#yes i am sitting here alone in my apartment on the verge of tears imagining pen walking down the aisle to this

[waltricia]

I haven’t been paying much attention to what people are speculating the season 3 songs are going to be, but I imagine that there’s been plenty of discourse about Yellow by Coldplay. Part of me does think it would be a bit on the nose, but ultimately I don’t care because JUST LISTEN TO THIS SONG AND TELL ME IT WOULDN’T BE PERFECT FOR POLIN’S WEDDING I DARE YOU

[alt-rose]

take a break | colson baker

colson baker imagine

take a break - you’re studying for the MCAT, and he reminds you of the importance of selfcare.

warnings: none? language? school stress? 

it wasn’t unusual for Colson’s living room to be a mess. from all the ragers that he’s thrown to the guys’ weekly get together, the living room was bound to be trashed. empty bottles and glasses usually littered every surface with rolling papers and ash spread thoroughly in between.

however, the mess that currently inhabited the living room was not Colson or the guys’ doing. it was yours. you had taken over the living room, claiming it as your study zone.

you were currently studying for the MCAT, which you were taking in a few weeks. Colson had been so supportive when you decided to visit him during the important time in your academic career, and you were only asking for a few hours a day to yourself so that you could study for your upcoming test. you promised that you would spend the rest of your time with him since you were spending your spring break camped out at his place and would eventually need to head back to school.

he was so proud of you, and he was incredibly impressed with your work ethic. applying to medical school was not an easy feat, and you had worked your ass off to get to where you are today, which is something that he could relate to.

so, Colson let you trash his living room. he had banished the guys from his house for the duration of your break (or at least, kept them out of your study zone), and he even cleared out when you had planned to study, usually spending his time in the studio working on his next album.

when he was gone, you spent your day drowning in study guides and practice tests. your papers were sprawled out on the living room floor as you used the coffee table as your desk. you had pens and highlighters buried within the mess. you had your textbooks cracked open to whatever page that you had frantically flipped to when you couldn’t remember something. mugs with day-old coffee and empty fruit snack pouches were abandoned on the end tables by the couch.

it was safe to say that you absolutely destroyed his living room.

--

             “I’m going to head to the studio for a few hours.”

peering up from your place on the floor, you watched as Colson zipped up his jacket and shoved his wallet and keys into his pockets.

             “text me if you need anything?” he suggested before making his way over to you, leaning down to plant a kiss on the top of your head.

             “sure,” you murmur before pulling him down to kiss his cheek.

             “don’t study too hard,” he joked, earning a stressed laugh from you.

the both of you knew that asking you not to study hard was like asking you not to breathe. both are necessary for your survival.

after he left, you decided to use the silence to your advantage, and you began to take another practice exam. that exam then turned into taking another exam when you didn’t score as well as you had hoped, and then you were spiraling.

you scoured your study guides and notes to review the material you had missed. your eyes were burning from the strain, and your head was beginning to pound. you were digging yourself a hole in your insecurities. you had broken down into tears twice now from the stress. you were dizzy and nauseous from forgetting to eat; not that you really had the stomach for it right now anyway. you don’t even remember the last time you got up to use the bathroom.

when Colson came home after 9 hours at the studio, he found you in the same position that you were in when he left. you were hunched over your books. your blue light glasses had slid down your nose, and your hair was a mess. leaving you to finish whatever you were working on, he made his way to the kitchen to clean up whatever mess that you had left him, only to find that there were no dishes in the sink. the kitchen hadn’t been touched since that morning.

             “hey,” he began as he made his way back to the living room. “did you eat anything today?”

you only hummed a response as you flipped through one of your notebooks, completely ignoring him. finding what you were looking for, you jotted a note down on one of your study guides.

             “hey,” Colson tried to get your attention once more as he took a seat on the floor across the table from you. he watched your eyes flick up to him briefly before they directed their attention back to the work in front of you. “dude.”

             “Col, give me a minute to finish this up, and I’ll talk to you then,” you snap at him as you take a few more notes.

Colson let out a sigh as he watched you go back and forth from your notebook to your textbook. he chose to sit and scroll through twitter while he waited for you to finish, but after 20 minutes had passed, he knew that you weren’t going to stop anytime soon.

             “jesus,” he muttered to himself as he put his phone down on top of some of your papers on the table. “have you taken a break at all today? have you eaten? looked out a window?”

you scoffed at him.

             “I don’t have time for breaks, Colson,” you said coldly. “I have to study because I have to take this test in a few weeks – a test, might I add, that will define my future – and I am not even remotely prepared for it. my practice scores are decreasing. I can’t remember any of this material. my notes are shit. and, I am going to fucking fail, which means I am not going to get into medical school, and all of my years of working my ass off in school will mean absolutely nothing. I cannot just take a break when I have everything at stake here.”

you both took a beat. you were taken aback by your sudden outburst. yeah, you meant every word of it, but you hadn’t meant for it to come out so harshly. and, you definitely didn’t mean to snap at Colson, who had been so supportive of your goals from the beginning. he was kind of shocked by your snappy attitude.

             “I understand,” he broke the silence. “I understand that you are really stressed, and I know that you have a lot of pressure on you. I just want to help, and I think taking an hour to eat and do something other than tear apart your notes would help.” he gently placed his hand on top of yours. “it’s late. I’m tired. you have to be tired. let’s call it a night. I’ll make you something to eat, and then you can turn your brain off for a few hours. killing yourself over this work won’t improve your scores-”

             “Colson,” you interrupted, pulling your hand away from him. “I just need to review a bit more.”

             “no,” he said sternly. “you need to rest. self-care and all that shit is just as important as studying.” he stood up from his spot on the floor, now towering over you. “come on, get up.” you gave him an annoyed look, practically telling him to F off. “no, come on, don’t give that shit. get up.”

he moved to your side of the table, and he pulled you up from the floor, despite your protests. to keep you from running back to your work, he threw you over his shoulder, and you yelped from surprise.

             “put me down,” you whine, pounding your fists on his back. “you’re being a jerk.”

Colson carried you up the stairs toward his bedroom before finally setting you down in his ensuite. you landed on your feet quite ungracefully, only for Colson to pick you back up to place you on the counter. the two of you stared at each other for a moment. you glared while Colson silently challenged you to make a run for it.

he raised an eyebrow at you once he was sure you would stay before turning to the bathtub. he turned the water on and waited for it to heat up before stopping the drain.

when he finally turned back to you, he found you slumped over with your eyes fixated on the floor, as if you were trying to micro nap while you waited. he suddenly felt less confident in leaving you to take a relaxing bath alone while he fixed you up something to eat, now knowing that you were on the verge of sleep.

gently placing a hand on your cheek, he moved to hold you close while the tub began to fill. he rested his chin on the top of your head while you tucked yourself into his chest.

             “was gonna leave you to take a bath, but I don’t want to leave you to drown in the tub if you’re going to fall asleep on me,” he murmured into your hair.

you let out a tired (and slightly loopy) laugh.

             “you might have to join me,” you murmur into his shoulder.

             “okay.”

with that, he moved to pull out two towels and dropped some fancy bath salts into the tub before finally moving to help you off the counter. he helped you slip out of your clothes before moving to undress himself, and then the two of you climbed into the tub together.

you sat with your back resting against his chest, and your head was resting against his shoulder. he let you close your eyes for a few minutes, allowing you to take a small nap. while you laid against him with your eyes closed, he gently ran a soapy washcloth against your skin to wipe away the fact that you hadn’t showered in at least two days.

             “still with me?” Colson hummed lightly.

you nodded against his chest.

             “do you want me to wash your hair?”

             “yes, please.”

Colson’s heart melted at how small your voice sounded. wordlessly, he gently moved you forward so that he could rinse and wash your hair with the detachable showerhead. you rested between his knees while he ran his hands through your hair. you were seconds from falling asleep, his motions slowly luring you to sleep. once he was finished with you, he let you rest your head against his propped-up knee while he quickly rinsed and washed himself.

he watched you carefully as he moved to unplug the drain and to hang up the showerhead before gently running a hand over your cheek. you opened your eyes at his touch.

             “ready to get out?” he asked softly, only receiving a sleepy nod from you.

he got out first, quickly wrapping a towel around his waist before holding your towel out for you. you stepped into the towel and let him wrap you up. after taking a minute to dry off, Colson grabbed the robe he got for you the last time you came to visit, and he wrapped it around you after taking your towel to expertly wrap your wet hair up in it.

you sat on the bathroom counter, slowly doing your skin care routine while he took a moment to dry himself off and put on a pair of boxers.

“you okay if I go fix you up something to eat?” Colson asked from the doorway, watching you apply your moisturizer.

“I’m okay,” you give him a small smile. “thanks, Cols.”

once you were finished, you dragged yourself to his bed, still wrapped in your robe with no motivation to put your pajamas on. you curled up against the pillows, letting yourself rest your eyes for a moment, while you waited for Colson.

             “I made you a sandwich.”

you opened your eyes to find Colson kneeling on the bed next to you with a plate in his hand. you move to sit up to let him lean against the pillows next to you.

             “you’re a saint,” you laugh lightly as you lean into his side.

             “hardly a saint,” he laughed back at you as he handed you half of your sandwich while he grabbed half of his.

             “a god?” you suggest taking the sandwich from him.

             “maybe.” he raised his slice to you. “cheers.”

             “cheers,” you laugh as you bump your sandwich against his. you took a moment to take your first bite. “oooo,” you call to him covering you mouth as you finish your bite. “you’re an angel. that’s what you are?”

             “alright, you noob, knock it off,” he smiled at you. “if anyone’s an angel here, it’s you.”

             “yeah, yeah, okay, you sap,” you nod back him before taking a bite.

the two of you let a comfortable silence fall over you as you finished your sandwiches. once you were both finished, Colson placed the plate on his nightstand before turning his attention back to you, only to find you already tucked under the covers. following you, he slipped under the covers before situating himself comfortably on his pillows. he pulled you into his chest, and you rested your head on his chest.

             “thank you,” you murmur.

             “for what?” he lightly stroked your damp hair.

             “you always take care of me. I love you for that.”

             “I’ll always take care of my girl.”

you lightly ran a hand up his arm, tracing his tattoos.

             “you’re going to be a great doctor one day-”

             “Cols,” you sigh with a defeated feeling sinking into your chest.

             “I mean it,” he told you. “you’re so smart, and I know this is a really stressful time for you, and it’s really difficult for you, but I know you’re going to do great on your test. you’ve been studying nonstop for weeks. you know you’re prepared, and I know it may not feel like it because you’ve been taking so many practice tests and stuff, but I think a break would do you some good. you need a fresh start. get out of your head for a bit, you know? take a day to get out and have fun, and then you can go back to studying for the rest of the break.”

             “Cols.”

             “spend the day with me tomorrow. we can go to the beach, or we can go hiking, or shopping, or anything you want to do. let me get you out of this house.”

you let out a sigh, taking a moment to think. he wasn’t wrong. you needed to get out, and you needed a break.

             “okay,” you sigh into his chest.

             “good,” he smiled to himself as he wrapped his arms tightly around you. “now sleep.”

             “don’t have to tell me twice,” you laugh lightly before nuzzling yourself into his chest so that you weren’t putting any strain on your neck. he reached a hand up and turned off the lamp, and darkness fell on both of you. “hey Cols?”

             “hmmm?”

             “I love you.”

             “I love you too, (Y/N/N).”

.

.

.

hope you enjoyed! i took a break from some schoolwork to finish this piece. college is hard, my dudes. feel free to send requests! - rose xx

[seok-jinnies]

one | myg

min yoongi x reader, jeon jungkook x reader ;

angst, light fluff ; wc : ~2.6k

warnings: some swearing

in all his years of existing, min yoongi doesn’t think he has ever loved someone as much as he loves you. after all, he knows, deep in his soul, that you’re the one for him.

however, jeon jeongguk also thinks that you are the one for him, so yoongi might have more than a few problems with that.

Just like that, Yoongi thinks, you’re slipping through his fingers once again. He wants to throw up. Or pass out. Or straight up die. One of the three would be preferable.  

He hadn’t meant to overhear… he had just wanted to come see you. Maybe surprise you with burgers from your favorite diner two blocks away. You had mentioned that you weren’t feeling well at all, and that you were in dire need of a pick me up. Yoongi doesn’t know why he immediately hauled ass to that diner you loved so much just to get you a burger and some fries, especially when you had a boyfriend who could do it for you.

Said boyfriend went by the name of Jeon Jeongguk, an irritating photographer who happened to have a knack for literally everything in the world. It’s almost a bit unfair, how good he was at everything, but at least he treated you well, so at least there was that.

On second thought, it wasn’t just a bit unfair, it was really fucking unfair. Jeongguk had loved you for what? Two, three years? And here he was, living the life of Yoongi’s dreams. Waking up with you, making breakfast with you, just being with you in general. Yoongi almost wants to cry at the thought.

Going back to the matter at hand, Yoongi recalls with startling clarity the moment he had heard Jeongguk’s voice. He was just about to round the corner to yours and Jeongguk’s shared apartment when he heard it. 

“...listen, she can’t know, alright? Whatever happens, (Y/N) cannot find out.” Jeongguk’s voice was hushed, and warning flags were raising at the back of Yoongi’s mind. Was he cheating on you? Pissed, he stopped in his tracks, listening intently. 

“...what?” Jeongguk continues. “Yeah, yeah. I’ve got the ring ready. Am I…? Of course I am. I love her. I want to spend the rest of my life with her. She’s the one, hyung. She’s the one.”

Oh, Yoongi thinks. Oh.

The burger and fries are left on the stairwell.

-

The first time Min Yoongi meets you is on his birthday. Winter was on its last breaths, and he was grateful. No one told him that twenty-five was the age when all your joints started to ache like a grandpa, and he hated it severely. The cold wasn’t helping him much with joint pain either.

It was snowing too, so Yoongi had to make sure to actually wear a coat. It looked like his days of wearing a t-shirt and ripped jeans out in the snow were long gone.

There was nothing special about the day he met you. Perhaps, it was so that you could stand out even more. Not that you needed help standing out; you were already breathtaking on your own. With cosmic assistance? You were absolutely lethal.

He had a camera that day, if only to humor his friend, Jimin, who was devastated that he was spending his birthday alone. You have to at least take pictures, okay? He had insisted through a very static-y phone call the night before. Prove to me that you went out for your birthday. Treat yo self! Jimin squealed. Yoongi had to pull his headphones off at that.

You were sitting on a bench, talking on the phone. You were laughing, and for one cliche moment, Yoongi’s heart stopped. Maybe it was the sunlight hitting you just right, or maybe it was your (frankly contagious) laughter, but he was pretty sure you were almost too pretty to exist. 

His hands moved before he could think too much of it, and before he knew it he had taken a picture of you.

There was no sign that you had noticed, and Yoongi almost felt ashamed at the action. He decided to approach you, show you the picture and then ask if he could keep it. However, you stood up the moment he took a step forward. You left, never to be seen again.

Well, not really.

You were a friend of a friend who then introduced the two of you to each other. He was overjoyed of course, but as much as Yoongi wanted to convince himself that it had nothing to do with how pretty you were and everything to do with showing you the picture, it was definitely because he was so smitten with you that he actually forgot his name when you introduced yourself.

(And that day, Yoongi decided that it was love at first sight. Or second. Whatever. He was in love, anyways.)

-

It’s at your birthday party when he decides. He’s going to tell you. He’s going to confess.

Maybe not now, not tonight, but someday.

You look stunning, he decides. You were wearing this red off-shoulder dress which fell to your knees, and some heels which Yoongi knew must be hell on earth for you. You never did like heels.

Your apartment was filled with your friends, some from college and some from work, he deducts, as he meets eyes with a couple of strangers. He smiles awkwardly and turns back to his drink, searching for a familiar face when⁠—

“Yoongi!” You call out happily. The stiff excuse for a smile he had plastered on his face melted into something more genuine as he faced you. “Hello, flower.”

Your already rosy cheeks flush more from the endearment and Yoongi chuckles. He used to tease you about your love for plants and wanted to give you a nickname related to it. Unfortunately, calling you ‘cactus’ just didn’t have that air of lovesickness that he was aiming for, so ‘flower’ would have to do.

You pull him into a hug and he grumbles for a moment, pretending to hate it. You know that he loves hugs, though, and you just laugh and hold him tighter. He can only hope you can’t tell how hard his heart was pounding.

When you pull away, he misses your warmth almost immediately. “How are you?” You grin. “Enjoying the party so far?”

He lets out a small laugh. “You know, I should be the one asking you that, birthday girl. Although, I am surprised you went for a party this year instead of the usual dinner.”

“Actually…” you pause, smiling sheepishly. “I didn’t want a party either. Jeongguk just thought it would be nice since it could double as a little celebration for my promotion as well.”

Ah. The promotion. Yoongi remembers when you had just graduated college, desperately trying to get into the industry you wanted. You used to cry over every rejection email, but now…  You were doing great, and he couldn’t be more proud of you. Regardless, he grins at your admission.

“Knew it.” He teases, and you mock grumble at him before smiling again, looking away. Meanwhile, Yoongi couldn’t take his eyes off of you. He could only pray that no one could tell he was giving you heart eyes.

“Babe!” Jeongguk’s voice cuts through the comfortable silence between you two. Yoongi can’t tell if it’s just his personal bias against the guy, but he was really fucking irritating. Add that to the fact that you used to call Yoongi ‘babe’ before Jeongguk started calling you that, and Yoongi was starting to get more than a little pissed. Another thing to add to the list of things Jeongguk had stolen from him.

But were you ever his to begin with? A voice in Yoongi’s mind whispers.

Shut up, he hisses back.

“Cake time!” Jeongguk calls out again, and you shoot Yoongi an apologetic grin as you leave his side and approach your golden retriever of a boyfriend.

People begin to gather around you as Jeongguk holds the cake for you with the candles lit up. You’re grinning, and while Yoongi doesn’t sing along, he is staring at you with the most lovesick look in his eyes that he’s sure if anyone were to see him, they would know.

His mind begins to drift as he imagines a world where he’s the one holding your cake. Maybe you would smear some icing on his cheek after blowing the candles out. Would you two be the absolutely cheesy couple everyone pretended to hate but were actually jealous of? Maybe. And you know what, Yoongi would actually love that. He would⁠—

He hears Jeongguk say your name, and when he focuses, Jeongguk is down on one knee and his heart falls.

“...you are the best thing to ever happen to me. You don’t just make me a better person, you make me want to be a better person for me. For you. I wake up in the morning and I want to cry because I feel so goddamn lucky that you chose me. Out of all the people in this universe, you chose me. You saw me, and you took care of me, and you loved me. You gave me the world, (Y/N), but I want to give you the universe.” Jeongguk pauses, and even from a distance, Yoongi can see that the younger man has tears in his eyes.

So does Yoongi. His ears are ringing, and all he can do is watch as Jeongguk asks the million dollar question:

“(Y/N), will you marry me?”

SIlence, and then:

“Yes!”

His heart shatters into a million pieces.

-

Min Yoongi was a coward, that much he knew. 

After five years of loving you silently (and multiple times of flirting with each other), he was done. Time to move on. It’s been half a decade, and he was never sure if you felt the same way. Maybe you did, but he didn’t want to risk losing you.

So he did the thing most people would do after deciding to move on: get absolutely shitfaced at the nearest bar.

Truth be told, even now, three and a half years later, he did not remember what happened that night. He assumes he had a one night stand, if the woman he woke up to was any evidence. 

What he did not expect was you barging into his apartment, demanding to see him because you needed to tell him⁠—

What you wanted to tell him, Yoongi would never know, because when you asked if the girl in the bathroom was his girlfriend, he had the stupid idea to lie and tell you that yes, she is my girlfriend. Just made it official last night.

He was too damn proud of himself being able to “move on” from you to see you deflate. In a span of seconds, you went from excited to the verge of tears. When you heard the bathroom door open, you hurriedly excused yourself and booked it out of his apartment.

What Yoongi didn’t know was that you were going to confess.

But as you power walk out of his apartment complex, you come to the conclusion, that maybe, just maybe, he’s just not into you. And you were merely boo boo the fool.

After that, texts between you and Yoongi were sparse. You stopped hanging out. You stopped sending each other memes at three in the morning. You just stopped… seeing each other.

By the time Yoongi pulled his head out of his ass and sucked it up, it had been a year, and you had a sparkly new boyfriend named Jeon Jeongguk.

-

Yoongi decided that this was, quite possibly, the worst year of his life. Nothing like watching the love of your life get engaged to someone else, and then be forced to watch her marry someone else months afterwards to really rub the salt in.

But then again, you aren’t Mrs. Jeon. Yet, anyways, Yoongi thinks bitterly. In less than twenty four hours, he will truly have lost you, and this time, there’s no getting you back.

And so, like the genius that he was, he decides to call you. In the middle of the night. To the local park. Why? Honestly, Yoongi had no idea. He just wanted, needed to see you one last time.

