#Also no you aren’t going crazy the flower in the top left corner is one of the ibis x paint decals on that one picture icon thingy erremmm | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

make-me-imagine · 3 years

Text

Violets: Loyalty and Devotion

Valentines Special: Day Six

Day One: Morning Glories Day Two: Blue Salvias Day Three: Sunflowers Day Four: Pink Camellias Day Five: Yellow Tulips - Day Seven: Lisianthus

Plot: The reader keeps receiving flowers and sweet messages every day from an anonymous source leading up to Valentines Day. But who is sending them?

Choose your own character ending (coming on Valentines Day).

Gender!Neutral Reader x ???

Triggers: None Words: 1,535

Marvel Taglist: @aquariuslavenderhoney, @thebookbakery, @groovyfluxie Requested Taglist: @spuffyfan394, @gaitwae, @fablesrose, @kitkatd7, @thefallenbibliophilequote, @beksib, @destynelseclipsa, @criminaly-supernatural, @tammythompson-singslikea-muppet, @belloangelus, @snarky--starky, @saintbootlegloras, @wecallhimbrowneyess, @empath-bunny, @okkulta, @katinthemoon, @wecallhimbrowneyess, @ravennight41, @youcancallme-rae , @radhumandragonclam, @unfortunateidiotinadilemma, @past3l-w1ngs , @okkulta , @anonymous-pls-dont-click (just daily), @username23345, @hulkswitch, @theofficialzivadavid, @lainphotography, @fred-deeks-ben,

February 11th

It was early-morning as you were lying in your bed, still comfortable under the covers. You had stayed up till late at night with the others as you discussed Tony’s Valentines party. Tony was hiring some party planners and caterers today to set everything up.

You were also bombarded with questions about your secret admirer. And everyone was questioning whether it was one of them, but of course no one spoke up or admitted it. If it was one of them, they played it off very well.

As you were lying there, you were flicking through the notes you had received over the last five days. You had read over them countless times now, the words embedded in your mind.

You tried to match the language of the words with the people you knew. The most obvious would be Loki and Vision. They both had a way with their words that came off as poetic. But then again, maybe the way the notes were written were purposefully written in such a way as to throw you off.

Reading over the note that had been attached to the Sunflowers, your eyes read over one part again and again “I adore your grace, and elegance, your compassion, kindness and bravery. There is no way I could not absolutely adore every fiber of your being.”

This part made your heart swell. ‘every fiber of your being’, the good and the bad. You smiled at the words as you continued to flick through them. You felt like a bashful teenager reading through texts from their crush.

You began thinking about Tony’s party. You wondered if Valentines Day was what all of these notes and flowers were leading up to. It seemed to be that way, and you hoped it was. Though, you were very nervous about it. What if everyone except you secretly knew who it was? God you hoped it wasn’t going to be a public admission. You cringed at the thought.

After glancing at the clock you figured you had been lying in bed for long enough. Getting up, you took a quick shower and got changed before leaving your room. You weren’t headed anywhere in particular, you had no work you had to do today, so you were free to relax, but you got bored sitting in your room all day. Maybe you’d go for a walk?

Rounding a corner, you see Bucky, Steve and Sam coming from another hall. Upon seeing you they all smiled and greeted you.

“Hey” you replied as you approached them “What are you guys up too?”

“We’re about to go train a bit, wanna join?” Steve suggested.

“I would but I have been demanded that I not do anything strenuous today because of what happened yesterday.”

“Sounds like a good idea, just in case.” Bucky commented, while smiling fondly at you. “How are you feeling anyway?”

“I feel fine. I’m think I’m gonna go for a walk.”

“A short one” Sam said, as he pointed at you.

You nodded and laughed “Yes, just a short, non-strenuous walk. See you guys later” you said as you parted ways.

As you began walking towards the exit of the building, you were stopped when a man at the front desk called out to you “Agent L/N!”

“Hey Gene” you greeted as you walked over to him.

“This letter was left here for you” he said handing you a small pale blue envelope, a sticker with your name printed on the front.

“Oh, thank you. Uh, who was it left by?”

“I’m sorry I didn’t see, I was talking to someone else and when I turned back around, there is was.”

“Oh, hmm, thanks Gene” you said as you walked away from the desk and opened the letter. You immediately recognized the font of the letter and your heart began to beat rapidly.

~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ Y/n,

I was so glad to see that you were alright after what happened yesterday. I was so afraid that you were more badly injured. Especially as I sat next to you in your hospital bed, and you seemed so faded. I hope you liked the flowers I left for you again.

Also, I am sorry for what curiosity and confusion all of this might be causing you. But I must admit, I also hope that you are getting some form of enjoyment or excitement from it as well. I’m sure you must be wondering, when will I finally show myself? And maybe you have already guessed that it will be on Valentines Day. I think it quite suiting, and hopefully romantic.

So, please wait patiently for only a few more days, and then all will be revealed.

But until then, you still have 3 days before then, including today. I’m not sure when you will receive this letter, but you should have another present waiting for you at your door, perhaps you already received it. I hope you like it.

Until the party. ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~

You smiled at the letter as you finished reading it. Looking around the lobby, you tried to see if anyone seemed to be watching you. But seeing no one paying attention to you at all, and knowing you had yet to receive your next gift, you decided to go on your walk.

On your walk, you could not get the thought of what the flowers you will receive will be. The ones you’ve gotten so far have been so beautiful. You should press them, save them somewhere. Maybe a flower from each.

Unable to stop thinking about it, you turned back mid way through your walk to head back. You wonder when they always know when to deliver the flowers...

Making your way back into the tower and up to your room, you held an energy of nervous excitement. As the elevator door opened at your floor, you partially expected to catch them there, at your door. But, you were not really surprised when the door slid open and all you saw was a small plant at the base of your door.

It was small, and as you approached it, you could recognize what it was. A small potted violet plant, with blooming flowers sprouting from the top. You smiled as you picked it up, admiring it.

“Cute” you muttered with a smile as you unlocked and entered your apartment as you plucked out the note from the pot.

~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ Violets.

Violets hold the meaning of Loyalty and Devotion. Both are traits you have and both are traits I admire about you. But besides this, these are both promises. Promises of how I feel towards you. And they are exactly what you deserve. You are loyal to a fault, and you deserve someone to be loyal to you for as long as you live. You are devoted, to saving people, to helping people, to making people happy. And you deserve someone to be just as devoted to you.

I hope that I can give these to you. I have been loyal to you since before I remember having feelings for you. Because you are the type of person people trust wholeheartedly, as I do. And I promise, no matter what, to be devoted to your happiness. ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~

You sat on the edge of your bed as you read the powerful words. “Do I deserve this person?” you wondered out loud. They seem so....well, devoted. You often caught yourself wondering what exactly you deserved out of love, and you have only been hopeful that you would find someone who could make you feel so important and loved. This could be that person.

Sure, you still had your hopes of who this person could be. One person in particular. But, you seemed to find yourself falling for this anonymous person anyway, even not knowing who they are. And to a part of you, it did not matter.

Was that crazy? Falling for someone when you don’t know who they are? I mean, apparently you did know them, so it wasn’t as crazy as falling for a complete stranger.

Falling back onto your bed, you stared up at the ceiling. “Only a few more days” you said out loud. Would they show themselves before Tony’s party, during? After? How would you react?

