then called the facility to find out what was going on only to find out that your mom had passed away. Her reaction was totally opposite from you. She was more emotional, she sobbed her sadness and grief out. With Scarlet’s help, she booked the earliest flight home she could find. Just like yours, her mind can’t think clearly either. All she can think about right now is to get to you as soon as she can to be with you getting through all this.

She is on her flight right now. Her heart wrenched thinking about how hard it was for you to fly back by yourself, worried and not knowing what’s going on with your mom. Her spirits fell. She couldn’t hold her tears back during the whole flight.

As soon as she landed, she tried to call you and she couldn't get a hold of you. Another no answer from you. She called the facility, hoping she could find out if you were still at the facility, and the staff told her you went home. She went to your house.

She could see from the outside that your house is dark inside. She starts to get more and more anxious. When she tried to unlock the door with her key, the door was already unlocked. She thought you might have forgotten to lock it. “Babe? I’m home.” She looked around and tried to turn on some lights. She went straight upstairs, thinking you were in your room.

“Y/n, sweetie? Are you there?” She couldn’t find you in your room. Her stomach churned. She got worried sick about you. She walked downstairs, tried to call you and she heard a vibration sound of your phone inside your purse on the kitchen counter. She feels a bit relieved that you are at least at home. Her steps quickened towards your mom’s room. She opens the door and finds you sitting in the dark, looking at your mom’s pills.

You raise your head, looking at her. “Liz?” Her heart broke seeing you in this state “Y/n, oh honey.” She quickly comes to you, kneels in front of you and hugs you as tight as she can. So do you. You hug her, your face is in the crook of her neck, and the feelings of her hug, her smells, her warm presence instantly make you sob. Crying your life out in her hug. “Liz, my mom. My mom. She is--she is--gone.” You stutter and cry so hard in silence. She feels your body shaking. “I know sweetheart. I know. I’m sorry. I’m. SO. SO. sorry.” She answers as she cries together with you. Sorrow closed up your throat. Her throat thickened with sobs.

Her right hand strokes your hair, her left hand rubbing your back. “She’s gone. I have nobody. It hurts, Liz. It hurts so much. I can’t stand it. I don’t know what to do. I’m scared. I--I--don’t want to live anymore.” You ramble in your sob.

“No,no. Please don’t say that. I’m here baby. You are not alone. You have me, okay? We will get through this together. Please don’t give up on life.” She shakes her head in the hug, shocked with what you said about not wanting to live anymore.

She pulls away from the hug, trying to look at you, into your eye. “Look at me baby, please look at me.” She tries to wipe the tears as she waits for you to look at her eyes. You look at her eyes. “I know, it’s very hard for you, it’s painful and scary. It’s okay to grieve but I’m here with you, we will grieve together in your way, okay? You are not alone, I will never leave you. So please please don’t ever think about not wanting to live anymore ever again. It hurts me hearing you saying that. I don’t want to lose. Please y/n.” Her eyes look into your eyes begging you. You nod slowly. She hugs you back. Sadness crushed her and grief shattered you. Despair dragged you down and you feel empty inside. Sorrow shredded you inside.

The warm supportive hug you got from her, and the love you feel from her slowly calm you down. The pain is still there but at least it’s bearable for you at this moment. You put down the container that is full of the pills.

“Do you want us to stay here? Or do you want us to go to your room?” She patiently asks you. “Can we stay here a little longer? And can you stay next to me in silence, with me. Please love? I need you here.” You beg her.

“Of course, sweetheart. Like I said, I’m not going anywhere, we’ll get through this together.” She let go of the hug and sat next to you with her back leaning on the bed, she entwined her hand with yours.

Ch. 56

A/n: That's it for today's chapter folks. I wanted to write more in this chapter, but I was already emotionally drained writing this. Let me know what you think. As usual reblogs, comments, likes and feedbacks are always appreciated. Follow me for more. To all new readers I see, go check out my other book if you haven't! I hope you enjoy it as much as you enjoy this series. See you in next chapter/one shot! Thank you.

Cheerio!

Chellez TjS.

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[tennessoui]

hi all of your aus are amazing! pls what happens with divorced!obiwan and the twins?

hey!! sorry this took so long i had to think of an appropriate cliffhanger

this is a continuation of this ficlet and this ficlet, where divorced!obi-wan accidentally acquires a partner and a set of twins.

(2k WHOOPS)

The twins are not, and probably have never been described by anyone except their father, angels. They take to Obi-Wan as well as Obi-Wan takes to them, which is to say that all three of them watch each other suspiciously until one day Luke launches himself off the top of the fridge--how the fuck did he manage to get up there--and Obi-Wan drops his morning toast in a frantic bid to catch him.

After that, Leia and Luke apparently decide he is Another Anakin Who Is Just Around A Lot Less But Is Better At Reading Bedtime Stories and deign to treat him as such.

Obi-Wan decides that he’s going to have a heart attack by the age of fifty. Do all children see a childproof house as a challenge?

It somehow takes both a longer and shorter time to win over Anakin’s favor, mostly because Obi-Wan isn’t sure what the man’s thinking at any given moment. He seems to blow hot and cold depending on how he woke up or how the work day goes. Some days, Obi-Wan comes home from campus and Anakin and the twins have waited to eat until he’s there. Sometimes they’ve eaten and there’s a meal under foil on the stove just for Obi-Wan.

(“I don’t know how you do it,” Obi-Wan tells him one night after the children are put to bed. “I mean, work from home with your job, mind the children, and cook?”

“They made me head of the R&D department a few months ago,” Anakin admits, taking a sip of his second glass of wine. “So I’m doing a lot more checking through other people’s work instead of making my own. It just means I can do that and make something edible--no, really, you just can’t cook, Obi-Wan, I’m not the best either.”

“Do you miss getting to make something other than food?” Obi-Wan asks eventually, giving himself enough time to recover from the sound of the other’s giggles.

Anakin shrugs languidly. “It’s better salary, and I’m the youngest ever in the company to have the position. Means I’ll pay off my student loans quicker, same with my mom’s hospital bills. Doesn’t matter what I want.”

Obi-Wan’s chest hurts and he wants to lean across the gap between their chairs and place his hand on Anakin’s arm, but they don’t know each other like that. It’s only been a month and a half since they moved in. Still. “It always matters what you want,” he insists. “And I think you’re amazing.”

Anakin blushes bright scarlet and takes a huge gulp of wine, and Obi-Wan wonders if this is a throwing-yourself-off-the-fridge break through.)

(It’s not because the next day, Anakin doesn’t say a single word to him, which bothers him more than he’d like to admit.)

(“Am I in the wrong for wanting to get along with my housemate?” Obi-Wan asks Quinlan despairingly during their office hours that he should be using to grade papers. Instead all he can think about is Anakin Skywalker and the goddamn cold shoulder he’s been getting from the man for the past three days.

“Yeah,” Quin says absentmindedly, marking something with a red pen before looking up at Obi-Wan’s outraged intake of breath. “I mean, no. I mean, sorry, Obi, what are we even talking about now? Is it still your hot new roommate with the two kids? Because that’s what we were talking about an hour and a half ago.”

Obi-Wan crosses his arms and leans back in his chair. “I’m just not sure I appreciate--”

“And you said he’s not been hanging around in the living room when you get home? But he’s still leaving you meals in the kitchen? And you’re upset about the free food?”

Obi-Wan is upset at the lack of Anakin’s presence, but he thinks that’s probably not the right thing to say here.

“Maybe he’s just tired?” Quinlan puts down his pen and rests his chin on one of his hands as he looks at Obi-Wan. “From the kids and the job and putting up with your moody ass. C’mon, Obi, what’s really getting you worked up?”

Obi-Wan purses his lips and stares at the desk in front of him, but he had come to Quinlan for help. He should at least be honest about what’s eating at him, even though he knows how silly it will sound when given a voice. “...Satine always waited up for me,” he mutters. “Until she didn’t.”

Quinlan’s quiet for a worryingly large amount of seconds, before he reaches out to pat Obi-Wan gently on the arm. “Oh, Obi,” he says pityingly. “Repeat after me. You cannot make your new roommate your rebound from your thirty year marriage.”

Obi-Wan scoffs. That’s not the problem at all. “That’s not the problem at all,” he says, not defensively in the slightest. “I think I’m just worried about the children not having enough structure in their lives.”

“Right,” Quinlan says, not quite managing to hide the skepticism in his voice. “Then you should talk to him. For the sake of the children.”

Obi-Wan will absolutely not be doing that, but it’s a nice thought.)

The real turning point in Anakin and Obi-Wan’s relationship happens five months after the Skywalkers move in.

Anakin and Obi-Wan are in the living room. Anakin is trying to braid Leia’s hair while Obi-Wan tries to pretend he isn’t watching. From the kitchen, there’s a very, very loud crash and the sound of something shattering.

Both adults leap up from their seats immediately and run to the other room.

Luke is standing in the epi-center of disaster, little face scrunched up like he doesn’t know whether or not to cry. At the sight of his dad and Obi-Wan, he starts to wail, moving forward and reaching for Anakin.

Obi-Wan, who is wearing shoes inside the house (a point of contention between himself and Anakin), grabs Luke roughly and picks him up by the armpits before he can cut his feet on the glass. He hands him over to Anakin to soothe, stepping further into the kitchen to find the dustpan he keeps in one of the pantries.

It’s very obvious what broke, though Obi-Wan can’t for the life of him understand how Luke got ahold of Satine’s heavy cake stand. He can definitely understand how Luke dropped it, as the thing was ridiculously heavy.

It had been one of the only things left in the house that had been Satine’s. She’d left it, and Obi-Wan had been too bitter or petty to point it out to her. Yes, it had been her mother’s. No, keeping it had not made him feel any better. But it’s not like Satine ever baked anything anyway.

Good for Luke, actually, for doing what Obi-Wan never could bring himself to do.

He grabs the broom and dustpan and marches back to the pieces of shattered glass. Anakin has placed Luke on the counter, ostensibly to check to make sure his feet are fine if the boy would ever let go of his father’s neck. Leia is peering around at the mess on the floor.

When Obi-Wan comes back and starts sweeping everything away, she darts forward to pick up a rather sizeable chunk.

“Don’t touch that,” Obi-Wan says sharply, much harsher than he intended. Leia drops it instantly and scurries back to her father, eyes wide and sort of watery. Oh, fuck.

“Hey,” Anakin snaps immediately. “She’s just trying to help and Luke didn’t mean to break--whatever that is.”

Obi-Wan holds up his hand to cut Anakin off. “I’m not mad,” he promises all three of the Skywalkers. And he’s not even lying. He’s really not mad, hasn’t even thought to be mad at this last piece of proof of his relationship with Satine shattering on his kitchen floor. “I just don’t want either of you to cut yourself. Glass like this can be very dangerous and none of you are wearing shoes.”

“Promise?” Luke asks, untucking his red face from Anakin’s neck so he can peer up at Obi-Wan.

“I’m sorry I was a bit rough,” Obi-Wan apologizes, coming over and bending down a bit so he’s on the same level as Luke. “I was just worried about you. Promise.”

Luke sniffles but lets go of Anakin to throw himself at Obi-Wan, apologizing all the way.

“Hush,” Obi-Wan says as Leia scrambles up his leg, vying for his attention. With his hands full of children that aren’t his, he raises his head to look at Anakin who’s watching them with a very strange expression on his face. He tilts his head toward the broom and then down to the kids in his arms. “Come along,” he tells them both. “Leia, I’ll finish your braids if you’d like.”

“Braid my hair too!” Luke demands with a pull on Obi-Wan’s shirt.

Luke’s hair is floppy but awfully short. “I’m sure we can figure something out,” Obi-Wan says generously, leaving the kitchen.

“I suppose I’ll just clean this up then?” Anakin calls sarcastically behind them.

“Thank you, darling,” Obi-Wan responds.

There’s the sound of something else breaking, but it’s not Obi-Wan’s problem at the moment.

(A year later, Anakin mentions something over morning coffee about looking for a new apartment, now that he’s got everything straightened out. “We’ll get out of your hair,” he says, rubbing at the back of his neck. “I’ll look today since it’s my day off.”

Obi-Wan doesn’t want to examine why that idea makes something curl tightly in his stomach, making him feel vaguely nauseous, but it does. On his way out of the house, he unplugs the router, and then after a second of thought, takes it with him just in case.)

(Quinlan laughs his head off when Obi-Wan sheepishly puts the router down on the desk in front of him. “It’s a bad market right now,” Obi-Wan says defensively. “I’m just looking out for him.”

“Obi, I mean this in the best way possible, but there are at least four professors in the psych department that would probably love to do a case study on you.”)

(Two years after the Skywalkers move in, Obi-Wan is running late for a meeting with the head of his department. The man is stepping down, finally retiring, and Obi-Wan thinks that perhaps he’ll be tapped as the new head. It would mean dropping some of his classes, but it would be worth it.

“I made you a breakfast wrap,” Anakin greets him at the door, holding out a paper bag. “It’s got that salsa you like in it.”

The salsa Obi-Wan likes is the mild version of what Anakin and the kids eat, but Anakin treats it as if it’s from another planet entirely.

“Good luck!” he says with a sweet smile, also passing Obi-Wan a travel mug of what’s hopefully fully caffeinated tea. Obviously Obi-Wan needs it. He got perhaps two full hours of sleep last night, tossing and turning and thinking about this meeting and now he’s running late and his tie is crooked and none of his favorite sweater vests were clean.

“Thank you, dear one,” Obi-Wan mumbles, mind somewhere else. If traffic isn’t too bad, he could still be on time.

“Text me how it goes!” Anakin chirps, following Obi-Wan out the door to stand on the front porch with his arms crossed in an attempt to fight off the early winter chill.

“Yes, of course,” Obi-Wan replies, turning around to brush an absent-minded kiss to Anakin’s lips before hurrying to his car. It’s a twenty minute commute. If he gets his preferred parking spot and runs to the department building, he won’t be late at all.

Is that too much to hope for?

He starts the car and pulls out of the driveway, looking back in the rearview mirror to see Anakin standing frozen on the porch. That’s strange, usually the other man can’t stand being out in the cold.

Obi-Wan gets to the first stop-sign out of the neighborhood before he realizes what he’s done. It’s lucky that he’s already slowing down, because he slams on the brakes. Did he--

Did he kiss Anakin? Did he really kiss Anakin as if he does it all the time? As if they were in a relationship?

Oh shit.

Frantically, he pulls out his cellphone from his bag and checks to see if he has any new messages. He doesn’t.

Oh. Shit.

[nerdzzone]

Only For A Moment: October + November [part one]

Summary: A series of shorter one shots from Chris and Whitney’s life together throughout the pandemic. Some happy times, some harder times, some fluff and some things a little more sexy - they work through it all as they try to get settled in their new and blossoming relationship.

Chris Evans x OFC

18+

Part of the Once Bitten/More Hearts series

Only For A Moment: September

Note: I was originally going to post this as one longer one shot, but I’ve split it into two. I haven’t finished writing the last part of the series yet and I’ve had a really bad and busy week so I haven’t had much time to work on it. It’s planned out, I just need to write it, but posting November as two parts gives me more time to finish it.

Thank you to everyone who has read and commented on this story. The support has been amazing!

-----

October 2020

"Hey," I greeted Chris as I poked my head around the door of his office. "Are you busy? Can I talk to you for a sec?"

He put down the script he was reading - something for a project he'd be starting as soon as the pandemic allowed - and nodded his head.

"Sure, what's up?"