When you arrive, the park is silent. You look adorable, Yoongi thinks fondly, but even that innocent thought was enough to make tears well up in his eyes. God, he was so in love with you it hurt.

“(Y/N),” he begins once you’re close enough to hear. “I need to tell you something⁠—”

“Yoongi,” you whisper. You look pained, he notes.”Don’t⁠—”

“Don’t what?” He cuts you off, scoffing. The tears begin to fall. “Don’t say it? You don’t want me to tell you about how I’ve been in love with you my whole life? You don’t want me to tell you how much I wish it was me you’re marrying tomorrow?” He wipes at his tears angrily. “What do you want me to do?” 

He breathes in raggedly, looking up to the sky in desperation. When he looks back at you, your heart breaks for him.

“Flower, I can’t.” He begs. “I can’t let you go. I can’t lose you. Not again. Please⁠—” A sob tears through his throat. “I love you.”

He feels your hands cup his face, wiping at the wetness on his skin. He’s almost grateful that he can’t see you through his tears, because he knows you’re crying too. He hated seeing you cry.

“Yoongi,” you say softly. “I love you too, but we can’t. We’ve been dancing around this for almost a decade, babe. Our time has passed, Yoongi⁠⁠.” Your hands have moved, one on his waist and another on the back of his neck. When he sees your tears, he finally breaks. He collapses into your arms, sobbing, grasping at you desperately. 

When you speak next, your voice is muffled as you comb through his hair with one hand and pull him closer with the other. “I will always love you, Yoongi. Always.” You say fiercely, surely, and Yoongi almost wants to believe you. “But I love Jeongguk too. He…” You pause, trying to find the right words. “He’s the one for me.” You admit, and Yoongi hates it so much because you were the one for him. 

The two of you slowly sink onto the ground, with your arms still around him as he cries. For losing you, for being too late, and for what could have been. His sobs echo in the empty park and you cry with him.

When his sobs die down and his breathing gets calmer, he pulls away from your embrace. When your arms fall to the sides, he moves closer to you, pressing his forehead to yours, eyes closed. “I love you,” he whispers, and he’s so close you can feel his breath on your face. “I will always love you.”

When your eyes flutter open, his eyes meet yours. 

Around you, the snow begins to fall. 

“I…” You breathe out. “I should go. Jeongguk’s waiting for me at home.”

He nods slowly. “Okay,” he whispers. “Okay. Get home safely.”

You nod and stand up, offering a hand. He shakes his head and stands up on his own.

No words are said.

You nod, and turn to leave. When your figure disappears into the night, Yoongi lets his tears fall once more.

“Goodbye, flower,” he whispers into the night. The wind blows.

I love you.

[lu-undy]

Un-alone, Chapter 8

Here it is!

The taxi stopped a few streets away and Lucien exited it. He paid the driver and looked at his reflection on the window. His hair wasn’t all black but it was tidy. He carded it back with a precise hand and put on his fake glasses - one could never be too careful - before turning to the streets. 

He had asked the driver to stop far away to have a look at the surroundings first. This wasn’t the part of town that Lucien ever imagined Marie lived in. Whenever he had escorted her back home, it was far from here, in an entirely different neighbourhood. And for the bit of time that they shared, this was absolutely not where Lucien was renting their flat. 

So the rent money never made it to the rent, huh? 

Thanks for another lie, Mary.

Lucien sighed. 

He remembered how he used to leave her at what he thought was her apartment, the same he was sending her the rent for every month, as well as a lump of money for Jérémy and her. How wrong and gullible he had been…

Lucien walked along the dirty streets, along wooden fences eaten by mold and grey, cement walls with washed out and torn out posters. There were a few shops, here and there, nothing outstanding at all. Everything looked like it needed a few layers of paint at least, or a complete revamp.

“Hey, Jay, if you hit that ball, I’ll give you somethin’ you won’t regret!”

Lucien’s ears pricked up and he looked on his right. A park. There was a park and in the middle of the young mothers pushing their prams, he had heard Jérémy's name and turned his head to where it had come from. A bit further was a baseball pitch. 

"Alright, where d'you want me to hit it?"

Lucien approached and saw a group of young adults playing. Some had a bottle in their hands, others, cigarettes. Lucien could smell them as he got closer and winced. He liked his cigarettes to be of a certain quality and certainly, made with tobacco and no other funny leaves… 

"Try and land it on Johnny's head…!" 

Lucien observed it all from a bench. 

"Johnny's head?! You want me to die?! The guy's twice my size and trains boxing for half his weeks!" Jérémy protested. 

Impulsive and speaks before he thinks. Typical of a young man of his age, Lucien thought. 

"Yeah, well, if you can't do it, then you won't land the job that I have for you, eh."

Lucien raised a surprised eyebrow and Jérémy did the same. 

"What kind of job?" The son asked. 

"The kind of job that'll turn you rich straight up!" His friend said. 

Father and son had very different reactions this time. Lucien frowned while Jérémy's eyes widened in excitement. 

"But if you don't want it, I can do it myself and take the money, eh?"

"Shut up and just throw the ball…!" Jérémy answered and his father watched as he got himself ready and focused, grasping the bat in his hands confidently and turning his cap backwards. 

Lucien couldn't hold back and rolled his eyes. His son did not inherit his sense of style at all… White tee-shirt with a logo printed on it that started to peel off with a pair of light blue jeans peppered with holes. 

Jérémy's friend threw the ball and the Bostonian hit it without fail. Lucien followed the arc that the ball traced in the sky before it landed on another man's head. 

"Got it! Ha!" Jérémy exclaimed, triumphant. 

"Who the fuck hit me with their ball?!" 

"Oh…" Jérémy's smile disappeared. 

"That's Jay." His friend answered with a vicious smirk.

"Wh - shut up! No! It ain't me!"

The impressively built Johnny started walking towards Jérémy and the young man darted off, still holding his bat. Lucien observed the chase through the park. 

Jérémy had the speed for himself and him being light, he knew he could jump quite higher than pile-of-muscle Johnny too. There was a bench. Both jumped over it effortlessly before Jérémy took a sharp turn and changed direction. He was running…

...Towards Lucien. 

The Frenchman kept his calm, force of professional habit and watched. Jérémy ran to him at full speed without any intent to stop. Lucien did not even flinch and the young man leapt over him like a gazelle chased by a tiger. 

He couldn't hold back a slight smirk. 

Lucien then decided that he had seen enough and stood up, stopping Johnny short. The big man started to divert his course to run around the bench. Lucien anticipated it and put his foot on the ground. As expected, the young man tripped and fell. 

He grumbled and pushed himself back to his feet, still as angry as a bull until he felt a hand, gentle yet firm on his chest. 

"If I were you, I would stop the chase now." Lucien said calmly.

"And who the fuck are you?" 

"Someone who doesn't need a tenth of your muscle mass to stop you, young man." 

"Yeah, well, that's none of your business. Get off of me, old man!" Johnny went to push Lucien's hand away but the Frenchman took his palm and twisted his wrist. "Ouch!" 

"I told you. Now, before I tear some tendons, will you abandon the chase?" 

Jérémy had stopped running and came to join Johnny and the old man strong enough to make the young man's face contort in pain with nothing more than his thin, gloved hand. 

"Yeah, alright, alright! I won't chase him anymore!"

"Très bien." 

[Very well.]

Lucien let go and Johnny held his wrist and hissed in pain. He raised a threatening index finger to Jérémy who was approaching. 

"You! Next time I see you…" 

"You won't do a thing." Lucien answered. "Now, go." 

The pile of muscles withdrew. 

"Thanks, man. And whatever you did with him, that was cool." Jérémy said. 

His father blushed. Oui, he blushed. The first thing that Jérémy addressed to his father and he said that he was cool.

"M-Merci. Ahem." Lucien cleared his throat. "May I have a word?"

Jeremy looked around him left and right. 

"With me? You sure?"

"Oui, I am. Pray take a seat." He held his hand out to the bench and Jeremy sat down. 

"So, uh… Why did you help me?" 

"I thought I would ask you something before we would get to that." Lucien answered. 

"Uh… Ok, what's your question?"

"Are you looking for a job by any chance?" Lucien lit a cigarette and looked at his son more intently. Yes, he had his mother's eyes and nose but the shape of his face was Lucien's more than Mary’s.

“I just landed one so uh, whatever you want, I don’t need it. Uh, thanks again for dealin’ with Johnny.” Jérémy stood up and started walking away.

“So you prefer dealing drugs with your friend rather than earning honest money, hm?”

Jérémy’s ears pricked and he stopped sharp. Lucien couldn’t tell which word prompted him to interrupt his gait. He turned to his father.

“What?”

“I could not help but overhear your friend.” Lucien explained, still sitting on the bench, relaxed. “He dared you to land the ball on Johnny's head in exchange for which he guaranteed you a position that would make you earn a lot instantly.”

“Yeah, and?” Jérémy frowned. Ah, he at least gave Lucien the benefit of the doubt and a chance to fully explain himself, good.

“Think.” Lucien blew the smoke of his menthol cigarette away before putting it back between his lips. “What else can this young man offer you but to participate in what he is doing right now. Look at him.” Lucien nodded to the young man who had joined a group of friends and was smoking and drinking with them. 

“What d’you mean?”

“Smell the air, young man. What do you detect?”

“What the f-?”

Lucien raised his gloved hand to stop him sharp and it worked. 

“Do it.”

Jérémy took a sniff of the air. 

“It stinks. Your cigs are shit.”

“Ah, but this is the point, they are not.” Lucien raised his index finger. “Can you smell what they are smoking?”

“Yeah.”

“Then you know what it is.”

Jérémy looked left and right, lowering his head slightly.

“And if you know what it is,” Lucien went on. “Then you know that you should not partake in this.”

“What’s it gotta do with you anyway?” Jérémy asked.

“A lot. I have this position open that would suit a young man, just like you.”

“Huh, and what’s that job about?”

“I saw you running and leaping like a rabbit. You are fast with your legs and accurate with your eye and hands, if you managed to hit Johnny.”

“Yeah, and?”

“And it pities me to see a fit young man on the verge of becoming a petty drug dealer. Don’t you want to do something else? What would your parents say?”

Lucien risked it, just as a test, and he watched his son keenly. Jérémy sighed and sat back on the bench, next to the Frenchman.

“I don’t have parents.”

“Oh. Do you live alone?”

“Nah, with my auntie, her kids and uh…”

“And?”

“And some of my brothers.”

“Some?”

“Some of them are… away.”

“I see.” Lucien said. He already knew where Jérémy’s half brothers would be. “But surely you can do something else than deal drugs.”

“Nah. Can’t go to college, I’m shit at school and I can’t even read or write properly. Always make shit tons of mistakes.”

“Well, lucky for you, life isn’t a choice between dealing drugs and going to university. There are plenty of other opportunities.” Lucien smoked without making eye contact with his son. He was asking a lot of personal information and locking eyes could impress the boy and make him resilient to engage in the conversation.

“Yeah, well… What’s your job, then?”

“Oh, it allows me to live in the Grand Palace and on the right side of the law. The clothes you see me wear are all custom made. These cigarettes I smoke are made in France and I have them imported.”

“So you’re French, huh?”

“Can’t you hear my accent?”

“Yeah, I can… It’s just… French people give me the creeps… Anyway, what’s the job offer?”

“Meet me here tomorrow morning at seven. I will tell you more.”

Jérémy’s eyebrows jumped. 

“Hey, you’re not gonna make me wake up that freakin’ early for nothin’?!”

Lucien stood up and turned to his son. 

“I told you, it is for a job, thus, not for nothing.”

“Yeah but-”

“Be on time.”

The Frenchman walked away, leaving the young one confused. 

“What the-? Huh…”

And the cigarette butt flew to the bin. 

When he hit back home, Lucien threw the glasses and the tie away. He flopped on the couch and looked in front of him, on the coffee table. The bottle of vodka was almost empty. He stood up to grab a glass and poured some. 

His short meeting with Jérémy was very enlightening. 

The boy had shown a lot of qualities, still little stems, but Lucien could work on that, that was his job. Now he half wondered if Jérémy would show up. 

The rendez-vous was a test in itself. If the boy could force himself to wake up just out of curiosity, not knowing exactly what he would be diving into, then he was mad enough to become a spy; or, in other words, he had that taste for the unknown, the hidden. 

A spy is a sentient moth. They show themselves in the dark and are attracted by the mystery of a true light, and even though it might be a burning flame, they risk touching it anyway. 

Lucien shall see if his son had this dangerous curiosity in him. 

Meanwhile - and as he downed his shot of vodka - he raised his eyes to the piano. 

Ha. Was that yet another lie from his ex-wife?

Oui, ex-wife.

He now said it at least in his head. He had been married, even if she didn’t do it sincerely, he did, and even if he couldn’t wear his ring because he had to play the free bird for work. Lucien slowly came to the conclusion himself. 

Mary never was married to anyone, using children as a means for blackmail, to suck out money from wealthy men. 

So be it, but…!

In his heart, he had been married and he had done everything a husband could do for his wife. He loved her, supported her, cared for her and their son. He had nothing to hold against himself for that. Non, the only thing he could rightfully bite his own fingers for was that he had run no checks on her. 

A simple mistake that cost him more than twenty years of his life, oui. And that was why he now poured himself another shot.

He raised his eyes to the piano. 

Was that another lie? Did she like his singing or not? Was she sincere in her letter? Was she maybe regretting what she did and did she honestly want him to be near her, hear his voice one last time? Maybe the threat of imminent death had made her find her heart, deep inside?

Who knew?

No one, not Lucien at least. But now the piano was there and he had enjoyed singing and playing again. It had been cathartic. Everything he could have released by torturing someone, skinning them, burning them alive, he had released in his singing wet by the sobbing tears flowing. 

Mon Dieu. 

He threw his gloves away and downed his glass before pouring a third one, and going to the piano. 

All his life, he had lived for her. Even if she wasn’t there at his side. He made sure to send her letters, money, gifts, any and everything he could for her birthdays, their anniversary, Jérémy’s birthdays. He did not and could not forget any occasion. He called her on the phone whenever he could and despite the burning temptation, he never approached her too close. He knew how dangerous it could be if someone caught him. 

It had hurt to live far from his wife, but he was condemned to love her from afar, completely ignorant of her ignoring him completely, milking his money away for her own comfort, taking care of her business. 

Lucien sat at the piano and put the glass on top of it. 

He had lived for her entirely. And she knew it. She was the only woman to ever hear him stutter, fail to find his words, blush, trip on his own tongue, as if the mouth he was using to talk to her had never been his to start with. 

How blind he had been. He had willfully kept himself blind. Why? Because for once, for once, he wanted to believe that a woman was coming to him not just for his looks, not just for his money or to kill him, but for his heart, for the content of his character, for the devotion he could fall into but had reserved only for that one special woman. Lucien died to believe that Mary was that woman and did everything he could to believe in it.

Unfortunately, she wasn’t the pure woman who loved him to bits, as he did her. Non. She was…

She was…

What was that expression in English again…?

Ah. 

A gold digger.

Lucien winced as he heard the words spoken by his internal voice, inside himself. He put a hand on his brow and sighed.

Comme toutes les autres, quand elles ne veulent pas me tuer.

[Like all the others, when they didn’t want to kill me.]

He thought to himself and it hurt. He couldn’t even confront her with it and release his anger. She was dead. And even if… What good could it have done? He would perhaps have felt a bit better if he could tell her but…

But the truth was that he wasn’t that kind of man. 

He surely would have cut all communications with her and, to quote Fred, buried himself on the fucking Moon. But he surely wouldn’t have gone to release all his frustration and rage to her. Non, he would have skipped that step and gone straight to wreck someplace or some people, like he did the gym at the CIA headquarters and drowned himself in the strongest alcohol he could find. 

Hm. 

All was going according to plan then, because that is exactly what he was doing. At least, that made sense.

Lucien sighed and as his fingers sank on the keys, he closed his eyes. The chords came to his fingers on their own. Oui, he remembered it, he had never understood that song even though he understood Italian perfectly, but now, it made sense.

{To the reader, the song is “Vivo per lei” by Andrea Bocelli and Hélène Ségara, slightly tweaked lyrics}

“Vivii per lei da quando sai

[I lived for her since you know]

La prima volta l'ho incontrata

[The first time I met her]

Non mi ricordo come ma

[I don’t remember how but]

Mi è entrata dentro e c'è restata

[She entered me and stayed]

Vivii per lei perché mi fece

[I lived for her because she made]

Vibrare forte l'anima

[My heart vibrate strongly]

Vivii per lei e non fu un peso.”

[I lived for her and it wasn’t a burden]

Oui, now, those words made sense. Mary had been a delight in his heart, on his mind and in his life. She never had been bad to him. He remembered his younger days with nostalgia.

“Fu un dolore quando partì

[I felt pain when she left]

Vivo per lei dentro gli hotel,

[I live for her inside the hotel]

Con piacere estremo cresce.

[She grows with a great pleasure]

Vivo per lei nel vortice,

[I live for her in a whirl]

Attraverso la mia voce

[Through my voice]

Si espande e amore produce.”

[It expands and gives birth to love]

Oui, he had fallen in love and he remembered how good it felt, to fall with abandon, to fall shamelessly, to let himself go completely. Oh, the freedom… And being blind as he was was in fact a blessing. He loved her and he loved the fact that he loved her. As complicated as it sounded once put into words, he hadn’t felt as happy as when he let himself go to her.

“Io vivii per lei

[I lived for her]

Sopra un palco o contro ad un muro...

[Up on a stage or against the wall…

Vivii per lei al limite.

[I lived for her to the limit.]

... anche in un domani duro.

[...even if tomorrow will be rough.]

Vivii per lei al margine.

[I lived to the limit for her.]

Ogni giorno

[Every day]

Una conquista,

[A conquest,]

La protagonista

[The protagonist]

Era sempre lei.”

[Was always her.]

Lucien drummed his fingers more convincingly on the keyboard. Oui! Oui now it made sense! She was the conquest, she was the protagonist of his life for so long, and as painful as the lie is, he owed her some thanks. If he hadn’t met her, he wouldn’t have known how true love could be, how deep in his guts it could take him. Oh him who was so used to faking it, playing with people's hearts like a prison guard makes the cells keys twirl around his fingers, taunting the prisoners in their miserable cages. He had played a lot, taunted and got indescribable pleasure out of it. But with Marie, he had been the prisoner, and her, not the guard, but the executioner.

[cockasinthebird]

Prompt 212! I hope it's a good one, but it's your writing so I'm sure it'll be fantastic! Congrats again on 500!! 💕😊💖 -opaldraws

@opaldraws yeah I’m also tagging your other blog, what about it 😌💕

212. “Did you just call to get off to my voice?”

Now, I haven’t written it a lot, but I absolutely L O V E phone sex fics, and for the sake of it, I’ve written this a bit into the future; not quiet a modern day au, but more of an... early 2000′s au, because I wanted them to have phones, but not something modern and smart, so for the sake of the prompt, imagine that they both have that super iconic Nokia 3310, you know exactly which one 😂😂🤣

Also this includes mechanic Billy, another of my favourite aus

Thank you again so much for prompting me, babe!!!! I think it’s fantastic, so, for your pleasure, 1.7k words, enjoy~

-

Steve rolls around in sheets that still smell of Billy. He stretches out with a grunt, naked and lazy blissful, the clock on his side of the bed says 10:13 am, on a typical Tuesday morning. He rubs the sleep from his eyes and stares at a water stain in the corner of the ceiling, one which Billy claims that if you squint, it looks like a voluptuous woman. 

To think, three months they’ve lived here now, a shitty little one bedroom apartment down on mainstreet, walking distance from the workshop and Family Video, yet Billy insists every day on driving the camaro, revving the engine and showing off in front of his envious coworkers. 

Three months since they became official, three months since Neil kicked Billy out, three months since Steve’s father cut him out of the will. 

Three months they’ve spent every night together, yet, as Steve presses his face into Billy’s pillow, inhaling the musky scent of his sweat, he still yearns all the same as he did back in high school. The same old desperation and neediness fills him just at the mere thought of his boyfriend. And he’s hardly to blame, being naked in their bed, in their apartment. 

He breathes in deep again and sighs contentedly into the fabric, raising his hips to allow for a hand to slip beneath, fingers grazing gently across hardening flesh.

Their schedules don’t always align, Billy being off on weekends, Steve on, leaving the poor brunette home alone Tuesdays and Thursdays. And he misses him already, as needy and pathetic and clingy as that might be, making him anxious and doubtful, but Billy calls it cute and sweet and that, “I miss you, too, baby,” so maybe someday Steve will learn that this kind of behaviour and thought is ok when you’re in love, and won’t get pushed away for it.

Billy never pushes him away, no he holds him, kisses him, loves him. Tells him every day with the sweetest kisses. In the mornings when they’re rushing off to work because they stayed in bed for too long. In the evening when they’re cooking dinner and eating together by the little round table. In the night when they’re pressed together soft and slow, rough and fast, skin on skin on skin.