You only found yourself asking more and more questions throughout the day. Debating whether or not you wanted to talk to someone about it, you decided against it though. What if you ended up telling everything you felt and feared to them on accident. At this point, it could be any of them.

So, you kept it all to yourself. Any time you saw one of the others, they would ask you whether of not you had received another gift, or a note. You would tell them yes, but not go into detail. The notes were too personal, you couldn’t just share them with anyone. They were meant for you. And you would keep them stored away for yourself. Hoping that some day soon you could really talk about them with the one who wrote them for you.

xx xx xx xx xx

I hope you are enjoying these so far.

I know they aren’t great, since there is no real Character x Reader stuff in it, but I hope you are enjoying the build up and are excited for the endings.

342 notes · View notes

1plus1kiyoomi · 4 years

Text

Chapter 6: I’m Willing

[prev] [next]

[masterlist] [kia’s slambook]

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

“Keikei! Ko-chan stole my dwink!” Kia tells Akaashi. Bokuto sticks his tongue out at Kia and the former setter glares at him. He pouts and gives the yogurt drink back to Kia.

“You got me this time...” Bokuto huffs, pretending to be upset. He continues to play with Kia while Akaashi helps you with the dishes.

Sakusa is standing at the hallway, staring at his living room in horror. He regrets telling Hinata and Bokuto that their friends are coming over. He should have known that those airheads would no doubt join. Worse, they tagged Atsumu along with them, because why not? The more the merrier, right? Inviting Kenma and Akaashi was out of courtesy, but his teammates are here out of boredom.

All he wanted was a peaceful dinner with you and the two quiet former setters. But his teammates really said no. “My house...” Sakusa pouts, looking at the mess that has been made in the kitchen. He sees you washing the dishes with Akaashi, relief washing over him for a moment.

“Go on. Help her,” Kenma suddenly speaks beside him. Sakusa’s hand clutches on his chest as the curly haired boy is shocked. “Just go before they finish.”

So he does. He goes to you. Akaashi leaves you as he sees Sakusa approaching. You don’t even notice that it is already him beside you and not your cousin. When you do realize though...

It’s awkward.

Very awkward.

The tension between the two of you is undeniably suffocating. The other five boys in the room, staring at the two of you scandalously, aren’t helping at all. You make eye contact with Kenma and he smiles at you teasingly. You glare at him and chuckles silently.

“What are you looking at?” Kia, confused, asks the five boys. She also looks at you and Kiyoomi but she doesn’t see anything interesting. The two of you are just washing dishes. “Let’s play!”

“What do you wanna play?” Akaashi asks her and the little girl scans her eyes through the room. The volleyball on the shelf catches her eye so she points at it. “Volleyball?”

“Yeah! Let’s play volleyball!” Hinata cheers and takes the ball from the shelf. Sakusa sighs and tells them that their is a net at the backyard. The five boys go outside with, leaving you and Kia behind.

“You should join them. There aren’t much dishes left anyways,” you tell him but he continues to wash the dishes with you. You keep quiet and do the dishes fast. You place the last plate on the rack and dry your hands.

“It’s time for Kia to wash,” he says, looking at the wall clock. You know of his crazy memory so you aren’t surprised that he remembers. He goes out to the backyard so you follow behind him, unfamiliar with the house. You note to yourself to have a tour when he’s not around.

You arrive at the backyard and there is a volleyball net in the middle. Of course, there is. On the right is a small green house and on your right, there are flowers? When did Kiyoomi get into flowers?

“Mama!” Kia runs to you, sweaty and panting. Her cheeks are flushed red and her bangs are sticking to her forever. “Can I play for a longer time?”

“5 more minutes,” you tell her and she screams in joy.

“Join us, Kyo! I wanna see you jump!” She runs around Kiyoomi excitedly before grabbing his hand and leading him to the little court. “Keikei! Kenken! Kyo can jump really high, too!”

“Of course he does! He was one of the top players of Japan when we were in high school!” Hinata brags all knowingly.

“How about Mu-chan?” Kia points at Atsumu, not paying attention to what Hinata said. Sakusa bites his inner cheek, stopping himself from hitting the blonde setter.

“He was the best setter in high school!” Bokuto does a thumbs up and Akaashi gives him a look of betrayal. “You were good, too, Akaashi!”

“Bokuto-san... after all we’ve been through,” Akaashi dramatically says, reenacting Bokuto’s emo mode.

“Looks very familiar,” Kenma chuckles. Hinata laughs along with him.

They continue to play, tossing and passing only since Kia is there. You sit at the bench where they placed their phones, wallets, and watches. Steal it and run girl. You watch them play and remember high school. You used to watch them in the bleachers, and they were wearing different jerseys back then. They’re all different people from they were in high school, but something with them playing volleyball just sparks a little happiness in you. Maybe familiarity doesn’t change.

Your eyes land on Sakusa and your heart beats faster. This is like high school all over again. You used to watch him and Komori play like this in their backyard. Who would have thought he’d have more friends he’d be comfortable playing casually with? Maybe some things changed for the better.

“Sakusa looks stunning, doesn’t he?” You don’t notice Atsumu sitting beside you. You clear your throat, not giving him a response. He chuckles, “I honestly thought Sakusa was the type not to fall in love and die old alone. But seeing you in person, I think I understand why he didn’t end up like that.”

“Thank you?” you respond unsure.

“So what was Sakusa like as a boyfriend?” He asks. You raise an eyebrow at him and he just shrugs.

“You’re asking like you’re the obsessed and jealous new girlfriend,” you rebutted.

“I might be.” You laugh at his response and look down to you feet.

You wonder about his question and all you can do is smile. “He was the perfect boyfriend. Not the one with the best social and communication skills, but he was the best for me.” Atsumu smiles due to your response.

Maybe love doesn’t change.

At the corner of Sakusa’s eyes, he can see you and Atsumu talking and laughing together. Kenma notices this so nudges Akaashi. “Do something or (y/n) might become single for the rest of her life.”

“Hey, Kenma and I bought beer before coming here. Do you wanna drink?” Akaashi asks Sakusa. The spiker can only nod, unable to say no to Kenma and Akaashi. He has developed great respect towards them for being there with you all the way. They’re good friends to you, he sees them as friends, too.

You hear Akaashi’s words so you call Kia, “Kia! Time to wash!” The toddler comes running to you. The two of you enter the house, directing to the room you decided to share with your daughter.

The boys settle at the lanai, calming down from playing. Kenma takes the cans of beers out of his trunk and brings it to them. He distributes the cans and sits on the floor like the other guys. Akaashi and Kenma stare at Sakusa, getting ready to interrogate him.

“You still have feelings for her, don’t you?” Akaashi speaks first, and Atsumu whips his head to his direction. He didn’t think Akaashi would be the blunt type of person.

“I do,” Sakusa responds nonchalantly. The rooms becomes awkward again. Even the noisy Bokuto, Hinata and Atsumu couldn’t do anything. The other three’s silence is too loud. Luckily, you and Kia arrive.

“I’m going to sleep now!” Kia announces, running to Akaashi first. She gives him a kiss on the cheek, then goes to Kenma after. She kisses his cheek, too. Bokuto asks for one too, but Kia shakes her head. Bokuto pouts and she gives in. She kisses his cheek and goes to Hinata next. He greets Atsumu good night, kissing him like the other boys.