I moved into the room, feeling strangely nervous about what I was about to ask.

"How would you feel," I started. "About me going to New York for a weekend for work?"

He raised his eyebrows, seemingly surprised by my inquiry and I rushed to assure him a bit more.

"They sent all the protocols that would be followed along with the job offer and it seems like it would be as safe as it possibly could be these days and I would drive up, not fly, so that would cut down on the chance of exposure a bit too," I assured him. "But I know that there's always a risk at the moment and it affects you and Gray too so I won't go if you're at all concerned."

Chris was smiling by the time I finished my long explanation and I felt a glimmer of hope that he wouldn't shoot down the idea immediately. I missed working and while Chris at least had 'A Starting Point' to focus on and various scripts to read through, I'd been completely out of work for months and I was ready to get back into it.

"Whitney, you don't need to convince me," he assured me. "I trust you. If you think it's safe and you want to do it then go for it."

"Okay, thank you," I let out a breath of relief. "I really do want to do it. I miss working."

"I know what you mean," he agreed. "What's the project?"

I couldn't hold back my grin as I answered that question.

"I get to go hang out with your friends," I informed him. "It's a promo shoot for Sebastian and Mackie's new show."

"Aw, man! That's great," Chris laughed. "Would you mind if I tagged along? I won't get in the way, I'll stay out of the photo shoot, but it would be nice to have a change of scenery."

"You wouldn't be allowed to come to the photo shoot at all," I warned him. "That was part of the protocol - no guests - and I don't know how many places are open there right now, there might not be much for you to do."

"I can keep myself entertained," he shrugged before flashing me a smirk. "We can leave Grayson with my mom, it'll be nice to have an adults only weekend."

"That would be nice," I agreed, matching his smirk as I followed his train of thought. We did fairly well making sure we got some quality time together, but we had to be quiet and quick and we always had the threat of Grayson interrupting in the back of our minds. "It's just a one day shoot so we'd have the Sunday together too."

"That's great," Chris grinned. "It'll be nice to get away."

"It will," I agreed, walking around his desk to lean down and capture his lips in a kiss. "Our first romantic getaway."

He slid his arm around my hips to keep me close as he smiled up at me.

"I can't wait."

-

November 2020

Leaving Grayson was harder than I anticipated. Considering I used to leave him with Chris every other week, I thought leaving him for a weekend would be easy, but I was a weepy mess. I held it together in front of Grayson so that he didn't get upset too - even though he was completely unbothered as he skipped off into Lisa's house - but once we got in the car, I let a few tears slip.

Of course, Chris teased me about it, but there was something in the way that he slipped his hand in mine and squeezed it reassuringly that told me he was feeling it too. We’d all adjusted to our new normal and Chris and I had really embraced having Gray by our side all the time so while two days was not a ridiculous amount of time to be apart, it felt like a momentous occasion. However, after giving ourselves a few minutes to wallow in the sadness, we agreed to do our best to push those feelings aside. We deserved a weekend away. No matter how much we loved him, parenting twenty-four/seven for almost ten months was hard work especially while trying to build our new relationship.

By the time we arrived in Manhattan in the early evening, our melancholy mood had shifted. The drive, spent playing silly little car games like ‘I Spy’ and singing cheesy duets, had put us in a wonderful mood and kicked off our weekend nicely. It was a fairly long drive though so I let Chris check in while I scampered off to use the restroom in the lobby. He had the keys by the time I found him again and when we got up the room, I was shocked. It was a fancy hotel - Marvel did tend to be quite generous when it came to accommodations - but it wasn't until we walked into the room that I realized we had the penthouse suite.

"Holy shit," I gasped, looking around at the luxurious space and amazing view out over Central Park. "This has to be a mistake, there's no way Marvel would pay for this!"

"No, they wouldn't," Chris smirked as he dropped our bags and moved over to the bottle of champagne that was already chilling in an ice bucket. "But I would."

"What?" I giggled. "What are you talking about? We already had a reservation booked in my name."

"Yeah, and I upgraded it," he grinned. "I just paid the difference between the room Marvel booked and this one."

He popped the champagne and poured it for us before coming to join me at the window and handing me a glass.

"You didn't have to do that, Chris. This is a pretty nice hotel, I'm sure whatever room they booked would have been fine."

"Oh yeah, it would have been fine," he shrugged. "But fine isn't what I'm aiming for this weekend and since we can't do much outside of this hotel anyway, the least I can do is make sure we have a good room."

I was looking forward to getting back to work, but suddenly I wished that I didn't have to as the idea of a romantic weekend hidden away in our gorgeous suite seemed like the best thing in the world. But, I knew we wouldn't have come without an excuse, so I tried to focus on being grateful for the time that we did have together.

Slipping my arm around his waist and stretching up on my toes, I pulled him in for a kiss, trying to convey my gratitude and excitement for the weekend.

"Well, I can think of several things we can do in this room that will keep us very busy," I teased once our lips parted again. "We better get started now or we might run out of time..."

Chris chuckled as he took a sip of his champagne, but shook his head.

"Not yet, Winnie," he denied me, despite his raspy voice. "Why don't you take that champagne and run yourself a nice bath while I order us some room service?"

I felt a frown slide onto my face and I would have been embarrassed at my childish pout had I not been so confused about him turning me down.

"Why?" I asked. "I would have thought you'd be raring to go now that we can finally enjoy ourselves with no interruptions..."

"I am but I want to enjoy it,” Chris informed me, leaning down to nip at my neck before letting his lips hover next to my ear. "I want you relaxed and well-fed so I can take my time while I make you scream my name over and over and over."

His low voice sent shivers down my spine as his plan for the night sent a wave of arousal through me. My mouth suddenly felt dry and my brain forgot how to make words as I choked out an 'okay' and took myself off to the bathroom to do as he'd instructed.

-

When I wandered out into the living room area of our suite almost forty-five minutes later, I was thoroughly relaxed. Wrapped in a very fluffy white bathrobe that was at least two sizes too big for me, I announced my entrance with a contented sigh. Chris looked up at the sound and let out a laugh.

"What?" I giggled, striking a pose as I had a good idea what he found amusing. "They only had one size."

"You look adorable," he grinned at me. "C'mere, let me top up your drink."

I did as he asked, walking over to where he was sitting and noticed the cart full of food that was next to him. He'd ordered my favourite - mac 'n' cheese - and I felt a rush of love for him when I saw it. A lot of people had teased me over the years, insisting that it was more of a child's dish - something not refined enough for an adult’s palate - but it had always been one of my top choices and I was touched that he'd remembered.

He'd ordered a steak for himself and we both eagerly tucked into our meals, eating until we were almost painfully full and just barely saving enough room for the peanut butter cheesecake that he'd ordered for dessert. That was another favourite of mine and I got a stern warning from Chris - as I moaned through every mouthful - that I needed to control myself until we'd had a chance to digest our large meal. I bit back a smirk, almost tempted to continue my noises of pleasure just to antagonize him, but I reluctantly decided to behave.

After we ate, we curled up on the couch with something meaningless on the TV as we recovered from the large meal. We were half-watching it, half just basking in the contentment of our full stomachs until Chris eventually decided that we'd waited long enough.

My feet were draped over his lap as we lounged and I felt his hands slowly move from lazy stroking the tops of my feet to higher up my ankle. At first, I didn't pay much attention as I mindlessly scrolled through my phone, but as his hand trailed higher up my leg, his intentions became more clear. I fought to keep a straight face as I continued to ignore him even as his hand slid up to my knee. He kept it there for a few moments, rubbing his thumb against my skin, but he quickly lost his patience as I continued playing it cool. Letting out a soft growl, he returned his hands to my feet and with a swift tug, he moved me down the couch.

"Chris!" I giggled as my head slipped from the arm of the couch onto the cushion where my bum had been moments before. "What are you doing?"

"You were ignoring me," he smirked. "So, I took matters into my own hands."

"Maybe I was reading something important," I teased. "You're so rude."

He pulled again, moving my hips up onto his lap.

"I'm rude? We're on a romantic getaway and you're starin’ at your phone."

"Well, maybe you weren't being very interesting."

He chuckled at that, but shook his head.

"You're such a brat," he scolded. "Maybe I should just flip you over and teach you a lesson."

He moved a hand down and pinched my bum to emphasize his point and I gasped as a wave of intrigue flooded through me. Using the back of the couch for leverage, I pulled myself up until I was sitting on his lap, but the positioning was a bit awkward so I shifted and straddled him instead.

"I'm not sure if a spanking from you would be much of a punishment..."

My words made his eyes darken as his hands rubbed up and down my thighs.

"Oh, really?" He questioned and I nodded with a smile. "Well, that is very interesting information to have."

"I'm surprised you haven't brought it up before," I teased. "Since you're such an ass man."

"Shut up," Chris chuckled before forcing me to do so by pressing my lips against his.

It started off as a sweet, playful kiss, but the mood of anticipation between us quickly transitioned it into something more.

His hands moved from my thighs up to my hips as I let mine slide behind him - one rubbing the soft hairs on his neck as the other held the back of his head, keeping it firmly against my own. Our lips parted, letting our tongues bump and glide against each other and I felt a fire started to burn inside of me already.

Our position and the fact that I was wearing nothing, but a bathrobe meant that there was nothing between us other than Chris' jeans. I was pressed bare against him which became apparent when he used his firm grip to pull me even closer towards him. A gasp fell from my lips at the friction the denim caused and Chris pulled back to grin at me.

"Does that feel good?" He pressed my hips forward again as he asked the question and my eyes fluttered shut as I nodded. "Then keep going."

He titled his chin to capture my lips in another kiss as he loosened his grip on me, but his instructions had been clear. Taking matters into my own hands, I started rocking my hips slowly against his enjoying the sparks I felt every time I rubbed against him. I could feel him harden, the bulge underneath me growing bigger with every pass of my hips, and the feeling had me moaning into his mouth. I almost stood up - I almost pulled myself off of his lap and dragged him to the bedroom as my body craved him and wanted him inside me - but I remembered what he'd said. He wanted to wait, to take it slow and savour the experience so, with a smirk to myself, I continued my actions with the knowledge of his growing arousal only adding to my pleasure.

As if Chris could read my mind or feel my misguided sense of control, he tightened his grip again and pressed me even harder against him. I moaned at the sensation, pulling my mouth from his as my head fell backwards. I tried to find something to focus on, something to help me regain a morsel of self-control, but nothing in the room could distract from the pressure that was building quickly as the rough material dragged against my clit. A part of me was embarrassed to be rubbing myself against him like this, but with each thrust of my hips, a much bigger part of me grew too desperate to care.

Taking advantage of my exposed neck, Chris latched his lips onto the skin, nipping and sucking gently before tracing kisses up until his mouth was beside my ear.

"You're almost there, aren't you?" His voice was low and the way my fingers dug into the back of his neck was all the answer I could muster as his hands forced my body to keep up the steady rhythm. "I bet you're almost soakin’ right through my pants. You're so needy. Go on, Winnie, take what you want."

A whimper fell from my lips as his words sent shivers down my spine. My movements, supported by his hands, became even more frantic as I felt my release building to a peak and after a few more shifts against him, I let out a strangled moan as I crashed over the edge.

Chris continued his mumbled words of encouragement as his hands continued to force me to move until I melted against him and let my head flop onto his shoulder. My breath against his neck drew goosebumps up on his skin and I placed a soft kiss on them as I fought to control my breathing.

"How're you feeling?"

I sighed softly in response to Chris' question, fighting to make my brain function enough to form words.

"Wonderful," I purred into his ear after taking a moment to compose myself. "But I'm really dying to have you inside me..."

Without another word, Chris used his grip on my hips to lift me off his lap and onto my feet. My legs felt shaky from the strength of my recent orgasm, but they held me up as I stared down at Chris, a bit stunned by the fast movement. He looked up at me for a brief moment before raising an eyebrow and nodding his head towards our bedroom.

"Do you need me to carry you?" He questioned, his tone laced with sarcasm as he clearly noticed the quiver in my legs. "Or can you walk?"

I giggled and playfully rolled my eyes, but turned towards the bedroom. Trying to regain some semblance of power in the situation, I undid the robe that was still tied around my waist and let it fall to the floor. The action left me completely naked as I walked away and I heard a growl of approval from Chris followed by the sound of him jumping to his feet behind me. I scampered off with him hot on my heels, but he caught me in his grasp when I was a few feet past our bedroom door.

He easily lifted me off the ground and I let out a squeal as he tossed me onto the bed.

"Wow," I giggled as I flopped onto my back, leaning up on my elbows to look at him. "That was a graceful landing, real sexy."

Chris smirked as he pulled his shirt over his head.

"You're always sexy," he insisted, moving to the bed and crawling over me. "I can't get enough of you."

Before I could respond, his mouth was back on mine. I smiled against his lips and took a moment to run my hands over his toned muscles, but quickly moved them down to the belt on his jeans as I was eager to get things moving. Almost immediately, he pulled away with that damn smirk still on his face.

"Not so fast," he warned. "I said we were going to take our time."

"We already did," I whined. "Please, Chris, I want you so bad."

He dipped his head and kissed along my jaw until his lips hovered by my ear.

"And you'll have me," he assured me. "Eventually."

I let out a groan of frustration, but as he trailed his kisses lower until they reached my chest, the groan became one of pleasure. A hand slid up my side until it was level with his head and while his mouth captured one nipple, his fingers pinched the other. I gasped and arched my back up towards him, desperate to be as close to him as possible.

His actions started off soft. His fingers and lips worked in a gentle, almost teasing way that had me almost ready to whine for more, but just when I thought I couldn’t take it anymore, he increased the pressure. His fingers pinched and tweaked one as he nipped the other and the sensation had my hips pressing up against him almost of their own volition. He chuckled as I lifted a leg to hook it over his hip, pulling him down in an attempt to find any friction as he moved to rest his chin between my breasts.

"You're so impatient," he teased. "I'm not gonna fuck you yet."

His voice was thick and rough from his own aroused state and it only made me more desperate.

"Please, Chris..." I whined. "Why not?"

Chris let his teeth graze against my skin briefly before moving further down my body, my question apparently going unanswered. He kissed his way over my stomach, an affectionate smile appearing on his face as he watched the muscles under his mouth quiver and twitch from his actions. It appeared he was intent on taking his sweet time and I really was about to start begging again when he finally settled between my thighs, pulling my legs to rest over his shoulders.

A snarky comment about him taking so long was on the tip of my tongue, but any attitude I was feeling disappeared as he pressed his tongue against me, licking upwards until he settled against my clit. I couldn't hold back the moans and gasps that poured from my lips from the sensation and for a moment, I worried I was being too loud. However, from the way Chris' fingers dug into my ass to lift me higher against his mouth, he seemed to find it encouraging.

He was focused and determined, his lazy mood from moments earlier seemingly gone and I wasn't complaining as I was already practically dripping on to the bed with need. He knew my body almost better than I did and the way his lips were locked on just the right spot, sucking with just the right pressure was driving me wild.

In a few mere minutes, I was already teetering on the edge, but when I gasped out a warning to Chris, he instantly pulled away.

I lifted my head as I let out a growl and scowled down at him - the cocky smirk on his face only adding to my annoyance.

"What the hell, Chris," I huffed. "Keep going!"

He kissed my thigh as I felt an almost painful ache between my legs.

"Patience, Winnie," he warned me. "You need a lesson in patience."

The overwhelming feeling I felt in response to that comment was frustration, but there was a hint of intrigue as well. I was at his mercy, being teased and toyed with until he decided otherwise and I'd be lying if that knowledge didn't turn me on even more.

