#room 1015

[inlustris-infensus]

[parfumery-wiki]

Sweet Leaf (eau de parfum) Room 1015 Nose: Serge De Oliveira

Mossy woods

Buy the ticket, take the ride. Too weird to live, too rare to die… 4:20 am, still on the road. The sun, as pink as GRAPEFRUIT, is melting on the turquoise horizon. It’s dripping slowly on the blue concrete under your wheels. These purple trees along the road, they wave their leaves like old friends. Red EUCALYPTUS tentacles are sucking up the last drops of the dawn. The whiffs of dreamy JASMINE clouds and CANNABIS floating all around. The green ANGELICA on orange sand looks so unreal…The Universe rolled in a piece of thin white paper, and you’re behind the wheel. Sweet Leaf - the scent of a colourful trip with no destination.

“Historically cannabis has been used to induce spiritual experiences and inner travel. It’s that part of 1960’s counterculture movement which has evolved into its own language, art, literature and music. The very act of smoking a joint has deep symbolism. To put it bluntly, the fragrance SWEET LEAF will make you fly high.”  Dr. Mike

Top notes: Grapefruit, Eucalyptus Heart notes: Cannabis, Angelica root, Turpentine Base notes: Jasmine, Cashmeran wood, Patchouli

[nutshellparfum]

Room 1015's Sonic Flower

Head Note: Pink Pepper, Carrot Seeds

Heart Note: Orris, Jasmine Petals

Base Note: Ambroxan, Cashmere Woods, Skin Musks

Perfumer: Jérôme Epinette

Inspiration: There's no such thing as "a girl in a band", but there is definitively a thing as THE girl in the band. Sonic Flower vividly narrates the journey of frontwomen who not only embrace music but also reshape the very way we create and experience it. Just as Blondie or Joan Jett revolutionized the musical landscape, these women forge paths, break barriers and command stages, infusing their unique voice into the rhythm of history. Let the flower capture your attention with its singular ability to stimulate your imagination.

[kaz-oooo]

So glad I’ve reached a point in my life where the only maths I know how to do is the most basic multiplication and figuring out the time dilation in DSMP limbo.

Anyway Ghostbur’s been in limbo for 83 years, 4 months and 13 days.

[xythlia]

its actually so cute how when my bf stays at my house he uses my perfume before he leaves for work

[parasolids]

the other thing about perfume is like i like longevity, i like when i put on perfume while im still at home and then i still smell nice when i get to work, but then theres also Too Much longevity where by the end of the workday you never want to smell it again

[nomairuins]

also my sleepings getting bad again and ik its my fault for just..not being able to fall asleep. but i do hate it yeah

[pitchsidestories]

tied to you II Esme Morgan x Reader

masterlist I word count: 1015

a/n: just something short and sweet tonight, enjoy. 🤍

Forward knot, forward knot, then a backward knot. One colour after the other.

Esme sat alone at a table knotting strings into one of her iconic friendship bracelets. She had made a bracelet for each of her England team members so far except for one.

This one would be her last one. And it had to be the most perfect one so far.

She was fully focused on her task, trying to avoid mistakes at any cost. In fact, she was so focused that she jumped a little in her seat when Lauren Hemps voice suddenly asked: “Esme, what are you doing?“

Catching her breath from the scare, she turned around to her while simultaneously trying to hide the bracelet in her lap: “Hempo, keep building your stuff with LJ and Lucy. I need to focus here.“

She nodded into the direction of your other teammates that sat at the other end of the room, stacking bricks on bricks.

Lauren ignored her completely and reached for the bracelet: “Let me see.“

“No.“, Esme replied, not letting go of the strings to avoid tangling.

“I thought you were done with bracelets?“, Lauren asked curiously. She eyed it cautiously, taking in the different colours.

Esme smiled and pulled the bracelet out of Laurens hands: “I am. But this is the most special out of them all.“

She continued working on it while her teammate watched on, her head tilted.

“This?“ Confusion mixed with judgement.

“It’s for my girlfriend.“, Esme nodded.

“Why aren’t you making a pretty one then? The colours are so chaotic?“, the winger laughed.

“Because each colour represents a different memory…“, Esme explained softly.

Niamh Charles appeared next to them, sitting down on the table: “What does the blue stand for?“

“And the brown?“, Lauren added before Esme could answer.

“Or the dark green one?“ This question was Lucys.

Esme blushed as she found herself surrounded by her teammates: “Guys, stop for a minute. Let me breathe, okay? So the light blue one obviously represents our time at City together.“

Niamh nodded solemnly: “Okay, that makes sense.“

“But that doesn’t explain the brown and green one.“, Lauren reminded her.

“Not to forget the pink!“, Lucy agreed.

“So, I chose the brown because it looks exactly like her favourite coffee order.“, Esme started. The girls surrounding her stared down at the cappuccino-coloured strand.

“That’s cute.“, Lauren commented.

“And the rest?“, Niamh prompted Esme to go on but she quickly shook her head.

“Oh no, she’s coming. Help me to distract her girls. I’m not completely finished yet.“

She hid the bracelet behind her back while her teammates got up.

You just entered the entertainment room with two to-go cups in hand when Lauren Hemp walked briskly towards you: “Hey, y/n.“

“Hi, Hempo. What are you building at the moment?“, you asked politely.

“I uhm… uhhh.“, she replied, seemingly surprised by your question.

“We’re working on that flower bouquet.“, Lucy answered in her stead, pointing towards a collection of square brick flowers.

You smiled: “How pretty.“

"You want to help us?", Lauren asked with a friendly grin on her lips. "Sure, have you seen Esme though? I've her hot chocolate order right here?", you wanted to know, your hands wrapped around the hot drink.

"She's right..oh, I mean no.", the blonde stammered. "So Es is in the room?", you looked around curiously. "I'll bring it to her.", Niamh offered winking.

"Okay?", you had a feeling that something was off and they were trying to distract you, but you didn’t know from what. Like what was Esme doing or hiding?

"Esme is busy doing something for the lionesses’ social media.", the defender explained quickly. "Oh, I won't interrupt her then.", you declared. "Come on, let's build some flowers.", Lauren smiled warmly. How could you say no to that? Impossible, plus it was so much fun. Later in the evening Esme gave you a long hug when she entered the dimly lit hotel room you shared together.

"Hi love, thanks for the hot chocolate earlier.", the defender whispered gratefully. "You're welcome, Es.", you replied. "I've something for you.", Esme winked conspiratorially. "You do?", you raised an eyebrow at your girlfriend.

"Yes, something I promised you for a long time.", she nervously put a loose hair string back behind her ear. "Is it a bracelet?", you asked the new Washington Spirits signing audibly moved. The lionesses teammates knew you were sad about the fact that everyone received an armband by her except you. "It's.", Esme confirmed excitedly before helping you to put her handmade bracelet on.

"Thank you.", you beamed at her. "I hope you like it.", the defender responded. "It's perfect.", you assured your girlfriend who's lips formed into a beautiful smile. "You like it?" "No, I love it.", you emphasized your previous words. Your shoulders slumped while you remembered how far you'd be apart when the camp was over. "What's wrong?", Esme questioned concerned.

"Nothing, I'll just miss you.", you admitted with a heavy sigh.

"I know. I'll miss you too. But that's why I made that bracelet with these colours.", the defender confessed, pressing a soft kiss to your wrist which made your heart flutter.

Does each one has a special meaning?", you looked at her interested. She took her time to explain it to you. How the light blue string stood for your time together at City, the brown symbolizing your coffee order and many more.

"Maybe that can help for the first few weeks.", Esme ended hopefully. "And the next lionesses camp won't be too far off.", you remembered.

"Exactly and we can always call each other.", the blonde added optimistically. Her words were like balm to your worries.

"We can do this, right?" "Yes. We'll be fine. Finer than fine.", your girlfriend smirked pressing sweet little kisses on to your face making you giggle. Deep down you knew that Esme was right. Together you were capable to face everything even long distance over two continents, the love you had for each other was strong enough and the bracelet was your everyday reminder for it.

[nescaveckwriter]

Hey, lovely! 🥰

So I'll put the request here too to make it easier for you to answer: can I request a fic from you where Dean falls asleep on Y/N's shoulder when they're hanging out with her family like that dream I told you about 🥹 something sweet and fluffy, and maybe she'll later tease Dean, but just a little 😆🤭

Love you and thank you! 🤍☀️

❤️. Awww @k-slla 🐞... I really hope this is what you had in mind, Oh goodness 🤭 its such a cute request 🥰 and I love you too 💕... Also I'm going to tag @artyandink for my first post on the #Jensenathon and then @anyfandomgoesbingo for my fist square ('Game Night, will be in bold') 🤭🥰 hopefully y'all like this . 🥰🤭🐞

Warnings: I'm going to say 18+ only ya know just for precaution 😅 but honestly there's none, just fluffy and sweetness.