Kia stops in front of Kiyoomi. She reaches her hand for his cheeks and he lowers his head so she can. She places a kiss on his forehead before running back to you. You smile at the sight, your heart melting at how cute they look.

“He wants a kiss from you, too,” Kenma tells you and you roll his eyes at him. Kia runs back to you, waving good night to them. When you are out of sight, they continue to drink in silence. Finally, Sakusa speaks again.

“I may not have been there from the start, and have been an asshole halfway, but I’m actually willing to try. I’m willing to be Kia’s dad if it means having (y/n) back.”

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

Facts:

Akaashi went with you to Osaka because he had to remind Bokuto about his tax.

Kenma was just bored so he went with you.

It was Hinata who invited Atsumu

Sakusa was not supposed to let them in but he couldn’t act rude around Kenma and Akaashi. He’s afraid that they’ll see him in a bad way.

Sakusa only let Atsumu in because he brought Osamu’s onigiri.

[prev] [next]

Note: thank you for all the support! i love seeing all your replies. i just couldn’t figure out how to reply back huhuhuhu hopefully, i get to understand tumblr better soon hahahaha

Taglist: @elianetsantana aoi-turtle ptv-hades aquzairus a-applepi justoneofthefangirls arianna-r13 morenabambinii chaelysian loser-keiji mxngy ne-kuroo n1fangirlsblog d-efend missalicebaskerville marvelousbakugou agaashesmilktea bonkyandloki kimi09 gyumimir

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smau #haikyuu series #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu sakusa #sakusa kiyoomi #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #sakusa x reader #sakusa smau #haikyuu scenarios #sakusa scenarios #sakusa imagines

785 notes · View notes

icequeenbae · 3 years

Text

Desert Flower (m) Ch. 2 | BBH

Pairing: Baekhyun x Reader x Baëkhyun

Characters: EXO and X-EXO (not all of them mentioned)

EXO vs X-EXO dynamics, complicated relationships, angsty, action, smut (as usual)

Warnings: sorta mingling with your ex’s ‘evil twin’, mentions of blood/ violence (nothing too graphic… I suppose), Y/N gets teary a lot(?), explicit content, rough sex, unprotected sex

Word Count: ~13.5k (full), ~3.4k (Chapter 2)

Summary: Baekhyun, your beloved boyfriend of three years, suddenly breaks up with you and disappears from the city in an attempt to protect you. But leaving you alone and clueless means trouble will surely find you. For it is easy to spot a flower in the desert.

Masterlist >> One >> Two (m) >> Three (m) >> Four (fin)

Author’s Note: This chapter is going to be a little different! There’s angst, there’s drama, there’s smut... You will find out what I meant by ‘complicated relationships’ 🤭 Don’t forget to share your thoughts^^

Tags: @blahblahblah-boo @baeklightsx @wooya1224 @baekklove

Chapter 2. Get him back

The day he left you it was pouring, and in your mind, it rained ever since. Hours turned into days, days turned into weeks, and weeks flew by. You did everything on autopilot, without thinking or differentiating between tasks. Everything around you was a grey mess, and you couldn’t maintain a single thought in your head, not one thought that didn’t have something to do with the breakup.

Was it even that? He just left, telling you that it was ‘for your own good’. Asking for no opinions. Frankly, you were angry with him. You would've been furious, but it was hard to tap into your irritation when it hurt so much in your chest. For the first time in your life, you realized that you were gone too far. So far, that you felt like a piece of you was missing now. The one you’d possibly never get back.

You also realized that you belonged fully to that friend circle as well — there wasn’t even anyone for you to talk to anymore, or wallow with, which made your sorry ass feel even more pathetic. Your entire world revolved around your protective boyfriend of three years, and now that he was gone it felt as unsafe as ever. Who knows, maybe it was your sixth sense alerting you as to what was to come.

It happened over a month after your last encounter with Baekhyun.

You were lounging in the campus library, mostly because your weeks of heartbreak caused you to miss a few deadlines, so now you had to take additional assignments to do well at the finals. Having no inspiration, or better yet, no one to hurry to, made you stay there for long hours, barely managing to get one task completed at a time.

The space was almost empty since it was rather late, and looking around you suddenly felt a tinge of nostalgia. Muttering that you should get ahold of your stupid self, you walked slowly towards the tall aisle with your useless book. In the labyrinth, you wandered for a bit, reminiscing of the first interaction with your… now ex? Your first boyfriend? Your first love?

The thought left a bitter taste in your mouth, and you opted for walking further as if surrounded by books you could somehow block your bubbling feelings out.

A strange sound caught your attention.

No idea why, you kept walking towards it, soon stepping around the corner and freezing on the spot.

Only a few feet away there was a couple making out. The girl was pressed harshly into the shelves and grunted, as her partner shoved one hand underneath her shirt to squeeze her breast, and his other one grasped her neck, adding to the obscenity of their misplaced passion. You were ready to flush tomato red and vanish on the spot when you noticed something… familiar.

That side profile.

You would never mistake it for anyone else’s.

Wide-eyed in shock, you almost jumped when the male turned around, dark irises foreign to you. His eyebrow raised slightly as he took in your distress with half-lidded eyes, not even bothering to stop groping the girl.

‘B- Baekhyun?’ You said in such a tiny voice that you barely even heard yourself.

The sound of your book dropping to the floor ripped you out of the stupor, and you turned around. Out of the labyrinth you ran, not even bothering to put your belongings back into your bag neatly. You simply grabbed everything from the table and kept running. The surroundings were blurry, but you could see one thing clearly – his lustful eyes, mocking your naivety.

It hurt too much. Unable to hold your tears till you make it home, you found yourself locked in the stall of the nearest bathroom. The way you cried there was almost physically painful, and you struggled to catch enough air as you did. Nor did you care enough to prevent yourself from making noises. Your whole body was shaking with your sobs, and you weren’t entirely sure you hadn’t gone crazy just then. From seeing what you saw. From reopening the still-hurting wounds and seasoning them richly with salt.

However long it took you to dehydrate yourself with the seeping sorrow, you managed to stop, hiccupping only every now and then. Finally shoving your laptop and notes into your bag, you got out of the stall. Walking up to a mirror on wobbly legs, you gasped at your puffy face and red swollen eyes. Not that you really cared, but it was quite late, so you had good chances of sneaking out and getting home unnoticed.

Unless someone would be purposefully waiting for you to show your face, of course.

You took notice of the dark figure across the hall momentarily after exiting the bathroom. Turning the other way, you increased the pace of your steps, almost breaking into running speed to put some distance between the two of you.

‘Hey,’ a voice called from behind, and you felt a hand grabbing your upper arm to stop you.

The nerve he had.

‘Don’t fucking touch me!’ You barked at him, ripping away from his grasp fiercely.

He blinked, letting go, and you almost hiccupped again at the sight of his hair – even more silvery-white now than when he left you, slightly unkempt (from the prior activities, no less). As he opened his mouth to say something, you beat him to it.

‘Don’t talk to me. Don’t even look at me. You make me sick!’ You spat, wanting to both claw at his beautifully sculpted face and to snivel pathetically again. Instead, you turned around and took off before he gathered himself enough to try initiating a conversation again.

Because… What the fuck was he thinking?

***

You fell ill. It probably wasn’t unrelated to what happened at the library, but you became so feverish that your roommate was on the verge of driving you to the hospital. Three days later your fever finally broke, however, you felt weak and drained and depressed for another week afterwards.