"Do you-" I gasped as he blew against the wet place his mouth had been moments before. "Do you want me to beg?"

"It wouldn't hurt," he grinned. "But there is something appealing about the thought of seeing how long I can keep you like this..."

That idea filled me with dread. As enticing as my helplessness in this scenario was, the thought of it lasting more than a few minutes seemed painfully cruel.

"No, please don't," I pleaded. "Please touch me, Chris. Please, please. I need it so bad."

He groaned, letting his forehead rest against my thigh for a moment before looking up to meet my eyes.

"The way you say my name when you're like this drives me crazy."

He moved his hand to flick his thumb over my clit and his name fell from my lips again as a desperate whimper. That seemed to be all he needed to hear as he quickly attached his mouth back to that sweet spot.

Instantly, my hands shot to grip his head as mine fell back against the pillows. He held down my hips that were pushing up towards him, desperate to increase the friction, but it didn't matter. I was so close already, so worked up from his previous actions, that it took no time at all for the pressure he'd built up inside me to boil over as I finally found my release.

As always, he coaxed me through it, only moving back when he was sure my orgasm had faded. By the time it was done, my chest was heaving and Chris dragged himself off the bed, giving me a moment to catch my breath as he rid himself of his jeans and boxers. I smiled at the sight, but I was in a daze. My whole body felt like jelly from the two amazing orgasms I'd just received, but that didn't stop me from the moment of clarity that hit just as he was climbing back over me.

"Wait! Condom."

Chris cursed under his breath before hopping off the bed and quickly rifling through his bag. He found one - which I knew he would as I'd reminded him several times to pack them so we wouldn’t be caught without them in a moment like this - and returned to the bed.

"Hurry," I panted. "I need you."

A quiet growl rumbled from Chris' chest as he quickly tore open the condom wrapper and put it on. I was still sensitive from our previous activities, but as soon as he was on top of me again, I was pressing up towards him. He filled me with an almost insatiable need and it seemed his patience was also thin after being so hard for so long as he slid inside me with impressive speed.

I groaned from the sensation of him filling me so quickly, but any discomfort quickly shifted into pleasure as he rocked his hips against mine. My fingers dug into his shoulders as my legs wrapped around his waist pulling him closer as he quickly established a steady rhythm. As much as he wanted to take his time, his restraint was clearly waning as he kept up a vigorous pace. My over sensitive state and his purposefully angled thrusts, hitting all the right nerves with just the right pressure, had me writing beneath him as I basked in the sensation.

Chris was always rather vocal, but as his moans, grunts and whispers of filthy commentary grew louder and more unrestrained it became clear that he was also edging closer and closer to his peak. His hips snapped with more ferocity and all I could do was hold onto him tightly, giving him all the control and riding the waves of pleasure he was causing.

“I’m close,” he groaned, his voice strained as his breath hit my neck.

Unable to form words, I made a noise that I hoped would convey my agreement and his movements seemed to become even more pointed and more deliberate. With every thrust, he made sure to rub against every sensitive spot inside me and moments later, I felt my release hit me. It felt like every muscle in my body tensed as I quivered and clenched around him, a sound leaving my mouth that was so lustful and unrestrained that I could hardly believe it was coming from me. He gasped out a moan of his own from the sensation of me coming around him and quickened his pace through my orgasm until eventually he stilled, the sound of his pleasure echoing through my ears.

Once we had both recovered, Chris rolled off of me, pulling the condom off and disposing of it in the garbage can next to the bed before he settled on his back, chest heaving from exertion.

I let out a happy sigh as I curled into his side and his arm wrapped around me, pulling me close.

"That was amazing," I smiled, placing a kiss against his chest.

He chuckled, squeezing me even tighter as he answered.

"See? Patience. It makes everything better."

I nipped at the skin underneath my mouth.

"Shut up."

He leaned down to place a kiss on the top of my head and I smiled.

"I love you," he practically whispered in the darkness. "I'm so glad we get this weekend together."

"Me too," I agreed. "I love you too."

He squeezed me closer again as we laid there curled up in each other, basking in our post-orgasmic glow.

No one had ever made me feel the way that Chris did. I’d never felt as safe with anyone, I’d never felt so able to let my guard down, and the physical aspect of our relationship clearly benefited greatly from the closeness that we shared. It was an amazing feeling to know that we were so in tune with each other and that there was so much room to explore the things that made us feel good and, despite being fully satisfied for the time being, I couldn't help but let my mind wander to other things I would be interested in delving into as I drifted off to sleep.

-

November [part two]

Tags:  @maggotzombie @moonlacebeam @mizzzpink @zaylaugh @flowery-mess @flowerjewels @njrronaldo7 @hockeychick10 @partypoison00 @theladybiers @sidepieces @firoozehmoon @patzammit @sparkledfirecracker @mytbel0st @chvntelle-99 @mjey12

[hops-hunny]

Something I’d Get Used To

Pairing: Neville Longbottom x Reader

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 3.4k

Request: anon “Hey could I get a 9 & 21 for nev with a fem reader please fluff/smutt! Thank you!! :)”

Summary: (Y/n) doesn’t do love, but whatever her and Neville have is something she can get used to

Warnings: Slight angst in the beginning but vast majority fluff!

A/N: Hey anon, I decided to go with fluff so I hope you enjoy this! I had a lot of fun writing this so I hope you have just as much reading it!

9. “Love’s a word I always hated.”

21. “I’m smitten with you and everyone knows it.”

Love. A word that made (Y/n) sick to the very pit of her stomach, and Merlin’s knows not in a good way. (Y/n) was tired of the word love before she even knew what it meant. The word that held so much meaning. The word girls and boys alike waited sometimes their entire life to hear. She was sick of it. She had her parents to thank for that. Growing up, (Y/n)’s parents were always busy with work, leaving her with various different strangers referred to as “nannies”. At first she’d look forward to hearing the words, even reading them. “We love you dear, we’ll be home soon!” Each letter ended with this phrase. She remembered the long days that she’d sit by the front door, waiting for the owl to bring the letters to her. How she’d clutch them to her heart, cheering with glee as she’d read her to whichever nanny they had hired. 

However, each time they’d leave they would go for longer and longer, the letters would grow shorter and shorter until eventually they became nonexistent. She felt uncared for, unloved. When her parents got older they started to stay home more opting to work from home. She could still recall the fated conversation that made her hated that stupid little four letter word.

(Y/n) was ecstatic but tried not to show it that much. She knew how much her parents disliked when she would outwardly express obscene amounts of emotion and yet she couldn’t help the smile that overtook her face when they invited her out for dinner. They felt bad for all the important holidays and birthdays they had missed and to make up for it, they decided to take her out for one last grand hoorah before her departure to Hogwarts. 

“Mom, dad, can I ask you something?” she asked, playing with her fingers nervously. Although they were her parents, she always felt unsure of how to speak to them. The limited amount of time they had spent together were always cut short, leaving her parents to feel like distant strangers in her life. Her mom looked up from her phone, smiling at the girl.

“Of course dear, what is it?”

“I...I wanted to know why the letters stopped. You know, when you two would travel. You used to send me a postcard and a letter from whatever place you guys were at and eventually they just stopped coming.” She looked up at her parents, biting the inside of her cheek nervously. “Why is that?”

“Letters?” her father started off confused, looking up from his menu briefly before returning his eyes to it. “What lett-”

“Dear let’s stop. Did you want to order drinks too? I’ll get the waiter ov-”

“No mother, let him finish. Go on dad, what do you mean what letters? You guys used to send me them every time you left. How could you not know what letters?” she pleaded desperately, trying to find the answers in her parents eyes.

“Oh right! Those letters.” he said unamused. “Listen kid, you’re old enough now so I guess it’s time we tell you. We weren’t the ones writing those letters, it was your nannies. Do you really think we had the time out of our busy schedules to write you letters? Don’t be ridiculous.” he said, letting out a chuckle. “I don’t see how you didn’t notice that the handwriting was a bit different each time.”  His eyes rose quickly from the small words on the menu at the sound of the menu being slammed on the table. (Y/n) stood there with hot angry tears in her eyes, glaring at her parents. No, it wasn’t true, it couldn’t be. They loved her, right? People who love each other don’t lie, her mother had taught her that once. She rose from her spot in the booth, running out the restaurant despite the cries of protest for her to stay.

When she got home, she went into her room pulling the old box that she kept under her bed. She ripped the lid off, pouring the contents onto the bed. “No,” she croaked, tears beginning to form in her eyes again, “No, no, no. Come on. No come on!” she picked up the letters comparing the writing noticing how the writing didn’t match up. “Bullshit! This is bullshit! I can’t believe this!” she screamed, throwing herself on the bed. She sobbed herself to sleep, surrounded by the letters filled with lies. So much for love.

After that incident, (Y/n) opted for staying with her aunt. Her aunt was a few years older than her mom but due to the lax life she lived, she looked a lot younger. She was very grateful that her aunt took her in with such short notice, welcoming her with open arms. She’d write to her often, sending her letters of the adventures she was having at Hogwarts. She would always laugh at the bittersweet way her aunt would sign letters, “Lots of Love, Aunt Margie.”

“Oh come on! Please? It’s just one group date.” Hermione pleaded, chasing down the hallway after her friend. She sat down next to her on the common room couch, smiling at the (y/h/h) girl. “And who knows? Maybe you’ll even fall in l-”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence. That word makes me sick to my stomach.” she said, clutching at her stomach to add emphasis as she made gagging noises. “Love’s a word I’ve always hated.” Hermione looked at her friend sympathetically, patting her leg. Her and Hermione had been friends long before their years at Hogwarts. Her parents were colleagues of her parents but they had lower down positions.

“I know, I know. But you also know I wouldn’t put you with anyone I didn’t think was good enough to be with you. He’s a sweet guy! He loves tending to plants, he’s kind, funny. Sure he’s a little awkward and slouches a bit when he stands but he’s got his own bit of charm!” She said, watching as (Y/n) considered her words. She sighed looking at her.

“Is he at least cute?” 

“I knew you’d come around!” Hermione exclaimed, wrapping her arms around her friend tightly. She pulled back, holding her hands in a comforting way. “It is at the end of the week. I decided to tell you ahead of time so on the off chance you’d agree, which you did, you’d have time to back out at any time if you decided you don’t want to go. Well,” she started as she stood up, gathering her things in her hand. “I’ve gotta get going! And to answer your question, I guess you’ll have to see for yourself.”

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

(Y/n) snuck through the grass trying to make her way to the greenhouse. Well, as much you could sneak in panda slippers and a nightie. It was about three in the morning and no matter what, she couldn’t sleep. Most nights she had trouble sleeping but it was never this much. “Just my luck. First date I ever agree to and here I am in my fucking pajamas trying to sneak into the greenhouse for a plant that may or may not even be there.” she grumbled, holding her illuminated wand in front of her. She sighed in relief as she finally made her way into the greenhouse. 

She found herself pondering whether it would’ve been simpler to just snag some chamomile from Snape’s room instead. “No, don’t be stupid. He would’ve definitely given me some awful punishment, or even worse, let Filch deal with me.” she shuddered at the thought. She looked around the crowded building, looking and searching for the plant. “What the fuck does a chamomile plant even look like?” she muttered. (Y/n) felt herself growing a bit irritated with herself. Years of living with her Aunt Margie had left her spoiled considering Aunt Margie hated tea bags, always opting for making her own blends. If only she had paid attention to her when she was teaching her about plants, that would make this process a whole lot easier.

“Chamomile, chamomile, chamomile. Eh, this looks close enough!” she reached for the pair of scissors in her pocket, leaning forward to cut it before a hand grabbed hers. She screamed, jumping back as she pointed the scissors at the intruder. “What are you doing?!” she questioned, looking up at the boy. He had a blue pajama set on along with a brown pair of moccasins. He quirked a brow, hazel eyes boring into her own.

“I could ask you the same thing. I come here every night and never see you here.” he shuffled awkwardly, taking the scissors from the girl’s grasp. “Did you need something?”

“I was just about to cut a bit of this chamomile here.” She said motioning to the plant. The boy began to laugh some, shaking his head as he walked across the greenhouse. “What’s so funny?”

“That,” he motioned to the plant that she was previously going to cut, “Is not chamomile. If you were looking for something to help with sleep you would’ve been very upset. That’s actually bouncing biltweed. Whoever drinks it, be it through a tea or potion, is left awake for HOURS. It’s a good alternative for coffee drinkers though.” she felt heat rise to her face as she looked away embarrassed, crossing her arms as she mumbled about how she already knew that.

“Why do you know so much about plants anyways. You say you come here every night, why is that?” she questioned, walking over to his side. She watched as he cut at the actual chamomile before walking to a purple plant and cutting some of that as well.

“I love plants. I always used to have this extra energy from how anxious I’d get, so I started tending and caring for plants. After herbology in first year I became hooked. They’re so fascinating.” He looked down at her, flushing slightly. “Usually I don’t come here this late but I couldn’t sleep either. I have something I’m really looking forward to tomorrow and I don’t wanna screw it up.” she nodded, giving him a noise of acknowledgement. 

“Yeah, I’ve got something tomorrow to. I wouldn’t say I’m looking forward to it but I am quite concerned about how it’ll all play out.” she sighed, stretching as her eyes floated around the room. Her eyes landed on a kettle and a set of cups around the room. “Well since we’re both in the same boat, how bout we have a cup of tea together, yeah?” she asked, walking to the kettle as she looked back at the boy. She noticed how red he was but chose to ignore it as he gave her a nod.

Although she wasn’t usually a people person, she felt oddly comforted around the boy. He was a bit awkward but sweet nonetheless. (Y/n) hadn’t expected to run into him, let alone spend the next few hours laughing and talking to a guy who’s name she didn’t even know! After a while, their conversation dwindled down to nothing as the effects of the lavender and chamomile took over the both of them. The walked to the castle together before bidding each other goodbye, going their separate ways. She’d never admit it to herself, but she quite liked the boy. He seemed like someone she could be into.

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

“Hurry up! We’re going to be late!” Hermione huffed, throwing herself onto (Y/n)’s bed as the girl got ready. (Y/n) rolled her eyes, adding a final coat of lip gloss on as she ignored the girl. “You know, for someone who was very reluctant to go on this date, you’re putting a lot of effort into your appearance. I think Neville will appreciate it though." She giggled as the girl began to sprits a light amount of perfume.

"Neville?” ah, so that’s what his name was. “And, if I'm going to be wasting my time then I might as well look good doing it. And besides, I'm ready!" She walked over to the mirror smiling at her appearance. She had on a mossy green oversized sweater totally not stolen from her father that was tucked into the overall shorts that she had cuffed around the legs. On her lower half she adorned a beat up pair of sneakers. She smiled, admiring herself before grabbing her brown leather satchel. Hermione stood next to her friend in the mirror, looking at her own appearance as she bit the inside of her cheek.

“Do you think I look alright?” she questioned, viewing herself from another angle. “Because, you know, I think I look wonderful but do you think Ro-”

“If Ron doesn’t think you look nice then I’ll give him a reason not to be able to see. You look wonderful! You’ve been looking forward to this all week, don’t go beating yourself up. Now,” she grabbed the girl’s hand as they began to head towards the door. “Let’s go show 'em what we’re made of.”