Words: 1015

A little fun !! 🤭❤️❤️

He's hand runs over his freckled face, it's been a rough couple of days, he's been struggling more to sleep, than in a while, everything weighing so heavily on his shoulders, so when I came running towards him, big smile plastered on my face, almost excitedly jumping up and down, like a two year old, "Dean! Babe?" His green eyes stare into mine, and I feel butterflies swirling around again, "Sweetheart? Don't you seem all excited!" 

Laughing "I am, it's been awhile since we had a fun time" giving him a Bambi-like glaze "so, my parents invited us to Game night, please can we go?" 

He couldn't keep the smile from tugging at the corners of his perfect plum lips, "That sounds like fun sweetheart"

 "Really?" I yelped.

He pulls me into one of those breath stopping hugs, tugging his head into the crook of my neck , the hot air of his breath tickling against my skin , while he whispers "your the only bit of light in this world you know that?" I just hugged him back, unsure how to reply, the emotion welling up in my eyes, so instead of saying a single word, I held him tight, wrapping my arms around his shoulders, just lightly running my fingers, in his hair. I'm not sure how long we held each other in that heartfelt embrace but without saying a single word, it spoke of love, trust, peace, maybe the only sense of peace we had in our lives.

Blasting the radio loudly, playing Dean's favourite Led Zeppelin songs, on the drive over to my parents house, we got out, in a quite cheerful mood, well I could still see the heaviness in those emerald green orbs of his, but I made a quick promise to myself that, I'll do anything in my power, to make sure he has a little fun and relaxes a bit. So without further due, I grabbed his hand, which in return he held the beer and some of the snacks. We rang the doorbell and got welcomed as if we were long lost. We walked in and the living room, spoke of fun with the board games all stacked up, there was wine, and beer, finger foods, it spelled laughter and fun.

 As the night got started and we were teamed up together we laughed and shared stories throughout the games. When Dean ate all the pie and some other snacks, me and my mom went into the kitchen, to get some more snacks. When she smiled looked at me and said, "Sweetie,you look so happy are you?" 

My eyes glistened, "Mom! I'm not happy, I'm overjoyed, I simply adore Dean, I love him more than anything in this world" soft tears rolled down my mom's cheeks, "Sweetie I'm so happy for you, he looks like a good man" I nod, "He is mom, he has his problems but when it comes to me, he treats me like a queen". And with that we walked back to where Dean and the rest of my family were sitting. He gave me that smirk, of his, the one that made my knees weak, and I smile back, he pats the seat next to him, and I gladly obliged, he placed a sweet kiss on my cheek, I placed my hand on his thigh, giving him a slight squeeze, after my father cleared his throat he said we should maybe play a card game, and so we started.

The rest of the night was filled with laughter, an accusation of cheating every now and again, but it was all playful, and light hearted fun, and as the night went on, everyone taking turns, when it came to Dean's turn, I felt his head resting on my shoulder, and when I looked down, I saw his eyes were closed, the man fell asleep in the middle of room filled with people. I didn't have the heart to wake him up, or even stir a little, so I took the beer out of his hand, and the left over cards and sat it down with mine, mouthing to my parents that we are done playing for the night so I just watched them play further on, until one for one got up and either went home or to bed, leaving me and Dean in the living room, his head still on my shoulder. It didn't take long for my eyelids to fall close, my head gently rested against him.

The night turned into early morning sunrays lighting up the room, my eyes fluttering open only to be met by his forest green orbs, his voice gruffly "Sweetheart when.. what... How?" Smiling, I look at him, my own voice a little croaky from the sleep, "No! Apparently we're so boring and not good company at all, you fell asleep while we were playing cards" 

Dean looked shocked and ashamed "Sweetheart it's not that, it's, I'm so sorry okay, I don't..." I pressed a finger on his lips , "Shhh, babe I'm joking, I know you were tired" A smile tugs at his plum lips, "really you had to make me feel bad didn't you?" Shrugging my shoulders, chuckling a bit "I couldn't help myself, sorry my love" he looks at me as if he's looking into soul, "I love you, you know that right?" Nodding about to answer but before I could, he's lips crashed against mine in a searing kiss, his fingers tangled in my hair, I couldn't hold the small moan escaping my lips, the grin on Dean's lips was unmistakable, he shifted slightly, gently guiding me to lay on the couch, I giggled, whispering "My parents'' pressing his finger against my lips, "shhh sweetheart, we don't want to wake them up do we?" with that he captures my lips in a passionate kiss, after a little while, he pulls back, hoarsely whispers "I like game night!"  planting yet another kiss, in that moment I knew, I Will always love this green eyed man, even if he falls asleep mid family events.

@jackles010378 @winchesterwild78 @angelbabyyy99 @cevansbaby-dove @bookishtheaterlover7 @cutedisneygrl

[blurredcolour]

IV. “I Trust You Know What You’re Doing?”

"Trust" Series Masterlist

John "Bucky" Egan x WAC!Female Reader

Struggling with the forced separation of your transfer and promotion, it does not take long for you and Bucky to plan a trip to London together. But even while you're on leave, the world around you continues to do its best to tear itself apart.

Warnings: Language, Grief, Alcohol Consumption, Angst, Inevitable Historical and Military Inaccuracies, Mature/Explicit Themes [oral - f receiving, implied virginity loss, protected vaginal sex, condoms, unprotected vaginal sex, multiple orgasms] - 18+ ONLY.

Author’s Note: Welcome to this massive installment. I have no excuses, only apologies. Also I only had the fortitude to proof this once, there may be more errors than normal, but I didn't want to delay it any longer - I will correct things as I find them. This is a work of fiction based off the portrayal by the actors in the Apple TV+ series. I hold nothing but respect for the real life individuals referenced within.

ETA: The image descriptions for the letters contain the text within to allow for a screen reader or anyone who cannot read cursive. Click the ‘ALT’ button to access.

Word Count: 8497

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

Wycombe Abbey could not have been more different than Thorpe Abbotts if it had tried.

The private, or in a most confusing twist ‘public’ as the Brits called such institutions, girls’ school had begun its life in the 17th century as a manor house before being transformed into a much grander residence near the end of the 19th century. The school had opened in 1896 with only forty students, but that number had swelled to over two hundred by the time the building was requisitioned for use as the Headquarters of the 8th Air Force.

Stained glass windows, stonework, archways, and wood panelling now replaced squat concrete buildings and rough-and-ready Nissen huts. Though everything was just as drafty, so at least the temperature provided some familiar consistency to your new surroundings. As you descended from your quarters tucked away in some forgotten corner of the attic, down a set of precarious servants’ stairs, you nearly took a wrong turn – again. To your credit you had only been here three days and the maze of corridors and rooms further divided into offices for USAAF purposes was nearly unnavigable.

Chiding yourself softly under your breath that your office was to the right and not the left, as though the sharpness of your tone might really drive it home this time, you quickened your steps still hoping to beat to postal clerk to the outgoing mail box that sat on the corner of your desk. It had been more of a challenge than you were expecting to write the letter clutched in your hand, but the daily meetings that senior operations officers held at 1015, 1600, and 2200 were your responsibility to attend and record via frantically scribbled notes to be typed up in a more professional format later.

These were the meetings at which mission targets for the entire 8th were chosen. The strategic value of various locations was discussed alongside weather reports and aligning with the RAF’s Bomber Command for maximum impact against Nazi Germany. After the first meeting, it would be decided if a mission would even be conducted the following day, and each Division, Wing, and Base involved would be put on alert to allow them time to begin planning the operation. By the time the last meeting ended, the target and approach would be finalized, and the official field orders would be issued.

It made for a remarkably long day, even with breaks for meals, and though you were guaranteed every other Friday off because of this, by the time you crawled into bed near midnight, you only had enough energy to add a few lines onto the letter you had begun to Bucky as soon as you arrived. It made for a rather disjointed and rambling piece of correspondence, in your opinion, but you could not bear to keep him waiting any longer – not wanting him to assume you had forgotten to write and not knowing how long the thing would take to reach him regardless.

Dashing into the office you shared with Myrtle, a very stoic young woman with dark hair and thick eyelashes from Rhode Island, you exhaled in relief to see the post still waiting to be collected and added your letter to the pile. Unlocking your desk drawers, you began setting up for the day, hoping it would reach him quickly.