Staying at home, you kept rewinding back to the ‘event’. How could he? Coming back like that, and not even having the decency to not screw around right under your nose. You were repulsed by what you saw, and it was almost hateful how the heaviness in your chest only worsened. The bitterness of the situation added to it – he lied to you, just to be with someone else weeks, or, perhaps, even days, hours after. Maybe all of it was a lie, you didn’t know anymore.

This Baekhyun… You didn’t think you’d ever known him.

The subsequent week you avoided all of the crowded areas of the campus, dreading that you’d have to face him again. It would be impossible to maintain your calm in that case, so you took all of the possible precautions. But what could you have done if he was looking for you?

Upon your following encounter, you failed your attempt to vanish out of his sight the way you did before. It was essentially you walking into a trap, as you headed home rather late after finally squeezing your last important assignment out on paper. Not giving the outside world a single moment of attention, you stopped at the top of the stairs to put your phone into your bag and zip it up.

‘Aren’t you a mystery woman, Y/N,’ the voice almost made you drop your stuff.

You glanced up, taking notice of the murky figure, leaning onto a nearby tree. As he began walking in your direction, you turned on your heels and took off. It felt stupid to run from him like this, but you absolutely did not want to break down in front of him. You wanted to preserve at least some dignity.

As you flew down the stairs, you stumbled and almost dove headfirst to the ground. Thankfully, a swift limb wrapped around you before you could do that.

‘Are you dumb?’ He exclaimed into your ear.

‘Let go of me!’ You writhed in his hold, trying to free your body from the illusive familiarity of his touch.

‘You’re a danger to yourself! What the fuck,’ he swore under his breath, releasing you at once.

‘I told you to leave me alone. Do whatever you want, just stay out of my freaking life, Baekhyun!’ You yelled in his face, fuming from his shameless behavior. Why was he acting like nothing was even wrong with this?

‘Unbelievable. Your twin screws someone over, and you’re the one held accountable,’ he rolled his eyes.

Twin… what?

‘What are you talking about?’ You asked in bewilderment.

‘I believe, introductions are in order. I’m Baëkhyun, nice to meet you.’

***

That was… embarrassing. So embarrassing.

You had no idea there was, well, a live copy of Baekhyun walking around. And even though your ex-boyfriend was secretive, you couldn’t believe he left something like this out. Were you an actual joke to him?!

Baëkhyun said they weren’t particularly close. He explained to you that he hadn’t seen his twin in years, and his friends helped him obtain the little knowledge of his whereabouts that led him here. Thinking he could find Baekhyun by asking around he… got ‘involved’ with a girl or two. Or a dozen, who knows? But, apparently, your reaction the first time you’d met piqued his curiosity. When you flushed at the memory, apologizing profusely, he only said that he found it odd and strangely cute, the way you got upset with him.

‘I’m not as great of a guy as Baekhyun,’ he shrugged. ‘Not that I’m trying to be, anyways.’

You frowned.

After the way he left you, Baekhyun was not at the top of your ‘greatest people of all times’ list either. You could understand why your new acquaintance mentioned this, you had witnessed enough to gather that he was not at all well-behaved. Also, his ways of extracting information… Not very professional, to say the least. But who were you to judge? Now that you’d learned that he wasn’t your ex, you were genuinely ashamed of the hysteria of the past couple of weeks.

But Baëkhyun was different.

When he got your number and promised to text, you didn’t think much of it. You hummed and rolled your eyes – as if that was going to happen. Yet he surprised you by sending a quick message the following week. And then… you just kept talking. Which went on for a while, whilst you’d grown slightly addicted to it. Somehow, Baëkhyun became the only person who could take your mind off of his twin. So, even when you finally went on the long-awaited summer break, you stayed in touch with him. And not only via text – you’d been seeing each other on a regular basis.

Randomly at first – you’d just bump into him somewhere around the university premises, and he’d then suggest grabbing coffee. But as it progressed, you ended up inviting him over for dinner. Partially because you felt acutely lonely with your roommate gone, and partially because… you missed him. It was hard to put a finger on it – you’d initially thought that it was just misplaced longing for Baekhyun that pushed you towards his twin, and it felt so wrong. Almost like you wanted to use him to soothe the ache in your heart that had been bothering you ever since your ex-boyfriend had left.

Yet Baëkhyun seemed so magnetic. He hypnotized you with his blue eyes, which changed from the icy light color to dark, almost black, and were just as sharp as his twin’s. And his sassy smirk – the one he had plastered across his face almost always. Baëkhyun wasn’t warm like Baekhyun, yet there was still something about him that had you walking willingly into his trap. Maybe it was the mysterious glint in his eyes as he looked down at you or the way he sized you up whenever he caught a glimpse of you, like you were his prey. Being alone with him felt both dangerous and exciting, and you kept fooling yourself, basing your blind trust on nothing but his relation to your ex.

You never noticed how quickly he managed to build trust between you. And how you didn’t even know much about him, yet you did tell him a lot. Like that one time, he asked you where you thought Baekhyun was.

‘Wouldn’t I like to know,’ you chuckled, sadness in your voice. ‘He just left. I don’t think he even kept his phone.’

‘I always said he was the dumb one of the two. And to think that he’s the strategist,’ he snorted, splayed on your couch comfortably.

You looked at your hands in your lap, subconsciously calming yourself by playing with your fingers.

‘Stop,’ you shivered as his palm covered your fidgety hands. ‘Stop thinking about him.’

Eyes traveling to his face, you caught a glimpse of the frown that formed there.

And then he kissed you. Out of the blue, giving you no time to think or pull away.

And you let him. Grabbing at the soft leather of his pants, you allowed him to do as he pleased with you. Baëkhyun tasted familiar, though his kissing was anything but – rough and messy, lots of tongue and teeth, making your head spin with flaming passion. You didn’t resist when he pulled you into his lap, or when he ripped your clothes off, item by item. He was not asking and you were not thinking. It didn’t feel like something you should stop at the time. Rather, you thought you would’ve cried had he paused for longer than a second, so you kept clinging to him in response.

The demanding grip he had on your thighs only made you crave it more, lust seeping into your system as you wrapped your arms around his neck and rolled your hips into his. He emitted a deep sound, helping you grind on him.

‘Good girl,’ he gritted into your lips, landing a slap or two on your ass along the way.

As you kept going, your bare breasts grazed his skin, and your panties became soaked and sticky. You were probably flushed rosy red as you chased the tight feeling in your lower abdomen, his eyes hungrily taking in your frenzy. He slapped you again, a sharp hit resonating through you like electricity.

‘Baëk,’ you half-moaned. ‘Please fuck me-’

You couldn’t even believe that you were begging him like that, out loud. But the desperation grew as your body threw itself at him, demanding release.

He moved your panties out of the way, fingers instantly getting wet with your arousal.

‘Such a needy little slut,’ he murmured, making you shiver.

It was all new. The name-calling, the manhandling, the way he bit harshly into your lower lip and tugged at your hair. And somehow, it was exactly what you needed.

He didn’t waste much time to prep you, opting for taking his already hard length out and running the tip between your folds, making you jolt and cry out, nails digging into the back of his neck.