Steve closes his hand around his full dick and strokes at a far too slow pace, enjoying the pleasant sparks that spread around his lower abdomen and thighs, not enough for release, but enough for him to moan lightly into Billy’s pillow. He runs his other arm beneath it to hug it tighter against his face, wishing to be as close to Billy as he can right now.

God he really needs Billy right now… Billy Billy Billy… If he closes his eyes and focuses hard enough, he can almost imagine that it’s Billy’s hand stroking him now, calloused and worn from work, strong and firm, he tightens his grip, thrusting into his fingers with jittery and impatient hips.

He turns his head to look at his phone on the bedside table, thinking, tempted to call. And he only really wastes a few brief seconds convincing himself, before he’s reaching for it with his free hand, the motion of his other hand becoming lackadaisical as he finds Billy’s phone number on his phone.

The ringing like a drum solo, his heart beating hard and loud in tact. 

“Hey honey,” Billy says with a voice pure with adoration, and Steve’s heart calms down immediately, feeling his dulcet tone embrace his heart.

“You’re up early,” he teases.

“Yeah, I…” Steve trails off, not really sure what to say, just really wanted to listen to Billy talk. “H-how’s work?”

“Oh you won’t believe what I’m looking at!” the eagerness in his voice palpable, “This old couple comes in with the most gorgeous Cadillac from the 70s! Says they’re taking retirement ‘on the road’, but it’s been sputtering an awful lot lately, so now,” he pauses for the sake of dramatic effect, “I get to clean this old gals engine! New spark plugs, cleaning the carburetor, and an oil change on the house.”

Even if Steve doesn’t know what any of that really means, he gets a near second-hand thrill from how excited Billy is. Also it paints a perfect picture, Billy with his jumpsuit tied around his waist because he loves to show off those arms, covered in oil and grease and sweat, the dirty, white tank top, hair tied back.

There’s a longer pause before Billy asks, “What are you up to?” something in his tone that might imply he knows exactly what Steve’s doing.

“I-I’m still in bed,” Steve responds with all the self-control he has, albeit not a lot of it.

“Oh yeah?” Billy’s voice deep and raspy all of a sudden. “And what are you doing in bed? Because it doesn’t sound like you’re sleeping.”

Steve rolls on to his back and looks down at where his prick has started leaking; the pre helping with the dryness as he swipes his thumb over the head. 

“Come on, princess,” Billy drawls when there’s no response, “Tell me what you’re doing.”

“I-I- ahh…” Steve moans gingerly before biting down on his lip. “I’m touching myself.”

“Thinking about anyone in particular?”

The obvious answer being, “You.”

His phone nearly vibrates when Billy chuckles like rolling thunder. “So… did you just call to get off to my voice?”

“Yes,” Steve says without a filter, lust slowly pulling him apart as he jerks a bit faster to the sensuous tone of Billy.

“That’s awfully naughty of you.”

A breathless, “Fuck,” escapes him as he screws his eyes shot to picture Billy again.

“Calling me like this, in the middle of my work day… Do you know how hard that makes me? Listening to you pant and moan like that? Making it impossible to focus on my work, baby.”

He leans into the phone, moans a bit louder, unadulterated, let’s out a slight, “Billy…”

And Billy laughs. “Oh that’s so unfair, you saying my name like that when I can’t do anything about it. When I come home later, I’m gonna fuck you so good.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

The echo of a lock comes through the phone and Steve blinks open.

“What are you doing?”

Next he hears just a light clink of a belt.

“I’m in the employees bathroom, taking a break. You didn’t think I’d just let you get off on your own, did you? Don’t be so selfish.”

“Billy, are you-”

“I am,” he sighs with satisfaction - a roughness to the edge of his voice.

A sigh and insinuation that gives Steve all the right clues for the perfect picture of Billy, sitting with his legs spread out, cock out through the hole in his boxers to stroke it, making Steve’s own kick and drip more. He slides further down their bed as he raises his hips into his fist, closing his eyes again to focus on Billy’s breathing, his words.

“Mmmh, when I get off from work, when I get home in 4 hours, you better be naked, waiting for me as I step through the door.”

Steve imagines it just so, listening to Billy like he’s being told a story- a promise. 

“We won’t make it to the bedroom - I can’t wait that long to touch you again.”

“Billy,” he whines and runs his hand a bit too fast, chasing an all too soon release.

“I’m gonna have you bent over the dining table, eating you out till you’re begging me to finger you open. You’d like that, wouldn’t you, pretty boy?”

“Yes, yes, oh fuck-” 

Each word sending static shivers through his entire being, making him buck his hips harder, thrusting with abandon into the whimsical motion of his hand. He presses the phone between his face and the pillow, to allow his left hand the freedom to go down, squeezing his balls tenderly, pressing and massaging his taint beneath.

“God, shit- arrh- listen to you, princess, so obedient and willing… Getting so wet just from my voice, hmmm…” his deep, carnal humming vibrates through the phone. “And once you’re all stretched out and ready from four of my fingers, I’ll fuck you so hard you’ll be on the verge of tears, all sensitive from my big cock.”

“Please, Billy,” he whines, oh so close, the fuse burning quickly at the speed of his hand.

“Fuck I love it when you say my name like that, all needy and horny and pliant, begging for me to pound your ass, fuck- ah-”

“Billy,” Steve whines and really milks it for all it’s worth, drawing it out into a full moan. “Billy I’m so close.”

“Let me hear you cum, baby,” Billy growls out, rugged with laboured breathing.

“God, fuck- fuck, a-ah-” And Steve doesn’t keep quiet, opens wide as he arches his back, lifts his hips high into the air as he pumps himself with fervor, cum spurting from his throbbing cock and onto his chest, a splash reaching his throat from the raised angle. Billy has, on numerous occasions, called it “pornographic,” says that Steve gives a better performance, riding on his dick, than any of the actors on tape.

Billy grunts and groans on the other end, struggling to keep his own euphoria down no doubt, but it is clear to Steve that his boyfriend is right there with him, and listening to him cum gives him a deep rooted thrill, an incredible sense of satisfaction that can almost rival his own orgasm.

They pant and gasp for air together, Billy sounding more like he’s been diving too deep for too long, but chuckles all the same.

“Mmmmh glad you called, bambi,” he hums deep and satisfied and happy.

A joy that brings such elation to Steve’s own heart.

“Me, too,” he laughs back, short and utterly exhausted. He could absolutely go for a nap now.

“Now, you have…” a pause as Billy no doubt looks at his wristwatch, “three hours and about twenty minutes to get cleaned up, regain your energy, and drink lots of water, because when I get home, I’m gonna have to punish you for this.”

[blackssuunn-mandoandyodito]

Big dreams, expensive taste

Part two: you can't light a fire without a spark

Read part one here

Pairing: Maxwell Lord x f!reader

Rating: M

Words: 3.3k

A/N: this is still setting ground to the story but I hope you like it. Everything mentioned about NY is written by research alone, I've never been there but I love the city. Also, I need to clarify this is a Modern!AU. Enjoy!

Warnings: SMUT, nervousness, brief f masturbation, slight power kink. Let me know if I should add something.

Summary: What happens after you first met Mr. Lord? How will it go?

(humor me and imagine this is him but blonde please)

The thing about New York is, simply, you either multitask and adapt or die.

Midtown Manhattan is one of the blessings that found your way when you arrived in the city, despite how crazy it mostly is. Filled with tourists that walk through Times Square, cry at the price tags in the Fifth Avenue and stare in awe up the Empire State, so many cultures and languages mixing in the same zone can be quite overwhelming. But that's exactly what New York is about.

 After renting with an asshole for three years in a shoebox and saving every single penny you didn't need to spend, you finally had reunited enough money to pay the initial rent that most apartments asked for and enough left of that to fix whatever may need to be fixed.

Back then, your roommate had been taking a girl every night to the apartment you shared, and you could hear the moans and screams that were most likely fake through the wall separating your rooms that resembled more of paper than an actual wall. You were so fed up with it that one day you just decided to go apartment hunting, alone and angry.

You had to go through hours of walking and walking. Anything over 3,000 was too much and even that was pushing it. Most of the ones you could afford were even smaller than the one you were living in, and the ones you liked were way out of your budget.

By some kind of miracle and while you were walking down 53th Street on the verge of tears and with a slice of pizza in your hand, a studio apartment came into your life.

And you didn't even stop to think about it.

It had been three years of 12-hour shifts 6 days a week, and you can't find a good enough apartment for 2,000 dollars every day, much less in New York. So when you saw the opportunity, you took it.

The Third Avenue lets you see the usual office buildings that are often associated with Midtown Manhattan, while the side of the Second Avenue resembles more of a residential neighborhood, with jazz clubs and cafés in sight wherever you look to.

While Midtown's prices tend to be through the roof, you could afford to pay for that one without too much trouble and without sweating it a lot. Sure, it wasn't as big as you wanted to but not a shoebox either. A perfect in-between.

Living on the last floor of the building also had the luxury of being near the roof and letting you see out the window to marvel at the skyscrapers of one side and the more calm neighborhoods of the other. It was a weird resemblance of living at the coast, where two worlds crash together. Letting you be far enough of the chaos to be able to breathe and relax but not such that made you forget where you were living at.

Extremely convenient, considering that the entrance for the Subway was just a few steps away. There were also lots of bars near the area, and one of the most important rules of New York is to have a go-to place, just to be safe. Thankfully, the zone provided plenty of that.

It needed some fixing up, a little paint, and slight trouble with stuff in the kitchen. But after some weeks of Diane and other friends helping you, it slowly became the place you had always dreamed of.

Which is why, at the end of your shift, when you go to Maxwell Lord's office and the old lady from before lets you in with a warm smile, the fact that his office is bigger than your place is, to put it simply, infuriating.

Your mandatory heels click as you walk inside his office, forcing your back to stay upright once his heavy glance hits you full force. His eyebrow arches just as you stop a few steps away from his desk, not showing any sign of being intimidated by the way he's sitting with his legs open and leaning back on his chair.

Not at all intimidated.

Propping his elbow on the armrest of his chair, he rests his chin on his open palm and grins. The visual is one that reminds you of the kings and queens sitting at their thrones on the series you often binge watch when you're not too tired to do so.

You clean your throat, mustering up all seriousness that you can.

"Did you ask to see me, sir?"

Surprisingly, your voice doesn't waver for even a second as you talk, satisfying the part inside of you that resists on giving to Maxwell Lord's power.

He sighs, shaking his head slightly. With one hand, he waves at you to sit at the chair in front of his desk. The rings that garnish his fingers glint to the last glimpses of sunlight that his office takes in. The back walls are complete crystal, from the floor to the ceiling.

The ones that give to the building are Oxford grey, with a cabinet full of the best liquor you've ever seen to the left side and a white boardroom table to the right. It's arranged in a way that if he sits at the edge, everyone else is facing him with their backs to the landscape. You guess that sitting there feels like hanging at the edge of a cliff when you either accept whatever the man in front of you asks or you fall.

It starts to feel like that when you take a sit in front of him and he leans towards you, studying every movement you dare to do and the ones you stop yourself from doing.

"Are you satisfied with the position you're currently in?"

It takes you a second to realize that he's talking about work, not other things that your mind kindly provides. You squirm slightly under his eyes, without looking away.

"Yes sir," you answer, "it is one I am good at that has a good salary and flexible schedule"

He hums, lowering his eyes to the files spread over his desk that you hadn't realized were there. 

You squint your eyes to get a good look at what he's reading.

All the blood leaves your face when you realize those are your files.

"Wouldn't you like a promotion?" He asks, not bothering to look at you as he moves the papers. 

You frown at him, confused. A promotion? 

"And what would it be, sir?" You say, hesitant to voice your question. He smiles at you and closes the folder, moving it aside as he leans towards you with his fingers interlaced.

"A few days ago my assistant quit" he answers, smirking knowingly of something you're unaware of. "I've been searching for someone to take their place, and I think you might be just perfect for it"

You clear your throat, amazed at how straight forward he is. No wonder why he's one of the most respected, if not feared millionaires.

"And why would you think that, sir?"

There's a clicking sound as he spreads his palms on his glass desk and rests his back on his chair, looking you up and down. 

"You are very good at setting limits," he answers, "your files also say that you have experience in accountancy and management. You've been an assistant previously, which means you also know how this works" 

You nod, looking at him straight in the eye.

You gulp as his eyes harden and his voice gets colder, deeper. "What I need right now is someone who can support my work and have a good effect on the success of my company. I need someone who tells me the truth and not what they think I want to hear"

He takes a deep breath and tilts his head, waiting for your answer.

Of course, you were fully capable of doing a good job, but that was not why you were hesitating on giving him a yes right away. The reputation of being a total asshole with his close workers was most likely not unfounded.

At your hesitation, he frowns at you.

"Is there a problem miss?"

You grip the chair with your fingers, torn between saying something and keeping quiet. 

Ultimately, you take the decision to see for yourself if the rumors are true.

"When will I start?"

The big smile that spreads through his face sends shivers down your spine, gulping but repressing the desire to run away and hide.

"8 AM sharp tomorrow, don't be late. You can get my schedule from Amanda outside"

You nod as his look on you lingers for more than it's deemed appropriate, rolling one of his rings between his fingers with an arched eyebrow.

"You can leave now," he says, dismissive. 

You quickly stand up and smooth your clothes, tilting your head at him.

"Thank you, sir"

He doesn't say anything else as you walk away, but he calls you just as you're about to step outside his office, stopping you abruptly. You turn around, tense.

"I sincerely hope you live up to my standards," he says, with a strong voice without a trace of the amusement you had heard before. 

You're not sure if that's supposed to be a compliment or an insult. Your eyes harden, and you clench your hands at your sides, straightening.

"With all due respect sir, if you doubt of my capacity for the job you shouldn't have considered me in the first place"

Your answer startles him, and for a moment you think he'll fire you on the spot at the flame that seems to light in his eyes when he clenches his jaw. 

But he only sits straight and nods at you, lips pursed in a thin line.

"Good night," you say, walking away with shaking hands once again. He only blinks, so you step outside the office with strong steps and not looking back, missing his smirk as he hears you talk to Amanda, arranging things for your first day as his executive assistant tomorrow.

He hopes you survive, he's become quite fond of you.

When you arrive home, every muscle feels sore already from the tension you had felt every second close to Maxwell Lord. You sigh as the sound of the keys resonate through the apartment once you step inside and leave them at the table. The heels feel even more burdening than other days, and you can't help but wonder how it will be from tomorrow on.

You shake your head and decide to take your mind off of it. Stripping off your clothes, you go take a shower. 

The hot water feels amazing as it runs down your body, easing out all stress of the day from your muscles. With your eyes closed, you wash your body delicately, almost like a caress. 

Before you know it, your mind starts to drift to your boss, at how powerful he looked sitting at his chair inside his office on top of New York, how he had looked at you with such hunger it made you shiver and burn with something you had never experienced before.

The man in your imagination starts to walk towards you, smirking and with his hands inside his pockets as you have your back to the crystal. He's cornering you, not letting you any option to get away even if you wanted to.

But the point is, you don't. 

You squeeze your eyes shut inside the shower as your hand moves down to your clit, circling slowly and sending pleasure up your spine.

The man in your fantasies grins at you once you're too close to the glass, afraid of fully leaning into it. 

He tilts his head, eyes blown and dark with a glint of mischief in them.

"Aren't you afraid to fall?" The illusion asks, extending his hand to your neck and caressing it with a ghost touch. Goosebumps spread through your skin when his thumb traces a line up to your lips, outlining them and making you open your mouth.

You shakily nod, letting him manhandle you to turn around and put your palms flat against the window. 

You gasp at the sudden change, and he kicks open your legs so you're slightly bent over in front of him, facing the city.

His breath hits hard against your neck as he stands flush against you, moving his hand behind you and pulling your skirt up, leaving you exposed to him. One of his fingers hook at your underwear and pulls down, grazing your wetness and making you jump.

"Stay still." He whispers next to your ear, pushing his body against yours to pin you to the clear surface.

The real you jumps when you let yourself lean to the wall, breaking you out of your daydream when your skin touches the cold tiles.

Guilt creeps into your mind and replaces the red hot fantasy that your brain decided to create and torture you with.

You shake your head, thinking about other things. The fantasy must have been a result of the tension and tiredness, you chose to accept. After all, not every day you meet the owner of the company you work in and he decides to make you his closest co-worker.

You finish showering quickly after that, not letting your mind slip away from your actions as you dry yourself and then go to bed.

Your phone dings with a received message, but your mind is too far away from consciousness to do anything about it.

The first thing you do in the morning is call Diane and let her know your change of job, and the way she screams at your ear makes you flinch.

"How the fuck did that happen!?" She asks, as you climb down the stairs and then walk down the block to the entrance of the Subway with the MetroCard tightly held in your hand.

"I still don't know," you answer, "he simply asked if I wanted to and I just said yes"

Diane giggles and you roll your eyes at what she must be thinking. She seems to sing "Money, Money, Money" by ABBA under her breath, and it makes you laugh a little.

"And are you sure?" She asks.

"Too late to think about it, "you say. "But judging by what I saw on his schedule, the man doesn't even sleep"

"Which means you probably won't either" she finishes just as the background noise of people comes with her voice. Living in Queens and arriving by the up ground stations must grant her of service, but no one inside the subway appreciates someone talking on the phone, so you decide to end the call.

"I guess." you say, "I'll call you later, I'm about to enter the subway"

Diane wishes you luck, says goodbye, and hangs up. The rest of your trip goes with the usual maniac activity of the New York Subway, a void at the bottom of your stomach as you get closer and closer to your stop. You must have a terrified expression on your face because at least 5 different people look at you with concern in their eyes, and no one ever pays attention to someone else in the morning. You sincerely hope their concern turns out to be unfounded.

The sound of your heels clicking as you go inside the building and go straight to the elevator is a big contrast to just arriving at the lobby and starting to work right away. Your hands feel sweaty when they grip your briefcase, not used to carrying one around. There's even some cold sweat in your forehead, but you quickly wipe it off. 

The ding of the elevator makes you jump when it arrives at Maxwell Lord's office floor, and you straighten again when you go out and walk towards it. Your cheeks feel hot when you remember the night before, but your mind quickly brushes it away. You're nervous enough as it is.

His voice hits your ears the closer you get to the door and Amanda is already there, looking at you with what you guess is supposed to be an encouraging smile. She must have a lot of experience dealing with him. 

"He's waiting for you," she says, "his first meeting is at nine o'clock, and he wants you to manage it"

Not trusting your voice, you nod and smile at her, going inside the room. 

His gaze immediately rises from what appears to be a contract and looks at you with the beginning of a smirk tugging at his lips, and he waves you to come closer. You oblige, keeping all emotion that may be going through you by showing a stoic face. 

"Give me a moment," he says to the phone, then covers the speaker and turns to you. "I need you to work here with me, so your own office will be there"

He points to a smaller office at the corner of the room that you had failed to see previously, with a dark crystal barrier that most likely will let you see to his office but not let him see to yours. 

You nod and walk to the door, opening without expecting much. 

What greets you is quite the opposite.

There's a big desk with white orchids at the edge, with one side against the wall and a computer ready to be used in the middle, a fancy coffee maker in a kitchenette at the other side of the room and a small cupboard stuck to the wall on top of the sink. There are even some shelves with books about finances and management next to your desk. Another door is behind your chair, two steps away if you stand up.

You walk to open it and discover you've also got your own bathroom, with white tiles and a golden faucet. It looks so neat you're afraid of getting inside, so you close the door.

Having your own space to work feels slightly overwhelming. From spending all day dealing with people to having a room for yourself feels like a huge change done in just a day.

But out of everything that apparently comes with working for the CEO of Lord Enterprises directly, what takes the breath out of you is the sight you have of the city. 

The city shines in front of your eyes, with yellow dots navigating the streets and hordes of people running from one point to another. You can see everything from there, almost all of Central Park filled with trees that soon will turn brown and yellow in the fall, windows that let you see how a lot of people start waking up and continue living, businesses that open to provide people with food, coffee or even just a place for people to take his mind away, sit down and breathe for a second.

The view brings tears to your eyes. This is the city that became your home when you arrived, full of wild activity and even wilder people. New York, after all. 

You smile, realizing that this is closer to what you were searching for. There’s a new sense of excitement in your chest, full of expectation and desire to conquer. You feel ready for anything. 

But his voice breaks you out of the moment when he calls your name.

"Please come here," you hear muffled through the crystal, and you can see how his chair is completely turned towards you with one leg up the other one and his fingers interlaced on top of his lap, looking at your door without really seeing anything, frowning. 

So you take a deep breath and walk out again, with renewed energy. You know that, no matter how hard it may be, you're now on top of the world.