His reply arrived in your inbox just over two weeks later, near the end of September. Sliding it into your brown leather utility bag, you did your utmost to ignore its very existence throughout the first daily meeting, and your subsequent production of the official report thereof. Taking your lunch break a little earlier than usual paid off in that the line was much shorter at that time. You inhaled the mystery stew and rolls, hardly tasting them, before taking your letter outside to read in the rare afternoon sunshine.

It was short, and it was unspeakably adorable that Bucky did not write in cursive, but there was no lack of his personality in his response. It was as though the very essence of him had been distilled into the ink itself and you could not help the broad grin that bore its way into the muscles of your cheeks, making them ache as you read it.

Glancing quickly at your watch, you realized there was still time to send a reply before the second post pick-up but based on the length of time it had taken for this exchange of letters, it was unlikely another would reach him with enough time to plan for October 8 – your next Friday off. Worrying your lip between your teeth as you considered your options, you landed on a rather devious idea, one that quite honestly would have never come to you if not for the deep need to reach Bucky immediately. Vi had a telephone on her desk in the weather office, a number that you had access to given the strategic importance of weather to the senior operations officers.

Myrtle would be on her break for another fifteen minutes…you had not even realized you had made up your mind before your feet began to carry you back inside, up the stairs into the mercifully still-empty office. Digging out the directory, you found the number for Thorpe Abbotts’ weather office and took a shaky breath as you sank into your chair.

‘Keep it brief, keep it free of classified information. Worst you’ll get is a reprimand.’

The devious, deceptive voice in your mind was a new one, fostered, perhaps, by the rather carefree man you found yourself deeply entangled with, but it was not one you were about to disobey. Lifting the handset of your phone from its cradle, you cleared your throat as the operator answered.

“Norfolk 7315, please.” You tried your best to sound calm and collected as the line clicked and began to ring.

“Phillips.” An unexpected voice answered, and you gulped, knowing Ruth would be less likely to participate in some romantic scheme.

You greeted her in kind, trying to ignore the ache of loneliness as she gasped softly.

“I was hoping you might pass along a message for me?”

“To a certain Major?” You could hear the grin in her voice and felt the pressure on your chest ease.

“Indeed. October 8. I will arrange accommodations.”

“Your line should he need to reach you?”

Hesitating a moment, you ultimately decided to provide it as well, wanting to ensure he could in fact contact you if something came up. Or perhaps any of them could – should the worst happen.

‘Don’t think about that.’ You chastised yourself internally.

“You’re well?” Ruth asked and you smiled softly.

“I am, please tell everyone I miss them terribly.”

“Will do, have to go.”

There was a ‘click’ as she hung up and the line went dead but the lightness in your heart could not be extinguished.

Nine days later you found yourself waiting on the platform at Liverpool Street station awaiting the arrival of Bucky’s train from East Anglia. Given the proximity of High Wycombe to London, you had arrived much earlier that morning and checked into the hotel already, dropping off your small bag and come to wait for his train – well you assumed he’d be on the first train of the day, but as the carriages disgorged a sea of humanity and you had yet to spot him, your brows began to furrow in doubt.

You were about to fish the folded schedule you had picked up from the ticket counter to check the next arrival time when he was suddenly wrapping an arm around you, pulling you tight into his chest as you gasped softly in surprise.

“There you are doll.” Bucky sighed, dropping his bag at your feet to slide the other arm around you as he pulled back to nudge your cap out of the way and deliver a breathtakingly thorough kiss that you were not entirely sure was appropriate for the public setting you were in.

Not that you stopped him, you own arms snaking about his midsection to cling to him tightly.

Pulling back, his eyes raked over your features lovingly as you both inhaled deeply to fill your greedy lungs.

“Well, well 1st Lieutenant.” He smirked proudly as he lifted his hand to stroke the chrome insignia you now wore on your lapels courtesy of your promotion, leaving smudges of his thumb print.

“You are leaving my uniform in disarray, Major.” You chided playfully, unable to hold back you grin, even for a moment, to sell the joke.

His forefinger hooked behind the knot in your tie, tugging it out from beneath your jacket and pulling you closer – eliminating the last few inches of space that remained between your bodies.

“Good.” He rumbled against your lips before kissing you deeply, severely undermining the infrastructure of your knees.

The loud racket of the train cars as they shunted into one another jolted the pair of you apart, making you realize you were among the last few remaining on the platform as the now empty train left the station.

“Let’s get you checked in and your bag dropped off.” You murmured, clearing your throat as you unbuttoned your uniform jacket to straighten and re-secure your tie.

His hand slid into yours as the pair of you made your way out of the station and he happily followed you to a hotel you’d found near his station, knowing that he’d be here longer than you and it would be easier for him to find his way back to base this way. Sitting patiently in the lobby as he checked in and ran his bag up, you smiled as he returned to hold his hands out to you.

“C’mon doll, I have a whole plan.”

Taking his hands, you rose to your feet, raising your eyebrows curiously. “A whole plan?”

He leaned in to murmur against your ear, “you’re not the only one involved in planning you know.”

You pulled back quickly, eyes wide with a touch of panic. You were quite certain you had never told him just what your new position entailed, and there was no way he could simply guess it.

“Easy doll, your phone line.” He winked as he maneuvered your arm through his, turning to lead you out the front door.

Slowly exhaling, it clicked into place. Of course. Just as you were able to find Vi’s desk number in a directory, it seemed Bucky had been doing a little research of his own.

“Well, shhh.” You chastened him firmly, laying a finger over your lips, looking very much like an anti-slander campaign poster.

His hearty laugh in response did little to convince you that he took in the message.

“Now, how do we get to Hyde Park…” He murmured, pulling a crumpled leave guide out of his pocket.

“The underground.” You answered easily, leading him back towards the very station he had arrived at but this time down to the tube station entrance where the pair of you purchased your tickets.

His touch rarely left you – even if he was forced to release your hand, you could feel his palm pressed against your lower back as you made your way through the crowded subterranean space. You were glad to have him with you this time, not particularly a fan of this mode of transportation, but it certainly was an efficient way to get around London. Pressed close together on the train, you took the opportunity to simply gaze at him, basking in his presence after nearly a month apart, not missing the way his mouth ticked up at the corner cockily.

“Missed you too, doll.” He winked and ducked a kiss to your ear before guiding you off the train at your stop – once he had confirmed with you it was indeed your stop.

Blinking your way back into the light of day, you pointed at a directional sign guiding the way to Hyde Park.

“Perfect, now apparently there are…sandwiches!” He crowed and tugged you over to a sandwich truck that seemed quite popular based on the line of waiting patrons.

Your face was starting to hurt, driving home how infrequently you had found the opportunity to smile in his absence, making you squeeze his hand fondly. Bucky looked back to you quickly as he joined the queue.

“You really did plan everything.” You gulped quickly and he beamed proudly.

“Anything for my girl. What kind would you like?” He gestured at the menu written on the side of the truck.

By the time you reached the front of the line, Bucky was able to easily place your order, including two bottles of lemonade, insisting on paying. Opening your utility bag, you carefully packed the lunch away, earning a rather damp and enthusiastic kiss on your cheek as he snatched your hand to continue onto the park.

“May I ask what it is about this park in particular?” You inquired as the pair of you dashed across the road.

“You can ask…” His cheeky reply had you scoffing in return as you entered the canopy of trees, following a path further and further away from the traffic of downtown London.

Plenty of men in uniform seemed to be out, enjoying the nice weather with women on their arms. Women who, unlike you, enjoyed the luxury of being allowed to dress as they chose during their leisure time. It had been one of many reasons that nearly twenty-five percent of women had chosen not to remain enlisted during the transition from the WAAC to the WAC, the army requirement to remain in uniform even when off-duty. In all honesty, you had not really missed your civilian clothes until just then.

Watching the sheer femininity of those women as they swirled about in their colorful fabrics only drove home how drably olive and plainly cut your uniform truly was.

“You’re a million miles away, doll.” Bucky’s voice cut through the dark clouds that had gathered in your mind and you looked to him quickly.

“Sorry Bucky, it’s beautiful here. Like another place entirely.” You offered him a smile but by the way his eyebrow lifted slightly he did not seem to be entirely buying it. “Have the leaves started changing around the base yet?” You tried changing the subject.

He shook his head, releasing your hand to slide his arm around your waist instead, pulling you closer. “Seems everything will happen later here than back home.”

You hummed thoughtfully, glancing ahead and gasping a little at the glimpse of a sizeable body of water that seemed to be filled with rowboats.

“That’s why were here.”

You turned back to him to see a broad grin had overtaken his face and laughed in excitement as it was terribly romantic.

“If I had known, Major Egan, I would have brought my parasol.” You grinned and he snorted, squeezing your hip fondly.