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

The world had to be playing a joke on her. There was no other explanation for what was in front of her. No, it couldn’t be him. However, as they neared her suspicions were confirmed. As the others were all communicating, the boy(who she assumed to be Neville) stood awkwardly by himself, chiming in every so often. She could’ve been wrong but as he turned towards her, with rosy red cheeks and wide eyes, she knew most definitely it was him. “Hey! It’s you from last night. Are you Neville?” she questioned, standing in front of him. He had on a brown flannel, a black shirt under it which was untucked from his dark color jeans, quite a contrast from his cute little pajama set from the other night.

“Y-yeah I am! This is for you.” He said, holding out a beautiful hand picked bouquet before continuing, “I-I know it’s a weird combination but I thought it’d be a nice call back from the other night.” she smiled, looking down at the strange but welcome array of chamomile, lavender, and baby’s breath. How cu- thoughtful was that? Her brows shot up in realization.

“Wait, you knew?! Why didn’t you say something?” she exasperated, slapping his shoulder playfully before she threw back her head groaning. “I told you so many embarrassing stories last night.” she facepalmed, looking up at him as he began to laugh some.

“Thought it’d be a funny surprise. The look on your face was priceless!” He said, moving away as he laughed at her failed attempts to hit him. He looked around realizing their group had already gone. “It looks like everyone else already left. Let’s get going, yeah?” he said, holding his hand out to her. (Y/n) looked down at it hesitantly before taking his outstretched hand, goosebumps spreading across her body at the warm contact. 

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

As they arrived at the quaint little hole in the wall of a restaurant, they realized their small predicament. Hermione smiled, turning towards (Y/n). “Have I ever mentioned how much I lo- care about you?” she cooed sweetly, taking the girl’s (s/c) hands in her own. In return the girl narrowed her eyes looking at her.

“What happened? What do I need to do?” she questioned.

“Well it won’t necessarily be you who has to do something,” she walked back looking at her group of friends, “It appears there’s not enough seats for 5 sets of us so one couple is going to have to take a booth.” (Y/n) looked at her rolling her eyes.

“We’ll do it. Willingly too because if I have to see Harry look at Ginny like that one more time I honestly might end up puking. Come on Nev.” she said, grabbing the giant's hand, leading him to the booth in question. Neville felt his breath hitch and his face flush at the contact, turning to give his friends one last look.

“Don’t bore her to death with all your talk about weeds and plants! I don’t think any girl wants to hear that.” Seamus snickered out, walking away from his friend. However, (Y/n) didn’t hear him, looking up at Neville as she waited for him to sit down. She froze but shortly relaxed as he took a seat across from her instead of next to her.

“I hope we didn’t waste all our good topics yesterday!” she exclaimed looking over at him.

“Surely we haven’t. You know, you never told me what you like to do for fun. Do you have any hobbies?” he asked, looking over the menu as he waited for a response.

“Of course! I’m an artist. Wait a second, I brought my sketchbook, give me one second.” she said, digging into the brown bag that sat next to her. She pulled out a worn down leather notebook, sliding it across the table. 

“You brought your sketchbook on a date?” he chuckled, watching as she looked away timidly. “I’m just teasing, love. Plus I knew you drew, I’ve seen you sketching sometime but I’ve never actually seen any of you work,” he flipped it open, gasping at the girl’s art, “But oh wow are you talented! I expected nothing less from you though.”

“To be fair, I brought the sketchbook before I knew it was you I was going on a date with. I thought I’d be stuck with someone boring and uninteresting,” she said, watching as he examined the pages, “But I guess I lucked out, huh?” Now it was Neville’s turn to feel taken. He flushed lightly before reaching over, grabbing her hand.

“Oh? Am I hearing this correctly? Am I being led to believe you’re enjoying your time on this date with me?”

“Don’t push your luck, Longbottom.”

The pair continued to talk, not a moment of silence falling upon them. It was going perfectly. Neville let her talk about her hobbies and equally enjoyed talking about his. Not once did either of the two get bored or stop talking...which couldn’t be said about their friend’s at the table across from them. The two began to giggle at the sight of the bored expressions on their faces. “Oh god, how awkward does that look?” she laughed out, watching as one of the girl’s visibly yawned at something Seamus said.

“And to think he tried to give me advice before this. Looks like it should’ve been the other way around.” He said, moving his eyes back to the girl. God she was gorgeous, he couldn’t help but think so. He let his eyes travel down the slope of her nose to the outline of her lips. He was absolutely enamoured by the girl, and had been for a few months. He could never get the words right to say to her and from what he had heard from other guys who confessed, he didn’t think he wanted to. He jumped out of his thoughts as the girl’s face was extremely close to his. (Y/n) began to laugh, sitting back down in her seat.

“T-the look on your face! Oh that was priceless. You practically jumped out of your pants!” she laughed harder, snorting as she bang her fist on the table. After a few seconds, she looked over at  the taller boy tilting her head in confusion at his lack of words. “Neville, are you alright?” her eyes looked down as he gripped her hand in his own.

“Listen (Y/n) I know you don’t do love but I just need to say this. I...I like you. I’m absolutely entranced by every part of you and it did start out as physically, I’ll admit but it wouldn’t feel right having you be the only one who didn’t know. I’m smitten with you and everyone knows it.” he spoke softly, looking down at his empty plate on the table. His face flushed as she tilted his head to face her, his expression filled with confusion.

“You’re right. I don’t do love. However,” she tightened her grasp on his hand stroking his cheek, “I think we have the potential to have far more than that. Something greater than lo-love.” Neville’s face was overtaken in shock at the girl’s revelation. (Y/n) smiled before leaning over and leaving a kiss on his cheek.

She may not be the type to do love, but this was definitely something she could get used to.

[nukenai]

idk just some shower thoughts ranting about my experiences with my gender identity & body growing up and how Weird it was. I try very much not to be like Listen To My Cis Feelings About Shit! but, idk maybe it’s stupid to say but I deeply struggled with my body for most of my life so it’s just kinda about that

growing up I always had long hair because I was told I looked like a boy with short hair. I was into typical “boy things” and people would wonder why I wasn’t More Of A Girl.

This will get only slightly TMI but I like. Did not hit puberty?? Idk. Like when I was 15 or 16 I finally got my period, and my face started breaking out absolutely nonstop until earlier this year, but I literally never experienced Body Changes. I am completely flat chested. I don’t have wide hips. I never “developed”. ~*Biologically*~ I’m female but I always felt ugly and misshapen because I never got an Adult Body like everyone else around me.

I was... bullied a lot for it. Kids in my one science class in high school hand-wrote me a letter telling me that my clothes were ugly and there was something wrong with me for wearing them (a t-shirt and jeans). They asked me, graphically, if I was secretly a boy because my body didn’t look like a girl’s and I didn’t have boobs. My own mother bought me padded bras because “You need to have a little something”, and would angrily ask why I didn’t want to wear makeup to “look better”.

I felt so awful about my scrawny, non-shaped self that I only wore t-shirts and jeans with light hoodies for my entire school life. A couple times I would wear dresses at dances and stuff and people were shocked that I even owned things like that.

I didn’t NOT want to be a girl or anything. The opposite. I wished I was prettier and could wear nice things, but nice things didn’t look good on my body. I wanted to be a beautiful princess but I just wasn’t beautiful and no one wanted to look at me. I never had any boyfriends or anything in school because no one was interested in me, remotely. Not a single person ever expressed real interest in me and while I didn’t particularly WANT a relationship, it really... hurt my feelings that no one would even be interested. My mom told me she felt that I “missed out” for not having boyfriends in school and pressured me into a “relationship” with a friend that expressed a crush on me post-high school, that lasted for 2 weeks bc I was miserable. We are still good friends and everything is fine now. [I am also still good friends with every person I was in a “real” relationship with as an adult but I have realized it is Not For Me because I am unable to really reciprocate Romantic(tm) feelings and I really, really hate being touched a lot of the time! I like hugs! But skin-on-skin contact, even like, hand-holdilng, is extremely uncomfortable to me and being kissed repulses me! Even on the cheek, man. Even by family. I’ve really offended family members my entire life, mostly my mom, because of this. She would always touch me and kiss me without permission and it has just ALWAYS upset me. Sorry mom.]

Only in college did I start trying to wear clothes that made me feel nice. I wore a floor-length skirt to a writing class one day with a nice blouse I had. My professor got distracted in the middle of saying something because he was so surprised to see me dressed nice - it was a nice day out and he said I was dressed like a “spring flower”. Everyone in the class started very kindly commenting that I looked really nice and seemed happy and they hoped I’d wear clothes like that in the future because I always seemed gloomy when I wore just hoodies and jeans.

Idk when the switch really happened. After my mom died I guess. I cut all my hair off and now I can’t stand it being past my shoulders. I realized that I wasn’t in high school anymore so nobody gave a shit if I looked weird in clothes, I should just wear what I wanted. I started wearing shorter and shorter skirts and dresses on hot summer days, and I realized it was really nice to wear clothes like that. I didn’t just have to stare at them in the store anymore.

I have the same body I did when I was 15. I weigh the same. I never got any boobs or hips or anything. But something changed when I became an adult and I started buying cute dresses and short-shorts. I’m 30 now and I still wear my tiny dresses and skirts. But also I wear my graphic tees with my jeans and either way I feel great. I sorta came to terms with this being My body and it doesn’t matter what other people think. I don’t love it... not yet. But, I finally actually love being a girl.

I’ve seen “gender euphoria” discussed as exclusively a trans topic and I never want to overstep. But I’ve endured 15+ years of severe, what I could really call dysphoria, over just... what my body was. I didn’t know what i wanted it to be, but it wasn’t THIS mess. And now, at almost 31, I’m finally kind of happy in my skin. I finally got treatment for my breakouts - at 30 - and even though I’m covered in scars, I feel like I’m finally taking ownership of my body.

So idk like I said this is just ranting about my own personal experiences. Again I absolutely don’t want to overstep or be like “yeah I totally get what it’s like to be trans” bc I don’t and never will. But it makes me just sort of think, I’ve come to really be able to like myself and my expression of myself. Why wouldn’t I want that for my trans friends? And even people who aren’t my friends? I think it’s an amazing feeling that took way too long for me to find, and everyone should be able to feel like this, whether they’re wearing dresses or jeans or short-shorts, man who cares.

I also don’t get periods anymore due to the birth control I’m on for a medical condition, so I get so extra weirded out by fucked up TERF shit degrading ~*Womanhood*~ down to biological functions and body structure. Like, I don’t have breasts, or wide hips, or a menstrual cycle. But I’m a woman and I know I am. This whole “Define a woman” shit is so bizarre because why should we have to? How about we let people define themselves?? I don’t feel threatened by transwomen because I think everyone should be able to enjoy finding themselves like I did. I know all TERF shit is just lies and posturing and making shit up because they’re insecure psychopaths anyways. And I might be a slight psychopath but I’m not insecure about who I am. And someone defining themselves as a “woman” in a way that’s different than me is kind of none of my business! I just. I guess I literally don’t care how other people are defining/presenting/etc themselves because it’s not? Me? I just want other people to be happy in themselves because I know what it’s like to be MISERABLE in myself, and it’s feels like being trapped in a nightmare. And having other people torment you because you’re not Their Idea of whatever you should be... it’s awful. Fuck it and fuck them.

Too many people have asked me “have you gotten your hormones checked?” when I tell them I’m AroAce, and I don’t feel like explaining that lack of sexual attraction =/= lack of sex drive and my sex life or lack thereof is so profoundly none of their business. Sometimes I wonder, maybe I DO have some kind of hormone issue. But I also could not give less of a shit! I don’t care because I’m happy in who I am and my gender/sexuality stuff. I don’t care if there’s something “wrong” with me by dumb medical standards from boring people who think I should have 3 kids by now and ask me things like “are your parents sad you aren’t giving them grandkids?” Well, my mom died 11 years ago and my dad told me a while ago that he “doesn’t think marriage and relationships are for [him]” so maybe he’s Aro too! Bottom line: who cares mind your own business

Anyways I guess the tl;dr is. I can’t wait until the warm weather comes back, so I can wear my super short slutty little dresses that people would love to tell me I’m too old to wear. Sorry, can’t hear you over all the compliments I’m getting on my sick-ass Wind Fish tattoo! And my legs look fuckin nice, hell yeah! They’re nice legs! I ride horses and have moderate muscle definition exclusively in my legs! WHOO!

Also if you ever compliment my appearance, my clothes, or anything about me, I will remember it absolutely forever, and you have no idea how much it means to me. If you’ve ever said I looked nice or I’m pretty or you love my outfit, I remember it and it is such an important memory for me.

[extremelyblackandwhite]

innocence - 02

PAIRING: bodyguard!bucky barnes x innocent actress!reader

WARNINGS: age gap

A/N: i’m still stunned at how many of you are enjoying this story. thank you so so much for your support. much love xx

NEXT CHAPTER

Bucky always woke up at 5AM and waking up at 5 AM was already considered a victory for him - to sleep through the night. Once the digital clock flashed 5 AM in electric red, his eyes were wide open, the sight of constant darkness being the only thing he could see. His routine was precise, as precise as time itself and it barely changed - gym then a dark cup of coffee followed by reading whatever coffee side table book Steve would linger around.

Y/N, unlike him, didn’t have a precise routine. She enjoyed routine but her mornings were always her own time, away from everything. On her free days she would try to wake up by at least 10. After she was fully awake she would turn on the TV in her bedroom and turn on the kettle for a nice tea. She would then lay in bed, surrounded by her blankets and dressed in an oversized cardigan while some random show played.

Bucky’s mornings were always filled with people coming in and out, that was life living in the Avengers headquarters. Some mornings he thought about moving into the apartment in Brooklyn but that would just upset Steve. Heck, he didn’t even know Bucky had bought the apartment, it had been an impulse buy and he would go there every week to check on it. However, Brooklyn wasn’t as close to Y/N’s in SoHo so he guessed he would stay. Y/N’s mornings on the other hand were quiet, too quiet. It was just her, just her in a two bedroom apartment in the middle of wealthy SoHo.

      - Morning, Buck. - Steve, like always, walked into the kitchen, coffee mug saying number one dad in hand. He always had this smile that Bucky couldn’t find the words, a smile that was almost glad that he was still alive yet pitiful. The pure look of someone who’s been burdened, a mother to a child’s look, one she didn’t want. - Excited for guarding your first client?

      - Feels more like guarding property. - he mumbled over the dark coffee, chugging it all before anymore questions could be asked. 

It shouldn’t be a hard day, he thought to himself, mostly looking after her if she decided to go out for anything. He had looked into her profile, she was an easy target. Almost always wearing heels, flowey clothing, things that wouldn’t help her if someone was after her. Anyway, looked like an easy job, easier than saving the world.

Meanwhile, Y/N was laid in the middle of her covers, remote in hand as she skimmed through the channels. Looking around she noticed the loneliness she was in, the empty walls decorated with her own choosing but still empty. No sounds, too quiet. 

She rose from the bed, big socks touching the cedar wood floor as she padded up to the kitchen. The agency had had everything decorated and the fridge stocked but as she opened the door she couldn’t find a single thing she wanted to eat. Disappointed, she closed the fridge, leaning against it to look at the rest of the flat. It was quiet, too quiet, filled with the sounds of quiet if that was even a physically possible thing. She let herself slide down the fridge front, sitting on the floor as she thought about what to do. She didn’t have her script yet, or at least more than two pages of it and going outside was the least thing she wanted to do today.

Y/N was about to fall asleep on the ground against her fridge, she heard footsteps. Quickly, she got onto her feet, rushing over to the door so fast she almost slipped. Pushing the peep hole away she put herself on her tippy toes to see if one of the neighbours was home.