Tag list (let me know if you want to be added):

@evidenceofzoe @the-feckless-wonder @aeryntheofficial @cryptkeepersoul @cable-kenobi @fruitsaladtree

[zwiezraczek]

Hi could I request a Ben fic! A four one! Where four is away on a mission and y/n is home and pregnant with his child waiting on him coming back but they can't talk to eachother, four sends her letters but she can't reply as she doesn't know where he is. Y/n gives birth to the baby but dies during labour and four doesn't find out until he's home, can you make it really angsty but show flashbacks to their relationship or something from fours perspective because he misses her :) understand if not

One Life For The Two Of Us [Request]

Note: When I saw this request I was all for angst here, I IMMEDIATELY loved it. So thank you nonnie for this this is gold! 💕💕💕

“Dear y/n,

It was a tough week for the Ghosts, that's just incredible how much of running I had to do! Never did this much during my whole career – am I talking like a white-collar man? Probably yes what have I become – and if not Five I wouldn't be alive because some of the falls hurt a lot. But don't worry and tell our little one that daddy's strong enough and when he'll be back he'll in shape to play with them!

I hope that you're feeling well, I can only imagine how difficult it is for you right now, and alone. I told you, if you can't do this anymore go to your parent's house, I know that they will be more than happy to have you with them – I know for a fact that your mom asked me to try to convince you to got live there when I wouldn't be there, but that's a secret between us.

I'll be back some soon love, I just can't wait to see you and our little one – if they're born before I come back home because hell knows when I'll be back!

Love you to the moon and back love,

Your Billy”

You smiled and touched your bump. It was your seventh month and you couldn't hide the joy of having a baby with Billy, with your beloved Billy. You missed him every day a little more, and knew that every day was a day closer to see him and you couldn't wait to see him again. You were as excited by him coming back home as by giving birth to your child.

~~~

“Dear y/n,

I'm just super excited because I should be back home soon! And, knowing that at least a month had passed since my last letter it means that we're closer to see our little one. I'm so excited to know if they will be a he or a she, you already know my mind about names and I know about yours so... I'm just going to remind you that Anthony is a name as good as Michael, and no I don't take constructive criticism! The boy will be Anthony Michael, and the girl Rosie Ann as we planned – I still don't know why Rosie but apparently it is as good as Anthony I guess. I know we already discussed it, but I just wanted to feel a bit more at home, having last-minute discussions about the names, with you.

I hope that you're taking care of yourself, eating healthy and treating yourself with some chocolate. I hope you are. I'll be back soon love, I can't wait to see both of you.

I love you y/n.

Love you to the moon and back love,

Your Billy."

As much as you wished to tell him that something was off, you couldn't. You could only smile at the little fake argument he had made on paper so you could smile. But you didn't feel at ease, you sensed something bad. And you couldn't help but wishing that it was all just a bad impression.

~~~

When he came back home, he rushed to the apartment you shared, how much he had missed you and how much he wanted to see the baby, because he knew that he wouldn't be there when your little treasure would be born. He wanted to tell you how proud he was of you for staying alone, waiting for him and carrying your child. He got flowers on the way after a quick shower on the Ghost's spot, chocolates and a small bear for your little one, he wanted to have a baby boy, he always had wanted a boy but you were sure it would be a girl. He climbed the stars two by two, with his hoodie up his face and rang the bell. Without any reply. Probably even better, he thought as he reached for the keys in his pocket.

When he opened the door, the place was cold and empty, lifeless and he knew something was off. Some things were all over the place, but not in an usual manner, things were missing, no hot tea on the counter, it was bloody cold. For a moment, he thought that you had left him for someone else, as you he was looking through the rooms. The baby's room. It was almost as when he left, minus some fluffy blankets, a few clothes and the teddy bear you both were cuddling at night before he had left.

So he called your father. He couldn't gather herself to tell him anything but asked him to came to see him and the little one. No mention of you, and his heart missed a beat. He grabbed the teddy bear, the flowers and the chocolate and hailed a taxi to go to your childhood house, to home as you called it. He wished he never did; because when your father opened the door he saw tears in his eyes, glistening little pearls on the verge of falling when he saw you.

“Glad you made it,” he said with a faint smile as he put himself aside to let Billy in.

“Where are them,” Billy asked without any further ado, looking for his two little stars.

“Rosie's in the room, you can go and see her, she's waiting for you for a long time,” your father replied and took the flowers and the chocolate from Billy's hands, leaving only the bear in his hands.

Billy couldn't dare to ask about you. He imagined that you left him, that your father was staying with Rosie – such a gorgeous name, you told him you wanted a girl called Rosie – while you would go to work, maybe holding someone's hand while he was looking at the rosy cheeks of his daughter. She had your eyes. Your beautiful eyes when she looked at him and smiled, the bear was next to her and she put her hands up as if she wanted Billy to hold her, as if she knew. He couldn't help himself but smile and forget for a moment about the torment of his mind, soon matching the one of his heart.

“Billy, can you leave Rosie for a minute, we have something to tell you,” your father told him as he stood on the door frame, and indeed Billy left his little princess in her little cradle and kissed her on her forehead as she giggled.

“What had happened to y/n,” Billy finally asked as he sat in front of your parents and your mother burst into tears and Billy couldn't grasp it, he refused to.

“She... Y/n she... She left us,” your father finally said with an arm around your mother's shoulders.

“Will she be back soon,” Billy innocently asked, not wanting to understand.

“She's not... With us... Anymore... She's... She left us Rosie... She's no longer among us,” your mother cried even more.

“We're as sorry as you for y/n's loos,” your father said and Billy's mind stopped.

He felt anger, for himself and the world, because he couldn't be with you when... Before... He felt empty. He remembered your smile, and the giggles when he refused to get up from bed in the morning, he remembered your eyes and the shimmer in them, he remembered your skin and the touch of your lips. But all of this was in the past now. Forever. And at that very moment, he whisehd that when the world took you, it was him instead.

But had had Rosie now. His little princess he held in his arms for a little moment, his whole world now, a world having your eyes, a world in which you wrote your DNA, a world written by you, with him. He had to live for both of them, him and Rosie, making her listen to the songs you used to listen to with him, making her smile as he made you smile,. He would hold her where his heart was, to show her how much he loved her, how much he loved you and still did. Rosie was his diamond, his love, his princess and he would do anything to make her happy and proud, as he did for you. Because both of you deserved the world, and Billy set himself the mission to keep it up.