“No need to put on airs, 1st Lieutenant,” he smirked, “the ride will be enjoyable all the same.”

“Bucky!” You hissed sharply, slapping his chest as he laughed deeply, ducking your head slightly as more than a few passersby shot glances your way.

“C’mon doll.” He chuckled and led you over to the booth beside the dock, paying the fee for a thirty-minute rental before the pair of you headed down to climb into one of the waiting row boats.

Setting your heavy bag on the floor, you carefully stepped into the rather unstable watercraft, settling on the passenger’s bench – denoted as such by the ornate ironwork arms. Bucky followed, seated across from you at the oars, his knees nearly brushing against yours, legs too long for so small a boat. Unbuttoning and sliding off his jacket, he tossed it and his cap to you before rolling up his sleeves and began to row the pair of you out onto The Serpentine, you now knew the small lake to be called.

“I trust you know what you’re doing?” You asked as he appeared to easily manage the oars, seeming at ease in the small boat.

“Mostly.” He teased with a wink before laughing at your slightly aghast expression. “Grew up on the shore of Lake Michigan, doll. Boats are like planes to me, easily managed.” He soothed.

It was difficult to decide which view to settle your eyes upon, the verdant green of the still-lush trees, the throng of boats around you, or Bucky working up a remarkably attractive sheen of sweat with his forearms on display as he propelled the rowboat through the water. A feathered fan would have been a very useful tool in that moment, to hide behind or cool yourself down, or perhaps both.

Belatedly, you realized that Bucky had been speaking this whole time – about events back at Thorpe Abbotts. Giving you the update about the people you knew, the trouble Meatball had caused with a farmer down the road, but he trailed off when he realized you were staring once more in dumbfounded silence at him.

“Doll, you’re going to give me a big head if you keep looking at me like that.” He winked as he lifted the oars from the water, letting the water sluice from the blades before tucking them into the boat on either side of you.

“Y…you’re good at that.” You replied lamely and shook your head. “Hungry?” Leaning forward for your bag, which was in all honestly a lot closer to his feet in the floor of the boat, you froze as everything tilted precariously in response to your movements.

Bucky lay a gentle hand on your shoulder to steady you. “Allow me.” Bending down slowly, he scooped up your bag and opened the flap to retrieve your sandwich and lemonade. “It’s sure tight in here, how did you even make this all fit?”

He tugged a little harder on the packet containing your lunch and your eyes widened in horror as, while he was triumphant, he also managed to send the three condoms you had tucked into your bag scattering to the floor of the boat. His eyes followed the distinct, square, paper packets and you could see his throat bob as he swallowed viciously.

“Doll…” His voice came out rough as a gravel road as he slowly raised his eyes to meet yours. “…been doing some planning of your own?”

“‘A WAC is always prepared.’” You quoted in a mortified whisper, struggling against the urge to lunge forward and hide the evidence, knowing it would only send both of you over the side and into the lake.

You watched another swallow ripple down Bucky’s throat before he offered your lunch to you, carefully collecting the offending items and returning them to your bag before he retrieved his own food.

“Would you mind,” He spoke after taking a rather ruthless and oversized bite of his sandwich, words muffled between slices of bread and chicken salad before he swallowed to start over. “Would you mind if, instead of following the rest of my plan, after these thirty minutes are up, I take you back to the hotel?”

Taking a thick swallow of your own, you shook your head slowly as you felt your cheeks heat up at the implications of that invitation. “I would not mind, no.” You clarified breathlessly and he nodded sharply, gesturing for your as-yet-unopened bottle of lemonade.

Handing it back to him, you watched silently as he lined the edge of the cap with the metal plate holding the oarlock in place, popping it off the bottle with one sharp blow of the heel of his palm.

“Thank you.” You murmured quietly as he passed you the opened drink, taking a deep sip as he repeated the process with his own, draining nearly half the bottle in one go.

Tilting your head back to take in the feel of the sun on your face, you slid your cap from your hair, adding it to the pile of his neatly folded items on the bench beside you, continuing to enjoy your picnic on the lake.

“You heard about Dye hitting twenty-five?” He broke the silence, sounding much more like himself again and you nodded quickly.

“Big news, everywhere in the 8th. Lucky crew all heading home – how did Lil take it?” You tilted your head curiously, raising your bottle to your lips, his eyes following the motion closely.

“Hm? Oh, she’ll be alright…they’re both good at letters.” He nodded, leaning back a little.

You knocked your knee against his affectionately. “Don’t sell yourself short you sweet man, I thoroughly enjoyed yours.”

His eyes flicked to yours quickly as a small smile curled his lips. “Yeah?”

You nodded firmly. “Yeah. Promise to give you more to reply to soon, phone was just necessary to make this happen.”

His hand landed on your thigh gently and he squeezed the flesh through your skirt. “Worth it. Just how long are your days though, doll?”

Your fingers played along the empty glass bottle, and you shrugged. “As long as they need to be.” You replied evasively.

“Mm, I’m going to get a better answer out of you than that.” He threatened playfully as he leaned forward to grasp the oar handles, swinging the blades back into the water and taking the pair of you on a loop around the corner of the lake before returning you to the dock.

Bucky climbed out first, taking his cap and jacket before helping you out easily, kissing you firmly as soon as you were on solid ground. “Let’s take a cab…” He breathed impatiently and you laughed, shaking your head.

“The cost would be astronomical, come on.” You affixed your cap on your head as he rolled down his sleeves and slid his jacket back on before the pair of you made your way back to the Underground.

Bucky’s body was practically pressed against yours the entire trip back to Liverpool Street station, seemingly unable to tolerate any form of separation. As you neared the hotel though, you looked to him slowly. “We should go in as colleagues…I booked us that way.”

He looked at you utterly confused, and you swallowed.

“We’re unwed, there was no way I could book us here together, and they will be none to please if they realize I’ve tricked them. I’ll get my key, you get yours, I’ll come to your room…”

He nodded slowly, arm reluctantly unwinding from around your waist before holding the door open for you to step inside.

“Thank you, Major.” You nodded, sliding your cap from your head as you stepped inside, heading to the counter to fetch your room key as he did the same, the pair of you walking up the stairs to the fifth floor together before parting ways so you could fetch your small overnight bag.

It was rather a waste of money, to book a room knowing you would most likely never sleep in it, but such things were necessary for women like you. Women who chose to go to bed with a man they were not married to in the long light of the afternoon. Taking a steadying breath, you left the perfectly made bed behind, walking down the hall to Bucky’s room and knocking on the door softly.

It promptly swung open to reveal a smiling Bucky, his jacket and cap long gone, along with his necktie, the top few buttons of his shirt undone. He stepped back and gestured for you to enter his much larger room with a small brown paper wrapped packet clasped in his hand. Once the door was closed behind you, you let out the laugh you had been holding.

“I did book this under Major John Egan, I suppose they felt the need to give you a nicer room than a Lieutenant.”

He smirked and kissed your cheek, taking your cap and bag from your hand, then pressing the package into it. “Before I forget, again.”

“Bucky you didn’t have to get me anything, you came to see me…”

“Open it.” His eyes danced with anticipation, and you began to pull at the piece of twine holding the package closed, unfolding the utilitarian paper to reveal a brand-new pair of stockings.

You let out an audible gasp as your jaw fairly fell to the floor.

“To replace the pair that got wrecked when you fell.” He smiled, obviously pleased by your reaction.

“How on earth did you…?!” You trailed off, staring up at him in wonderment.

“A man never reveals his secrets, doll.” He grinned and let out a grunt as you launched yourself into his arms, kissing him fiercely at the thoughtfulness of his gift and in recognition of the sheer determination it must have taken to achieve such a feat in rationed England.

His fingers gently plied the items from your grasp, setting them on the bedside table, freeing your hands to latch onto his arms as he cupped your face gently.

“You sure about this, my beautiful girl?” He whispered and your breath hitched in your throat at the tender look on his face just inches from yours.

“Yes.” You nodded quickly, sliding your fingers into his hair to pull his lips back to yours greedily.

A pleased noise rolled from his throat and across your tongue as he coaxed your mouth open, his fingers shifting to make steady work at the buttons on your jacket before he unwound your hands from his dark curls to slide the garment off, tossing it in the general direction of the chair that held his. You could not help the giggle that bubbled up from your chest at that as you moved to undo the buttons of his shirt one by one.

The tug of his teeth on your lower lip quickly transformed your laughter to shuddering breath as you held tightly to the open sides of his shirt, feeling him tug your tie free from your collar before it joined the pile of clothes somewhere on the plush blue carpet of the hotel room floor. Your shirt and skirt were quick to join it, leaving you in your brassiere and slip, garter belt and underwear still hidden from view.