     - Y/N, are you staring out the peep hole? - the person whose steps belonged too was definitely better than any neighbour. Quickly, she unlocked the door, pushing the metal that held it shut to the wall and opened it to see Bucky in a much more casual attire than before. Red henley with some loose dark jeans looked better in her opinion. - If you hear someone it’s always a terrible idea to use the peep hole. Almost always let’s them know someone’s in.

     - Then what are peep holes for? - Bucky playfully rolled his eyes but not before observing what she was wearing. She looked more comfortable. - Do you wanna come in? 

     - Miss Olson said I am to wait outside your door until you want to leave the apartment.

     - What if someone broke my window and took me?

     - Trust me, Y/N. I would know and would win that fight. 

     - You sure you don’t wanna come in? I could cook you some breakfast. Whatever you like. - she had that shine in her eyes, Bucky couldn’t explain it. He just knew it didn’t felt forced but she surely was nervous judging by the pushing of her oversized cardigan’s sleeve to cover her hand. - The agency filled my fridge with so much food I don’t know what to do with it.

     - I’m not a breakfast kind of person, Y/N.

     - Breakfast is the most important meal of the day. - her small hand came to rest over his wrist, pulling at it so he would go inside. He found it amusing how someone who was much shorter than him, head barely hitting his collarbones, would try to move him. Although, surprising wasn’t the fact that he moved but the fact that she touched him, she touched the Winter Soldier.

Bucky wasn’t a kid anymore, he wasn’t naive and he lacked Steve’s “all good” view of the world so he knew what people thought of him. They thought he had been of use but at the end of the day he had been the Winter Soldier for 70 years. They didn’t dare touch him but her she was inviting him into her home and touching him as if he were an old friend.

Once he got in, he immediately looked at everything. There were fake flowers everywhere in little glass jars, if they were broken and she were trying to escape she would get hurt, too many windows and not a lot of mirrored surfaces, people could look in. 

     - Would you like some pancakes? French toast? - her voice interrupted his inspection. - My mom was a cook, I can cook pretty much whatever you want. Can’t promise it will be as good as a cook’s but it’ll be edible.

     - You really don’t need to feed me, Y/N. - his gaze returned to her apartment, open doors everywhere.

     - I just thought ... since you’re going to be around a while we should be friendly with each other. - she looked down at her feet before looking up again, head slightly looking to the side. - I don’t know anyone in here, I didn’t even pick this apartment so I thought I would at least get to know you.

She felt ashamed, heat seemed to radiate from her cheeks to her whole body. Back at the theatre everyone knew each other, they all had show themed hoodies and would say hi whenever they came in and left but things in Hollywood were different. In her first movie she had made friends with only one cast member who still spoke to her but everyone else did their job and returned to their lives without a single hello. She thought that maybe knowing Bucky would make having someone constantly in her life a bit easier but she understood his position.

Bucky himself seemed to read that all on her face and as he did a thought popped into his head “they are gonna eat her alive”. 

     - Let’s try that French Toast. - she smiled at his answer, once again pulling his hand towards the kitchen. It was spacious for a SoHo flat, with cut edge technology and also a very visible knife set. He would have to tell her to put that somewhere else. 

She on the other hand quickly assembled all she needed, placing it on the marble countertop, a happy grin on her face as she started to prepare the meal. It reminded him of memories he had tried to suppress.

     - Mum’s a cook, why are you an actress? - those memories were still memories he wasn’t ready to get back and as such he reckoned speaking with her would keep it out. 

     - I don’t really know how to explain it. - she smiled, pulling a few hair strands behind her ear. - My mum took me to a musical after I didn’t get cast in the nativity play. It was Phantom of the Opera, I just remembered that chandelier rising and crashing and the energy of the performers. There was just ... that was time stopping and rushing at the same time. And the look on the performers faces as they finished a piece, god it was just, I had never seen and I don’t think I have ever seen such passion in someone’s face. 

Bucky moved his head ever so slightly, she seemed to be lost in her own memories, a daydream gaze washing over her features. He wondered what it was like to have memories to be proud of.

     - I’m sorry, I must sound like a sap. Why do you become a bodyguard?

     - I like a challenge.

     - That’s what you told me yesterday. - she placed a beautiful set plate in front of him. Beautiful things make beautiful things, that’s what his mother once told him. Maybe she was right.

     - What can I say, I’m not that interesting. 

     - I don’t know if that’s true. - she added a coffee cup to the French Toast, before pulling a chair. - You know, if I’m at home you don’t need to be outside my door, you can come in.

     - I wouldn’t want to intrude on your personal space.

     - It’s not really my personal space. The agency bought the flat and decorated it themselves so I guess it’s just the space I live in. I don’t really know the city yet so you’re mostly waiting outside for nothing. - she shrugged.

    - How long have you been in New York?

    - A little over 5 months. I was in California during my last movie and prior to that I was living in Haymarket in London. How long have you been in New York?

    - I was born in Brooklyn, about half hour away from here. Lived here my whole life ever since ... at least the part of it I could control.

Bucky waited to see that pity look, the one everyone in the team seemed to give them whenever they looked at him but she didn’t. She merely wrapped her hand around his, caring smile of someone who almost looked proud he existed or proud he was alive. They’re gonna eat her alive, he thought to himself once again.

    - Hey, you could show me around. - she suggested, jumping from the high chair onto the floor.

    - I don’t hang around SoHo, Y/N. 

    - Well, you could show me Brooklyn. Isn’t Coney Island in Brooklyn?

    - You wanna go to Coney Island? - he chuckled. - I don’t think your agency would enjoy that. Too public.

    - They don’t need to know. - she smirked playfully. - If you don’t tell them they won’t know.

    - You’re a celebrity, trust me you’ll be noticed. 

    - You said on your CV you were good at blending and disappearing into a crowd. Please, I’ll get you whatever you want in Coney Island.

    - Whatever I want? - he furrowed his eyebrows at her and she nodded. - Alright, Y/N.

taglist: @disasterbii @lookiamtrying @buckysteveloki-me @nsfwsebbie @americasass81 @jamesbarnesappreciationclub @lostinthebeans @mariahthelioness29 @buckyandsebastian @peaches-roses-sins @theadorasabditory @sipsteacasually @tonystankschild @saiyanprincessswanie @booktease21 @noiralei @learisa @everythingisoverrated @uglipotata72829 @naturalthrone22 @husherstan @mandiiblanche @vicmc624 @newyorkgoddess​ 

[courtney-deserved-better]

whats ur writing schedule/process like! not in a “write faster” way, but i think once you mentioned writing in script form? and i like the way you wrote ur most recent fic! just curious bc ur works are just really good :)

this is a great question!!

if its not slippery slopes, ill usually get an idea for something and periodically jot down notes when they come to me until I feel like i have enough information to start writing (or if im just motivated), that's what i did for my horror challenge rewrite. and for stuff that's like... rewrites of an episode that aren't as character-focused as slippery slopes, i usually read the episode transcripts and try to replicate that total drama style with my own writing

for shorter oneshots, i usually just get a vague idea and run with it until i find a good ending spot, then i go back and clean it up a bit so the structure works

slippery slopes is an... interesting cycle. chapters are getting long enough that i cant just write them in one sitting any more (i think ch5 was the last chapter i did that for) and instead ill agonize over the beginning (always the hardest part to write for me) but once i get going with that i usually finish the chapter within a few days. then i reread the previous chapter to make sure it flows ok (and there aren't any contradictions) and then ill give myself a break where i dont do anything total drama related before coming back to edit and post. though before I do all that I type up notes and rough dialogue bits

and then once i post it it's like... a weight off my chest? like ive been purged or something?? idk its a weird sensation but im just like i Physically Cannot Write Anything For This Right Now and i don't start on the next chapter until that goes away. and then i either start the beginning and do nothing for a week before going back and finishing the chapter or i go into a manic state and write nonstop for a few days. right now i haven't reached a point where im ready to begin writing chapter 10 but i have a lot of notes for it.

(also as soon as i finish posting a chapter i try not to go on my laptop for like 12 hours so i don't obsessively refresh my email for comments. i love reading comments so much holy shit. please comment guys it makes fic authors feel so happy we will love you for it)

as for scripts: i am working on being a writer professionally, but specifically a playwright. writing in a script format comes more naturally to me than writing prose. funnily enough, i started posting fanfic just to practice my prose (and fix stuff in cobra kai that i didnt like) but things sort of... ended up here? idk man but im enjoying it.

right, so because writing in a script format is easier when im really struggling with a section in a fic ill usually scrap whatever i had and write it like a script, then translate that into prose. i was very excited to write the family videos for chapter 9 of slippery slopes, but i was Having Issues, so i redid it as a script and then rewrote that as prose. ill put the script version under the cut if you're interested in that.

but thank you so much for the question!! i do think my writing process is a bit unconventional but hey i think things are turning out well! if you have any more questions feel free to send them in!!

ok here is the last scene of ch 9 of slippery slopes in script format:

[SIERRA]

MOM: Hi honey! Omigosh this is so exciting! I bet you’re having such a great time! Especially since Chris is there! Is Chris watching this? Hi Chris! You know, I loooved you on that ice skating show. Your hair was fantastic! Well, it always is, haha. Do you really make your own hair gel? I’ve been trying to perfect the recipe but you’re just so hard to track down! Oh, you’re such a funny guy! I laughed sooo hard when you made all those jokes about marrying Chef.

Chef: hey!

Chris: ok just for the record, I wasn’t joking, we are married, Sierra tell your mom we’re married

Sierra: …can we just turn it off please

[COURTNEY]

DAD: Courtney, sayang, I know you’ve been going through a lot right now—

MOM: So you’d BETTER make it count. You’ve made it this far before, I want to see you getting all the way to the finale this time. And winning it. Enough moping about those hideous, good-for-nothing slackers! That’s what you get for hanging around freaks like them. You’re doing this for the million, now get the million. Is that clear?

ZARINA: And kick ass!

DAD: Zarina!

Video cuts out.

Alejandro: courtney you good?

Courtney: no, she’s right. Mama didn’t raise no quitter

Alejandro: [knows she’s still upset about duncan and gwen]

[ALEJANDRO]

MOM: Hola, Alejandro. We hope you are doing well, especially in such unsavory conditions. I’m glad to see you’ve made it to the final four— we expected nothing less, of course.

DAD: You have been utilizing your skills quite well. Though I wish you hadn’t been so… blatant about it. You’ll have to work twice as hard once this is over to convince people you’re trustworthy. But surely you were aware of that going into this… odd endeavor. That’s just politics. Reputation is everything.

JOSE: [snorts] Oh, and what a reputation you have, Al. I could easily compile hours of footage of your failures, but I, unlike you, do not waste my time on the frivolities of reality television. Though you always have been lacking in taste. Especially with that bratty girlfriend of yours— oh, my mistake, aren’t you dating the whiny weakling? It’s so hard to keep track! [laughs]

Alejandro: callate!

MOM: I’m sure Alejandro is just working an angle on them.

DAD: Whatever the case is, do not disappoint us.

[NOAH]

MOM: Hi Noah, I’m sorry, I don’t have time to record a full video, but I’m proud of you! Here are your sisters!

ISWARI: A million dollars? A million [bleep] dollars? Win it, Noah! Win it!

RUTH: Dude!! This is crazy! I know you can do this— good luck! Ark misses you! [holds up Ark who barks]

MARA: Are you insane? Why aren’t you dating Alejandro already?

Noah: shut up, mara, just because you can’t keep a boyfriend—

ANYA: Don’t let ‘em trick you! No mercy! Crush their skulls if you have to— no, wait, you’re not strong enough for that. We’ll get there!

LIYA: I say this as your sister, someone who loves you but is constantly annoyed by you— for someone who is quite literally a genius, you sure can be an idiot sometimes.

BALLARI: Okay, I literally have no idea how you’ve made it this far without an athletic bone in your body— are we sure you aren’t adopted? I’m kidding

ABS: You’re stubborn as hell when it comes to me, so you better be stubborn as hell when it comes to winning! And when you do win, get me a frozen yogurt machine, will you? I promise I won’t make you rock climb again!

JAEL: If you lose this, I’ll kill you with this racket. And then use your guts to make myself a new racket. So don’t fuck it up. Again.

Noah: [frozen, ashamed]

Sierra: well that was a mess

Courtney: ok show of hands, who felt better after hearing that? [no one raises hands]

Chris: yeah I was expecting this to be a lot more heartwarming…

Chef: chris just look at them. If they had stable home lives they wouldn’t be doing reality tv

Alejandro: can we please stop talking about this. Also aren’t you supposed to be flying the plane

Chef: oh fuck

Chris: yeah sure. I think im gonna call my mom

Everyone: …

Noah: ok so that was really shitty. Why dont we all go to first class and try and ignore our problems

Everyone: yeah ok sounds good

***

Courtney: so that sucked

Alejandro: at least your dad seems ok

Courtney: true. What are your guys dads like

Noah and Sierra: bold of you to assume I know my dad. Jinx

***

Alejandro: that last girl… you mentioned a sister who does tennis and hates you

Noah: yep

Alejandro: why?

Noah: none of your business. but… it is pretty justified

[stylesberries]

Wooden Floor

Summary: Reuniting with Harry after being apart during the quarantine made you realize something.

Genre(s): mostly fluff with a sprinkle of angst

Word Count: 1.2k

Warning(s): none

I was standing in the kitchen at 6 p.m still wearing my pajamas. As the quarantine started, my daily routine was quickly thrown out of the window and replaced by this. Well, whatever it is. Pajamas is the only thing I wear now, as I rarely leave the house or have to face a human being. Speaking about facing human beings. More precisely my favorite of them - Harry, my boyfriend.

I haven’t seen him for a bit over two months now, and I think I’m going insane. Having dated him for a year and a half, I was completely and utterly in love. You know, that kind of love they try their best to describe in books? Yeah, that kind of love.

Harry would FaceTime me multiple times a day, in the morning, before going to sleep and sometimes during the day. Despite the fact that he was stuck in Los Angeles, and we had to come up with a schedule to be able to talk with an 8-hour time difference, we would still find a way to make it work. However, it would never be enough for me.

As long as I can remember, I’ve always been a lover. I would love too much and trust too much. I would always end up hurting over people that just kept torturing me with their indifference.

When I met Harry, and we started dating, I promised myself to give him space and not suffocate him with my love, for I was scared, that he would leave me like everyone before him did.

I had never been loved so much. I had never experienced what I gave people myself. The endless love and loyalty. Harry gave me his all, and I started feeling bad for not showing all of the love I had for him, and yet I still feared losing him because of my obsessive nature.

I sat at the kitchen table and scrolled through our texts with Harry.

Harry: Jeff is talking to people, trying to get me a private jet flight to London.

Y/N: That’s great, love. I hope he comes up with something. I can imagine how much you’ve missed family. Anne is talking about you the all the time. She’s devastated that you didn’t get to come home.

Harry: I am upset too, baby.

Harry: Mom says you’ve been in a gloomy mood. Is something wrong?

Y/N: It’s just quarantine. Don’t worry about it, lovie.

It wasn’t “just quarantine”. I just fucking miss him. To the point where I cannot properly function without him around. I sound sick.

Harry: When I get back home to you, we’ll find a way to get my baby back in a good mood, yeah?

You just get back home and everything will be fine.

Y/N: Okay, baby.

He hasn’t answered yet. Probably fell asleep. I text one more time just to check.

Y/N: H?