He had to live a life for the two of you, for Rosie now, and for you to never let her forget about you.

~~~

Already two years had passed, and Billy had to stop going on Ghost's missions. At least, not to the biggest ones making him travel all around the world with no chance of seeing Rosie, a thing that was disastrous for both of them at this part. When Billy had to leave in the morning and drop her at day nursery or at her grandparent's house, she always made that pouty little face that made him smile and his heart ache a little more. At this special and precious moment, she reminded him of you. Of the times when he was about to go on a longer mission, he would remember you mumbling into his ear that he shouldn't leave you like this and he would kiss your neck slowly. Instead, he kissed Rosie's nose.

Everytime Rosie's eyes looked into Billy's, he was reminded of you. Her shining eyes always followed him when he was walking in the room and she was sitting on the couch, with the tv on and her didn't even looking at it. “Daddy,” she would babble from time to time and he would as her small hands would try to grab him from afar. The kind of moment you spoke about with him with him lying on your stomach listening to Rosie's movements, about your little one calling both of you as you were trying to get everything right. But instead, it was only him and Rosie, with you looking up from the frame on the chest of drawers with a gorgeous smile, a frame that Rosie used to look at and Billy used to take it and to sit next to Rosie with a smile.

“Look, here's your mama,” he would whisper while pointing at you and Rosie would happily babble something. “Yes, I know, she's beautiful right? But you're beautiful too, don't worry, you got it from your mama,” Rosie wiggled her blonde eyebrows and Billy laughed a little. “Yes, the brows move is mine, I agree. She'd be proud of us I think, don't you think little one?” Rosie put her whole hand on the glass covering the picture, her face focused on your face, then she smiled.

And at this very moment, Billy knew you would be proud, that you were proud of both of them and that you watched over them. Forever.

[jmeddows2]

hiii could you do a roger taylor x reader where they meet up after a break up at a party where it’s angsty and fluffy (they get back together)

Thank you so much for this request. It’s been sitting in my inbox for a while ow but here it is :) it’s a bit messy and all over the placeThe quality of the 2nd picture is really low, BUT it’s one of the better pictures I was able to find from this party.Warnings: noneWords: 1.4k

When you first received the invitation to Freddie’s 31st birthday party you were confused. Roger and you had broken up about half a year ago and you never saw him after you left his apartment with boxes stuffed with  your stuff. You had already tossed the invitation into the bin when your phone rang. It was none other than Freddie himself. “Hello?”“Darling” Freddie’s voiced called through. “Did you get my invitation? It’s going to be a real bang and I want you there” “Well hello to you too” you laughed into the phone at his eagerness. Freddie always spoke what was on his mind. Never minced any matters.“I really don’t know Fred.”“you need to come, no discussions! You must get back out there. I have dozens of other guys lined up for you, or girls you want to get experimental.” He laughed “And I promise they are worth taking a second glance, darling” “I’ll see what I can do, Freddie”“Alright, see you there” and he hung up before you could say anything else.

You arrived at the Country Cousin restaurant when the party was already in full force. Dressed in a yellow turtle - neck jumper, a short skirt and platform knee boots, you surely turned the heads of both women and men as you made your way through the crowd to find the birthday boy. Unable to spot him, you placed the present for Freddie next to the ones that other guests had brought. The only familiar person you were able to spot was John.  “HI (Y/N)! so good to see you again” he jumped into your arms, clearly already plastered, his stinging breath of alcohol was the proof. “Hi Deaky, how have you been?” “couldn’t be better, Ronnie is pregnant again, we’re expecting in February and I’m doing GREEEAAAT” his whole face lit up by the mention of her name.  “And Robert is the cutest child, he’s already trying to fiddle around the bass. Can you believe that??” he was such a proud dad, offered you some booze from his cup, but you declined. “Hi (Y/N), you look great” Brian appeared next to John, he’d grown a little beard over the last six months, and it fitted him. “If you’re looking for Freddie, he’s somewhere over there” he pointed towards a table. It was true. Freddie was there, surrounded by quite a few people around the table, Mary to his right, a guy with a full beard and glasses to his left. And Roger was also sitting there, hands intertwined with a brunette girl, laughing along with the others“His new girlfriend… Dominique” Brian whispered from behind into your ear as he caught you staring at the two. “Oh” You grabbed Deaky who was still by your side “Time for some shots” Roger had already moved on. After all the shit he gave you, begging you to stay, claiming he could never ever get over you. What a fucking liar.  “4 shots of vodka for the lady and me” Deaky slurred to the bartender, he obliged. Freddie’s parties were the best, you could get everything there. Every drink, drug, the most exotic and bizarre food you could imagine etc.  A final bill of six figures would often be the result of those adventurous and exquisite celebrations. After downing the shots, Deaky went to greet other people and probably also tell them stories about his kid. “You came” Freddie hugged you from behind you were slightly startled knocking your new drink over. You turned around and he eyed you up and down. “Fuck me, you look hot.” “Happy Birthday Freddie, thank you for the invitation” you gave him a kiss on the cheek.

“Don’t have to thank me, darling. I would like to introduce you to someone” he made a gesture to the man next to him. “Hi, love, I’m Elton” Elton John greeted you, he was wearing a plaid black and red shirt with a green blazer, white glasses, a red beret sitting on top of his head, perfectly matching with his shoes. You were so starstruck, couldn’t even get a word out.“And this is Ray, my manager” Elton made a gesture, signaling that you would strike gold with him. At least for the night. Ray was very handsome, dark brown hair, dark eyes, the cutest smile, a light blush on his cheeks and a floral blouse that hugged his rather slim frame. “… and when I found him, he was only wearing a chicken costume and had no shoes on” you nearly died of laughter listening to all the funny stories and experiences that Ray had witnessed, while accompanying many musicians on tour. In the corner of your eye you were able to spot Roger with one hand slung around his new girlfriend, the other one clutching a bottle of beer in front of him. Seeing him like this weighed you down a bit. It could have been you in that position. The sadness finally disappeared when you caught him watching you. Time to give him a show. “Is your boyfriend somewhere around here?” Ray took a sip from his whiskey sour.“Nope”“Fiancé?” You shook your head. “ I’m single actually” Ray nearly choked on his drink.“A beautiful girl like you? Single? I can’t quite believe that” he reached his hand forward to touch yours.“Believe what you want, but I’m definitely not planning on leaving alone tonight” you gave him a wink. “Is that so?” he smirked, leaning forward. Just as your lips were about to brush, a tap on your shoulder. Roger. “what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he sounded pissed, but still sober. “excuse me? What am I doing? Seriously Roger?”“stop that, will you now? I can’t even look at you” you looked at him confused. “hey mate” Ray patted Roger on shoulder, trying to calm him down a bit. “Don’t fucking touch me.” He pushed Ray’s hand off. “ok ok” Ray threw his hands up in defeat. “What do you want Roger?” you asked him, in hope he would leave you two alone.“I want to talk.”“Now? You want to talk NOW? We broke up six months ago and now you…”“Wait, wait, you guys were together?” Ray interrupted you. “Yeah for five bloody years, now will you please get lost?” Roger shot at him. Ray got up from his barstool, telling you he’d be over by the tables across the room, if you needed anything. As soon as it was only the two of you, Roger’s look softened. “I missed you. So so much” He tried to touch your cheek, but you were quick to push his hand away.“ yeah, I doubt that. I mean… You already replaced me, Rog”“that’s not true” he whined.“yeah it is, Brian already told me, Dominique is her name, isn’t it?” You were never the person to throw others into the pan or gossip. But the mention of Brian telling you kind of just slipped out. “I only brought her along a few times, it’s nothing serious” he said, studying you.“Yeah, as if that would make things any better.” “She’s only a distraction. Because you’re not mine anymore. And I can’t stand that. I’ve tried to forget you, which is hard when I still have done nothing but thought about you every single day. Can’t get anything done without you” he looked at his hands that laid flat on the tabletop of the bar. Roger realized that this was his last chance, his last chance of a shot with you and as that realization hit him, a single hot tear ran down his cheek. “Please (Y/N). I need you.”“Roger, I don’t think this is going to work out.”“ It will work. We just have to keep on trying. One more time. Just give me one chance. Its all I need. I will get everything right this time. I don’t want to be without you. I miss our conversations, miss the feeling I get when you’re around me. I even miss our arguments. I still love you, (Y/N).” A tight hug was your answer. “Please tell me that this is a yes” he sniffed into you shoulder. “Ok, Roger. One last chance” He gave you a warm smile and took your hand. “Will you please take me home now?” he asked. Walking out of the restaurant, you received a few confused looks from Brian and especially Ray. Freddie on the other hand smiled, as the two of you passed him hand in hand. He surely had something to do with the whole situation, but you never found out if he actually did. “I’m sorry for being so harsh earlier” Roger mumbled with his head on your chest, on the verge of dozing of to sleep. “Seeing you with another man… it was too much, I’m so sorry. I’ll never do that again”“It’s ok. I felt the same seeing you with someone else, quickly grabbed Deaky for some drinks” he smiled into your skin as you continued gliding your fingers through his hair until your eyes became heavy.

[fresh-outta-jams]

Plastic Heart - Part 14

Namjoon x Reader Author: Mo Summary: When you get the highly-anticipated BTS dolls for Christmas, your life takes a turn in a way you never could have expected. Note: Ooooooooof y’all aren’t ready. You think you’re ready, but you’re not ready. <3 Warnings: None? heheheh Word Count: 1.8k

Prologue, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14

It was late. You’d put Koya to bed a while ago, and the other boys were in their beds, too. Namjoon was sitting across the couch from you while you read one of the new books you’d picked up. He took a nervous breath and scooted a little closer to you. The clock was ticking closer and closer to midnight, and he was afraid that whatever had happened to him was a Cinderella deal. So, you agreed to stay up with him just in case. You didn’t want him to be alone if he did change back.

“Hey, uh…” Namjoon’s hands were shaking, and he fiddled with his fingers. You put a bookmark in your book and set it on the coffee table, turning your full attention on him. “Nevermind, it’s nothing.”

“It’s obviously not nothing, Namjoon.” You reached over and took one of his big hands in both of yours, scooting closer so you were right up against him, your legs curled up against his thigh. “Talk to me. What’s going on?”

“I’m so scared.” He admitted quietly. “Today was the best day of my life. I...I never want to go back to being...you know…”

“And if you do, we’ll figure it out. I promise. This happened once already, who’s to say it won’t happen again?” You suggested, squeezing his hand.

“You’re right.” He nodded, obviously still thinking about it. He gave one of your hands a little squeeze. “There’s...something else.”

“Okay…”

Namjoon turned to face you more, looking into your eyes before inhaling a nervous little breath and looking away. He took both of your hands in both of his, thumbs carefully tracing circles over their backs. “I have to tell you this before...in case I never get the chance to be this big again.”

He glanced at the clock. 11:55. Five minutes. Shit. His heart lurched. Well, it was now or never. “I’veBeenInLoveWithYouSinceChristmasAndI’veBeenTooPlasticAndSmallToDoAnythingAboutItUntilNow, but--” He took a large breath and tried to gauge a reaction.

“One more time?” You asked gently, looking at him with those big, kind eyes. Your hand rose to frame his cheek, a careful thumb brushing against his dimple.

“I’m...I…” He hung his head, too ashamed to meet your eyes. He couldn’t do this. He’d ruin everything the two of you had. “I can’t…”

And he would have stopped there, had it not been for the look in your eye, the pleading ache to be able to make everything better. You hated seeing him in pain, especially emotional pain. So, he decided to say it.

“I love you, (Y/N). And not just in a...toy and his girl kind of way.” He exhaled a shaking sigh, his eyes locked determinedly on the coffee table. “I know it’s weird, and I know I shouldn’t because...I’m just...you know...I’m a toy and you’re this perfect human girl and I just…”

“Joon…” You were quiet for a concerning amount of time. “You’re not a toy anymore. And you’re certainly allowed to have human emotions, okay? You’re not stupid and it’s not weird and…” You sighed, squeezing his hand with one of yours while the other tilted his face up to look at you again. There were tears welling in his eyes, the sting of rejection hovering over his heart, ever patient and waiting to deliver a final blow. “Namjoon, I would be stupid to not be in love with you.”

“What are you saying?” His eyebrows furrowed, hope trudging through the swamp of doubt. “You…”

“I love you too. A lot. A ridiculous amount.” You chuckled to yourself. “I just...until today, that could have never been a possibility. But...now…”

Namjoon’s breath caught before he whispered, “Are you being serious?”

“Of course I am. What, do I have to prove it to you?”

“I’d…” He swallowed thickly, his Adam’s apple bobbing and heart pounding in his chest. “I’d like it if you did…P-please...”

Not waiting a second longer, you stood up from the couch, turned, and straddled his thick thighs. He gasped at your proximity, your boldness, at everything. This morning when he’d been standing in your bathroom, he’d never imagined his first day as a human would lead him here...That said, he certainly was not complaining.

“I don’t know how to do this…” he whispered, looking up at you with his innocent brown eyes.

“Then let me teach you.” You let one hand wander into his thick brown locks while the other tilted his chin up with an index finger. Slowly, you brought your lips to his, closing the space between you. It was intimate and sweet, his lips soft and careful, afraid of making a wrong move. You could feel his heart racing against you.

Tentatively, one of his large hands rose to settle on your hip, the other reaching to rest against your back, pulling you closer to him. Closer, closer, closer until you were on the verge of fusing into one person. He took a shaking breath and deepened the kiss, tilting his head just so.

You got lost in his touch, his warmth, the feeling of his hands touching just the right places, and his lips exploring your own. Your soul was on fire, your heart ablaze, and your legs trembling. You’d wanted to do this all day, and God, was it worth the wait…

You weren’t sure how much time had passed between the moment you first kissed him and the moment you pulled apart to rest your forehead against his, breathing heavily.

“Holy shit…” He huffed, pulling you against him and squeezing his eyes shut. “Holy fuck...I...That was amazing. I-I can’t breathe.”

“Are we sure that was your first kiss?”

He chuckled deeply. “I think that counts as at least twenty first kisses.” He slumped back against the couch with you still perched on top of his thighs. You curled against his chest, which was still heaving, desperate for air.

“We made it.” You motioned to the clock, which read 12:03. It was past midnight, which could only mean… “You’re human, Namjoon.”

“I’m human.” He laughed a little in disbelief. There were no weird feelings in his chest, nothing changing within him. He’d made it. His eyes lit up and he looked at you, tears of joy welling. “I-I’m human!”

“You are!” You pecked his lips three or four times. “How do you want to celebrate?”

“Can I just...kiss you twenty more times?”

“I’m down with that plan.”

***

When you woke up the next morning, sunlight was streaming through the curtains of your living room. Your pillow...wasn’t a pillow at all. Instead it was a broad chest, steadily rising and falling with sleepy breaths. You looked up to find Namjoon, his eyes still closed, mouth slightly open as soft snores escaped him. His strong arms were tight around you and his legs were tangled in yours, a mess of limbs.

You closed your eyes and soaked it in. Until this moment, yesterday hadn’t felt real, instead, you’d figured it must have been some dream. But now, laying here, trapped in his embrace, you knew it had to be real, as real as the man cuddling you to his chest.

A few minutes of quiet bliss later, you opened your eyes to see a little blue Koala waddling over towards you. He looked up at you, watching you quietly.

“Hi, Koya. Do you need something, sweetie?”

He nodded and waddled closer, reaching up with both hands. You picked him up and let him cuddle into Namjoon’s chest beside you.

“Mmmm…” Namjoon hummed, shifting. He blinked a few times and a sleepy dimpled grin spread across his handsome features. “Good morning…”

“Good morning.” You kissed his cheek. “How’d you sleep?”

“Really well.” He murmured, brushing a few strands of hair out of your face. “Really, really fucking well, baby.”

“That’s new.” You teased, reaching up to stroke his cheek before poking his nose.

“Sorry, it just kind of...slipped out.”

“No, I liked it.”

“Oh. Well, in that case, good morning, baby.” The arm he still had coiled around you tightened and he pressed a long kiss to the crown of your head, thinking quietly for a few moments before whispering, “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this…How long I’ve wanted YOU…”

“I think I have some idea…”

“Oh, Koya.” Namjoon smiled, gently petting the koala’s head with one of his long fingers. “Hey, little buddy.”

“I think he’s already asleep.” You laughed, listening as he snored quietly. “He gets that from his dad.”

“I snore?” Namjoon looked at you and you nodded, giggling.

“Not as bad as RM does, I’m sure.”

“RM snores too?”

“Yes. He does. He had surgery to fix some of it, but he still snores a little. From what I’ve heard, anyway.”

“I FIGURED IT OUT!” Yoongi sprinted into the living room, Hoseok hot on is trail. “I know why Namjoon is human now!”

They looked up at the two of you, each of them smirking when they saw the position you were in. Hoseok addressed it first, smug. “Well don’t you two look awful cozy?”

“And what about it?” Namjoon blushed. The two of you sat up slowly, and Koya relocated himself to Namjoon’s lap. His arm wrapped around your shoulders while the other focused on gently scratching Koya’s head.

“So what did you find out?” You asked, leaning into Namjoon’s warmth.

“According to this blogger, there was a shooting star the night before everything happened, right around the time you and Namjoon were talking in the kitchen.”

“You think a shooting star did...this?”

“Well, I didn’t until I read this forum post from ANOTHER former toy who had basically the same thing happen to her. She’s a Barbie doll living in New York who’s working on her fashion career.” He handed you a page he’d printed. “Apparently it’s happened a few times, but it’s still pretty rare, especially unintentionally.”

“Oh wow.” Namjoon looked over the article, scanning it quickly. “So I...It’s really permanent, then.”

“Yeah, seems like it.” Yoongi nodded. “That also means that with the proper timing, the rest of us could do the same.”

“What are you guys talking about?” Jimin led the other four out to the living room.

“Nothing. We can talk about it later.” Namjoon changed the subject. “Jagiya, I’ll help with breakfast.”

“‘Jagiya?’” You asked. There it was again. Another snippet of Korean. There had been more of them these days despite the fact that you hadn’t shown them very many BTS videos recently, so they hadn’t really had a way to pick up more Korean.

“Yeah, it just...slipped out.” He rubbed the back of his neck, grinning shyly.

“Fair enough.” You turned his face towards him, kissing him softly before getting up from the couch. You’d plugged your phone in and set it across the room the night before, so of course you had to check everything you’d missed overnight.

You opened up Twitter to see if BTS had Tweeted anything new, and boy, were you surprised to look at the top trending. The one at the very tippy top was.

#RMHasAGirlfriend

You clicked on it, heart racing, and scrolled through pictures and screenshot after screenshot of pictures of you and Namjoon from your day at the mall.

“Oh, Fuck…”

Tagged: @iie-wakarimasen, @lilgaga98, @catbugsugarpea, @demonic-meatball, @backtonormalthings, @kbowen9, @honig-bienchen, @coolcat494, @ffantasylandd, @feed-my-geek-soul, @ayoo-bangtan, @xxqueenwxtchxx, @cap-lu20, @finninpoposu, @coldbookworm, @sitkafay, @daniawinchesters21, @okaysoplshelpme, @zamirayinyue13

[ashes-and-ashes]

For the kisses list.. if you want 75 or 13... Good life :)

Okay so I did a speed write thing? This took me 30 minutes, and is 1.7k words. Sorry if it is crappy - I just was trying to write as many words as I can! (And I know it’s not 2k’s!! Sorry!!! I tried, but I’ve only written 2k words ONCE and that was when writing that Drarry fic!!)

#75 - Kisses meant to distract someone

~

Distraction

He stares at the paper, crumpled in his hand. The ink is smudged from where he grasped it, the edges ripped and slightly torn.

The words are darkly printed, carved into the parchment in a writing that is so familiar to him, a writing that haunts his dreams every night. Regulus’ writing is elegant, clean lines and defined print, so different from Sirius’ untidy scrawl. He supposed Regulus had always been like that, always willing to do anything to please his parents.

The words are burned into his memory, from the countless number of times he’s read the letter. The owl came at breakfast, landing in front of his porridge bowl, and he still remembers the feeling of nausea fishing up in his throat as he swallows.

Sirius,

Don’t come home. You can’t. I know you’re thinking of it, but you can’t. They will kill you. Actually, physically kill you.

Mum has burned you off the family tree. You can’t be a Death Eater anymore. You’ve been disowned.

I’m fine. They haven’t hurt me too bad yet.

Don’t respond. They are watching my mail.

-R

There’s something like Shane burning in his chest, a thick oily feeling that fills his stomach, his heart, his soul. He abandoned Regulus, left him at the mercy of his parents, unprotected and vulnerable and he feels vile rise up in his mouth. He swallows, hard, trying to banish the feeling.

He remembers when they were 7 and 6, both hiding underneath Sirius’ bed. Hiding from their mother, who even back then had no qualms about taking her fury out on her two sons. She had lashed out at Regulus, making his nose bleed, before Sirius had stepped in. He had earned a nasty cut in his forehead, and they huddled under the bed, trying not to sneeze from all the dust lurking in the cracks.

Regulus had whispered, keeping his voice low. I hate it here.

Sirius nodded. Me too.

Regulus tugged at Sirius’ sleeve, pulled at his hair. I don’t like it here. I don’t like being hurt. He pauses. We should run away, Sirius! We can escape, to that school you’re going to! Hogwarts or something, and we can ask if they would let us in early and - .

There’s something like hope in his chest, imagining the life they would have if they did decide to run. Run, far away, where Walburga couldn’t catch them, where they didn’t have to live in fear of the curses, the screaming, the pain and the injuries.

He scoffs, punching himself. It was a foolish thought, a hopeless one, and Sirius bit his lip. He had learnt, years before, that screaming only infuriated Walburga more, encouraged her to keep cursing, and so, he had taught himself not to make any noise. No. But I promise, I will always protect you.

From her? Regulus had asked.

Sirius nodded his head. Yes. I’ll always be there for you. Always.

He grimaces now, that broken promise slicing up his chest. It had shattered, into sharp, ugly things, twisted remains of past vows, and Sirius swears, under his breath.

He’s alone in the common room, taking up one of his favorite desks, and he sighs as he bends over an essay. Transfiguration, a 6 inch roll of parchment on the dangers of vanishing living objects, and it was due in roughly 8 hours.

Sirius glances at the clock, and he bangs his head on the table. 2 am in the morning, and he still had another 5 inches left to go.

He bites his lip. It was getting harder and harder to concentrate, ever since he left, the guilt and the anguish eating him up inside. The nightmares had returned, Regulus chained up and screaming, Remus writhing under silver weights, Peter being burned alive and James drowning. Dark dreams for someone so young, and yet, they never faded away. It was harder to concentrate, to laugh and speak, getting harder and harder to sometimes breathe.

He can feel the panic, at the back of his throat, bitter and metallic and raw. He swallows hard, trying to banish the feeling, trying to ignore it, trying to think of something else other then the mindless, suffocating terror that always starting to overwhelm him -

He hears the door creak open, and his heart stops. He couldn’t let anyone see him like this, on the verge of shattering completely, and he hastily arranges his mouth into a smile, causally rests his feet on the couch. He stares down at the essay, the words swimming together, praying that whoever walked in would just leave him alone -

He recognizes the person before they speak, recognizes the way their footsteps scho against the ground, the lock of brown hair that falls over his shoulder, the cool hands on his face. Remus frowns, reading over the 1 inch of his essay, the rambled words and slurred writing. “Si. You know this is due tomorrow right?” He pauses. “Well. Technically today, seeing as it is 2:26 in the morning and you still haven’t finished.”

“Shut up,” Sirius mutters, letting his head rest against Remus’. “It’s fine. I’ll get it down. Hell, I may even call it quits. Suck it up and accept a detention or something.”

Remus shakes his head, frowning over Sirus’ shoulder. “Look...this isn’t like you, Pads. Seriously, you’re disorganized, but not this disorganized.”

Sirius shakes his head. “Tell me about it.” He yawns. “Anyways, I need to finish. I…”

He trails off, cursing himself as he watches Remus’ eyes fix on the piece of paper lying on the ground by Sirius’ foot. Sirius jumps, trying to wrench it away from Remus’ eyes, but Remus is too quick for him. He lunges forward, snatching the scrap of paper and flattens it out. “What the hell is thsi, Si?”

Sirius shakes his head. “Nothing. It’s nothing.”

“Bullshit.” Remus eyes are dark, scanning the page in front of him. “You’ve been disowned?”

The cold sinks into Sirius’ gut, the shame of the words eating him up inside. He sinks down, onto the floor, biting his lip as he did so. “I don’t know. It’s...it’s from Regulus. I…” He lets out a bitter laugh. “I abandoned him. Left him alone, with my fucked-up parents. And...guess they disowned me.”