“You have a remarkable number of layers on, doll.” He huffed as his mouth descended along your throat to suck at the crook of your shoulder, installing a dramatic curve in your spine as you arched against him wantonly with a half-swallowed cry of pleasure.

“Y…you have almost as many…” You protested, tugging the ends of his shirt from his trousers before pushing it from his shoulders only to be met with his undershirt.

The sheer broadness of him had never quite been so very apparent and had you licking your lips as you struggled with the last barrier between you and his torso, your ID tags rasping metallically against his.

“Not nearly as complicated though.” He muttered as his fingers worked at the hook and eye closure of your bra until you felt the band go slack and he leaned back to slide the straps down your arms, making you shiver as your breasts were revealed to his hungry gaze.

Bucky’s heavy exhale fluttered against your collarbone, grown cool by the time it traversed the distance between you, and you shuddered slightly, looking to the side shyly. He leaned in to brush his nose against yours tenderly, pecking your lips.

“Whatcha hiding for, gorgeous?” His tone was gentle and had your eyes slowly sliding to meet his, an action he rewarded with a deep kiss.

He continued to distract you with repeated meetings your lips, each time with growing intensity as his palms slid upwards along your sides to cup your breasts. The meeting of flesh had you inhaling sharply through your nose, hands seeking anchor as your fingers twisted into his beltloops where his trousers hung open around his hips – yet again delaying you in your purpose of undressing him. As his thumbs honed in on your sensitive peaks, Bucky elicited all manner of noises from your throat only to eagerly devour them.

“D’ya have any idea how soft you are doll?” He sighed against your lips as he kneaded your tender flesh. “’Cept right here.” He smirked as he tugged at your nipples and you whined his name, pressing impossibly close against him, realizing he was anything but soft.

Your shimmies and writhes against him seemed to serve as a reminder of the greater purpose at hand and Bucky’s fingers ceased their torment, sliding down to your hips to divest you of your slip before beginning to work at your stockings. Toeing off your shoes, you pushed his trousers from his hips, letting gravity do the rest.

“So many hooks and straps and loops…” He muttered as his mouth dipped to the hollow of your throat, though his fingers seemed more than capable of stripping you down to only your underwear.

Seizing your hips, Bucky guided you back onto the bed, and you could not help the sigh at that flew from your mouth at the feel of a real mattress with springs and a duvet, drawing a broad grin across his face as he crawled over you, coaxing you to lay back.

“Precious women like you should always have luxurious beds like these. None of those stinking Army cots…” His hands slid beneath your spine to half guide, half drag you up to rest on the obnoxious mountain of pillows.

Staring up at him in awe, at a complete loss for words, you settled on pressing up onto your elbows to kiss him firmly, hoping to convey your appreciation physically rather than trying to summon speech. As his lips parted from yours to begin sliding down your body, you let out a slight huff of annoyance, earning a chuckle against your collarbone which rumbled through his chest and into your body. He lifted his head slightly as his fingers wove through the ball chain of your ID tags as he seemed to notice them for the first time.

“I always wondered if you ladies had these.”

You bit your lip to smother your grin as he never hesitated to say what was on his mind, a constant stream of commentary on the world around him, and rather than annoying, you found it utterly adorable.

“Are you laughin’ at me, doll?” He smirked and gave a gentle tug, pulling a genuine laugh from you, to which he responded with a brilliant grin. “Alright then, I’ll give you something to laugh about.” He bowed his head to drag the flat of his tongue across your nipple, your resulting whimper bouncing off the walls as he resumed his teasing of your opposite breast.

“B…Bucky…” Your eyes shot wide as his plush lips sealed around that tender peak, applying a positively euphoric suction that had you burying your fingers in his hair and pressing your body closer to his mouth in silent demand.

With careful precision, his knee slid its way between your thighs, applying coaxing pressure to each in turn until you provided enough room for him to settle between them. The feeling of his hard length slotting against your core with only the thin barrier of your underwear separating your intimate flesh had your jaw dropping open in a silent ‘oh’ – a revelation unto itself despite all the experiences you had enjoyed with him thus far. Undulating your hips against his experimentally, you shuddered at the ragged, abbreviated groan he pressed against your sternum, caught in the midst of traversing your chest. Thoroughly encouraged, you repeated the action, savagely gnawing on your lip as he bit off a curse before his mouth reached its destination and laved at your neglected nipple.

Nestling tighter against you, Bucky began to roll his hips against you in earnest, obliterating your ability to think and scheme against him at the blinding pleasure his combined actions induced. You could feel the smug angle of his lips against your abdomen as his mouth was trailing lower on your body, his fingers curling into the waistband of your underwear to peel it from your body. Shifting back to free the interfering item from your legs, he gazed down at you with almost black eyes, his pupils having nearly devoured his irises in his arousal, before stretching forward onto his stomach.

Blinking rapidly, you raised up on your elbows to watch him hoist one of your legs over a strong shoulder and then the other, shuffling embarrassingly close to the apex of your thighs.

“Bucky?” You squeaked hesitantly.

He raised an eyebrow up at you, his pink tongue darting out the wet his lips, nearly matching the flush that had painted its way across his cheeks and down his neck. “Yes, doll?”

“What…” You swallowed thickly as your throat clenched erratically.

“Making good on a promise.” He replied seriously before stretching forward to deliver a thorough kiss to your folds that fairly sucked the air from your lungs, an odd whistling sound echoing through you as you savagely burrowed your fingers into the bedding.

When his tongue narrowed in on that sensitive bundle of nerves, it was your turn to bite off a curse, slumping back onto the pillows as he hummed against you in what was surely mock sympathy as he most certainly did not let up, his efforts only doubling. As your hips began to jerk and writhe, he slung a heavy forearm across your pelvis to pin you in place, only shifting closer and tracing his forefinger around your entrance teasingly. It was all you could do not to kick and wail as you felt yourself becoming embarrassingly slick, the noises he was making growing ever so obscene and filling the hotel room.

“Fuck!” You whined against your palm as his finger finally sunk into your wet heat, its passage remarkably eased by your arousal, hips bucking hard enough to jar his arm slightly.

“Damn you’re delicious, doll.” He growled against you, lips smacking loudly as he began to suck at your pearl, finger working you open enough to add a second before beginning a demanding rhythm.

“Oh…oh...god…” You cried out in agony, too far gone to remember your desire to be quiet, feeling the tension of pending release growing ever closer under his amorous onslaught.

“I know, I know…” He soothed, only quickening his pace, hooking his fingers towards the front of your body, sending your back into a dramatic curve from the mattress, a tortured moan ripping from your throat. “Oh, I have to see that again.” He rasped and sought that precise spot with a ruthless single-minded precision until he was rewarded with not only the same reaction, but your strangled cry as your orgasm slammed into you with breath-taking force.

As you returned to earth from your visit to the celestial plane, the first sensation you became aware of was tender, damp kisses being pressed to your inner thigh as Bucky murmured soft words of encouragement to you.

“There’s my gorgeous girl, holy hell that was incredible, did you enjoy that half as much as I did?”

You managed a wordless noise in the affirmative that summoned him to your side, his lips feathering kisses up your jaw to your ear, the tickle of his moustache making you laugh breathlessly.

“Good?” He murmured and you nodded quickly, turning to look at his still-expectant face.

“Yes.” You cobbled together a verbal response, and he blessed you with a warm smile which you leaned in to press your lips against in gratitude.

“Good.” He swiped his tongue along your lips before suddenly slipping from the bed, making you raise your head in confusion.

Stalking over to find your utility bag amongst the sea of discard items and clothing, he proudly retrieved the three condoms that had announced your hopes and intentions for you by appearing in the rowboat, unceremoniously shucking off his boxers as he made his way back to you. You had held his length before, stroked it to completion, but that paled in comparison to seeing the full expanse of him in the light of day.

“My gorgeous doll, you might not say a lot, but you sure don’t mind looking at what you like.” He smirked unabashedly as he set two of the paper packets on the night table beside you, unwrapping the third to unroll the protective latex onto his cock.

Rather than letting his teasing words dissuade you, though they did cause your teeth to sink into your lower lip, you chose to allow your eyes to linger on his actions, rather fascinated by the whole process. By the male anatomy as well. Task managed, he was climbing over you once more, blocking the golden light of afternoon that was filtering in through the windows with his body, warmth radiating from his skin. He settled easily between your legs once more, still parted from his early activities as you really had not summoned the wherewithal to move yet, and stroked his length through the lingering slick gathered along your folds.