‘Sink on my cock and take what you want. Like a bad girl would.’ He addressed in a low voice, smearing the remainder of your lipstick over your mouth with his thumb. ‘Wanna be a whore for me?’

‘Yes,’ you muttered, and he smacked you on the ass again, emphasizing that you needed to be louder. ‘Yes!’

He let go of your hips, hands resting on your legs, allowing you to slam down on your own. You whimpered at the slight burn but kept going. Moving this fast wasn’t the way you were used to doing it, but all the more exciting for that. Using his shoulders to steady yourself, you worked your hips hard. A sheen of sweat on your chest glimmered as you increased the pace, wailing as his tip nudged at your cervix. He watched you with his dark blue eyes, hands kneading your ass, and filthy mouth guiding you.

‘Squeeze your tight little hole.’

Meanwhile, you struggled to maintain the tiresome pace, yet held onto the sensation of his girth pressing against your walls as he glided in and out of you.

‘Ah fuck, Baëkhyun!’ You moaned, feeling the tickle of perspiration making its way down your abs.

‘I know you’re close.’ He licked his lips seductively. ‘Want me to help?’

‘Yes, yes, please,’ you keened, leg almost cramping from the uncomfortable position.

‘Leave your begging for another time, baby. Like I said, if you want something, you should take it.’

You whined, head spinning at the suggestion. His eyes, expectant, traced the stubborn crease between your brows while you kept rocking your hips. Then, you did the first thing that came to your blurry mind. Your hands reached up to grasp his hair and pull hard, tilting his head back and leaving the long column of his neck exposed for the attack of your lips. Sucking a bruise on it harshly, you then used your teeth to ensure he’d have a bright mark in a few hours. Creeping up his neck and his jaw, you licked at his lower lip, and then into his mouth – like an animal would.

‘Oh,’ he smirked, hands seizing you and holding you down, with him snug inside you. ‘So, my good girl is not as innocent as she seemed?’ He teased, the lustful glint in his eyes boosting your confidence to the level of insolence.

‘Shut up,’ you replied firmly, sliding off of him and flopping backwards to finally get some circulation in your legs. ‘Stop slacking off and make me come, you asshole.’

His eyes flashed at your brazen words. Shoving you roughly until you were flat on your back, he grabbed onto your thighs, dragging you closer to him. Instantly you cried out as he landed two consecutive slaps on your pussy, holding his heavy hard-on at the base. Pleased with your reaction, he did it again, not saying another word before he bottomed out inside you. A new wave of arousal washed over you, and you clenched around him, eyes fluttering shut. He didn’t even think to spare you the morning soreness as he nailed you like an actual whore.

‘Ah right there, right there- oh fuck, Baëkhyun,’ you sobbed, clawing at his flexed arm, when he placed one of your legs over his shoulder and leaned forward, basically stretching you open for himself.

This position made you feel vulnerable, like you had no choice but to take everything he was giving you, but it was what you needed. His every thrust resonated inside, making your muscles clench, and ripping more curses and moans out of you. Even though his pace was rather brutal, there wasn’t too much pain along with it – Baëkhyun knew all the right spots.

Mouth agape, you arched your back in silent agony, and a few more hits of his thighs later came so hard that it almost made you pass out on the spot. The hand over your mouth muffled your scream, and he let your leg slide off of his shoulder, pressing his palm against it to keep you in place and prevent you from closing your knees.

Muscles contracting uncontrollably, you whimpered at his continued thrusts as you became too sensitive from the drawn-out pleasure, tears soaking your lashes by the time he finally pulled out.

Baëkhyun grunted lowly, and you opened your eyes to witness him jerk himself off at the sight of your swollen, fucked out pussy, not even blinking until thick ropes of his semen painted your lower belly.

Despite having just performed a thorough fucking, he lowered himself on his elbow slowly and brushed the rogue strands of hair away out of your eyes.

‘You’re a naughty one. I love it,’ he murmured, positioning one of his hands on your neck as he kissed you deeply. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll teach you how to be in control.’

And so, you let yourself fall down the rabbit hole. And there was no telling what you’d gotten yourself into.

>> Chapter 3

A/N: Whooo, Baёk is here, stirring some kind of trouble, isn’t he? 🤭 Our poor Y/N-ie is walking on thin ice. What do you think of their relationship? Feels a little bit like cheating, right? Technically it isn’t. But still, the darkness is always pretty seductive...

#baekhyun smut #byun baekhyun smut #baekhyun x reader #exowritersnet #baekhyun x you #icequeenbae fics #Desert Flower #exo smut #baekbaёk

105 notes · View notes

shotofire · 3 years

Text

Dream Catcher

•LEVI ACKERMAN x READER

•Overview: In which you own a stand to sell dream catchers, and Levi takes an interest in the concept

•Warning: Cursing, angst, mentions of sex, descriptive gore

•Season: Not specified

It had been going on for weeks now. Levi Ackerman would wake up pretty much every night covered in sweat and breathing so fast as if the air might run out. Nightmares were nothing new to him at this point. They came and went, but it had been a few years since they’d been this bad.

He wasn’t sure what had triggered the dreams. A mission hadn’t occurred in almost two months believe it or not. The reoccurring nightmares were always the same, down to the details. It started with him in a beautiful field filled with flowers, and the sun was warming his skin.

The peace in the beginning was always short lived, and soon he’d hear a terrified scream erupt behind him. The mood of the fresh air would change immediately, and everything around him had changed in the blink of an eye. Instead of a field filled with flowers it was a field scattered with dead bodies. It seemed to go on for miles, bodies covered in their own blood.

Scream after scream filled the air leaving no room for silence. He would watch as titans snatched up his friends and chewed their body parts like candy. He wanted to help them and he was skilled enough to do so, but his feet couldn’t move.

Everyone would be screaming his name and begging him for help. But the ground acted as if it were glue, keeping him in place as he watched everyone die. Every last person in the field would be ripped apart at ease, leaving him the last one alive. Tears would be streaming down his face as he saw the faces of everyone he cared about with fear struck expressions that would stare back at him.

The titans wouldn’t pay any mind to him. He’d be left alone with no one to care about, no one to love. Even though Levi would die before he admitted it, his greatest fear is to be alone. It’s not the fear of dying that leaves him paralyzed, why would he be scared of the inevitable? Being alone is avoidable and a more logical fear in his opinion.

Once a titan looked at him with a gut wrenching smile he’d sit up in his bed at full speed. His shirtless chest would be hot to the touch and sticky with sweat. There had been a few times he’d woken up with dried tears on his cheeks, or still in the middle of crying.

He pushed it aside at first thinking they’d just go away on their own and he’d be fine. None of his nightmares lasted more than a solid week because he’d find someway to get over them. But once it hit almost a month he was beginning to worry. His lack of sleep was catching up to him, and the bags under his eyes were prominent.

Hanji had bugged him about it for about a week now. She constantly pointed out his dark circles and how slow he was starting to move. The women went as far as to call him ‘an old man’ just so he may tell her what’s going on.

“You look older today,” she whispered in his ear, as he drank some coffee, causing him to jump in surprise.

Levi rolled his eyes once he knew who it was. She just never seemed to go a minute without saying something. He’s been in the dining hall for maybe an hour and she’d already insulted him five times.

“Maybe it’s because i’m getting older,” he grumbles in annoyance.