Yup. Sleeping. Now he’s gonna wake up and think that I can’t be without him for a second. Great.

If he’s coming soon, I have to make sure that I don’t freak out too much or he’ll think that I’m obsessed.

That evening was spent overthinking in the bed, a mug of my favorite hot chocolate and some random movie that I played in the background to keep me company.

I was awoken by a loud thud coming from downstairs. Who the hell is in the house?

I quickly get out of bed and look around for something heavy I could use as self-defense. Let me just say, looking for something specific in the dark, two minutes after you woke up isn’t the easiest thing I’ve done in my life.

As I begin to lose hopes to find anything to protect myself with, I catch my metal horse statue glimmering in the dark. Perfect.

I grab the heavy statue and tip-toe my way out of the bedroom.

I stood at the top of the staircase and looked around, listening closely to any sound indicating where the intruder might be.

Hearing clatter coming from the kitchen, I slowly make my way down the stairs, making sure that the statue is up and ready to make a hit.

As I come closer to the kitchen doorway, I can now see faint illumination coming from the downlights on the ceiling.

The next thing I know is the metal horse falls from my hands and probably leaves a dent in the wooden floor.

No matter how sleepy I am and no matter how dark it is, I could recognize this faint scent of vanilla lingering around me and this breathing pattern anywhere. Harry is home.

As the metal horse touched the floor I hear the clattering abruptly end, being replaced with loud footsteps. The sound of which I know too well.

“Y/N? Angel, why are you up? It’s so late. As soon as Jeff told me I could fly out, I took the earliest flight home. I was going to surprise you, baby. I’m sorry I didn’t mean t’wake you. Fuck. I’ve missed you so much.” He rambled cutting the distance between us shorter and shorter. I looked up at him and I couldn’t believe my eyes.

He’s home.

“Hey, hey, baby, no. Please don’t cry, bubby... C’mere.” He cooed as he wrapped his arms around me.

Only now I’ve noticed the warm drops making their way down my cheeks, as I stared at the man I loved so dearly.

The plan I came up with was long forgotten, and the only thing I wanted to do was to cling on to Harry and just breathe him in.

“My angel. M’beautiful. Everything’s okay now, yeah? I can’t believe you’re back in my arms. Y’know it’s the only thing I could think about in these two months? I couldn’t work properly without having my muse by my side.” Harry kept kissing the the top of my head, as he swayed us from side to side.

I squeezed my arm in between us to wide my tears away to look at Harry properly. He took a step away to let my eyes absorb him.

“It was more than two months.” I look into his emerald eyes that I’ve missed so much.

“72 days and-” He pulls his phone out of his back pocket and looks at the time. I stood in shock, taking a glance at the screen of his phone. It was in the British Summer Time zone.

Knowing Harry for over two years, I know that he doesn’t change his time for about a week after he lands in a new place, because he keeps forgetting to do so. Does this mean he’s had London time on his phone the whole time?

“4 hours and 23 minutes.” He announced to me and looked into my eyes, that were filled with doubt and insecurities, with his - full of love and adoration. His eyes stared into mine, as if assuring me “Yes, I fucking love you, stupid”.

Now the only thing I had left to worry about was the dent in the wooden floor.

© all right belong to stylesberries. do not repost or modify.

[inkjam-moon]

Code of Silence Ch 6 - The Set Up (M)

Genre: Mafia AU, light fluff, smut

Member: Min Yoongi

Word Count: 6.4K

TW: swearing, mafia talk, hospital talk, blood mention, sex talk, blowjob mention, shooting, death mention, stitches mention, tiny argument, riding, fingering, breast play, accidental creampie

.

.

“Yoongi cut it out.” You giggle as Yoongi’s lips ravage your neck, his hands sliding all along your body until they land on your ass, squeezing it roughly. He’s had you pinned against the door to his office for the last five minutes, his hips pressing against you so you can feel just how hard he is, the feeling driving you insane with want.

“You still haven’t answered me.” He growls. “Where were you this morning? I rolled over to say good morning only to find the bed empty.” He lightly nips at your collarbone.

“I told you.” You gasp. “I had to help Taehyung and his mom this morning.”

“Is Taehyung so important you couldn’t say goodbye?” He whines.

“It’s the first full night of sleep you’ve gotten in a week.” You chide, pushing on his chest to stop him for a moment. “So yes. I didn’t want to wake you.”

“Next time wake me.” He pouts. “I don’t need sleep.”

You roll your eyes at him. “Yes you do. Otherwise you get grumpy.”

“Grumpy?” He scoffs. “What am I? Five?”

“Why do you think we haven’t had sex all week?” You grumble, crossing your arms over your chest. 

“Now who’s grumpy?”

You open your mouth to retort, but before you can say anything, there’s a knock on the door that you’re pressed against.

“What is it?” Yoongi barks, clearly upset at being interrupted.

“Boss? Um, we’ve got some intel that a couple boys from Busan are at the south docks. Do you want us to send someone out?”

“Shit…” Yoongi sighs, resting his forehead against your shoulder. “How many?”

“Just two or three.” You can tell from the voice now that it’s Namjoon.

“Alright. Get five ready, I’ll be out in a second.”

“Got it.” Namjoon states before you hear his footsteps disappearing.

“Sorry baby.” Yoongi presses a kiss to your shoulder. “This is going to have to wait a bit.”

“Yoongi,” You grab him by the lapels of his jacket as he turns to leave, stopping him. “Be careful.”

He smiles and cups your cheek. “It’s just a check. I’ll be home before dinner, alright?” You nod and let him go, watching as he goes over to his desk and grabs his gun, hiding it in the holster under his jacket before walking back over to you and placing a kiss on your lips. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Soon.” You nod. Stepping out of the way and watching Yoongi walk out the door and down the hallway, disappearing down the stairs. Soon. It’s his promise, it has been in the month since you started sleeping together.

Since you and Yoongi are closer than ever, you can’t help but worry every time he goes out on patrols or checks; with Busan encroaching farther into Daegu territory, it gets more and more dangerous every time he goes out. You don’t like saying goodbye when he leaves; there’s too much finality to the word; so he started promising to ‘see you soon’, letting you gain comfort in the thought that he promises to return to you, safe and sound.

You sigh as you lean against the door frame before heading over to Yoongi’s desk and grabbing your bag off his chair where he threw it as soon as you walked in the door. You can’t lie, the lack of intimacy in the last week or so has gotten to you too; having become accustomed to sleeping with Yoongi three or four times a week minimum, the lengthy absence is driving you mad with an unquenchable thirst, an overwhelming desire to be touched, but because Busan is trying harder to creep in, Yoongi is out more, sleeping less, and hardly around the house or his office. You miss him. 

You close the door to Yoongi’s office behind you and lock it as a familiar face pops it’s head around the corner of the stairs. 

“Y/N! Just who I was looking for.”

“Tae, you saw me this morning.” You remind him as you walk toward him. 

“I know.” He nods. “But I have news I didn’t have this morning.”

“You can tell me on the way to the car. I have to get home and start dinner.”

Taehyung sighs. “Doll, you know he’s probably not going to be home in time. I just saw them all leave, seemed pretty serious.”

You shake your head as you reach the bottom of the stairs and head over to the bar, checking sales as Taehyung comes up behind you. “He promised me it was just a check.”

“So were the last three…” Taehyung reminds you, making your heart sink in your chest.

“Taehyung.” You growl, alerting him to stop before he pisses you off. You hate to admit it, but he’s right. It always turns into something bigger, more urgent.

“Alright alright fine. This isn’t about you anyway, it’s about me.” He huffs crossing his arms as you say goodnight to the staff and make your way through the kitchen and out the back door. 

“What is it Tae?”

“I’d like to formally invite you and Yoongi out to dinner tomorrow night.”

Your brow furrows in confusion. “Did I forget something? It’s not December, so it can’t be your birthday.” Taehyung shakes his head, a wide grin scrunching up his face. He looks like he’s about to burst. “Do I have to guess?”

“I want you guys to meet my new boyfriend!” Taehyung squeals.

“New- Oh my god!” You squeak, clapping your hands in excitement. “What the fuck, why didn’t you tell me this morning?” You ask, smacking him on the arm. 

“I wanted to make sure it was okay with him! We’ve only been together for a month or so, but I asked him this afternoon if it was okay to tell you and he said he wanted to meet you!”

“Aw Tae!” You grab him and pull him into a tight hug. “I’m so happy for you. Of course we’ll have dinner with you. Why don’t the two of you come over to our place?” You pull back and see Taehyung’s eyes sparkling. You haven’t seen him this happy in a long time.

“You’re the best doll. Wanna say… Seven?”

“Seven sounds perfect.” You smile back at him.

“Alright, um… Do you want some company tonight?” Taehyung asks, worry written on his face as he looks at you.

You can’t help but smile at him. “Why not? The least you can do is distract me.” You state, unlocking the car. “Hop in.”

Taehyung grins widely as you both jump into your car before you pull out of the parking lot and out onto the street making the drive back to your apartment. When you arrive, you shut the car off and you both get out, making your way up the walk, into the building, and up to your apartment. 

“I’m going to go change, do you want to see what we have in the fridge?” You ask, walking over to Yoongi’s room.

“I’m on it!” Taehyung cheers as you disappear into the room.

You change into a pair of shorts and one of Yoongi’s old sweatshirts that he never wears anymore. You don’t think you’ve seen him wear comfy clothes since you got married, just a lot of stuffy suits and dress clothes. You remember when you first met; all he wore were sweatshirts and jeans. You shrug as you grab a hair tie and pull your hair into a messy bun as you walk back out to the kitchen, seeing Taehyung has already turned on the stove and is chopping something on a cutting board. You decide to voice your observation to Taehyung as you flick on the tv for background noise.

“Do you ever notice that Yoongi never wears anything except suits and dress clothes?”

“I’m sure you’ve seen him in less.” Taehyung smirks.

You smack his arm as you walk up to him and lean against the counter next to him. “I’m serious. I don’t think I ever see him in just a t-shirt and jeans anymore. Honestly, I don’t even know if he still owns jeans…”

“Of course he’s always dressed up.” Taehyung laughs, handing you the knife in his hand. “Here, chop.” You move to stand where Taehyung was and start slicing up vegetables for him as he continues, moving to heat up a pan on the stove and turning on the rice cooker. “Think of his job doll. Do you think people would take him seriously in a t-shirt and jeans? Your dad taught him better than that. It comes with the title.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” You ponder the thought for a few moments as you continue chopping before changing the subject. “So, tell me about this boyfriend.”

“You’re going to meet him tomorrow.” Taehyung grins, a light blush dusting his cheeks.

“Excuse me. I need to know details!” You exclaim, grabbing the pork belly and laying it in the hot pan with a bit of oil. “Where did you meet?”

“Uncle Min’s party actually.”

“Really? Do I know him?”

“I don’t think so. He’s not in the family, I think he just happened to be there that night.”

You nod as you listen, adding the vegetables to their own pan. “So what’s his name?”

“Jimin. Park Jimin.” Even though your back is toward Taehyung, you can hear the smile in his voice.

“And do I get to see a picture of the mysterious Jimin?”

“Mm.” Taehyung searches his pockets for his phone, pulling it out once he locates it, and scrolls through his photos until he finds the one he’s looking for. He holds it up for you to see and you smile. It’s a picture of Taehyung with his eyes closed, his nose pressed against the cheek of an attractive boy with plump lips and an adorable eye smile.

“Aw, Tae you look so happy. He’s cute too.”

“Isn’t he?”

“So tell me more about him.”

“Um… He’s a few months older than me, but he’s a lot shorter. He likes to dance and is part of some contemporary group thing. His laugh sounds like an angel’s, he’s got deliciously thick thighs, ugh…” He trails off, taking the food off the stove and placing it on the plates you took out.

“And since I know you’d ask me this, what’s he got between those thick thighs?” You tease.

“Oh come on doll, it’s not like that.” He giggles.

“Don’t lie to me in my own house Tae.”

“Well,” He blushes harder. “We haven’t gone all the way yet, but let’s just say it’s a monster and I’m glad he’s a bottom.”

You can’t help but laugh. “Thick thighs don’t lie.”

“I’m telling you, this thing is huge. I could barely get my mouth around it.”

“And that’s an image I definitely didn’t need.” You smack Taehyung’s chest, grabbing the plates and setting them on the table before walking over to the fridge to grab drinks. As you grab a bottle of wine, you hear the newswoman say ‘breaking news’ and can’t help but tune your ears to listen.

“Shots fired at the southern docks, leaving three dead.”

The bottle falls from your hand and crashes to the floor, shattering to pieces as you walk over to the tv and turn it up.

“Police are currently investigating a shooting at Daegu’s southern docks that happened only moments ago. Our field reporter Woo Chisun is on the scene. Chisun?”

The video cuts to the on scene reporter as you feel Taehyung kneel down next to you and wrap his arm around your shoulders, holding you tight.

“Thank you Hae Im. Police responded to a civilian 911 call stating that they heard shots fired at the southern docks. Witnesses say they heard a loud argument before at least ten shots were fired in quick succession, followed by the sound of tires squealing. Though the deceased have not yet been identified, we do know that there are at least three victims, and several blood trails that suggest one or more of the assailants may be wounded. With no leads on any suspects, we can’t help but wonder; will Daegu sleep safely tonight?”

.

Yoongi steps out of the car and pulls out his gun to check the rounds in his magazine before clicking it back into place. "So how many are supposed to be here?" He asks.

"Just three, boss."

"Alright." Yoongi stops and turns to face the group. "Joon, Big Kim, I want you on the left. Ji Ho, Dad, on the right. Jin, you're with me. Let's get some eyes on them, see what they're up to first. Then we'll go in and get them off of our turf."

"Hell yeah."

"Let's do it."

The rest of the men voice their agreement. "Alright. Remember, keep it quiet, keep it low, you know the signal. Let's go."

They split up and head down separately through the maze of cargo containers, Jin following closely behind Yoongi as they sneak along the path, ducking around corners to check for intruders. They finally make it up to the marina, not having seen anyone else so far. Yoongi turns to Jin, but before he can signal to him, he hears a sudden commotion and then the sound of gunshots.

"Yoongi!"

That sounded like Namjoon. Shit. Yoongi turns the corner to investigate and sees the cause, a piece of shit with a gun, aiming to his right where Namjoon and Big Kim are located.

"These mother fuckers." Yoongi grunts, aiming his sights, and then pulling the trigger, quickly incapacitating the Busan gunner, but mere seconds after Yoongi pulls the trigger he feels an unbearable pain in his side. "Ah, fuck!" Yoongi clutches his abdomen as he leans against the cargo container.

"Boss!" Seokjin yells, immediately taking out the gunner on top of the container that shot Yoongi. "Shit, hang in there Yoongi." He crouches down beside Yoongi. "We've got one out of the nest!" Seokjin yells to no one in particular. There are a few more gunshots before everything goes quiet.

"Seokjin?" Someone calls.

"Over here!" Seokjin responds. It's a few seconds before Min rounds the corner.

"Shit. Yoongi." Min crouches down beside his son. "We've gotta get out of here, this place will be crawling with cops in a few minutes. where were you hit?" He turns to Yoongi.

Yoongi reveals his bloody abdomen, wincing. "H-here."

"That looks bad." Namjoon states, leaning over his brother's shoulder.

"Namjoon, call the hospital; Seokjin, get the car; Kim, help me get him."

Big Kim and Min both scoop up Yoongi, but as they get him to his feet , Yoongi collapses.