A broken sigh fell from his lips before they clashed with yours, not quite aligned, but the sentiment was still there, body shuddering as you slid your arms around him to cling to his shoulders. It was difficult to tell just whom Bucky was teasing as he continued to rut against you, the tip of his cock brushing against your overly-sensitive bundle of nerves, both of you huffing through your nostrils until at last he began to sink into you.

Tearing your lips from his, you sucked in gasping breaths at the feel of the foreign intrusion, appreciating the fact that his pace seemed to slow in response to that. Appreciating the pause he afforded you when his pelvis slotted snuggly against yours once he was seated fully inside you. Cracking open your clenched eyes, you gulped tightly as they were immediately met by Bucky’s, crowned by a furrowed brow, but flicking over your features studiously as if awaiting your instruction.

“I’m ok.” You breathed and he nodded, immediately seizing your lips in a kiss once more as he rocked forward, earning a ragged moan as your fingertips dug into the skin of his back.

His familiarity with this sort of activity had always been apparent, but was exceptionally obvious now as he slowly began the rhythmic push and pull to drive you both towards climax. The sheer intimacy of it was too much and yet it was not nearly enough, your body craving ever more, ever faster, with increasing desperation. The rare moments that Bucky’s lips were not on yours, they were filling the room with choked-off moans or statements of the filthiest order.

“God doll, you feel so fucking good around me.”

“So tight. I can feel how wet you are too, even with this rubber on.”

“You’re gonna cum for me, aren’t ya? You’re gripping on me like a…fuck I can’t think when you do that…”

His ability to even speak while experiencing such mind-numbing pleasure, rambling though it was, was fairly awe-inspiring. Your responses were limited to moans and whimpers and cries of his name as his supposition was correct – your orgasm was indeed imminent. All it took was the solicitous stroking of his forefinger against the apex of your pleasure to send you flying over the cliff into paradise, clinging to his body as you cried out in ecstasy.

A string of rasped curses mixed in with several sighs of your name heralded his release as Bucky finished not long after, rocking against you sloppily before sinking down onto your chest with a comforting heaviness. Stroking his back tenderly as he nestled into your neck, you grinned stupidly at the ceiling as you felt quite pleased with your choices.

The pair of you made good use of the rest of the condoms you had brought, with a short break for a meal Bucky procured while you took a bath. He returned with a bottle of brandy as well, finding you still in the bathtub. A lot of water ended up on the floor, a pile of water-logged towels your testament to the attempted clean-up. Eating in bed, you shared stories of your childhoods – Bucky’s about growing up on the shores of Lake Michigan, yours of the small two-storey house with its screen door and front porch from which you had watched your brother play with the neighbourhood boys.

You fell asleep in one another’s arms after the final condom was disposed of, the sun long set, but awoke sometime in the night to the unsettling sound of an air raid siren. Not as common in 1943, yet being as close as you were to Canary Wharves, the Luftwaffe still made the occasional bomb run. Startled to find the bed empty, you sat up sharply to see Bucky sitting in front of the window, completely naked, intermittently illuminated by the flashes of distant explosions and anti-aircraft fire.

“Sorry doll, didn’t mean to wake ya.” He muttered and you shook your head, sliding to the end of the bed.

“You ok?” You tilted your head, blinking into a particularly bright flash.

“Hmmm…” He replied noncommittally, turning back to the scene before him with a frown. “I’ve dropped a lot of those. Done a lot of killing.”

Swallowing tightly, you slid to your feet despite the way your heart was pounding in your throat, padding across the carpet towards him.

“Done your job, Bucky. Done what was asked of you.” You assured him, coming to stand behind him, setting your hands on his shoulders.

“If there’s any balance to all this, my ticket was punched a long time ago.” He muttered sullenly and it was your turn to frown.

Bending down to press a kiss to the crown of his head, you stepped in front of him to block his view, perhaps, hopefully, to block his darker thoughts as you shifted to sit on his thighs.

“Whatcha doin’ doll?” He quirked an eyebrow, mouth falling open in a silent moan as your fingers slid between your bodies to gently stroke his length.

“Lightening up.” You replied, invoking the words of your dead brother’s inscription.

It was impossible to think of a more important piece of advice or a more importance source in that moment. A young man who would never get the chance to spend one more time in his lover’s arms, who knew you better than anyone in the entire world. And you were most certainly going to follow it. You had to be up in less than three hours, to catch the first train to High Wycombe, and you would not pass up this moment with Bucky. The future was unknowable, your brother’s death had certainly taught you that.

Bucky’s fingers curled into your hips as his mouth descended onto yours greedily, clearly in agreement with your plan, despite the lack of remaining condoms. Shuffling closer, you guided his now fully hard cock into your body, your soft noises of pleasure colliding with his in the space between your parted lips. Working together, with plenty of guidance from his firm grip, you began to rocking your hips, using his shoulders for leverage. His head fell back to stare up at you in awe, jaw slack, adam’s apple bobbing viciously.

“Christ, I love you…” His face betrayed such vulnerability, lips trembling slightly, that you quickly lifted your hands to cradle his cheeks, even as your lashes grew suddenly damp.

“I love you too, John. So much.” You replied thickly, rather resenting the dramatic wobble in your voice.

The tiniest of smiles pulled at his lips before his face grew serious once more and he lunged forward to kiss you hungrily, hands anchoring your shoulders so he might thrust up into your body with a sudden need. It was all you could do to hang on, though pleasure itself still managed to sweep you away, leaving you only with the vague recognition of him half pulling out mid-release.

It was terribly difficult to leave him in that comfortable, if messy, bed a few hours later. He did not make it easy either, impossible to untangle from your body like an unwieldy piece of seaweed. Yet somehow you managed to make your trains and arrive at your desk at the appointed hour. Focusing on the task at hand with the pleasurable ache between your legs was altogether another challenge, forcing you to sit on first one hip and then the other.

You had just returned after the lunch break when your phone rang, your greeting barely out of your mouth before Bucky’s question came down the line.

“Did you know you know where they played yesterday’s match?” He asked flatly and it took you several seconds to comprehend that he was speaking in code and just what he was getting at.

You swallowed painfully. “Yes, I did sir.”

Of course you did, you were in the room on Thursday night when they had chosen Bremen as the target for yesterday’s mission.

“A lot of our best players struck out, you know. Buck included.”

He sounded utterly unlike himself, cold and distant, not the man you had left just hours ago in that hotel room in London. All the same, your heart broke for him, and for yourself too. You liked Major Cleven – this war was nothing but cruel.

“I’m so sorry B-Major Egan.” You corrected yourself quickly, eyeing Myrtle across the room.

“Well I hope you all pick a better field for tomorrow’s match because I’m pitching.”

You opened your mouth to reply as your heart dropped through the floor, but the sound of the handset slamming into the cradle resounded over the line before it went dead, giving you no opportunity to speak. To wish him luck or, heaven forfend, goodbye. You hung up your phone with a slightly shaking hand as a deep sense of dread threaded its way through your stomach.

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

Read Part Five - "I Trusted You!"

"Trust" Series Masterlist

Tag list: @gretagerwigsmuse, @precious-little-scoundrel, @rubyfruitjungle, @storysimp, @mads-weasley, @xxanaduwrites, @bcon24, @fxxiva, @slowsweetlove, @hockeyboysarehot, @darylas

[undertale-npcs]

Undertale NPCs tournament Round 2 summary

Round 2 finished up a while ago! Let's catch up on what happened...

The new characters, understandably, were generally more popular than the round 1 NPCs. There are also maybe 1 or 2 outliers who need to be wrangled in, lest they dominate forever. The man says two words the whole game... Let's check out some points of interest:

The most popular character of Round 2 was:

Onionsan!

Onionsan (60.9%) won against Inn Kid (39.1%) with 1556 votes. I have to assume it's because they are an unavoidable encounter. Everyone has interacted with them so many people know them. Maybe. I genuinely don't get it. This was also the { Most Popular Match }, with 2555 total votes!

The least popular character of Round 2 was:

Clam Guy!

Clam Guy (4.2%) lost to River Person (95.8%) with only 51 votes! I think he had the opposite problem as Onionsan, you have to backtrack to a room you have no reason to backtrack through to see him. Also he only talks about water. Not very interesting! This was also the { Most Agreed Upon Match } ! Probably because he was paired with River Person.

The least popular match of Round 1 was:

Fourth Froggit (66.5%) vs Scarf Lady (33.5%)

This match ended up having 653 votes, and was match 26/32. The amount of votes this had is way larger than the first round! I'm glad :) Both of these characters are kinda nothing but I was surprised there wasn't a bigger following for the wall Froggits.

Thank you for your participation!