She sits across from him with a loud thud. Her hands immediately reach across the table to grab his wrists which nearly causes him to drop his coffee. The man didn’t even have the energy to ask what the hell she was doing. Her eyes began scanning his face swiftly, taking in every detail.

“When was the last time you had a good nights sleep?” She asks before letting her tight grip on his wrists go.

He scoffs as if what she was talking about was way off. She basically jumps across the table to smack her palms on either side of his face, squishing it a bit. He grabs her wrists to move her grip but it’s no use, he was too tired and she was far too determined.

“I heard you gasp in your room last night when I was going to get a drink,” she says with narrowed eyes, “and I know you aren’t getting laid so it had to have been a nightmare.”

His mouth hands open at the somewhat insulting words that came out of Hanji’s mouth. How would she know he wasn’t getting anything? He pushed his eyebrows together in a knot and wanted to tell her to fuck off, but he kept himself together.

“So what if I did, it’s not a big deal,” he mumbles and she finally lets go of his face.

“It kinda is a big deal if it’s been going on for weeks,” she says while waving her hands in the air, “eye bags like those don’t form over night.”

He looks down at the wooden table so she’ll stop pointing out and looking at his sleepy features. He’s fully aware of how bad he looks but he’s too stubborn to get help. Hanji knows of Levi’s ways and that’s why she’s trying to annoy the hell out of him. She thinks if she bothers him enough he’ll seek help just for her to leave him alone.

“I know a way your nightmares can go away,” she says with her tone laced in excitement, “get a dream catcher!”

The man had never heard of a dream catcher. For a second he thought it was a drug, he wouldn’t put it past Hanji to try something ‘in the name of science.’ His confused features become prominent and she realizes she should probably explain what this dream catcher is.

“About a month ago I was having this awful dream and it kept going on and on. So I went into town to see a doctor for some strong sleeping medicine and then I saw this colorful sign that said,” she stood up to show how big the sign was, “dream catchers for sale!”

Levi was still beyond confused at this point. And his annoyance with how much energy she had this early in the morning was growing. He just wanted to walk away and get some paperwork done, and then hopefully be able to fall asleep without disruptions. Deep down he knew the dream was just going to happen again.

“The girl there will explain it to you, she will do a lot better job than me, but basically they get rid of your bad dreams,” the smile on her face was huge.

That’s when Levi became interested. So all he didn’t to do was get a dream catcher and this would all go away? It seemed easy enough. Hanji noticed the way his shoulder perked up and her smile only grew.

“It’s right next to that little tavern I forced you to go to with me that one morning, and it’s impossible to miss the sign,” she beams, “also the girl is cute, so you may leave with another prize.”

She wiggles her eyebrows and Levi can’t help but roll his eyes at the crazy women. She stands up quickly before strutting out of the room feeling victorious.

“Thank you Hanji,” Levi whispers just enough for her to hear.

“You’re welcome,” she sings back.

He’s left alone with his thoughts. Was he really going to go see whatever the hell Hanji was talking about? When it comes down to it she didn’t explain what it looked like or if it was a damn drug. He really was going into this blind, but his need for sleep was far too high to not atleast check it out.

Going into town wasn’t his favorite thing to do whatsoever. Most of the time he wouldn’t be seen walking around. Hanji would have to beg for hours, sometimes days, for him to leave base with her. In all the years of knowing him she’d only succeeded a handful of times.

Yet here he was walking through town with his hands stuffed into his pockets. It was rather noisy and crowded, which is what he hated the most. The sun was shining and children were out playing, running in the streets like no one else was around. He had nearly ate shit when a little girl ran infront of him as if he wasn’t there.

“I’m gonna go crazy,” he mumbled to himself.

Right as he turned the corner he saw that sign Hanji had described to him. Swirls of pink, purple, and blue were painted onto it and white block letters spelled out ‘Dream Catchers For Sale!’ His eyes observed the little stand and watches as a women handed the young girl money with a big smile on her face.

Once the women walked away and no one was occupying it he began making his way in that direction. The girl had turned her back before he’d gotten there, he could only guess she was putting away the money. When she turned back around her eyes widened and she jumped at his presence. The girls cheeks heated up as soon as she realized what she did.

“I’m sorry, I just didn’t hear you come up and got a bit startled,” she says nervously.

Levi half smiles at the girl, and he kinda surprised himself with his own actions. He finds her awfully cute which he didn’t see coming. It had been a few years since he admitted to finding someone attractive. He looks behind her to see some sort of art, maybe, hanging on nails imbedded in wood. The girl had gotten a big slab of wood and painted it with the same colors as her sign.

“How can I help you?” She asks with a warm smile that makes his heart skip a beat. What the hell is going on with him right now?

“My uh,” he thought for a second, “my friend told me about this thing called a dream catcher. I wanted to get one possibly.”

She smiles and nods, happy to help someone.

“Well i’m (y/n) and i’d be glad to help you,” she beams.

Levi can’t help but abserve her beauty, and her name had a nice ring to it. She turned around to grab one of the objects hanging on the wall before bringing it back to him. She sets it down on the small table infront of her so he can get a better look.

He observes the object and found it rather interesting. There was a large circle at the top, appearing to be made out of wood, that had red string wrapped around and across it to create abstract patterns. More red string hung off the bottom of it, and at the end of those strings were white and grey feathers.

(y/n) watches as his eyes scan over it in curiosity. She loves the looks on people’s faces when they take in every detail of her hard work. He then looks up at her to see she’s looking at him, and his heart beat increases a bit.

“I’m Levi by the way,” he says, “And i’m guessing this is the so called dream catcher?”

She didn’t expect the stranger to tell her his name but she was glad he did.

“Nice to meet you Levi, and yes it is! Would you like me to explain the dream catcher a bit?” She says excitedly with her same smile that got prettier by the minute.

His answer comes in a nod.

“So, a dream catcher is supposed to prevent you from having nightmares, and it’s the healthy option too. Getting medicine you know little about can be dangerous and have negative effects,” she explains.

Levi can’t help but watch the way her lips move and eyes light up. She was rather endearing and knew how to keep your attention with her sweetness. He could tell she found joy in helping people, and he found that admirable.

“It’s not proven to work so don’t come yelling at me tomorrow if you still struggle to sleep,” she giggles, “it’s more of a positive energy object. If you put faith into it and wish it to work it most likely will, that’s what my grandmother always told me. Plus i’ll be handing it off to you with my positive energy!”

He couldn’t help but smile at how excited her tone was. She was happy to help him, a stranger, with her little creation.

“Basically just keep an open mind and gather up all of your positivity,” she says, “Oh and also you hang it on your wall, preferably near your bed. Even better if it’s above your head.”

She was sorta rambling due to the fact she found Levi extremely attractive. It’d been awhile since a man had found his way to her stand, let alone one who had such perfect features. Sure she’d noticed the bags under his eyes but she knew that was the reason he was here.

“Well uh, i’ll take it. Thank you for explaining to me (y/n),” he smiles softly.

The way her name rolled off his tongue sent a chill up her spine. His voice was so deep and smooth, she wanted to hear it in other ways. She pinched her wrist at the dirty thought that was beginning to creep into her head. This man could be crazy for all she knows.

Before she can tell him the price he’s already digging in his pocket and setting the money on the table. She could quickly tell it was more than what she charged.

“Let me get you your change-“ “No, keep it.”

Her cheeks heat up at his kindness. She was struggling financially right now, not many people found her business appealing.