"Yoongi!"

.

“Y/N, breathe.” You let out the shaky breath you didn’t realize you were holding as tears fall from your eyes. “Let me call and see what’s going on. Stay here.”

You can’t move, you can hardly force your lungs to keep breathing. Your mind is blank and whirring with static until it lands on one singular thought: Yoongi. You lunge for the coffee table where you left your phone earlier and immediately press his name. It rings. It rings forever until you get his answering machine. You hang up and try again, and again, and again to no avail. You don’t realize it but you’re quietly chanting Yoongi’s name, over and over to yourself as you try to reach him.

“Shit…” You hear Taehyung next to you. “I… I can’t get a hold of anyone.”

“Yoongi… Yoongi… Yoongi… Yoongi…” You mumble to yourself, dialing and redialing his number, getting his voicemail every time until Taehyung squats next to you and grabs your shoulders.

“Doll, look at me.” You ignore him, trying to grab your phone which he knocked out of your hand. “Y/N… Y/N!” Taehyung snaps, shaking you.

“I can’t- I can’t go through this again Tae. I can’t do this again. I can’t lose him too. I can’t… I can’t lose him!!” You burst, tears now flooding your vision as Taehyung pulls you flush against his chest. 

“It’s not him. It’s not, it can’t be. He’s okay Y/N-ah, he’s going to be okay. I promise.”

“I can’t lose him too…” You whimper, hyperventilating as Taehyung holds you close. The two of you stay like this for what feels like mere seconds, but it’s been an hour, and you still haven’t heard anything, not even from the tv. You cry into Taehyung’s chest as he shushes and attempts to soothe you until you hear a buzzing. Taehyung’s phone. He grabs it off the couch and answers it.

“Hello? Yeah I’m with her… Got it. We’ll be there in ten.” He hangs up and stands, lifting you to your feet and you wince, falling back on the couch, looking down at your feet to see them all cut up and bloodied from the shattered wine bottle. Taehyung shoves his phone in his pocket and then lifts you up bridal style, grabbing your keys and then carrying you out the door and down to your car. He places you in the passenger seat before shutting the door and then climbing into the driver’s seat, quickly pulling out of the parking lot and speeding towards the center of town.

You want to ask what’s going on, but you can’t speak. You can only sniffle. Taehyung wouldn’t answer anyway, he’s too focused on driving, and in a matter of minutes you arrive at your destination. The hospital.

He parks around back, getting out and picking you back up, carrying you in the ambulance entrance where Big Kim is waiting for you.

“Is she okay?” He asks when he sees you’re being carried. 

“She’s got glass in her feet and she’s pretty shaken. She might be in shock. Where is he?”

“Come with me.” Big Kim takes you out of Taehyung’s arms and carries you over to a back elevator with Taehyung close behind. You all get in and it takes you up to the third floor where he walks you down a long empty hallway to the back wing of the hospital where all of the private rooms are located. He brings you into room 337, the same room where your father died, and you see Yoongi lying in a hospital bed, unconscious, covered in bruises and bandages. “He just got out of surgery.” Big Kim states, placing you in the chair next to Yoongi’s bed. 

“What happened?” You ask, scooting as close as you can to Yoongi and grabbing hold of his hand.

“Busan.” Uncle Min’s voice comes into the room. “We were ambushed at the docks. It was all a set up.” He walks over to you and puts a hand on your shoulder as he squats down in front of you. “Breathe joka, he’s going to be okay.” He nods, looking over at Big Kim he adds, “Go find a nurse for me,” before turning back to you. “Yoongi took a bad hit, because something blew his cover, but it missed all of his major organs and muscles, he’s going to make a full recovery.” A weight seems to lift off your shoulders at Min’s words. “And except for Yoongi, no one got hit.”

Just then, a familiar face walks into the room, it’s Hye Soo. “Y/N, I was wondering when you’d get here.” She greets you warmly.

“Hye Soo, I think our girl here might be in shock, and her feet are cut up pretty badly, would you mind taking a look?” Min asks.

“Of course.” Hye Soo grabs some supplies from the cabinet in the room before walking over to you. She does a basic check on you; blood pressure, pulse, oxygen level; before putting an IV in your arm and hooking you up to a bag of fluids as well as injecting a relaxant into your IV before moving onto your feet; cleaning them, removing the glass shards, and then bandaging them. She talks to Min the entire time, knowing that the only thing you’re focused on right now is Yoongi.

He’s so still, so calm, he’s never this motionless in his sleep, so they must have him on some heavy sedatives. You bring his hand up to your mouth and close your eyes, placing a kiss against his fingers. After a few minutes you and Hye Soo are the only ones left in the room as she finishes bandaging you up. 

“I didn’t want you to get hurt. Why does everyone close to me always get hurt…?” You whisper against Yoongi's hand. 

“Don’t blame yourself.” Hye Soo states as she stands. “Yoongi chose this life. He knew what was at stake. He knows the risks and he’s willing to take them. It’s not your fault. Besides, he’ll be up soon. It’s mostly artificial.” You only nod to show you heard her before she pats you on the head and leaves you alone with Yoongi.

You know that. You know he’s going to wake up. You understand what she’s trying to say, but the more you sit here, the more you realize that Taehyung and Yoongi are the only things in the world that you have left; and to see either one of them hurt, artificial or not, shatters you into pieces.

Silent tears slip down your cheeks as you clutch Yoongi’s hand between both of yours, your forehead pressed against your hands as you mumble to him. “I never wanted you to get hurt… I’m so sorry… It should be me…”

“Y... Y/N…” Yoongi mumbles, causing your head to bolt upright. “Y/N-ah…?” His eyes flutter open and slowly focus on you.

“Yoongi…” You gasp, elated beyond words at the sight of his beautiful brown eyes staring back at you. 

The corners of his mouth turn up in the smallest smile as he sighs deeply. “Did I miss dinner?”

A choked laugh comes from your throat as you release his hand and wipe your tears away. “Just by a few hours.”

“Damn. I was really looking forward to it too.” He grimaces as he attempts to sit up, but it’s obviously too painful for him. 

“Yoongi-”

“I’m alright.” He states, laying back down against the pillows before he reaches out to take hold of your hand, squeezing it tightly. “Why the tears?” He asks, concern in his eyes.

You reach your unoccupied hand up to your cheeks to feel the wetness of tears on your cheeks again. You hadn’t even realized you were doing it. “I’m just happy you’re okay.” You mumble, wiping the tears away.

“I’m not going anywhere jagiya.” Yoongi whispers. Your heart races at the pet name and you’re thankful Yoongi’s eyes are shut again so he can’t see the hot blush on your cheeks. “They’re going to have to try harder than that.” He smirks.

.

Three days later, Yoongi is allowed to return home on the condition that he takes the rest of the week off to rest and heal and Yoongi agreed; although, you believe he would’ve said anything to get out of the hospital.

You and Taehyung help Yoongi up to the apartment before Taehyung says goodnight to go on a date with Jimin. You wave goodbye and shut the door, helping Yoongi over to the couch to get him settled before walking over to the kitchen to get his medications sorted out for the next few days. Yoongi’s father agreed to watch over things until Yoongi gets back on his feet, so the two of you can relax for a few days until Yoongi gets restless, which you know he will; he can’t stay away from work for too long.

“Y/N-ah?” Yoongi calls to you, interrupting your thoughts.

“Hm?” You turn to face him to see him watching you intently.

“Can you help me up so I can take a shower? I need to wash off this hospital funk.”

“O-oh, sure.” You nod, putting down the last bottle of medicine before walking over to him and helping him to his feet. He can walk on his own well enough, it’s the getting up and sitting down part that he’s not great at because it still hurts his abdomen. With one arm around his waist, you walk him into his room and then into the bathroom and start the shower, turning to see him standing there a bit awkwardly.

“Would you um…” His cheeks turn pink as he speaks. “Can you- I still can’t lift my arms well… Would you mind?” He tugs at his clothes.

“Right, of course.” You giggle as you walk over to him, wondering why he’s suddenly so shy. You very carefully lift Yoongi’s shirt up off his body and deposit it on the floor, but when you go to reach for his belt, you stop, coming face to face with the sight of his injury for the first time.

You can’t help but stare; the way his beautiful pale skin is puckered and pink around the stitches, still tender by the way his abdomen flexes as you brush your thumb against his hip, not even touching the wound.

“It’s hideous.” Yoongi states, catching sight of himself in the mirror and walking closer to inspect.

You shake your head, walking up behind him and placing your hands on his shoulders. “It’s you.” He smiles at your words in the reflection and the two of you stand like that for a moment before you shake your head again. “Come on, you’re wasting hot water.” You scold as he turns to face you. You grab his belt again and move to undo it when he stops your hands, grabbing your face and pulling you towards him for a soft kiss. 

“I think I can take it from here.” He mumbles against your lips, making you giggle. 

“Right, I forgot. ‘No unnecessary exercise’.” You quote the doctor’s words. “I’ll go start dinner. Yell if you need me, yeah?”

“Of course.” Yoongi kisses you once more before letting you go, watching you walk out of the bathroom and shut the door behind you. Yoongi’s doctor tried very politely to tell you no sex until Yoongi was better, but didn’t want to say it in front of Yoongi’s mother, so he just said ‘no unnecessary exercise’ and then winked as if your mother-in-law was clueless.

You head back to the kitchen and take one of your own prescribed pain medications for your feet; while the scrapes have mostly healed, they’re still a bit tender to walk on; and then you start dinner. You don’t make anything special, just some jjapaguri with steak; you’re honestly too tired to do anything else. Even though you haven’t been doing much at the hospital, just being there has taken so much energy out of you.

Just as you’re filling two bowls up with the delicious noodles and meat, you hear footsteps coming out of Yoongi’s room. Perfect timing. You grab the bowls and some chopsticks and meet Yoongi in front of the couch, placing the bowls on the coffee table before helping him sit down. He nods gratefully as he accepts the help and then the warm dinner you hold out to him before you grab your own bowl and take your normal seat on the other side of the loveseat. You flick the tv on and the two of you sit in silence as you watch reruns of an old game show.

As you slurp up your dinner, you can’t help but feel an awkwardness in the air. Since sex is off the table, it’s as though the two of you are back to square one; two strangers stuck in an arranged marriage, neither one knowing how to act around the other. You thought you were making progress with Yoongi, but maybe you really weren’t? Was sex actually making it harder for you to get closer to him? Have you even had an actual conversation since the two of you started fucking? Is sex all he wanted? Was that the whole reason he tried to get close to you? Maybe he actually cares… Are you overthinking it?

You don’t realize how far you’ve zoned out until Yoongi gently squeezes your arm, snapping you back to the present.

“You alright?” He asks.

“Y-yeah.” You nod, shrugging him off. “Just… thinking about some stuff.”

Yoongi seems concerned, but he doesn’t press the matter. “I’m here if you want to talk.” He assures you. You nod and go back to your noodles. 

When you’re both finished eating, you take your dishes to the kitchen and clean up after yourself before heading back over to the couch. Yoongi pats the cushion closest to him and you can’t help but smile, taking a seat on his good side as he wraps his arm around your shoulder, pulling you close. After a few moments you hear him inhale deeply and look up to see what he’s doing.

“You smell good.” He shrugs. 

“Thanks? I showered this morning.”

“I missed the way you smell. Smells so much better than hospital.”

“Most things smell better than the hospital." You giggle when he inhales again.

"Just let me enjoy this please?" He asks. You simply nod as Yoongi buries his nose in your hair, smiling against you as he does.

.

It's been four days since Yoongi came home from the hospital, and just as you expected, he's as restless as ever. He's constantly pacing around the apartment on the phone with various people from work who all tell him the same thing: "Get some rest boss". The only person who updates him is his father, and even Min is tired of Yoongi's phone calls , frequently ending them with "Go relax" even though he knows Yoongi will call him again in an hour.

The last time Yoongi called him, he only said "Go spend time with your wife" before immediately hanging up. So here you are, trying to watch a movie while tension radiates off Yoongi in waves. You've tried everything to calm him down; board games, video games, movies, relaxing baths, cooking , baking; but so far, nothing has worked. He's just so unbelievably wound up and you feel like there's nothing you can do.

You sigh as you get up , walking over to the kitchen to get a bottle of water from the fridge.

"Yoongi, do you want anything?" You ask as you hold the fridge door open.

"I want to go back to work."

"I meant to drink." You grumble.

"No."

You shut the door, albeit, a bit aggressively, before walking back over to the couch and flopping yourself down on it. "So how much longer are you going to be an asshole? Because I can just leave if you want."

Yoongi sighs this time, grabbing your arm. "Don't go. I'm sorry. I'm just... I'm so frustrated."

"No kidding." You scoff, unintentionally reverting Yoongi back into irritated silence. You turn to face him. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"I should be in Busan right now, fucking up those pricks for what they did!"

"So you can get shot again? I don't think so."

"Then what am I supposed to do? Let it go?"

"No." You shake your head. "You make a plan. Before you go in there guns blazing and make a mistake. You need a plan."

"A plan..." Yoongi ponders this.

You nod. "They set you up, so you figure out how to give it right back to them. Like you always do."

"What do you suggest?" Yoongi inquires.

You think for a moment. "How about a seizure?" Yoongi's eyebrows quirk up in obvious interest, asking you to continue. "We know drugs are their main export, so we get in there and we either take it and dump it, or we make it unusable. I remember abeoji talking about when he did it once. It pissed them off, but they were quiet for a long time so they could rebuild their stock and pay off their debts."

"Y/N-ah... You're a genius." Yoongi smiles for the first time in days. "But how do we get information?" He rubs his chin in thought.

"We send someone in."

Yoongi's eyes snap back up to meet yours. "What?" He asks in disbelief.

"We have to infiltrate, to get someone in there to give us information. It's the only way."

"Unfortunately, I think you're right." Yoongi agrees. "I'll make some calls-"

"Ah!" You push Yoongi back against the couch when he tries to get up. "You go back to work in two days. It can wait." You chide.

"Y/N, I-"

"No." You shake your head. "Just think about it for now. Get it figured out in your head first, then you can start organizing it when you get to work Tuesday."

Yoongi smirks. "You know you're just like him."

Yoongi's comment catches you off guard. "W-What?"

"Especially when you're scolding me. You have the same tone." He chuckles softly, squeezing your side as he scoots closer and puts his arm around your waist. "I'm sorry for being unbearable this week." He mumbles, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

"Unbearable is putting it lightly." You tease.

"Mm." Another kiss. "And yet you kept me around."

"I couldn't just throw you out. You're injured. Which reminds me, if you ever get shot again? I'll shoot you."

Yoongi sighs with a soft laugh as he rests his forehead against your temple. "What I wouldn't give to be able to actually move again."

"You don't need to move, you've been pushing it as is." You scold once more. Suddenly Yoongi tilts your face toward him and this time, places a kiss on your lips, making you giggle. "What was that?"

"Every time you scold me I'm going to kiss you to make you stop."

"Oh is that so?" You ask. He nods. "Well it's true, you need to re-" A kiss. "It's the doctor's orders-" Another. "At least until you get your stitches-" One more, except this time his lips don't leave you, they stay pressed against yours.

It isn't long after that he tilts his head, deepening the kiss. After a few more moments, his tongue flicks out against your lips, but you hesitate. 

“Yoongi, your doctor said-“

“I don’t care.” His lips find yours again and this time you give in.

Having not done anything for two weeks makes you feel a bit more desperate than usual, and you quickly become a bit aggressive, pushing back at his tongue with your own as you lace your hands in his hair and tug on it.