I should have a summary of Losers Round 1 up soon. Tomorrow perhaps? And Losers Round 2 will be starting later after that!

And, for the nerds, under the cut are the stats for each poll of round 2:

Match 1 | 1005 votes Red Thundersnail 15.9% vs Nice Cream Guy 84.1%

Match 2 | 923 votes Library Loox 24.6% vs Wrap Mouse 75.4%

Match 3 | 1003 votes Business Snail 38.3% vs Politics Bear 61.7%

Match 4 | 1094 votes Cinnamon 34.2% vs Goner Kid 65.8&

Match 5 | 1337 votes Distant Guy 28.8% vs Dress Lion 71.2%

Match 6 | 1158 votes Inn Rabbit 56.1% vs Nacarat Jester 43.9%

Match 7 | 1008 votes Snowdrake's Dad 33.7% vs Ragel 66.3%

Match 8 | 959 votes Wall Eyes 59.9% vs Oni 40.1%

Match 9 | 2151 votes Ruins Mouse 44.9% vs Heat Flamesman 55.1%

Match 10 | 1097 votes Library Lizard 46.6% vs Donut Guy 53.4%

Match 11 | 952 votes Fox Head 27.3% vs Loren 72.7%

Match 12 | 946 votes Hotland Mouse 43% vs Rabbit Girl 57%

Match 13 | 1063 votes Echo Flower Explainer 16.1% vs Grillby 83.9%

Match 14 | 954 votes Gift Bear 70.3% vs Hotdog Harpy 29.7%

Match 15 | 1174 votes Box Lover 25.7% vs Ice Wolf 74.3%

Match 16 | 934 votes Resort Janitor 79.1% vs Wisp-like Business Dude 20.9%

Match 17 | 1316 votes Ferry 18.8% vs Bird That Carries You Over A Disproportionately Small Gap 81.2%

Match 18 | 771 votes Homeless Snail 34.9% vs Wrong Number Song Guy 65.1%

Match 19 | 903 votes Skateboard Girl 51.9% vs Drunk Bun 48.1%

Match 20 | 821 votes Big Mouth 28.6% vs Fuku Fuku Fire 71.4%

Match 21 | 2555 votes Inn Kid 39.1% vs Onionsan 60.9%

Match 22 | 930 votes Father Slime 68.1% vs Kid Slime (unhatted) 31.9%

Match 23 | 951 votes Waterfall Mouse 23.8% vs Snowman 76.2%

Match 24 | 1015 votes Watching Man 88.8% vs Hand Receptionist 11.2%

Match 25 | 1509 votes Thundersnail 54.7% vs Clam Girl 45.3%

Match 26 | 653 votes Fourth Froggit 66.5% vs Scarf Lady 33.5%

Match 27 | 887 votes Snowdin Mouse 60.9% vs Ficus Licker 39.1%

Match 28 | 658 votes Hotland Bakesale Spiders 66.3% vs Rabbit Kid 33.7%

Match 29 | 1220 votes Clam Guy 4.2% vs River Person 95.8%

Match 30 | 863 votes Ruins Bakesale Spiders 62.6% vs Snoring Guys 37.4%

Match 31 | 978 votes Red Bird 52.1% vs Business Manticore 47.9%

Match 32 | 1065 votes FOLLOWER 3 40% vs Rock 60%

[hometoursandotherstuff]

I have never seen such a messed up remodel, I don't even know what to say. It's an 1884 New Orleans, LA home. The remodeled duplex has 3bds, 2ba and they're asking $549K.

The living/dining room combo is so small and weird.

Because this crazy new double staircase is taking up half the space. According to the realtor's description, it's one of five houses built in 1884, and this one has a configuration closest to the original style.

Why the hell would you do this? It's a small house to begin with.

Notice the area upstairs with a railing and curtains. Is that in place of a wall?

Wouldn't just one staircase have been enough?

There's an outdoor walkway to the kitchen on the side of the house.

The kitchen is too small for a table, so meals would be in the dining room.

These two rooms are separated by double French doors.

Small 2nd bedroom is off the bath.

Two room bath. I like floating furniture, but that's just a low hanging cabinet.

Since this is a duplex, the 2nd unit is upstairs, but there doesn't appear to be any doors on the stairs for privacy. This small space is the living/dining combo.

Unit B's kitchen is more like a kitchenette tucked in behind the stair rail.

The bedroom is the largest space and it has a little fireplace.

The bathroom is pretty roomy and has a laundry setup.

The yard is nice and there's a little garden.

https://www.rockethomes.com/homes/1015-louisiana-ave-new-orleans-la-70115?

[itsmebytch001]

Dad! Aaron Davis X Reader Short:

Aaron watched from the kitchen doing dishes as you digitally slit a girls throat in a Japanese bathroom.

Aaron: "what you playing?"

Y/n: "Yandere Simulator"

Aaron: "Yandere what now?"

Y/n: "It's a game where you kill all your love rivals in order to secure your Senpai"

Aaron: "...what?"

Y/n: "what, what?"

Aaron: " 'Senpai' what dose that mean?"

Y/n: "It's a Japanese word for like, someone you look up to and admire I think"

Aaron: "Oh...So I guess I'm your Senpai, you look up to me?"

Y/n: "Ew Pa, no"

...

Aaron: "I don't want you playing a violent game now, you've been on it way too long now"

Y/n: "Yeah right, Mr 1015 hours on COD"

Aaron: "...touch'e"

Y/n: "Now if you excuse me, I gotta saw this girl into little bits then dump her in the incinearator"

He dropped the dish in the sink.

Aaron: "OKAY! no more TV!"

Y/n: "What?! No that's not fair!"

Aaron: "I don't care off it now"

Later that night while your tucked in bed you heard muttering coming form the living room, you peeked through the crack of your door to see your Dad playing Yandere Simulator, using his avatar to push a girl into the air vents turning her into mush.

Aaron: "go near my Man, fuck around and find out you ginger little bitch"

SEND ME MORE REQUETS PLEASE

[thisapplepielife]

Written for @corrodedcoffinfest.

Room 1015 - Gareth

Day #23 - Up and Coming | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: E | CW: Sex | POV: Gareth | Pairing: Gareth/Di (OC) | Tags: Famous Corroded Coffin, Touring, Winding Down After The Gig, New and Exciting Love

1 Night, 4 Rooms Each is standalone, but takes place on the same hotel floor.

Eddie | Goodie | Gareth | Jeff | Steve (Bonus morning after!)

Gareth hears it on both sides, and tries to block out the sound. The last thing he wants to be thinking about is any of his bandmates, his friends, having sex while he's hopefully getting ready to do the same thing himself.

They really need to start booking rooms on different floors. But that would just make more work for Steve, so that's probably not gonna happen. They're on the bus most of the time these days, anyway. Hotels are for special days off, like tonight, because Di was coming in to meet him.

Sounds like they all made good use having rooms tonight. A clean sweep, a home run, the full monty. All of them coming home from the bar with company.

That almost never happens. It's more rare than, well, fuck, just about anything. 

But, one-by-one, they left the bar. First Eddie, but that was with Steve, so that's hardly a surprise and should really be thrown out of all present and future statistics. It's skewing the data. A done deal.

A constant. 

But then Jeff picked up a girl, then another girl kept circling the table, and Gareth couldn't exactly tell if she was trying to catch his eye, or Goodie's.

And it was Goodie she wanted to fuck, apparently.

Gareth wasn't interested anyway, but still. Way to make him feel like the last loser left behind. Goodie eventually struck up a conversation with her at the bar, and then he was gone, too. 

And that left Gareth, all alone to pay the tab that the rest of them conveniently left for him. He didn't even drink tonight, not wanting to be sloshed when Di showed up, so having to pay the entire tab was really kind of fucked.

Now, he's on the bed in his own room, waiting. Somewhat patiently. This thing between them in still pretty new, and long distance, but hot and fucking heavy. Maybe he should check with the front desk again. Make sure she's not waiting. He left very specific instructions that she was to be given a key and let up. 

When the door finally swings open, Di's standing there in a floral sundress that she immediately strips over her head, leaving her in her bra and panties, as soon as her suitcase hits the floor. 

And he's lucky. 

Very, very lucky.

She crawls up on the bed, and straddles his thighs. Pressing right down against him. He runs his hands all over her back, just wanting to touch her.

"I missed you," he says.

Her flight was delayed, and she missed the show. They were both disappointed about that, but she's here now.

"I missed you, too," Di says, rocking on his clothed dick. "I'm sorry I missed the show. I tried. Believe it or not, you can't just talk your way onto a plane with a sob story."

Gareth laughs. If anyone could, it'd be her, though. 