Remus looks up. “Why can’t you get the Dark Mark now?”

Sirius sighs. “If I’m disowned...I’m not part of a family, right? I’m not part of the Sacred 28. I can’t be a Death Eater. I’m not considered a pure blood.” He shakes his head. “God. I don’t even know why I care so much. I shouldn’t care, right? I should be celebrating, because I got away from my parents! I’m finally free.” He bites his lip. “So why do I feel like I’m being ripped apart inside?”

Remus reaches over, packing a hand on Sirius’ cheek. “It’s natural. They raised you. They are still your family.”

“Buckshot. Family wouldn’t torture their own child.” Suspensions dogs the words out. “Family wouldn’t use Crucio until their own son passes out. Family wouldn’t lock their child in a cellar with no food for 3 days because the child spilt some water. Family wouldn’t tell their son every minute, every hour, every second of the day that he is wrong, because he’s in a different house then them.” Sirius’ voice is quiet, drifting off, shattered and dull and broken. “Family wouldn’t do that. They are not my family.”

Remus nods, glancing over at the essay lying on the ground. “I’m sorry, Sirius. I’m so sorry.”

Sirius shrugs. “Life is screwed up. Can’t do anything about it.”

“Why didn’t he leave?” Remus glands back down at the paper. “Why didn’t he leave with you? Why didn’t he run?”

Sirius lets out a short chuckle. “That’s Regulus. Always worried about the family’s reputation.” He bites his lip, hard, hard enough that the blood wells in his mouth. He welcomes the pai, the sudden bite of the air against the bleeding cut, and he scoffs. “Probably too scared to riks badgering mother.”

Remus frowns. “He sent you the letter.”

“Not that hard, to get one measly letter out the door.” Sirius mutters. He turns to the essay, almost ripping the paper in his ferocity. “I have to get this out.”

“Sirius - “ Remus sighs. “He’s your brother, Sirius. He cares for you.”

“Cares for me?” Sirius’ voice is flat. “I protected him. For 16 goddamn years I protected him. I took every Crucio, every Lacero, every Dolor and Confodere and Spinam and I did it to keep him safe because if he was hurt, it would kill me.” He stabs at the paper, tearing a rip in the side, smearing the ink over the page. “And I carry the scars around, all over my back, and he didn’t do anything. He did nothing, nothing to help me, nothing tos save me and when I finally snapped - “

“He let you go.” Remus’ voice is calm, gentle. He pulls away from the desk, cradling his shaking body with his own. “I could never imagine, what you go through. I’m just saying that maybe Regulus planned this out. Maybe he wanted you to hate him.”

Sirius lets out a short laugh. “Why would he want you to do that.”

“Because.” Remus brushes the hair from Sirius’ face. “You wouldn’t feel inclined to stay behind if you hated him.”

The words sink deep, slicing Sirius up inside, and he glares down at the floor, trying not to cry. “That’s not true. Why would he - “

There are gentle hands on his face, tilting his chin up, and Remus cuts him off with a kiss. It’s sloppy, at an awkward angle, Remus bending over him, just a slight brushing of lips, but Sirius feels himself melting. He reaches up, grasping Remus’ face, cupping his cheekbones with his palms, pressing them closer, pressing them harder, so close until all they can do is breathe each other in.

Remus huffs a laugh. “Distracted?”

“Shut up,” Sirius mutters, pulling Remus on top of him.

~

When Sirius wakes up the next morning, the couch is cold.

He sits up, frowning, running a hand through his already disheveled hair, glancing at the clock.

He almost falls off the cushions with shock. It’s 7:30, classes start in 45 minutes and he still has another 5 inches left on his essay -

The thought dies off as he looks beside him, sees the roll of parchment on the desk. Sirius gapes as he walks over, sees the scroll resting neatly on the table. Beside it is a note:

Sorry for distracting you. xoxox Re

[grimscale-mercenaries]

Tears & Treason

Written by: Thaelea Solarsphere

A fire burned in the hearth of a modest manor on the outskirts of Darkshire. It wasn’t that cool in the dreary forest, but Thaelea certainly felt a chill. It had been trying day and night. So much lost in so little time. And for what? Pride? Stubbornness? A sense of self-righteousness that she, herself, was always railing against? As she sat before the fire, pale, half-lidded eyes staring into the flames with a complete lack of expression, the Ren’dorei replayed the events of the past twenty-four hours over and over in her head.

Her emotional state was something of a mess. Lea had gone from anger, born from a sense that she had been ignored or marginalized, to sorrow, owed to a feeling of betrayal, and finally to...nothing. She felt nothing. Since Dusty, the ever-pleasant Worgen Druid had tried to console her earlier in the day, Thaelea had been blank. She’d been staring into the fire with an uninterrupted stare for the better part of two hours, a small note clutched lightly in her right hand, when Saraena felt the need to speak to her mother. 

“Is everything okay, Mom?” She asked. The newest addition to the Solarsphere line, Saraena, had the appearance of an eighteen-year old Human, yet was scarcely four months old. The accelerated aging her mother had employed on the girl just recently completed, leaving her physically mature, and mentally mature...enough. “You’ve been sitting here for a while.” The concerned daughter’s words went unanswered. She was nervous. Lea had never seemed quite so off, though she had been prone to emotional instability before. She tried again. “Mom…?” “What is it, Saraena?” At last she answered. “I was worried. You haven’t said a word since you got home.” “I’m...thinking, love. It’s been a rough day. I’m sorry if I’ve neglected you.” “Of course not. I’m a big girl; I can take care of myself.” She smiled and approached her mother, taking her free hand. “Can I get you anything?” “No, thank you.” Lea’s gaze turned to her daughter. The first, genuine smile in two days spread across her face. “You know, you are the only thing I’ve done right since my exile. I can’t imagine life without you.” The elder Solarsphere squeezed the hand of her daughter and drew her in for an embrace. “Can you keep an eye on the house tonight? I need to take a trip overnight. I’ll be back tomorrow.” “A trip?” The concern in Saraena’s tone was evident. “Why don’t I come with you? You’re not yourself, Mom. I don’t want anything to happen to you.” “I’ll be fine, love. I just need to see someone.” Lea took her daughter to her chest in yet another hug, ensuring that her child did not see her throw the parchment in her right hand to the flames. 

After a few preparations and gathering of provisions, Lea called for her demonic steed and set off into the night. After leaving the city limits of Darkshire, the supernatural beast left the ground and took to the skies, flying while looking as though it were running on thin air. Lea headed north, through Elwynn Forest, and finally into the Burning Steppes. Even flying, the trip took hours. It was past midnight when the Ren’dorei finally reached her destination, landing about a mile West of Blackrock Mountain. Apart from the wandering Dragonkin and a few fire elementals, the immediate area was devoid of life and structure. But Thaelea would not have come here idly. There was a reason.

Lea spent roughly an hour at the location in the Burning Steppes, waiting in utter silence. But for what? What could have enticed her to take an unplanned journey to the Burning Steppes of all places? Why would she- “Well, hello, my errant daughter.” Thaelea froze. The voice was unmistakable. It was the first time she’d heard it in over a year, and it still sent an ominous chill through her body. Reluctantly, the woman turned to face the source of the voice. And there he was, Thaeleon Solarsphere, a lord of Silvermoon and the patriarch of House Solarsphere. “Father…” She answered, the nervousness plain in her voice.

Thaeleon did not come alone, nor did he arrive by similar methods. As Lea laid eyes on her father, she saw the portal closing behind him, and cast her violet hues on the small retinue he brought with him. Six men, in all: two Farstriders and four Blood Knights. Being a noble of influence meant that Thaeleon went nowhere without a guard. The man drew his arms behind his back and walked towards his daughter. Thaeleon was her father, but even so, his presence always unsettled her. He dressed in greens and blacks, wore epaulets with spikes protruding from them, and gave off an aura of Fel so strong that Lea’s own aura could go unnoticed in his presence. Thaeleon was a Warlock with some six hundred years experience, and not to be trifled with. 

“You’ve been ignoring my letters.” Thaeleon’s eyes, like two small embers of Fel-fire, weighed heavily on his daughter. “I’ve been busy. I joined a group that-” “Yes, I know. Relic-hunters and mercenaries. Very disappointing.” “How did-” “You should know by now that nothing escapes my sight, Thaelea. I’m told you were cast out recently. Still having trouble fitting in, I see.” “It wasn’t...like that.” Lea stood there, like a child being lectured. She held her hands, one over the other, before her, and stood with slouched shoulders and a bowed head. “They’re good people.” “Then why are you no longer among them?” “I…” She winced. The wound was fresh. She didn’t want to talk about it. “That’s not what this is about.” “Thaelea.” When his daughter lifted her gaze, she was greeted by a sharp slap to her right cheek. “I asked you a question.” Lea grabbed her face and stroked the stinging flesh. “I...Made mistakes…” “Yes, you did. Thinking that you would find comfort in Human kingdom, believing for a moment that you’d ever be one of them.” “What would you have had me do?! I was banished! I had nowhere to go! And you let-” Another slap was delivered to the already-damaged cheek. Even now, a bruise began to form. “You should have died. Instead you sully our House by joining the enemy. I should end your misery right here and now. Fortunately for you, my dear, I am a merciful man.”

Much of the day had been spent in tears. Only Dusty was permitted to see Lea in such a state, and even that was embarrassing for her. Now, Lea was on the verge of tearing up again. ‘Haven’t I suffered enough?’, she thought to herself as her father paced around her, like a vulture circling its next meal. ‘Isn’t it enough that I live in anguish? That I’ve suffered for over a year in exile?’ Such thoughts were kept to herself, as any further protest would surely have earned her another slap, or worse. Thaeleon Solarsphere was not a man who enjoyed debate. 

The Ren’dorei stood in silence for several moments, waiting for her father to speak again. All the while, she looked to the retinue that had accompanied him. They were armed in the usual fashion for their military branches, though each of them bore the silver emblem of House Solarsphere on their arms. They may have served Quel’Thalas, but they served Thaeleon -first-. “I have a use for you.” At last, he spoke. The wait had seemed like an eternity. And the words gave Thaelea a strange happiness. “You...need me?” She asked, eyes wide in surprise. “Yes. And by a strange twist of fate, you are ideally placed to assist me.”

Thaelea very nearly trembled at the prospect. If her father wanted something of her, it would not be good. It may very well lead to her death. However, she knew her father long enough that when he said he had a use for her, he wasn’t asking. He was commanding. “What do you want?” Thaeleon halted, now positioned behind her. “Do you know why they cast you out?” This again. Why did he have to speak of this? “B-because I...made mistakes.” “Yes, and what were those mistakes?” “I..” This was perhaps more tortuous than his slapping her. Forcing her to admit to him, to his entourage, and to herself that she had done wrong was agonizing. “I was prideful...I didn’t respect my colleagues. I wasn’t consider-” “No.” “...No?” “You are an Elf. These pitiful creatures have no right to presume themselves your equal. Pride, dignity, superiority, these are the things that make Elves who we are. Your mistakes were not to hold yourself above them, but to think them your friends.” “But...They are...They were…” “They’re nothing. Your sentimental nature caused you to latch onto lesser beings to replace the connections you lost in Quel’Thalas. That’s all they were. They should have understood you were better than them. Even diminished as you are, you are still an Elf. You are a goddess among ants.”

Perhaps Thaelea had spent too much time around Humans. There was a time when such words would have made sense. But to her ears, they were wrong. Even as smug and superior as she acted, it was a far cry from the person she used to be. As her father tried to re-integrate such ideas into his daughter, they just wouldn’t take root. ‘No. This is wrong.’ The words rang in her mind. ‘They were...good people. Covie was not..is not beneath me.’ 

This was a mistake. Thaelea should never have accepted the invitation to meet. The impulse to flee rose in her. Eyes began darting around. Maybe she can get to cover long enough to use her hearthstone. But as the thought occurred to her, one of the Farstriders, bow in hand, just shook his head. He could see in Thaelea’s eyes what she was thinking. He’d have an arrow through her heart before she took two steps...No, through her ankle. Her father wouldn’t let her off that easy. Lea was trapped. She had dug her own grave on this one. 

“There is something that I want.” Thaeleon’s voice interrupted her inner thoughts, pulling her focus back to reality. “It is in Human hands. You, and the insects you surround yourself with, will retrieve it for me.” Thaelea blinked at her father. “I don’t work for them anymore.” “So rejoin them.” “They’ll...never take me back.” “They will.” “Father..There’s no-” She was struck again, this time so forcefully that it sent her to the ground. Lea winced as she hit the ground, staring up at her father from the dusty, ashy soil of the Steppes. “I can’t go back! They won’t forgive me!” “I don’t care. You will find a way to ingratiate yourself back into their graces, you will induce them into procuring this relic, and then you will give it to me.” The Solarsphere patriarch threw a wrapped parchment onto the ground beside his daughter. “When you have it, contact me, then conjure a gateway within the city, somewhere discreet. I will come to claim it.” “You...You’ll come to Stormwind?” “I thought I’d take one last look before Sylvanas burns it to the ground.” The assembled Elves behind him chuckled. “You will see this done.”

Lea took the parchment, then returned to her feet. “Why?” She asked. A sudden silence fell upon the group. Thaeleon turned his gaze on his daughter, Fel energy burning in his eyes. “What did you just say?” Lea bowed her head, not meeting her father’s gaze. “What you ask…” He interjected quickly. “I don’t ask.” She winced. “What you...command, it will require much on my part...I deserve...something.” The idea of compensating his daughter for her service actually caused Thaeleon to laugh. “And what is it you want? To come home?  Very well. Do this, and I will-” “No.” Lea’s gaze raised to meet her father’s. “You’ll betray me...That’s what you do. Family is treacherous...unreliable.” “Is that so?” He chuckled again. “You’re probably right. Who can resist the temptation?”

Thaelea shut her eyes. She wanted to cry. Things kept going from bad to worse to worst since the previous evening. But this was no time for tears. Showing vulnerability before a serpent ready to strike will only encourage it. “I want...Saraena to go home.” The chuckling from her father stopped. He grew irritated. “You want me to take that bastard child of yours to Quel’Thalas? She’s just another piece of filth from your new-” Thaelea howled. “NO!” Her skin grew dark, becoming Void-like. The Elven retinue drew their weapons, prepared to defend their lord. “You may berate me, insult my friends, even strike me...But you will NOT speak ill of Saraena.” 

In that moment, Thaelea had found courage. But she was also petrified. Her expression was ferocious, but hid terror in her heart. Thaeleon watched his daughter in silence. It wouldn’t be surprising for him to kill her right there and then. He was spoken of among the nobility in Silvermoon as the ‘lord of Fel-flame’. Thaeleon could incinerate his daughter in moments. And she was ready for it. Lea wouldn’t go down willingly. She’d lose, but she would fight. “Very well.” The Ren’dorei was gripped by shock. Did he just…? “I will arrange for your daughter to be taken to Quel’Thalas. I’ll even enchant something that will allow her to appear as Sin’dorei, rather than spending the rest of her life in the dungeon.” Though she had resolved to not cry in front of her father, Lea could not hold back the single tear that ran down her cheek, born from the relief of knowing that her daughter could go home. “Bring me what I seek. And I will give you this...gift.” 

Can he really be trusted? He admitted not five minutes ago that he would betray his own daughter; how can Lea trust him to honor the agreement for his granddaughter? “How can I trust you?” She asked, eyes focused on her father. “I’ll bring the item that will allow her to assume Sin’dorei form with me when you summon me. You can arrange her own way north and not entrust it to me.” That was the best she could hope for. Even so, she was certain he would betray her. Thaeleon turned on everyone. He was well known for his treachery, and Lea had seen him betray others numerous times. But...what choice did she have? 

“Alright...I’ll do it.” Lea conceded. “What is it you need?” Thaeleon shook his head. “I’ll inform you of that once you’re in a position to get it. Start with rejoining your little company.” A soft sigh slid out of Thaelea’s lips. “I don’t know how. They’ll never-” “Give them what they want. They think you are prideful, arrogant. Return to them in submission. Beg, plead, cry, do whatever you must.” “How...How can you expect me to do this? It’s so undignified…” “For me, yes. For you? What does it matter? Your status is less than dirt. So crawl through it, kiss the feet of your so-called friends, and see it done.” “Yes father...As you wish…”

Lea’s father moved away from her, without so much as an embrace, a kiss, or a single kind word spoken. “You have one month.” He added as a portal opened behind his group. “Find your way back into their company by then, or my granddaughter will pay for your failure.” Lea’s eyes widened “Wait...That’s not-” Thaeleon held up a hand, calling for his daughter to silence herself. “We are done speaking, daughter. Return to your rat’s nest in Duskwood. You have much to do tomorrow.” He turned and stepped into the portal with his guards and he was gone as easily as he had arrived. 

Thaelea was left alone. She fell onto the ground, propped up on one arm with her legs bent at the knee. “I’m sorry, Saraena...This is the best I can do…” Her eyes shut, and tears again streamed down her face. It had been that kind of day. “Forgive me, Covie…” 

[tinybibmpreg]

Day 96 // ft. Clyde, Sawyer, Mishal, Wittenberg, Dr. Milton Pender, and Aiden/Aster

#62 / Remember

“Pack your shit and go. Get the fuck out of my sight!” Clyde hissed at his brother, fists clenched. Tears streamed down his face, and Sawyer stared at him with cold eyes. “Go!”

“You don’t understand the severity of the mistake you’re making, Clyde.”

“You stole everything from me! I don’t want you near me ever again!”

“Clyde, you idiot. I’m doing what I must.”

“That was my demon! You stole my demon!”

“You asked for my help controlling him. It’s not my fault he decided that I was the better master to serve… You never were as good as me. All of our mother’s magical ability must have been passed down to me.”

“Get out!”

-

“Aster, Aster, Aster…!” Wittenberg cackled when the toddler reached for him. He lowered his head down so the boy could touch him. As the toddler cooed, he shook with laughter. “Aren’t you such a good boy, Aster? Aren’t you so cute?”

“He’s perfect, isn’t he?” Sawyer knelt down next to them and stroked the boy’s hair. “Our wonderful creation.”

“Perfect, perfect, picture perfect… Aster, Aster-”

-

Clyde came back into the living room, Mishal behind him with a steaming mug. He picked up Aster and brought him over to the recliner. Aster didn’t want to sit on Clyde’s lap. He wanted his mother. Besides, Clyde’s five-month pregnant belly was starting to take up room on his lap, making it awkward to sit on him.

Mishal gave the mug to Sawyer and then sat on the cushion next to him. He leaned back against the couch and took a sip. “Mm… Thank you.”

“So, uh… Clyde doesn’t really talk about you much. You live in Boston, right? That’s pretty far.”

Before his mother could say anything, Clyde interrupted, voice tight, “Yes. It’s very far from Cali. Sawyer, why are you here?”

“I told you. I need someplace to stay until I have my baby. Mother told me that you have a very peaceful and quiet life, so I came here.”

“Why are you really here?”

His mother set down the mug and rested his hands on top of his heavy belly. After a few moments, he said quietly, “My son died.”

“Huh?”

“Yeah. My son. He got hit by a car last month. It killed him instantly. I haven’t told his father and I don’t plan on telling him until I’m strong enough to defend myself and the baby.”

That… couldn’t be true. How could it be true? He didn’t remember dying. They’d gotten groceries and spell ingredients. There was no reason for them to leave the apartment. He never went out into the road, never left the apartment by himself. Whenever they were out, he’d hold on tight to his mother’s hand.

But… If he was really dead, had he just possessed his cousin? Drawn to someone similar to him, of the same blood-

What would happen to him if he tried to leave that body?

“Sawyer…”

“I don’t want to talk about it. I just want to move on, have this baby, and figure out how to get his father to leave me alone.” Mishal rubbed Sawyer’s arm, saying something to him in a soft voice. Aster wasn’t listening. Clyde hugged him, no doubt imagining what it would be like to lose his own son.

Aster spent the rest of the day playing in Aiden’s room at Mishal’s request. His uncle didn’t want him to bother his mother, telling him the adults needed time to talk and catch up. “Your mom and uncle haven’t talked in a very long time. They need to be alone with each other, okay?”

A few hours later, Clyde came up and peeked into his room. “Aiden, how are you doing?”

“I’m good. I’m drawing pictures of all the butterflies we saw at the zoo.”

“Can I see those pictures you drew of your nightmares?” He gathered up the bunch of them and handed them to Clyde. “Uncle Sawyer knows a lot about dreams. Maybe he can help you get rid of them.”

-

“Why has my son been having nightmares about this?” Clyde thrust the stack of drawings at his brother while his husband was at work, not around to hear him talk about something secret from his past.

Sawyer took the paintings and flipped through them. “It looks like Wittenberg.”

“I know! That’s why I’m showing you!”

“Hm… He never mentioned coming here. Maybe he thinks your son can help him when he’s older? He used to come in the middle of the night to check up on me.”

-

Clyde and Sawyer seemed to have worked out their differences by the next morning. Just in time, too, as Sawyer leaned against the back of the couch and exhaled heavily. He held his belly with one hand.

“Sawyer?”

“D-do you think you can drop me off at the hospital on your way to Aiden’s therapist? The baby’s coming.”

“Oh- That was pretty fast. I thought you’d be here at least a week before it came. How long have you been in labor?”

“Sometime during the night. My water broke an hour ago.”

Mishal clapped his hands together. “Well! Then let’s get going. We’ll be a bit early for Aiden’s appointment, but I’m sure they won’t mind.” He nudged Aster towards the door. “Let’s get your coat and shoes on, Ai.”

“Okay, Dad.”

-

The building they pulled in front of after dropping his mother off at the hospital was not the therapy and rehabilitation center. Instead, it was the largest of the university buildings. Aster frowned as Clyde opened his door and gave him a fake smile. “Come on, sweetie.”

“This isn’t the therapist…”

“No, but you’ll be seeing another doctor that will be able to tell us why you lost your memories.”

Mute, he got out of the car. Clyde and Mishal took his hands and led him up the stairs and through the main doors. The three of them went through the university’s library to a back room labeled for staff only. Clyde scanned an ID card at the door and it unlocked for them.

They went into a room labeled “Dr. Milton Pender.” An older man with wispy, grey hair and thick glasses was sitting behind a desk, mixing two tiny vials together. Against the opposite wall of the desk was a brown sofa, a potted plant on either side of it. The walls were bare except for a single painting on each, different potted plants. Above the couch, a clock.

“Ah. Professor Raleigh, Mr. Raleigh, come in. You’re early.” Dr. Pender stood up and gestured for them to come closer. “And you must be Aiden. How are you?”

“Are you going to figure out what’s wrong with me?”

“I’ll do my best. I trust I’ll have your full cooperation?” Aster didn’t respond to that. Mishal rubbed his back, while Dr. Pender eyed him suspiciously. “Aiden, give me your hand.”

He looked up at Mishal. Though having a father was still strange to him, he trusted Mishal. The man cared about him, genuinely thought that he was his son. He was a good person. Mishal smiled at him and nodded. Aster put his hand on the desk. Dr. Pender put a small stone on top of his hand and said a spell.

It began to glow, a vibrant light. “Ah.”

“What does that mean?” Mishal asked.

“It means that someone or something put a spell on him,” Clyde answered. “Can you tell what kind of curse it is?”

“Of course. Just a moment.” Dr. Pender said another spell. After a few moments, a blurry duplicate of the stone appeared next to it. It partially merged with the original stone, but it was now almost completely blurry. “Possession. Someone is controlling him.”

Mishal frowned, looking down at him with worry in his eyes. “Aiden?”

“Not Aiden. It may be his body, but not his mind. Your assumption was correct, Professor Raleigh.”

“Can you force them out?”

“No!” Aster cried. “Don’t hurt me!” He pulled his hand back down and backed away from them.

“Aiden, we’re not going to hurt you,” Mishal assured.

Clyde put a hand on his husband’s shoulder. “Don’t call him that. Whoever we’re speaking to is not our son.”

“I won’t be mean to him! Aiden might still be in there, listening-”

“We shouldn’t attempt to separate them until we learn more,” Dr. Pender said, standing up. “It could cause more harm than good. For all we know, separating them could kill Aiden or whoever is possessing him.”

“Then what do you suggest, Pender?”

Mishal crouched down and held out a hand to him. “Hey… You’re going to be okay. Don’t be scared.”

“I don’t want to die.” Aster felt like he was on the verge of cracking. “I don’t know what happened. I swear, I woke up in Aiden’s body. I don’t know how I got in him, or if someone did it to me. I want to go home, I don’t want to be Aiden anymore! I want my mom and dad!” He covered his face and sobbed. Mishal wrapped his arms around him.

He murmured to him and rubbed his back until he calmed down. “We’re going to help you, okay? Clyde and Milton are the best at what they do. Come on, don’t cry.” Mishal wiped his eyes and gave him a tilted smile. “There we go. Feel better?”

“Mhmm…”

“Good boy. Now, let’s see what Dr. Pender can do to figure out how to help you.”

“I’ll have to ask you a few questions. But first, drink this vial.” Dr. Pender passed down the little vial he had been mixing. It was full of a silver liquid, with a slight rosy tint to it. Aster hesitated, but then drank it. It was bitter and sour, and he made a face. “Now, please have a seat on the couch. Professor, Mr. Raleigh, sit over by the door. Don’t interrupt.”