“Actually,” he grabs more money and puts it with the stack on the table, “I’ll take two more.”

(y/n) can’t help but smile brightly at his actions. She grabs two more for him and puts all the dream catchers in a small basket then sets a note on top that Levi didn’t seem to notice. She hands it off to him and he smiles back at her.

“Thank you so much,” she says with her sweet voice that Levi found comforting.

“Of course,” he says, “I’ll be back tomorrow to tell you if it worked for me, but it’s more of an excuse to see you again.”

Her eyes widen at his words and she’s sure her face reached a shade of red that it never had before. He watches as her features get all flustered at his words and he smirks. This girl truly was adorable and he had to come see her again.

“Have a nice rest of your day (y/n),” he says before turning his back and walking off.

“Y-You too,” she stutters. In that moment she wanted to face palm herself for being such a flustered mess. She’s just met him maybe fifteen minutes ago and he already had an effect of her.

That night Levi hung all three dream catchers on the wall above his headboard. When he went to put the basket on his desk he noticed the small yellow tinted piece of paper laying on the bottom, face down. He picks it up and sees the neat handwriting spread across it.

Thank you for supporting my business!

My positive energy is rooting for you to have a good nights sleep!

Levi smiles at the words, she were awfully kind. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to stop himself from going to see you tomorrow, even if he had things to do. Her sweat voice range through his head as his eye lids became heavy. He laid down and it only took him a few seconds to fall into a deep sleep.

Tonight was the first night in weeks that Levi slept peacefully. There were no bad dreams, and no seeing his friends die. He’d slept so soundly then when he woke up he was kind of confused. That’s when it hit him, he’d just gotten a full night of sleep with no interruptions.

He stretched his body and it felt amazing. His eyes didn’t feel like bricks in his face, his head wasn’t pounding, and his body felt loose instead of stiff. He looked up at the dream catchers with a small smile on his face. The girls little creation had actually worked, but he thought it was her kindness that contributed to the good nights sleep.

Later that day he walked back to (y/n)’s stand and praised her for his good nights sleep. The blush on her face never seemed to leave the whole time they talked. And Levi couldn’t remember that last time he’d laughed this much during a conversation. If anyone who knew him saw him right now they’d think he was filled to the brim with alcohol. That’d be the only thing they could think of to make his personality do a three-sixty.

Levi ended up asking (y/n) to get coffee with him the next morning. It was the start to a beautiful relationship.

265 notes · View notes

druid-for-hire · 4 years

Photo

new hadestown au: BIKER ! EURYDICE, in which she’s a rogue lone-wolf biker dwelling in the urban jungle of a Neo Tokyo-type city called Hadestown, wracked with biker gangs, violence, poverty, corruption, and civil unrest, still recovering and rebuilding from an apocalyptic event many years ago. Heavy-handed with the AKIRA inspirations here, haha.

She fights for herself on the dangerous streets, an illegal racer with a consistent top-three placement and a reputation for ferocity that earns her the money she needs to scrape by. And then she meets Orpheus: a dopey bartender who has no place being in her business.

okay okay okay i’m gonna be jumping around a lot here. be warned. thanks @supercantaloupe, @regzillas, @birdmanlyss for your contributions! (sorry if i missed someone it’s been a while)

she's a lone wolf in a city infested with biker gangs and it's brutal

she's run over plenty of limbs in her day

then there's orpheus, this gentle, kind-hearted soul, an indie musician and shes like. fuck. now i gotta keep this bastard safe

puts a long pipe with a mess of bolts and metal on the end in his hands and tells him he'd better buckle up and learn to fight the road

this sort of thing is common among biker gangs to cause destruction and knock people off their bikes onto the road. other types include mallets, hammers, baseball bats, etc

shes small but knows a lot of self defense and is very good at handling herself on the road

besides teaching orpheus to steel himself and yes use that pipe on people, push them off and jam it in their wheels and let it break if it does, she's gotta teach him to hold on while she pulls all this crazy shit on her bike

she avoids taking him on the road because having to fight people gives him so much stress but he also stresses about her so it's all weird

the first time orpheus sees her run over someones arm hes like ""???????????????????!!!!!!!!"

"Don't worry it doesn't happen often" "WHAT IS 'OFTEN'"

she has a red songbird on her helmet and flowers on her jacket

and flowers painted on her bike too probably

or patterns like on the album cover

orpheus thinks it’s the prettiest shit he’s ever seen

so eurydice races, right? everyones like “who is this tiny little upstart” and then she takes off her helmet and shakes out her hair and everyone loses it

somethingsomething ig hades (who is something of a crime boss here, similar to Tombstone from the Spectacular Spider-Man cartoon, but not so unambiguously villainous in nature) becomes a contractor and he catches her in like, a bad contract that's hard to get out of without some kind of consequence

and now orpheus has to topple a capitalist again

anyway she like, meets orpheus in this little bar he works at

it's about lower middle class, so it's not too bad but it's still mostly populated by like, poorer people and bikers, etc.

they meet and it's cool and fun blah blah Come Home With Me shit

also this is a scene:

biker!eury: we gotta cross through downtown orpheus: what???? but there's a riot going on there! right now! eury: that's too bad, it's the fastest way! that's why you get this! (tosses him her pipe weapon) orpheus, barely catching it: sajskhsfdfs ???? eury: and i am gonna take this. (kicks open a trunk and takes out a rifle) orpheus: ???????!!!!???!?? WHERE DID YOU GET THAT AND DO WE REALLY NEED IT eury: Yes we do now come on orpheus: H-HOW did you get it eury: (loads gun) no worries orpheus: No i have many worries HOW DID YOU--

actually, on this emergency ride, orpheus proves surprisingly competent with her pole weapon—ruthless even, and eurydice wonders just where and how the hell he learned that

the conversation she has with him about that is the same one where he shows her his old, old scars

(besides ruthless—orph has apparently learned how to pose and intimidate. he does stuff like putting the tip of the pole-pipe to the asphalt as they’re riding, skipping on the road and creating sparks)

eurydice loves her bike more than certain relatives

certain complications lead to it being destroyed by hades as punishment for doing him wrong. and it destroys her. that is her most trusted sacred bike, that thing has been with her since she was a teenager

once she repurposes that devastation into white-hot anger orph has to physically restrain her from hunting hades down and breaking his kneecaps with a thick lead pipe

he's never seen her this absolutely devastated and furious

he goes to persephone for more work because he wants to buy eurydice a new bike

he keeps it a secret from her until he leads her out to a garage, hands over her eyes