He wishes she'd made it, but knows it was totally out of her control. If Steve couldn't make it happen, it was impossible. That much Gareth knows. There'll be other shows. A lifetime of them, maybe.

At least they'll have tomorrow, a day off, together. It's a travel day, so they'll have to get on the bus, but he's called dibs on the back bedroom. The only bit of privacy. 

She feels good on him, and he knows they could both get off like this, have, they are that fucking horny for each other. He met his match in her, somehow. And he wants more, but has other plans first. He anchors himself, rolling them, flipping her onto her back. Settling between her thighs. 

She laughs, touching his forehead, brushing his hair back. He yanks down her panties and breathes in the smell of her, as his tongue gets to work. He didn't need to drink tonight at the bar, he'll get drunk on her.

It's his favorite thing. Always has been, always will be. 

Eating pussy. That's his gift. Well, and drumming. Equal talents, he's pretty sure. 

He loves her. 

He hasn't told her that, it's probably too soon. But he's loved her since the first night, he's quickly realizing. Love at first sight always seemed like such bullshit, even after he basically saw it happen with Eddie and Steve.

He still didn't believe.

Now, he thinks he just might.

His tongue licking upwards, then back down, delving inside her, getting her even wetter than she already is. Wanting to make her happy, wanting to make her come, over and over. 

He circles her clit with the tip of his tongue, and her breathing changes. Raggedy, as she works towards an orgasm, thighs shaking around his ears. 

She's quiet, though. Unlike whatever the fuck is happening in the room next door. Goodie ain't that good in bed. No way in hell. 

He pushes it out of his mind, focusing only on Di. She makes a breathy noise and clenches around his ears, coming. 

If he keeps it up, he might be about to stretch it into a second.

She cards her fingers through his hair, rubbing his scalp, "Gare. Now." 

He's happy right where he is, but he comes up, reluctantly, and can smell her on his upper lip in a way that makes his dick throb as he reaches for a condom, rolling it down. He expects to slide on top of her, but she's climbing on his lap, guiding herself down onto his cock. 

"Like that," she says, and he'll continue to do anything she wants, for as long as she'll let him. Forever, even. 

Chest-to-chest, she's just rolling her hips, fucking him. He hugs her close, both hands on her back, his face buried in her neck. 

She's perfect. He doesn't know how he existed before her, honestly. He knows he's got lots of shit, lots of baggage, and he's nowhere near perfect.

But he wants to keep her, keep them. 

He really, really wants to love her. 

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @corrodedcoffinfest and follow along with the fun! 🦇

[madame-midnight]

Take me home - Wolftar, Dystopian AU - 1015 words - Angst

Decades and decades ahead of this time, the world is not the same anymore; the streets have more garbage than pedestrians, more automobiles than parking lots and are brighter at night rather than during daytime.

The only things that are still the same are the people; there are still the riches and the declassed, there are still the revolutions and the injustices and there are still the anger and the love.

Remus Lupin was one of those revolutionaries, the ones who made freedom their motto and repeated it so many times that the movement’s veterans didn’t really know what it meant. They went out into the night alleys making uproar, breaking showcases and singing anarchy anthems, as if calling the darkness to follow them in their journey against the system — something that nobody dared to try explain or understand, or even find out the controlling source which dictated the rules the soldiers fulfilled and inflicted with so much pride.

Therefore, it was quite surprising when Remus, so faithful to the revolutionary principles, showed up at all plasma screens tuned in channel 3, up in the mezzanine of an event led by the country's fortunate elite, right next to the most famous singer of the New World which, by any chance, is The Governor's son.

He was the quiet one amongst the big shots, anyway, and it wouldn’t be impossible, despite outrageous, for him to be a traitor, mainly after not showing up so often in the meetings and having a light-headed behavior in those last times, keeping himself silent in the decision-making and don’t even noticing when the reunions came to an end, keeping up sat in the empty room, gazing the air with dilated pupils and a heavy heart. The suspicion ended, though, when the team started getting inside information from an unknown anonymous under the acronym R.L., while Remus disappeared completely from the rebels' day-to-day life.

He didn’t disappear, though, from the media camera sights, being even more present in the most miscellaneous events, camouflaging himself in the crowd of wealthy and faking formidably their content and fulsome expressions, always with Sirius, the pearl of the acclaimed Orion Black — The Governor Of The New World  —, an admired and obedient son.

– You’re feigning again – Sirius said through clenched teeth, while smiling at someone in the crowd, lifting his glass lightly as a greeting.

Remus flexed his shoulder uncomfortably:

– It’s not like you’re that much truthful all the time, dear – he swallows a little gulp from the glass in his hand, disliking the drink a bit but without any mood to search for another.

– You know this is not what I’m talking about, – the prince turn to the golden (and not so bright like once) eyes of his lover – you’re feigning when you’re with me the same way you feign when you’re with them – he points to the gathering around them tilting his head discreetly.

Remus dodges his gaze, sipping the fancy drink again, as if the disgusting taste would distract him from the chat, as if drinking from the bitter goblet was a fair punishment for not being enough for what the situation required, maybe. Sirius’ voice resonates again, like a sweet lullaby, soft and smooth, like it have always sounded to the ears of the rebel:

– I miss you.

– You wouldn’t miss so much if you were at home more than once a month. – rebates quickly, his words snapping in Sirius’ mind painfully – You wouldn’t miss me so much if you didn’t make me miss you, if you didn’t leave me alone in that white and numb place you dare to call home.

– I don’t have another choice, Remus, I need to do this so I won’t rely on my father anymore, so he will choose my brother rather than me to be the next Governor. Success makes me further from the authority position and you know that.

The bitter taste of the drink now was mixing up with the bitterness of annoyance, going down like bile in the back of Lupin's throat.

– And when I say that I miss you I’m talking about the Remus I met that night, the one that never took me seriously and was always ready to talk nonsense with a grin in his face and eyes brighter than the moon.

Sirius held the boy gently by the jaw, directing the gaze to himself. The place burned with a mixture between rebuff and desire.

– You show me off everywhere you go, but I still feel like your dirty little secret. Just ‘cause your conscience is clean from the need of hiding me, it doesn’t mean I don’t feel hidden. – Remus stares at the silver and sad eyes of his lover, taking the hand off his face – You brought me into your misery and expected I wouldn’t become miserable too.

An unpleasant silence made its presence between them, just before a slow song started playing in the huge tapering loudspeakers high at the top of the hall, inviting the couples to the dance floor. Sirius takes Remus hand in his own, pulling him lightly to the middle of the crowd, smiling a grin that didn’t meet his eyes.

– Come on, let’s dance, you’ll feel better.

The rebel could untangle himself, get out of there with heavy steps, leave his pair standing in the middle of the party. He could if he really wanted to.

But even with the fake smile and the eyes full of sorrow contrasting with the outstanding red garment and the dark curls framing his angular face, Sirius was still a set of singularities very pleasing to the eyes, was still the same man that made a libertarian try to fit-in an authoritarian system, even though this very same man never once asked him to. He was still too much for Remus to resist.

So he gave in, the same way he’s been doing since the night the New World’s pearl, too drunk to be coherent, whispered in his ear after a kiss shared in the back of a noisy bar:

– Take me home.

[xsavannahx987]

TS3 CONVERSION - STORYBOOK LIVING ROOM

All CC on this pack are base game compatible.

11 items

divine divan - new mesh, 3 swatches, all lods and shadow (low poly). Fully tested in game. Cost 1100$

in the park by awalck - new mesh. 3 swatches, all lods and shadow (low poly). Fully tested in game. Cost 395$

octagonal end table - new mesh, 3 swatches, all lods and shadow (low poly). Fully tested in game. Cost 240$

once upon a glowy glowy lamp - new mesh, 2 swatches, all lods and shadow (low poly). Fully tested in game. Cost 130$

romantique chaise - new mesh. 3 swatches, all lods and shadow (low poly). Fully tested in game. Cost 760$

romantique coffee table - new mesh. 3 swatches, all lods and shadow (low poly). Fully tested in game. Cost 110$

romantique floor mirror - new mesh. 3 swatches, all lods and shadow (low poly). Fully tested in game. Cost 70$

romantique telephone table - new mesh. 3 swatches, all lods and shadow (low poly). Fully tested in game. Cost 85$

statue of an unknown seamstress - new mesh. 3 swatches, all lods and shadow (low poly). Fully tested in game. Cost 1015$

superlative sofa - new mesh, 3 swatches, all lods and shadow (low poly). Fully tested in game. Cost 1660$

whodunnit curtains - new mesh, 3 swatches, all lods and shadow (low poly). Fully tested in game. Cost 100$

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