They all took their seats. The sofa was much more comfortable than it looked. Aster sat cross-legged on it. Dr. Pender dragged his chair around to the front of his desk and sat on it backward. Leaning against the back, he stared directly at Aster.

Nervous, Aster looked back at Mishal. He received a smile in return.

Dr. Pender began speaking. “Forget your worries, and focus on this campus, on this building, on this room. Listen to the sound of my voice, and focus on what I am saying. Block out the sounds and anxieties of the outside word, block out the distractions around you, inside you. Bring to the surface who you really are, who is controlling the body of Aiden Raleigh. Who am I speaking to?”

The doctor’s voice made him feel dazed, working in harmony with whatever spell he’d swallowed. He blinked heavily, and felt compelled to answer, “Aster.”

“Aster. Why have you possessed the body of Aiden Raleigh? What is your purpose?”

“I don’t know. It wasn’t my choice.”

“What are your goals, in this body?”

“I don’t know. I want to go home.”

“Where is home, Aster?”

“Boston. My mom’s apartment.”

“Is Aiden in your body?”

“I don’t know.”

“Is Aiden in his body? Are you suppressing him?”

“I don’t know.”

“Can you set him free?”

He looked at his hands. Human skin, trimmed nails. “I’m scared to. I don’t know what will happen to me if I do. What if I disappear? I’ll never see my mom and dad again. I’ll never meet my baby brother.”

“How old are you?”

“Three hours older than Aiden, exactly. We were both born at five a.m..”

“Aster, what is your full name? If we know who you are, that will make it easier to find your body.”

He hesitated. Dr. Pender repeated his question. “Aster Wittenberg.”

“The demon!” Clyde jumped to his feet, clenching his fists at his side. “Get out of my son!”

“I’m not Wittenberg! I’m Aster! I’m his son.”

“Who are you in relation to Professor Raleigh, Aster?”

His arms went limp on his lap, and he tilted his head, eyes wide. “I’m his nephew. His brother’s son.”

“Nephew… Sawyer did this?”

“I don’t know,” Aster mumbled. “I can’t remember. I can’t remember past Friday morning at eleven. I woke up at noon.”

Dr. Pender had Clyde sit back down, and told him quietly but firmly that if he couldn’t sit still and be quiet, he had to leave the room. What he was doing was delicate, he told him. If something went wrong, there was no telling what could happen to Aiden or Aster. He could very well lose both his son and nephew.

He took his place back on his chair and brought out a stopwatch. Dangling it on a string, he began again, “Aster, we are going to go back to eleven a.m., the day you woke up in the body of your cousin. Focus on the swinging of this watch. Focus on the sound of my voice. Let it lull you into a state of relaxation so you can remember. What is the last thing you remember?”

“I… I’m at home. I’m on the living room floor painting a picture of my father. I’m hungry, so I get up and go to find my mom.”

“Where is your mother?”

“He’s in his workroom. He’s working on a spell. I’m not supposed to bother him, but I’m not supposed to use the stove by myself, and I want to eat something warm. I’m cold. I start walking towards the room. When I get there, I reach for the doorknob. I don’t know what happened after that.”

“What spell is he working on?”

“I don’t know. We bought weird ingredients a few days before. He tried to keep them hidden from me. I couldn’t tell what they were, but I didn’t like them. They made me nervous. He was making me nervous, smiling really weird.”

“And your father?”

“I don’t think it has anything to do with him. He hasn’t been around for almost a month. Mom doesn’t talk about him, but I know he’s worried because Dad promised he would be there for him when the baby’s being born. He’s scared of Dad.”

“And you?”

“I should be. He’s a bad person. But I’m like him. I’m not human. He makes Mom upset, so I don’t like him.”

“Take a deep breath and imagine standing in front of your mother’s door. Reach for the doorknob and turn it. Open the door. What do you see?”

“I see… Mom. He’s…” It hurt to try and remember. It was like he was being blocked out. “He’s working on the spell. There are all sorts of stuff everywhere. It looks horrible. He’s cutting open something. It’s some kind of animal. His arms are covered in black and red.”

“Good. What happens next?”

“The door creaks, and- no!” He jerked backward. “Ah!”

“Aster?”

He clawed at his chest, feeling the same burning pain he’d felt when his mother had spun around and fired a blast of natural magic at him. It’d sunk into his chest, making his skin boil, and he’d screamed a silent scream. His vision had blurred, and then… “Mom, please, it hurts, it hurts… It hurts, Mommy, please…”

“Aster, you are not there. Whatever pain you are feeling is no longer real. Tell me what happened.”

He could remember his mother rushing to his side and falling to his knees next to him, apologizing as he tried to heal him, soothing him even as his voice shook and his eyes filled with tears. He remembered the hour his mother had spent trying everything he could to fix him, to ease the pain, all the while begging his father to come and help him.

“What is the last thing you remember, Aster?”

Finally, his mother had begun to cry, holding him close and apologizing, telling him how much he loved him, what a good boy he was. He promised to save him, no matter what it took. Then, his mother had begun reciting a spell, and everything had faded before he finished.

“Aster. What is the last thing that happened to you?”

“My mom… he… he killed me.”

[puckmatthews]

Goodbye - (a.m. imagine)

A/N: This is my first ever imagine/writing outside the classroom experience so pls be nice lol. All jokes aside pls let me know what you think and if you want a part 2 or not whatever you like. ps: I just started watching hockey so yeah. I kinda made up the whole game scenerio so yes idk

word count: 1,751

warning: cheating, heartbreak, couple swear words?

part 2

You were never a really big fan of crowds or being the center of attention. Just the way it was and would continue to be. You worked on it of course, took speech in college and had plenty of practice speaking in front of the class. It helped a bit when speaking with crowds but that didn’t change the fact that crowds still scared you. Everyday civilians like yourself weren’t accustomed to being followed and then pushed around and asked a hundred different questions a second. You should’ve known this would happened yet you were foolish enough to hope a mob wasn’t already waiting for your arrival. Auston really had done a number on this.

“Is it true?” “What can you say about the matter?” “Are you taking him back?” “Do you have any comments” “Are the pictures real or are you also going with them being Photoshop?” To say you were overwhelmed was the understatement of the century. Gosh, you really wish you were a more controversial person and didn’t freak over sticking up for yourself. Now you weren’t sure if you wanted to cry from the rumors you knew were about to be confirmed or over the vultures trying to pry answers from you. Halfway through trying, keyword trying, to reach the front door you felt an arm grab you. You were about to push them off when you noticed it was Mitch. You had never been more grateful and soon enough were been pulled through the crowd. The comments kept on coming and you just wanted to scream. Luckily Mitch wasn’t taking any of their noisy questions. “No comment. Now please leave her alone.” Once you stepped into the lobby you let out a deep breath. Your heart felt like it was about to shatter and you knew you were on the verge on tears. You refused to let them fall and much less for him. You knew he wasn’t worth it but god did it hurt. It hurt so damn much. It was getting hard to breath and just the thought that a couple floors above you there he was, probably without a care in the world, was making you contemplate running back out and taking a chance with the vultures. “Breath, it’s okay.” Mitch said grabbing your shoulders and looking into your eyes. You nodded and attempted to get some air into you lungs. Gosh, you hated this. The feeling of hopelessness. You hated this feeling. Your body shaking but there’s nothing to do but face it head on. That’s what your speech professor said anyway. Big girl panties, put on your big girl panties. You can do this, totally, no problem. You chanted to yourself. Looking up at Mitch you nodded ready to face the end. You hoped it was false. That somehow those pictures of your boyfriend in a heavy make out session that looked like it was leading somewhere else soon were Photoshop. Or it even a look-a-like but it was too damn hard to believe that. You really hoped that the past year you had spent with the most amazing guy wasn’t about to be shatter and come to an end. “Thanks for saving my ass out there by the way. I felt like I was going to go insane.” You whispered to Mitch as you ascended towards the 6th floor towards Auston’s room. “No worries. Sorry I couldn’t be there sooner.” He replied. “It’s okay. I’m not your responsibility. You didn’t have to but I appreciate it. Everything you’ve done. I couldn’t have asked for a better friend.” “Y/n-” “Don’t. Please don’t, Mitchy.” The bell rung signaling the arrival and the doors opened. Stepping into the hallway felt like you were carrying an extra twenty pounds on each foot. Mitch led you towards the end of the hall and the second to last door on the left. He knocked twice before opening it. You saw Auston stand from the couch as you followed Mitch in. You sucked in a breath. Even with stubble and his hair disheveled with wrinkles all over his shirt he couldn’t look more attractive. This was bad. You were supposed to hate him. You needed to hate him. “Hey” you said. You couldn’t help the small smile that covered your face. “Babe..” Auston walked towards you. “Thank you so much for coming.” You nodded and walked around him sitting on the couch across from where he was sitting just seconds before. “We should talk.” “I’ll be on the other room if you guys need anything.” Mitch said as he walked out the room. You needed answers. The same shrivel of hope you had left needed it. For your own well-being. “Are they real?” You asked. Auston ran his hands through his hair and then down his face. “It’s not like that.” “Just answer the question Aus. Please.” “Yes.” That word. That dumb three letter word destroyed you. “But it wasn’t that simple y/n, please.” You tried to hide in your sob but failed. And soon Auston rushed to you. “It was a mistake she meant nothing. I swear to you that it was nothing. You’re it, babe.” Shaking your head at his response you took a second to adsorb it all. “When?” “Y/n, we don’t have to do this.” He was looking at you with those eyes. Those beautiful brown eyes that you adored so much. Letting out a sigh, he replied, “Couple weeks ago. Maybe a month or so ago. I don’t know.” Doing some mental math you thought back to a month ago. “You had a playoff game that month. You ended up losing. I remember. You were so sad and angry, kept telling me that it was your fault that you lost. We didn’t talk long that night, you said you were going to have a couple drinks with the boys.” Grabbing drinks with the guys after games with the guys wasn’t unusual for Auston. You often felt bad that you couldn’t be there cheering him on due to you living in another country but that game you had felt terrible. You knew how badly the team wanted that win. You had even requested a couple days off from work and had saved any extra money in order to buy a ticket. Sadly life had other plans and you were unable to make it. That didn’t stop you from watching it from the comfort of you living room. When the buzzer sounded and the Leafs had only scored 2 to the Jet’s 3 goals you were heartbroken. You could’ve only imagined how Auston felt. “I was so angry for myself and I wanted to feel something else. Anything to get rid of the anger inside. The guys didn’t get it. They were sad yeah but I could have scored that last goal. We could have gone to overtime if I hadn’t missed that shot. We could have had a chance.” Auston continued on looking away from you and towards the other end of the room. “She was there and I had a couple drinks. I’m not trying to make excuses but you wouldn’t understand the pressure i’m constantly under. And I missed you and you weren’t here and I … i’m sorry” You were astounded. Your sadness soon faded to anger. “How dare you blame me? You think it’s easy for me? You think I enjoyed living miles away from you? Knowing thousands of girls want to fuck you? How much prettier they are? How they have more in common with you that I do? I have pressure as well Auston! I may not have thousands of fans watching me play hockey but I am well damn struggling. I work WEEKS to make what you probably make in an hour. I have to study my ass off in order to get my degree and better myself. So don’t you EVER make me seem LIKE I AM GUILTY FOR A DECISION YOU MADE! For throwing what we had away like it meant nothing!” You couldn’t help yourself. You were livid. Getting up from your place in the couch you began pacing. “Is make-out all you did?” “No.” “Oh my god.” You didn’t know if you could have felt any worse until that moment. You felt sick and rushed to restroom. Closing the door behind you, you knelt over the toilet but nothing came out. Getting up you face the reflection in front of you. You were a mess and you didn’t want anything more than for this to be a dream. You obviously weren’t waking up anytime soon so tears were the second best thing. But what you were not doing here was crying. Auston didn’t deserve to see the tears he caused. Back in the living area Auston was sitting with his head down. He knew how fucked this was. Hearing you step out he looked up, eyes red. “I am so sorry.” He apologized. “I never wanted to hurt you but it’s so hard. I get so frustrated baby.” “No one said it was easy.” You needed to get out. “You hurt me and what hurts the most is that you KNEW how much of a big deal cheating is in my life. I told you how it nearly broke my family apart and the fact that you didn’t feel the need to tell me about it. That I needed to see pictures from gossip magazines to get you to text me that “hey maybe we need to talk?” What the fuck was that Auston?? Maybe we could have worked it out if you had told me sooner. That you regretted it. Maybe I wouldn’t have but now we’ll never know will we? The fact that you didn’t….The person I trusted most wasn’t the one to warn me. To even give me a heads up. That you wouldn’t have mentioned it..The fact you did it in the first place.“ You shook your head again. The tears fast approaching as your anger faded. “Goodbye, Aus.” Mitch walked out, having heard your discussion, ready to walk you outside. “You need a ride as well?” “Yes, please. I would really appreciate it Mitch.” “Y/n..” Auston whispered. You couldn’t it bare to hear him, much less look at him. Keeping your back to him you took a breath and walked out.

Up in room 216 on the 6th floor, a call was made. “Hello? Everything okay Auston? Shouldn’t you be asleep?” “Mom, I messed up.” “Oh, honey”

[maluraunderchild]

We always come back

Okay, I love my brother. If it wasn’t for Darsa I wouldn’t know how to pick a lock or steal anything to survive. He was literally my first teacher. With out him, my mom would have been alone while i was gone. Dar is, he’s family. Like it or not, he’s my brother.

So when I found out he got a summons to see Lochlyn, then refused any contact with me. Ya know, we don’t do that. Him and I have a saying. We don’t leave, we get left. And if someone comes back after leaving, they’re your truest family. I came back. His Da came back. My Ma came back. We’re family. I’m not going to let him slip out of my hands.

Now, I didn’t go diving into the sands of time... at least not at first. First I got my self to pester his advisors and his Dad. After glaring at everyone for ten minutes Bravard finally caved and told me Darsa was pretending to be someone else and had just gotten himself out of prison. 

I’m a damn good tracker. Robaj has been honing my skills and it takes me no time to let the sands of time was me to a small room in the middle of old town. This wasn’t one of the super nice rooms, but it was sure nicer than I thought Dar would get while slumming. Seeing him asleep on a cot I coughed a bit.

Darsa is not a heavy sleeper. He never was. It comes from living on the streets and not having a safe place to rest his head. His silver eyes catch the light. At first I think he was angry, furious actually. Then... I think I shocked him. “Shadow?”

“You’ve been avoiding my calls.” I said crossing my arms. “It’s been almost a month Dar. What. The. Fuck?”

He looks around at the frozen area. “How the hell did you fine me.”

“Remember, chronomancer?” I said squatting next to him. “This is what I did after Arrel died.”

Okay, that was a bad thing for me to say. I can see that as soon as the last word left my mouth. His face grew hard and I can see that small vein that pops out when he’s angry. “Well some of us don't move on so fast.”

“You...” Oh no. 

I’m suddenly stopped by what he said. “She didn’t.”

“Told me she died last year. That I needed to move on.” He said glaring at me. “I waited a year, trying everything I could, and it failed. How the fuck do I move on from that?”

I get on my knees and lean into him for a hug. He’s slow to accept it, but I think that’s his drowsiness. “Dar.” I muttered as I feel him wrap his long arms around me. “I am so sorry... I.. I. Shit.”

For a moment he’s just there face pressed into my shoulder. I wonder if he’s breathing, then he took in a shaky breath. “i’m alive. I’m not... offing myself like I would have last year. I got you, Malthe, Da, everyone up north.”

“Then why the fuck are you here?” I asked pulling away to look at him. His eyes are red from the tears welling up. Gods I knew if they broke apart this would be bad. I had hoped they wouldn’t break... 

He takes in a small breath and in an angry motion rubs his eyes. With the evidence of his tears gone he only had his rage... Darsa was always good with rage. I saw it when I was in his gang. When someone got hurt, he would go after the person who did the hurting. I wasn’t allowed to join in those days. But the respect he got... I can guess what he did. 

“I’m... going undercover to stop a gang in Duskwood. There’s this, employee of mine. She’s been hounded by them. They tried to pay me off to let her go. I... I’m going to war with them.” He said looking up at me. “Like we used to go to war with the other street gangs. Just this time i have Stonebrill.”

That.. “That doesn’t make sense Dar. Why are you doing it? Why not send Gregor out to do it, or someone else. You’re grieving.”

“Maybe this is how I greave? Yeah?” He said harshly as he glared up at me. “Some of us don’t get to have a funeral for their loved ones. Someone us had to watch, wait, pray to a Light that doesn’t hear you or care. Then we still lose. I let you mourn last year. Let me mourn.”

Oh... fuck. I move in again and hug him tighter. He’s doing the same exact thing I did. “You, you blame yourself don’t you. That you couldn’t saye her? That’s why you’re saving your employee? Dar, oh gods Dar I get it. I do. That’s why I’m a time walker now... Please.” I pull him away enough to look at his face. He looks like shit. Tired, angry at everything around him. “Please Dar. Can I please give you some hope.”

He shrugged. “You can try.”

“It got better for me.” I said honestly taking his hands in mine. “It got a lot better. I started breathing after a month. The first month is hell. You’re in a wash of not knowing which way is up. But you’re making some choices, like I did. It’s going to get better. You’ll find a new way forward. A new way to smile. It’s not going to happen right now. But one day. You’ll smile.”

His hand gripped mine as he looked to be on the verge of tears again. “Did she? Did she love me Shadow? I can’t... I try to remember but I’m so scared I imagined everything.”

Darsa is different than me. When he loves, he does it in a way that throws his whole being into it. I think it comes from being an orphan and not knowing if people will stay. Still, he doesn’t believe people love him as much as he does them.

“Yes, gods she loved you so much. She did. She asked me all about you when you first met. She held onto you so tightly... Never, ever forget that.” I said my heart feeling the same wound he had. The memory of the wound.

He nodded a little bit, a tear finally spilling down. “I won’t forget... I just don’t know how to move on from her. Ya know?”

“You don’t... not at first.” I said thinking about my own heart ache of last year, and now how I’m different. “I’m over a year and a half since Arrel died. If I take into account all the time I’ve been outside of time, if that makes sense.”

Darsa is a smart man and with my vague description he just nodded. “I understand sis. How are you fairing now?”

Do I tell him the truth. Sitting down now fully beside him I shrugged. “I’m a lot better. A lot wiser too. Arrel was a great man, but, he taught me a lot about myself. In a way, he helped me figure out what I really wanted out of life. Out of someone I want to love.”

“And what did you figure out?” He asked now looking curious.

It takes me a bit to admit this. But It’s Darsa. He already knows most of this. “I figured out I need a man who can save himself. So I don’t have to play nanny all the time. I want to care about someone, just... I’ll take explaining social interactions over cross country tracking.”

Oh yeah, the look he gave me. I’m oddly on point with my descriptions. “Okay, who is he?”

“Not now Dar, it’s not even happening yet. Chronomancy stuff. Okay?” I said deflecting the hell out of that question. No need to mention Met right now. Dar knows about Met, he was there during the dinner with Teren. 

He nodded looking around the room. “I just got released today.”

“Why the Stocks?” I asked coming back to the original conversation. 

“Cause no one is going to expect a noble would degrade himself enough to be thrown in the Stocks.” He said bitterly. “The gang I’m going against. They know my new name. They know Lord Darsa Carrington, Earl of Stonebrill. No one is going to remember Bravard Noman, drug dealer and alchemist. I’m breaking into the gang, find out their weak points... I got an idea, but I need confirmation before asking you to help.”

He was glancing over at me, with a slight plead. How do I ever say no to my brother? It’s rare. I’ll stand in the line of fire for him. Right now, he needs someone standing beside him. “Okay, what is it?”

“I might need you to play hard to get against a void user.” He said quietly, though he really didn’t need to be quiet. “he likes women who are... unbreakable, mentally. He’ll go into a person’s head and muck around in there.”

Oh fuck that, that could be so dangerous. “Dar, that’s harder than you think. Anthion did that to me over and over again.”

“And now? Now you know how to defend yourself. You can use it as a test. Show him all the crazy shit you’ve seen.” He said with a small smile. “You’ll blow his mind and get him off of Kat.”

“Kat?” I asked not being sure who the name was connected to.

“The lady I’m helping.”

“The employee?” I stopped blinking. Yeah, he’s using this whole gang thing to find closure that he couldn’t get with Lochlyn. I get it... It sucks, but I get it. “I see... Well, give me more details, and actually fucking pick up when I call.”

“It’s not going to be so easy.” He said rubbing his eyes. “I need to be undercover. I can’t carry around a communicator.”

“Then I’ll fucking writer and you burn the letters before you send one back, okay?” I said nudging him hard this time. “You don’t get to go silent on me. Okay?”

He looked around the room throwing a hand out. “Like I can fucking stop you.” He said scoffing at me. “I’ll make sure I write back, and burn the letters...” Pausing Darsa looked down at me, his eyes hurt. “I miss us being around each other.”

“Fuck, I do too...” I slipped my arms around him to give him another hug. “Make sure you eat.”

“When I can afford it.” He quipped. “I’m pretending to be me before Loch. I need to be the me before Loch.”

With one last squeeze I let him go and got up. “Fine... But I’m going to worry about you. And if you suddenly find food next to you, eat it, I left it for you.”

Since landing in this room I didn’t see too many warm smiles form him. But this time, he does smile, and it’s warm... Like how he would smile when he knew someone cared about him. “You are the best sister a man could have, ya know that?”

“I better be. I have competition now. Malthe is not taking the title. She can be the cutest. But I was here first.” I said pointing a finger at him in mock warning. I don’t have a vendetta on the munchkin. Honestly I’m glad Darsa’s Dad has someone to take care of.

He nodded and settled back down. “So, what do we do here.”

“Lay back down and I’ll be gone.” I said with a smirk. Magic is a weird thing like that. Chronomancy is even weirder. As he lays down I don’t even take a moment longer than I have to. I pull him to of my time lock and slide myself back to my current place and time. I’m honestly worried about him, but at least he knows he’s always got someone wanting to help him. I mean, that’s what we do after all. We might leave, but we always come back.

((Mentions: @darsacarrington, @kat-lockhart))

[supersoldierslover]

Two Nights Stand Epilogue

Summary: (Modern Au) After a bad breakup, your roommate insists that you need to a one night stand to end your dry spell. Following her advice, you have a bad one night stand with Bucky Barnes, but what happened when you are forced to spend time with him?

Paring: Bucky x Reader

Words: 3886

Warnings: This is vaguely inspired by a movie of the same name. GUYS SO MUHC FLUFFY

Catch up with Two Night Stands here

Three months after that night

“How do I look?’ You ask your boyfriend. You are wearing a baby pink dress with matching heels. “You look amazing, sweetheart. The bride will be jealous of your beauty.” He says, smiling sweetly at you. You give him a peck on the lips and sit on his lap.

“You are cheesy, Barnes. Peggy is going to look incredible, Steve is one lucky man.” He laughs, hugging you by the waist “He is but not as much as me.” You roll your eyes at him, fixing his tie “If you say so, James… I am not going to argue with you.”

“I’m going to miss you during the ceremony.” He says, kissing your shoulder. You are going to miss him too. You don’t know anyone at the wedding with the exception of him and the happy couple.

You smile at him, hiding your face in his neck. Bucky was Steve’s best man and as much as you and Peggy get along, you two aren’t close enough for you to be one of her bridesmaids. “I know baby, but it’s only during the ceremony. And I bet that the maid of honor is going to be beautiful and funny, maybe I should even be jealous of her.” You say playfully, the last part making him smile

“You obviously don’t know Sharon; she is nice, but she isn’t you.” You leave his lap, holding his hand “Come on, baby. We have a wedding to attend, a lot of drinks to drink and we need to find a place in the venue to have filthy sex.”

“Filthy sex?” He asks in a much better mood than before. Boys sometimes are so easy to manipulate. “Every wedding someone has to have filthy sex; it’s kinda like, a law.”

You always loved weddings; they are always filled with romance, flowers and good food. What’s not to love? But by far your favorite part is to watch how the groom’s face lights up when the bride walks down the aisle.

You love to see the love in their eyes; you wonder if someone one day will look at you like this, with so much love and devotion. You hope so; you don’t want a wedding as big and as fancy as this one, but you do want the love and the promises.

The ceremony is beautiful, but you can’t help but stare at the Bucky as the minister speaks. All this talk about love, commitment and being there for the other person makes you realize that you are in love with him.