"Ah~" He whimpers. "Not so hard." He smirks at you before leaning forward a bit to place a hot kiss against your jaw.

"Mm. My bad." You tug softer this time.

"Did someone miss me?" He growls in your ear.

"You have no idea."

Yoongi chuckles at this before he pushes you back and tries to climb on top of you, but then he hisses in pain. "Aish..."

"Are you alright?"

Yoongi grimaces as he leans back against the couch. "Yeah, I'm okay." He sighs. "Just didn't think it would hurt that much. I guess..." Another sigh. "Fuck, I'm sorry. I don't think-"

"Oh no, hold that thought." You stop him before he can turn you down and climb into his lap. He stares up at you in awe as his hands find your hips and then reach down to squeeze your ass.

"This could work. You look good like this baby." He grabs your shirt and pulls it off over your head to reveal that you went without a bra today. "Even better. Goddamn you are sexy."

"Thanks, but if you don't fuck me in the next thirty seconds, I'm gonna be sexy and angry." You state, pulling his sweatpants down his hips.

"Anything for you jagiya." He unties the string on your shorts and as you stand up he tugs them and your underwear off before slipping out of his own boxers and then tugging you back into his lap where he immediately slips two fingers inside you.

"Ah, Yoongi~" You gasp, gripping his shoulders.

"Gotta get you ready for me baby. It's been a while."

"Yoongi please just fuck me I can't wait any longer."

Yoongi grabs your thighs and pulls you close before rubbing his length against your entrance. "Whenever you're ready." He presses against you and you quickly sink down on to him with a satisfied groan.

"Fuck, hnng Yoongi." You dig your fingernails into his shoulders.

"Jesus you're tight." He hisses through his teeth.

Even though it's still a bit much, you start moving, desperate for the feeling of him moving inside you. He feels amazing, so amazing. You throw your head back, already lost in the pleasure between your thighs.

"God you're beautiful." Yoongi mumbles, running his hand up your side.

"Y-Yoongi..." You blush as his hands move to your breasts, squeezing them enough to make you even needier. You bounce faster in his lap, but even though you've always been confident in yourself, his comment makes you want to cover yourself up, but makes your core tighten around him at the same time.

"So fucking beautiful." Yoongi smacks your ass. You move your arms to try and cover yourself, but Yoongi stops you. "Don't you dare cover yourself." He growls, moving your arms out of the way. "I want to see all of you like this."

Yoongi holds your wrists as he watches you fuck yourself on his length, mesmerized by the sight. The look in his eyes makes you feel hot, and it isn't long before you feel your high approaching.

"You've never looked this sexy baby."

"Yoongi I-I..."

"Fuck I'm so close." Yoongi moans. "Go harder for me." He commands. You obey, smacking your hips against him harder as he lets go of one of yours wrists and brings his hand down to play with your clit. "So fucking beautiful jagi , I love you."

"Ah~!" Your orgasm slams into you as your hips falter, your hands gripping Yoongi's shoulders again as pleasure shoots through your nerves. The tightening caused by your orgasm sends Yoongi into his own high , not giving him time to pull out before he fills you with his hot release.

The two of you sit for a long time, trying to catch your breath as your highs recede. You sit up, peeling your sweaty, sticky chest off of Yoongi's as both of you shiver from the overstimulation it causes. As your brain regains cognizant function once more, you realize something.

"Wait, what did you say?"

Copyright © Inkjam-Moon 2019

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

One Night 🌙 1

Warnings: noncon sexual acts (to be warned later in series); consensual sex (one night stand, dirty bathroom sex)

This is dark!Andy Barber and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: One night changes your entire life.

Based on these lyrics:

‘It's New York, baby, always jacked up (Hey) Holland Tunnel for a nose, it's always backed up [Sniffing] When she's alone, she goes home to a cactus (Uh) In a black dress, she's such an actress [Sniffing] Driving me crazy, but I'm into it, but I'm into it I'm kinda into it It's getting crazy, I think I'm losing it, I think I'm losing it Oh, I think she said "I'm having your baby, it's none of your business" "I'm having your baby, it's none of your business" (it's none of your, it's none of your) "I'm having your baby, it's none of your business" "I'm having your baby, it's none of your, it's none of your...’ 

for @kittykatlow​‘s 200 Follower Celebration

Note: I haven’t written Andy yet but here’s the first part of a short series! The darkness will come slow so warnings will be given on all chapters just to protect people. Anyways, let’s get started.

Hope you enjoy it. Thank you. Love you guys!

Please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

Warmth hazed your vision. A stronger heat radiated from your chest. You were so deliciously drunk you barely noticed the smell of piss that undercut the dusky cologne of the man against you. His short beard tickled you as he kissed your neck hungrily.

You clung to the top of the stall as he pinned you against the metal divider. Your legs wrapped around him as your skirt bunched up around your thighs. Well, you'd borrowed the denim atrocity from Felicia but that didn't matter much.

He hiked your skirt higher, rolling it around your waist as his large hand stretched over one half of your ass. His other hand fumbled between your bodies as he struggled to undo his fly.

His breath shuddered and his deep voice whisked over your lips as he looked into your eyes. Your eyelids were heavy with liquor and you felt like you were floating. He was drunk too, his cheeks flushed red with rye.

"Are you sure?" He asked.

You grabbed the back of his neck with your free hand and pulled his lips to yours. You kissed him sloppily as your hand snaked down his shoulder and around to his chest.

Lower, you grasped the top of his pants and slid down his zipper. You reached into his boxers and pulled your head back with a giggle. You stroked him and tugged the front of his pants and boxers below his dick. He groaned as you turned your hand and fondled his sac.

"I'm sure," You breathed as you grasped his length again. "I want you."

You pulled aside your panties and rubbed his head along your folds. You teasingly guided him to your entrance. You squeezed him tighter with your legs as you welcomed all of him. He gasped and kneaded your ass as he slapped the stall with his other hand.

"Oh god!" He groaned as he pushed himself as deep as he could go.

You purred and tilted your hips into him. He lifted you and began to rock, gliding you up and down his cock. You bit your lip as you gripped his shoulder tightly. 

A toilet flushed but you barely noticed the slosh of water. Your other hand stayed hooked around the top of the wall as the man worked in tandem with you.

His hot hand left the wall and he pushed it between you. He pressed his thumb to your clit as he stepped back slightly. You hung at an angle between him and the side of the stall as he watched himself play with you. Watched him slide in and out of you, faster and faster.

Your thighs tensed around him as your voices mingles in a drunken melody over the beating of your flesh.

"You cumming?" He asked gruffly and flicked his thumb faster.

You let out a strangled moan and your eyes rolled back. You gasped, ‘yes’, and the waves rolled under your skin and crested in a great deluge.

"You gonna make me cum?" He growled. "Yeah, baby, I'm gonna cum."

You tried to blink away your dizziness as his words cut through your drunken haze. He kept your body bouncing against his. You wanted him to stop but couldn't think of why. More, you wanted him to keep going.

"Here it...comes," He jerked into you several times as he hung his head back. He grunted and slowed to halt as his entire body trembled. A long sigh escaped his lips.

He pulled out of you slowly and lowered you back to the floor as your legs fell from around him. You braced the metal wall and wobbled in your chunky heels. 

His cum leaked down your leg and you drunkenly reached for the roll of tissue. You wiped yourself with the rough one-ply and missed the toilet bowl as you tossed it. 

His zipper was loud as you fixed your panties and pulled your skirt straight. He sniffed and puffed his chest.

"That was..."

"Fun." You finished for him. "My friends are gonna start looking for me."

"Ah, yep," He nodded. "Luckily, I don't have that problem."

"Shouldn't drink alone," You murmured. "You'll get in trouble."

"Think I already did," He laughed and unlocked the stall door. "You okay?"

"I think I'm great," You grinned dopily. 

You nodded past the door and he returned the gesture. He left as you waited there. You stumbled out of the stall shortly after the bathroom door closed.

You crossed to the mirror and stared at your reflection. Through the alcohol burning the pit in your stomach, the shame began to seep through.

You hadn't expected a night at the bar. Didn't expect to be dancing on a stranger to old 90s jams. Or to be riding him by the toilets.

You also hadn't expected to have your hours cut at the diner. The job you'd worked forty hours a week for almost ten years gave away your hours to the owner's daughter so she could "pay her own way". 

You shook your head and stepped away from the sink. Your drunken antics had already led you to stupidity, it would do no good to get yourself worked up. Not in this state. Not here.

Best to go find Felicia and tell her it was time to go.

🌙

Usually you worked Saturday breakfasts but Brittany had that pleasure now that she was saving for college. All the better as you didn’t even roll out of bed that morning. You were so hungover that your mom even came in to check on you. She left a bottle of tylenol and a glass of water beside your bed. And you didn’t miss the look she sent your way.

You were too old to be drinking like that. Too old to be living in your parents house. Well, that wasn’t entirely within your control.

The day was spent in the dark. Still, silent. 

Sunday you woke up, mostly recovered. You did your laundry, a hamper full of clothes formerly strewn across your bedroom floor. You dropped the denim skirt in last, a string of semen dried across the hem. Felicia didn’t need to know. 

As you wasted time on your phone, you still had a shadow over you. You could barely remember the night. Only glimpses of the bar and the bathroom stall. The vibrant sensation which had overwhelmed you. The soft tickle of a thick beard and eyes bluer than the ocean. Eyes a deep and ominous as the harbour.

Monday saw you back to work. You served coffee to the regulars as the small flat screen mounted in the corner played the news. You went to grab the order from the window and returned to Brenda and Leah; the two widows who argued over soap operas and ogled the cook.

As you set their plates down you glanced up at the screen. You froze as you saw the familiar face staring back at you.

‘...Barber’s wife and son were found a year ago today. His wife lost control of their vehicle and crashed into the side of an overpass. While his son, Jacob, remained on life support for only a month, his wife, Laurie remains in the hospital. Doctors await Mr. Barber’s decision as he returns to his position as Assistant District Attorney for Newton.’

You blinked and felt a warmth on your hand. Leah’s creased fingers cupped yours.

“You okay, sweetie?” She asked.

“Uh, yeah, I just… Did you need more coffee?” You cleared your throat.

“Oh, no, doctor says I need to cut back on the caffeine.” She said.

“We have decaf.” You offered.

“I’m good with water.” She smiled.

You nodded and backed away. You went to the large industrial coffee machine and replaced the filter for a new pot. You made another round of the diner as you offered refills and tried to outrun your own thoughts. 

That was the man. You knew it. It all came flooding back as his picture shone on the screen. That night, in your drunken trance, you’d sworn you recognized him but you also had half a bottle of sambuca burning out your brain. You were sure now as you recalled the stall, the feel of his body against yours, the heat of his flesh, the sheer pleasure etched across his face. You knew it because that tickle formed in your core and did not relent.

You checked the clock. Only nine. You had a whole six hours left. You just couldn’t focus now as you avoided looking again at the television. He was married. Worse, his wife was in a coma. Sure you two were drunk but that wasn’t an excuse. 

Had he taken advantage of you or was it the other way around? Either way, you wouldn’t go to that bar again. Thankfully, you’d likely never see him again. Newton was a big enough town for that.

🌙

Your shift at the diner ended and you raced to the cafe three blocks down, barely dodging a car as you crossed the street. You had less than ten minutes to get in and change into your other uniform. Two months since the diner pared down your hours and your second job offered just enough to augment what you’d lost, though your days often lasted more than twelve hours and your nights were shorter and shorter.

You felt sick at the smell of the quiche baking in the oven as you entered. You slipped behind the counter and into the back room. You passed the racks of empty muffin tins and dipped into the storage room. You quickly exchanged your minty green shirt for the plain black one with the golden name tag.

You rubbed your stomach as you clocked in and tiptoed out behind the counter.

“Am I on cash?” You asked Taylor as she plated the quiche for her customer.

“Dishes,” She said staunchly and turned back with a fake smile to serve up the smelly egg tart. “You’re late.”

“No, I punched in on time,” You argued.

“Yes, but you should be on the floor five minutes early. We’ve had this conversation.” She smiled as another customer entered. “Now go do the dishes.”

You went to the end of the counter, where the sink was hidden next to the espresso machine. You ran the hot water and dumped the stack of square plates into the deep sink. You took the hose and began to scour each before setting it into the silver rack above. Your stomach flipped again and you gulped back the mouthful of bile which rose suddenly.

You shook it off and kept on. When you finished you dried each plate, bowl, and mug carefully and set them along the pristine shelves. You went back to Taylor and she huffed.

“Take the other till,” She said as if you were clueless. “It’s almost six, that’s mean the rush is coming.”

You nodded. You saved your retort as it threatened to come up with your lunch. Maybe those leftovers weren’t as fresh as you’d thought. You went to the other machine and greeted a customer. As you took their order, you struggled not to spew and repeated it back to them, each word measured and fearful.

“I’ll just get that coffee,” You said and turned to fill a paper cup from the machine. “I just need to pop back to grab cinnamon.”

You spun, not awaiting a response and rushed into the back. You flitted through to the back door and opened it just in time for your guts to spill over the tarmac. You wretched, mindful not to dribble any on your apron, and stayed bent over your mess. You waited, making sure it was all out and stood.

You let the door shut heavily and tore a wad of paper towel from the wall and wiped your mouth. You shuddered at the curdle in your stomach. You grabbed a bottle of cinnamon and headed back out. You didn’t need to give Taylor anymore reason to be a bitch. You’d rather nausea than her attitude.

🌙

When the nausea didn’t persist for a week, you caved and went to the clinic. You spent your day off in a waiting room and cursed yourself. It wasn’t a flu, you had no coughing or sneezing, or any other outstanding symptoms. 

After a round of questions, there was one that caught you entirely off guard. ‘Are you sexually active?’ Not exactly.’ ‘Well, when’s the last time you had sex?’ ‘Two months ago’.

You stared at the doctor. Dumbfounded. It couldn’t be. You couldn’t recall if he had... inside of you. Had he? Had you let him?

“Okay, well, we’re just going to take a blood sample and rule out pregnancy before we proceed.” Doctor Neshi was short and her dark hair was greying at the roots. She never smiled but wasn’t unkind.

You nodded and she set aside her clipboard. You made yourself sit still as your blood was taken and you were left to wait in purgatory. Please, please, please. You couldn’t be pregnant. And with a stranger’s baby. Well, you knew who he was. Most of Newton did. But you didn’t know him.

You swung your legs as you sat on the bed, hands folded in your lap. You felt your stomach. Was it bigger? Was it all in your head? Too many croissants from the cafe? The door opened and you sat straight, dropping your hands to your side.

“Miss,” Dr. Neshi closed the door softly and turned to you. “It would seem you are pregnant and that is likely the source of your illness.”

You shook your head and sighed. You touched your forehead and held in a sob.

“I can prescribe you anti-nausea medicine safe for pregnancy and it is our policy to provide all those in need with resources on their options in this situation.” She went to the counter in the corner and gathered a handful of fliers from the stand there. “These will be good to start with. I would suggest a visit to the hospital, they provide counseling service as well as several others offered in these.”

She held out the brochures and you took them from her stiffly. You hopped off the table and swallowed.

“Thanks,” You said breathlessly. 

Her expression was almost sympathetic. Almost. 

“Sorry, dear,” Her voice showed more than her face as she showed you out of the room.

You walked out onto the street and shuffled through the pamphlets. Adoption, abortion, pregnancy care, home birth… 

You were going to be sick. Again.