Different from any other relationship you’ve been in, the thought of, loving him doesn’t scare you. You are excited to tell him, and you don’t mind if it is too soon into your relationship to tell him how you feel.

“Do you want to dance?” He asks, taking you away from your thoughts. You look at the happy couple, having their first dance. “Of course, I love this song.” He takes your hands in his, leading you to the dance floor.

He rests his hands on your waist, as you rest yours on his shoulders. “I can’t believe they got married, I’ve know them since forever… I feel old.” He says spinning around. You smile and start to look at his brown hair. “You are right, I am starting to see a few grey hairs on you.” You say playful, making him groan. “Don’t say that.”

“You still look beautiful, Mr. Barnes, better yet, very handsome and very manly.” He rolls his eyes at you and then kisses your forehead. “You are a precious dork, you know that?” He asks as another song starts. Your heart is filled with love as he says these words; you’ve never had a boyfriend like this, so affectionate and one that made you feel this way.

“You’re the dorky one, Barnes.” You two keep dancing, exchanging compliments and telling jokes to each other until you fall into a comfortable silence. Three songs later, Bucky takes a deep breath and says, “Natasha is here.”

You look around, searching for the redhead but you don’t find her anywhere. “What is she doing here?”. You can’t deny it; you feel curious about the woman, but you would never go and talk to her, especially because of the way he is looking right now; full of guilt.

“Peggy invited her, you know because  they… I mean, us were invited to Natasha’s wedding. Steve told me before the ceremony started. I can’t believe that they invited her.” You nod, you can’t believe it either. They caused so much pain to each other; they should talk about what happened but never in such a public place.

“Are you going to talk to her?” You ask resting your head on his shoulder. You want him to, maybe it could help with all these feelings he has inside. “I don’t know, you think I should?”. You shrug; yes you do, but you are not going to pressure him into it. “It is up to you Bucky, whatever you decide, I am going to be by your side.”

“Thank you.” You two continue dancing until you feel tired and dehydrated. You go to the bar and ask for a bottle of water and your favorite cocktail. You feel relieved when you sit on a couch; your feet were killing you. Your shoes were so cute, but they are the worst.

You feel someone sit by your side. “Your shoes are killing you too?” You nod to the woman without paying attention to her. “Yes, how can these things be so pretty and still so deadly?”. She laughs. When you look at her face you notice that you are talking to Natasha.

You stare at her,  not knowing what say. Does she know who you are?  Probably, why else would she sit by your side? She smiles at you, “You are James’ new girlfriend, right?” You nod again; she is gorgeous. What does she want from you?

“Yes, and you are his ex.” You say, feeling things getting awkward. You should have just nodded and gotten away from this. You definitely don’t want to be in the middle of this, whatever this is. “Yes, well… you must hate me… he must hate me… sorry, this was a bad idea.”

You feel bad for her; you don’t know what she thinks, but you know she looks defeated. “ I don’t hate you, I mean, I don’t even know you. I heard some things, but Bucky never told me anything that made me hate you…” Great, now you are babbling, you think, resting your head on your hand.

“Thanks. Do you think I could talk to him… he is avoiding me like the plague. I swear, I just want to see if he is okay.” It is not up to you to decide this; if Bucky wanted to talk her, he would have already done it but at the same time, you think this could be good to him.

“What do you want to talk to him about?” You ask. You trust her; she looks sincere and not like someone who wants to start a fight in the middle of a wedding. “I don’t know, I mean, I think I want to talk about what happened… you know? I put all the blame on him when it wasn’t anybody’s fault… these things happen. I left him all alone, I blamed him… I made people take sides… I was awful. I was hurt and I wanted to hurt him too, but I never thought that he was already in pain… I think I want to say I am sorry?”

You listen as she speak; you understand her side and you never blamed her, but she blames herself like Bucky. Not as much as him, however, enough to make her come to this wedding and invite him to hers.

“I don’t want to get in the middle of this, but he is talking with Steve …. If you want to talk to him, you know where he is.” You watch as she leaves, smiling at you. A few minutes pass when curiosity gets the best of you and you follow her.

You watch as she speaks with Bucky. You can’t see her face, but his expression says everything to you. He is uncomfortable and on the verge of tears. You smile at him from afar, trying to give him some comfort, but he doesn’t see you.

The only thing you can do is watch as they talk and hope for the best. You don’t know how much time has passed, but eventually, he hugs her and kisses her cheek. She wipes a few tears from her face and goes to a man that you imagine is her husband.

He walks in your direction with a genuine smile on his face. “Did you have anything to do with this?”, He asks and you shrug. You are so curious about how things went. “Maybe?”  He smiles, kissing your forehead. “Thank you, sweetheart, you are the best… I love you.” You can’t help but smile at the words.

“I love you too, Jaime.” “I love you too, Jaime.”

Seven months after that night

“Bucky baby, are you home?” You ask, entering your boyfriend’s apartment. A couple months ago, he had given you a key in case of an emergency. You usually never came unannounced, but today, that was not the case.

You had a horrible day at work; your boss was being an ass to you all day and you had so much paperwork to do. You needed a nice, relaxing bath, with candles and your favorite bath bomb. And you would have done this in the comfort of your own home if you haven’t forgotten the lush bag in here.

Not that you minded; your boyfriend had the biggest bathtub that you ever saw.

Slowly, you start to prepare your bath, lighting the candles and putting on your special playlist for days like this. You get in the bathtub, letting the warm water relax your sore muscles; all you are missing right now is your boyfriend and glass of wine.

“Aren’t you the cutest burglar that the world has ever seen?” Bucky says, scaring you. You were so immersed in the bubbles and the song that was playing that you didn't even notice the front door or the bathroom door being opened.

“I think you’re the burglar, or did you think that I  wouldn’t notice that a couple of my bath bombs are missing?” Instead of answering, he gets on his knees outside of the bathtub and pulls you in for a kiss. “I Am I forgiven?” He asks between kisses.

“Only if you join me, but no funny business… remember the last time we tried to have sex in this bathtub?”. You warn him; he nods, taking his clothes off as fast as he can before entering in the tub with you.

He sits on the opposite side of you and starts to massage your feet. “Be careful, I might fall in love with you if you keep doing this.” You say playfully, making him smile. “I thought you already are. You hurt me, sweetheart.” He answers in the same tone as you.

“I’m sure you’re going to live. So how was your day? I hope it was better than mine.” You say, feeling his fingers caressing your leg. “Pretty boring. I am working on that new project with Tony and he is driving me insane. I don’t have any idea why I accepted that promotion… But enough about me, do you want to talk about your crappy day?

“Not really, and you accepted that promotion because you care about your work and you’re really good at.” After that, you two fall into a comfortable silence. He pulls you closer, washing your hair and kissing your neck. You don’t have any idea how long you two spent silence, exchanging soft touches.

“I was thinking about getting a new roommate.” He says, taking you away from your thoughts. Steve and Peggy moved out 3 months ago and you have to admit that you liked that he lives alone.

For the first three months of your relationship, things were awkward. You and Bucky were in that honeymoon phase where you two couldn’t keep your hands off each other, and Steve and Peggy were so in love in their pre-wedding phase that you couldn't count how many times you two walked in on each other.

“Are you sure?” You ask, you don’t want him to find a roommate, but you don’t have any idea how paying for this place by himself. “Yes, even with Tony’s promotion… I have a lot of bills to pay.”

You nod; you can’t argue with that. “Well, choose wisely, darling.” You say, kissing his lips. You hope he chooses someone nice. “Of course I will. I already made a list of what I want in a roommate; do you want to hear?” You nod again, making him smile.

“Well, this person has to be funny, have good taste in movies and like my cooking…” He smiles at you, holding your hand before he continues to speak. “She also has to be great at cuddling, make the best apple pie that I’ve ever eaten and she has to have a sparkle in her eye”

He continues to describe his perfect roommate, with your hair color, your eyes, and all your little manias. You can’t stop smiling every time he says something that he loves about you. “So what do you say, do you want to move in with me sweetheart?”

You nod. “Of course, you dork.” You smile at him, kissing his neck. “Now do you want to get out of this tub and go to bed?”

One year and a half after that night

 “Are you sure?” You ask your boyfriend as he unties your bikini and kisses your shoulder. “Are you afraid, princess?” He asks playfully. You look around; there is no one on this beach right now but you are not sure that skinny dipping in the middle of the day was the best idea he has ever had.

“I don’t think this is a good idea, I mean, it is the middle of the day. What if somebody sees us? Or… We go to jail for indecency? I am too pretty to go to jail, Bucky.” You say, crossing your arms over your breasts. When Bucky suggested that you two spent a week on the beach to relax you were excited; now you are just worried that some stranger will see your boobs.

“Relax, there’s no one here and if someone shows up, I’ll cover you with my body. My awesome, toned,  naked body.” He says, taking off his shorts. He is totally naked in front of you, and you can’t help but lick your lips; he is gorgeous.

“So what’s it going to be?” You don’t answer him, instead, you let go of your breast and run towards the water, still wearing the bottoms of your bikini. He runs after you, holding you by the waist and spinning you around.

 “You cheated.” He says, making you roll your eyes. “I am very naked right now and you wouldn’t be able to see down there anyway.” You say kissing him, he moans into your mouth, picking you up in his arms.

 He keeps kissing you and playing with your hair until he drops you into the water “You’re an asshole, Barnes.”  You say fixing your hair and coughing up the water that you swallowed. You’re not going to admit to him you found it funny that he dropped you in the water, however, the smile on your lips gives you away.

“Come on, you loved it and you found it funny” He says hugging you and kissing your neck. “You are so lucky that I love you, Jaime.” He laughs, holding you by the waist. “Yeah, I am pretty lucky.”

 You two stay in the water until you start to get cold and wrinkly. On land, you two change into comfortable clothes and sit on the sand, watching the sunset. The sky was the perfect mix of red and blue and the sun was so orange; it was beautiful.

 You rest your head on his shoulder. You are so happy that you two decide to come here. You look up; Bucky is so distracted that you can’t help but wonder what’s  on his mind. “What’s happening in that pretty little head of yours?” You ask, tracing your fingers in his bicep.

 “Marry me.” Your heart stops;  you must have heard it wrong. “What?” You need to heart it again, you need to be sure. “Marry me? I don’t have the ring with me right now, I mean, I have it on my nightstand… I was waiting for the perfect moment, but then I don’t know, I just needed it do it. It doesn’t get much better than this, right?”

 You nod; he is right, today is a perfect day. “Bucky, are you serious?” He turns around, catching your face in his hands. You’ve never as seen as much love in his eyes as you do right now. “I want to be with you forever.  You don’t have any idea how happy you make me, so what you say?”

 “Yes! There is nothing in the world that I would like more.”

 Four years after that night                                      

 You wake up scared, not because you had a nightmare or because you heard some strange noise; actually, the reason that you’re scared is because your apartment is too quiet. You look at the clock; it’s almost 3 am and you  can’t find your husband anywhere.

 Slowly, you walk into your daughter's room.  You need to know that she is okay. When you open the door, your heart melts. You see your husband painting your daughter’s nails, looking so concentrated. “Daddy, I don’t like this color.”

 You rest your head on the door of her room. They don’t have any idea that you’re there. “But it’s blue Lily, your favorite color. And this is the same color that your mother’s nails are.” The two-year-old girl giggles in excitement. “So pretty, I want glitter…glitter is so pretty.”

 “Anything you want, princess” He says, kissing her forehead and getting the glitter. You can’t contain yourself; you knock on the door letting  them know that you are there before speaking. “What are my two favorite people in the whole world doing up this late?” You ask, sitting on the floor, by your daughter’s side.

 “Monsters mommy, there was an evil clown in my room.” Lilly says, getting in your lap, hiding her face in your neck. It was incredible, like she was the perfect mix of the two of you; she looks just like you, but she has her father’s blue eyes and brown hair.

 “I told you that you shouldn’t let her watch IT, honey. I’m afraid of that clown and I’m an adult.” You say, caressing your daughter’s forehead. Poor little girl, she must be terrified. “She wanted to see the clown, you know that I can’t say no to her.”

 You laugh. Of course he can’t; Lily has him wrapped around her little finger. She has too much power for her own good. “Let me see if daddy did a good job with your nails.” Lily gives you her hand; you’re impressed with how good of a job your husband did. Maybe you should start to ask for him to do your nails.

 “It looks great, darling… I think you are in the wrong profession.” You say the last part to your husband. He laughs, getting up from the floor, taking Lily from your arms. “How about we go to bed, sweetie? Are you feeling any better?”

 Bucky asks your daughter; she shakes her head no, resting her head on his shoulder. “No, I don’t wanna sleep; I wanna stay up with you and mommy.” Any other day you would argue and tell her to go to bed, but tomorrow is Saturday and nobody has to wake up early anyway.

 “How about, daddy makes some pancakes for us while you and I watch some cartoons?” She nods, looking excited but not as much as your husband. “Are you sure that you want to give her sugar this time in the morning?”

 You shrug. “Yeah, she will be fine just don’t put any Nutella on it.” He nods kissing you. “If she gets out of control, can we send her to Steve’s?” He asks playful. “Of course I’m sure he is not going to mind taking care of our fourth child for a while.” You say sarcastic, but he only nods and laughs.

 In the living room, you put Aladdin on, one of your favorite Disney movies. You hope that the genie takes her mind off of the scary clown. 15 minutes into the movie, Lily is sleeping peacefully on your lap. “Is she asleep?” Bucky asks, entering the room with a plate full of pancakes with Nutella, and strawberries.

 “Yes, she must be exhausted, poor thing.” You say, taking a bite of the pancakes. You swear that this is the best thing you’ve ever eaten in your life, but every time Bucky cooks something you think it’s the best thing you’ve ever eaten.

 You can’t believe this is your life; you are married to this lovely and amazing guy that you love with all your heart. You have an amazing little girl that surprises you every day. You have a life that you never imagined you could have.

 You remember how scared you were when you found out that you were pregnant.  You didn’t know if you could be a good mom or even if you wanted to be a mom. You also were afraid of Bucky’s reaction; you didn’t have any idea how he was going to react, especially after everything that happened with Natasha and the baby.

 However, he surprised you. When you told him that you were pregnant, he was so happy. He dropped to his knees, hugged you by the waist and peppered kisses on your stomach, repeating over and over again “I’m going to be a dad.”

 Bucky was very protective of you during the pregnancy, not letting you carry anything heavy and not letting you do anything basically.  Not that you minded, you know how scared he was about losing this baby and if washing a few dishes would help him, who were you to complain?

 “What’s going on in this pretty little head of yours?” Bucky asks, taking you away from your thoughts. You look at him, kissing his cheek. “I love you, Jaime.” He smiles at you, and then at Lily, who was still sleeping on your lap. “I love you too, so much honey... both of you.”

 He kisses you, being careful for not to wake up the toddler in your lap. When he pulls away, he stares at your eyes, putting a string of your hair behind your ear. “Sweetheart, Lily is almost 3, and she is growing up so fast… and… what I am trying to say is that I want another baby.”

NOW THE SERIES IS OFICCILY OVER, I HOPE YOU GUYS LIKED THIS ONE AS MUCH AS I DID AND THAT YOU ENJOY ALL THE CUTENESS. PLEASE LEAVE FEEDBACK AND I WILL LOVE YOU FOREVER.

[goldendream-s]

decisions (pt. 3)

"There is no decision that we can make that doesn't come with some sort of balance or sacrifice.”

PART ONE || PART TWO

MASTERLIST || REQUEST

You didn’t understand what it was like to feel lonely until now. Sure, you had your boyfriend Charlie, not to mention the three friends who were like older brothers to you, but your life was missing something. Or rather, someone. Maybe that was the worst part of it all. You had people constantly around you, but you still felt isolated.

It wasn’t easy forgiving Shawn, but you understood that everyone has their reasons for their decisions. Even if he does or doesn’t regret choosing his girlfriend over you, the good in you told you the first step of moving on was to forgive. Having lost track of how long it’s been since you’ve talked to Shawn, you just needed closure. You wanted answers, but you weren’t sure if you wanted to see him again.

You and Shawn might’ve been in some hot water, but that didn’t stop your friends from insisting on another movie night to ease everyone from the obvious issues going on between you and Shawn lately.

“You promise you didn’t invite him?” you asked Geoff, who was currently sitting across from you on the couch of his apartment. He knew you were obviously referring to Shawn and was quick to reassure you.

“I swear I didn’t, but don’t you think that things would be so much better if the two of you just talked things out?”

“Hmm, let me think for a second,” you perched your hands under your chin as if you were actually considering Geoff’s question.

“Last time I checked, the most recent time Shawn and I tried to talk, he ran out of the room,” you bitterly stated, shaking out the memories from the night of Charlie’s album release party. You couldn’t help but still be slightly upset over the whole situation despite your efforts to get over the whole catastrophe.

Before Geoff could say anything else, you already moved from your seat off of the grey suede couch and headed for the stairs. “I’m gonna go upstairs and change into something more comfortable. Let me know when Brian and Matt get here,” You called over your shoulder before climbing up the stairs.

As you rounded into the restroom to change, you pulled out the hoodie that you stuffed in your bag earlier before heading to Geoff’s. Your hand stopped mid-motion as you realized the hoodie you had chosen, scolding yourself when it became very apparent you had brought Shawn’s olive green crossfit hoodie. He had let you barrow it with the chilly fall weather approaching, and you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t your favorite hoodie to wear. Debating for a few seconds before deciding to put it on, you made a mental note to return the hoodie to Shawn soon.

Just as you had tied up your hair in a messy bun a few minutes later, you heard voices at the door meaning Matt or Brian must’ve arrived.

Pulling on your fuzzy socks, you walked down the stairs to see who was at the door, but when you saw a particular six-foot-guitar-playing boy named Shawn, an uneasy feeling rose to your stomach.

What was he doing here?

Deciding to stay at the top of the stairs, you crossed your fingers that he’d be leaving soon.

“Please, just let me talk to her!” you heard your bestfriend exclaim to Geoff.

“Dude I’m not sure if that’s a good idea. She seemed pretty upset after the last time you tried to talk to her.” Geoff tried to defend.

“Please, I just need to see her face agai-” but before Shawn could finish his sentence, you interrupted him and Geoff’s conversation from the top of the stairs.

“It’s okay Geoff, is it okay if I talk to Shawn?”

“Are you sure? Uh, I mean, yeah, go ahead,” Geoff answered confusedly as he let Shawn in.

You headed back upstairs gesturing for Shawn to follow as you found a quiet place for the two of you to talk. Taking a deep breath, you played in your mind all of the times you’d imagine this conversation to go.

“So that’s where my hoodie went,” Shawn chuckled as you turned around to face him. 

A pink blush rose to your face, but you were quick to explain yourself. “U-Uh yeah, sorry about that. I can give it back to you,” you insisted as you tugged at the hoodie’s bottom.

“No,” Shawn’s voice raised, startling you. “No, you can keep it. It looks better on you than it ever did on me,” he smiled while scratching the back of his head.

Nodding, you reminded yourself why the two of you were here in the first place.

“I’m just going to make this short and sweet for the both of us, Shawn. Why?” Bitterness and anger soon overcame you, and it was pretty obvious that you were still holding a slight grudge.

“Plea-” Shawn tried to calm you down, but you weren’t having any of it.

“Just stop, Shawn. Just tell me the truth.” you bluntly stated, letting Shawn know that you were tired of running in circles.

Soon enough, Shawn’s hand and body was covering the window you were peering through, forcing you to turn your gaze to him.

He took a deep breath before he explained.

“I like you, okay? There, I said it!” Shawn was on the verge of yelling. Shock didn’t even explain the way your bestfriend’s confession made you felt, and suddenly the hoodie and fuzzy socks you were wearing didn’t make you feel as warm anymore. You opened your mouth to compensate for the silence, but Shawn stopped you.

“Actually, I think I love you. I don’t even think you know how long I’ve felt this way. I don’t think you know how hard it is to be with you every day without telling you. And every time I thought you felt the same, just in the slightest degree, you just friend zone me again!” Shawn stopped for a second to breath, allowing your muddled mind to soak in all of his words. “I just couldn’t tell you this after I found out you and Charlie were a thing. I’d hate myself more than I already do if I ruined that relationship too.” His voice lowered to a whisper, regret lacing each of Shawn’s words.

You were slowly but surely soaking in his words, stunned to say the least.

“I thought getting a girlfriend would help me get over it. I thought if I cut you out, I wouldn’t be in love with my bestfriend anymore. It obviously didn’t work, because here I am again, coming back to you,” Shawn rambled. 

You could hear his heart beating through his chest, and in that moment, you could only hug him. You might’ve been mad, but you missed him more than anything. He instantly hugged back, bringing your face into his chest to hear his furious heart beats. 

Your dry throat didn’t let you utter out any words. Shawn, your bestfriend, just confessed his feelings for you, but you knew you couldn’t tell him the same back. Shawn was right: you never saw him as anything but a friend, and you couldn't help but pity him.

“Please, I know I fucked up, but give me a chance, fuck-  just say something, anything,” Shawn begged.

“I-I,” you tried to start. Seconds passed, and you still couldn’t form a coherent sentence.

“Fuck, I’m sorry for dumping all of this shit and my problems on you. Uh, just forget I said anything,” he quickly searched for your eye contact.

Clutching your bestfriend’s shoulder’s, you tried to shake him out of his worries. “Shawn, calm down. I forgive you. I’m still here, and I’m not going to leave you because of this. I’ll always be there for you. People make mistakes, and I get it.” you soothed his worries, your eyes begging for him to calm down.

“Oh my gosh, thank you so much,” you were wrapped in another strong hug by Shawn.

You smiled knowing that you had your bestfriend back, and suddenly, your grudge and anger against him slipped away as the seconds passed. You weren’t sure where your sudden change in attitude towards Shawn came from, but you weren’t upset that you were forgiving him so easily. Inhaling his scent, the two of you stood in each other’s embrace, making up for all of the lost time since the blowout. Time seemed to stop all at once, but the moment was soon cut off when he pulled away.

“So, everything’s good now, right?” Shawn asked, still not sure if you had completely forgiven him.

“I mean, things might not be the same as before, but yea...” Your answer wavered into the open air.

Sensing another awkward moment approaching, you instantly tried to cut through the growing tension.

“Hey, let’s get out of here. We’re having a movie night with Brian and Matt if you’re down. We have a lot of catching up to do, y’know? It’s hard to keep up with a rock star these days,” you tried joking, Shawn laughing at your effort of lightening the situation.

“I think I’m gonna stay in here for a little while. I just need to clear my mind,” Shawn moved his stare from you to his feet.

Nodding, you understood why he’d need time alone. He just poured out his emotions and feelings for you, but you both knew that your heart was with someone else.

There was another moment of pure silence before the next sentence was spoken.

“You know that I’ll always be at your side right? Like if things don’t work out between you and Charlie, I’ll be here waiting.” Shawn nervously scratched the back of his head again. “I’d wait until I die if I have to,” you heard him murmur.

You knew without a doubt that you weren’t supposed to hear the last part, but you nodded your head in comprehension nonetheless.

Giving Shawn another hug to reassure his doubts, you made your way to the door.

“One more thing,” you heard Shawn clear his throat right before your hand touched the cold metal doorknob.

“Yes?” you confusedly answered.

Shawn paused for a moment as you took a step away from the door and closer to him.

“A-Are you happy?” he stuttered. You could see the tears surfacing to his brown eyes and the sight itself almost brought you to tears as well.

You raised your eyebrows before he elaborated.

“Y’know, with him?” Shawn timidly yet anxiously asked, referring to Charlie.

It took you a split second to think how you wanted to answer this question, but you knew there was no way around it. There was no point in lying, and so you used the only word you knew how to describe how happy you were.

“Extremely,” you replied barely above a whisper,  leaving Shawn alone in the same room you just broke his heart in.