(some of these bits are copypasted from my friend @regzillas)

orpheus takes his hands off and says Tada!!! it's just like the old one, there's no painted birds but she can do that. She just stands there in total silence mouth open, and orpheus goes 'so? do you like it?' before she bursts into tears. and at first orpheus is like :O!!!!! oh no!!! do you not like it? and eurydice through sobs just says 'nobody's ever done something like this for me’

it's... beautiful, it's touching, it's deep and it's love and she's so in love and she loves him so much, and she cries and holds him close and takes him in and she's so overwhelmed by her emotions, full of the care that orpheus so freely gives to her; and it's a breath of newness, fresh air in the cycle of dread and bitter anger that haunts the city (but she's still going to find hades and shoot him in the foot)

he just holds her and kisses her head

they spend the day painting it, the day after he buys the bike

hand-painted. and they both leave their handprints in paint on it, like carl and ellie do on their mailbox in the beginning of Up

a significant amount of time is spent thinking of a good name

theres lots of joking and eurydice playfully shoves orpheus and he falls over into paint

okay i wrote something like. Obnoxiously long for orpheus. i sort of have his backstory in this down, but i don’t have anything for eurydice unfortunately :( suggestions are welcome! but first: Hermes

biker!au hermes owns a chain of bars, several of which find their patronage among the ruffian youth, several of which are more refined and serve the middle class, and another several of which serve the upper crust hermes has a hand in every world and it serves him pretty well, and his chain is a bit of a channel of communication and its unspoken rule that whatever socioeconomic class or gang or organization you're a part of, hermes' chain is neutral territory no fighting allowed

eurydice walks in and hermes just gives her a Look and taps the 'no fighting' sign and she huffs

hes >:( if anyone does try to start shit. the honor system is strong enough that usually the other patrons will just throw them out, and if there are really problems, they'll hear from hermes personally

he maintains a very strict "no bitching in my fucking kitchen" atmosphere

and now, Orpheus

this really is kind of akira but without the government conspiracies; the city is a neon corrupt hellscape that’s still struggling to rebuild after an apocalyptic event that wiped it all through. the city is wracked with frustration and violence and anger, there are still urban ruins everywhere and the scars of rebuilding and struggle are plain in every corner of life; plain to see are the shells of ruined buildings, gigantic boats levelled from the sea and left in the middle of inland sectors.

orpheus was abandoned by his mother at an early age—kind and timid, he had to learn fast how to be suspicious and cautious in cruel ways. he couldn’t land himself a spot in any of the groups that other ragtag raging folks had eked out for themselves, still too hesitant or ungraceful or young for any of them. sure, he made friends, sitting and talking with lots of people, but never got to really team up—all he could do was just fight for himself in the blown out corners of the city. weapons made from whatever he had. a young child already spitting blood and teeth in hadestown’s vicious ground-floor landscape.

hermes is his mother’s close old friend, though the times they see each other are few and far between. when he saw him, hermes hardly recognized her son, wild-eyed and clawed and alone in one of the city’s more dangerous neighborhoods, with a pole full of screws slung over his back. how did she lose track of her kid for so long? he thinks. and takes him in.

hermes eventually realizes that his mother didn’t lose him. meanwhile, tiny orpheus, kind-hearted orpheus, despises hermes at first. he’s full of suspicion and desperately wants to lean into hermes’ kindness, but the streets have taught him to hold back. he spits curses at him, though the words slide right off hermes’ shoulders. it’s not genuine. just frustrated. and picked off of the delinquents that were his friends, just like most everything else about him.

(hermes knows he’s gotten his trust when orpheus starts getting soft, when he’s crying over littler things; it means he’s been deemed safe to be vulnerable around, and he damn near starts crying himself.)

orpheus owns a little vespa! it’s covered in stickers, some of them worn out and old, some places with just the adhesive and the fuzzy white paper from where he tried to pull them off. some of them aren’t even proper stickers and just shit he peeled off from places while he was wandering around and stuck onto the vespa

even in canon i see him as the kind of guy who like. you look at him and think jesus how is this guy still alive he’s so noodly and soft, but he’s unexpectedly sort of street smart

anyway i mentioned this before but didn’t elaborate. biker au orph, to eury's surprise, does have his collection of scars, since he had a bit of a rough go at life

also he’s just ungainly and runs into shit

you can see em on his sketch page. he has a bit more than what’s shown, but what’s visible is a little slash across the bridge of his nose onto his cheek, and two on his left forearm. he probably has a stab scar in his side from just getting fucking knifed. the ones on his left forearm are from when a drunk coming out of a bar charged him with a fork

eurydice also has scars. kind of hard not to with the kind of life she lives

ok thats it. For Now. i don’t know how persephone or the fates or the workers factor in, if at all. I barely know how Hades factors in, mostly what i’ve said so far and that he does what he does to support himself and persephone. ah well! just have this

as this is extremely based off of AKIRA, i verily recommend listening to the movie’s soundtrack. besides the fact that it slaps hard as hell, the opening song, Kaneda’s Theme, has the perfect vibes for the city and the tone of eurydice and orpheus riding at night through it

#hadestown #hadestown art #hadestown fanart #hadestown au #broadway #musicals #biker au #my art #this au first came into being because i wanted eurydice with fingerless gloves

1K notes · View notes

senterya · 3 years

Text

It's been an absolute joy reading people's takes on the OC interview that has been floating around recently.

The idea of a Pale Rose interview (read: Fyarh and Nym dragging ex-courtier Reln into this) sounded so oddly entertaining that I wrote it for myself for fun but it turned out... surprisingly okay? So I'm gonna leave it here.

OC Interview: Pale Rose edition

(Draw (or use an old drawing, don’t worry!) or take a screen of your character in an interview setting and make them answer the following questions!)

1. Can you introduce yourself?

Fyarh: Sure. I’m Fyarh, founder and – formally – leader of Pale Rose. I’m also the head of the Dreamers’ division in our guild. (turns to the other two) And they are Nymeleia and Reln, head of the Soundless and Courtiers, respectively.

Nymeleia: (with a wide smile) Glad to be here!

Reln: (remains silent – just nods a little)

2. What is your gender identity, orientation, and relationship status?

Fyarh: (after a few seconds of thinking) I’m male, maybe prefer others who identify as that too? Didn’t think too much about it before.

Nymeleia: I’m looking both ways. I’m female and taken, you could say.

Reln: Why is this even– (exhales) ...I’m male, I don’t care what my partner identifies as. And my relationships are not for the public to chew on.

3. Where and when were you born?

Nymeleia: Back in the Grove, all of us. I awoke at Dawn and the boys are both Night blooms.

4. What is your weapon of choice and fighting style?

Fyarh: I’m best at stealth and surprise – daggers work just fine with that. If it’s an open confrontation, I prefer a light sword that doesn’t hinder my agility. But I’m trained and still training in hand-to-hand combat too.

Nymeleia: I was trained at the Vigil to be the shield, not the spearhead of the attack. I stay behind and make sure nothing hits that shouldn’t. I utilize shades and magic so technically I don’t need a weapon – a staff or scepter can help, though. I also carry a dagger on me, just in case.

Reln: I’m best with a bow. Two-handed sword if it comes to that. But whatever does the job, really.

5. Lastly, are you happy?

Fyarh: (smiles and glances at the others) I am. I’m on the path my Wyld Hunt laid out to me and I got great allies and friends that are with me every step I take. I’m truly grateful for that.

Nymeleia: (with a soft smile) I feel like I found my calling here. I’m working on a cause and with people that are amazing. I’m pretty happy with that, yes.

(both look over to Reln)

Reln: (after a few seconds of silence, with a cynical smile) Are we just supposed to say yes or no to that? Like happiness is that easy to define. (he glances to the side for a second.) But it’s been better here. Take that as a yes.

FAMILY AND FRIENDS

1. What’s your family like? What is your relationship with them?

Fyarh: The guild is the closest I have to a family in a sense you ask. I think? I’m on good terms with everyone – luckily, I mean... (he laughs a little nervously) ...it’s as it should be.

Nymeleia: I’m with Fyarh on this one. The sylvari in Rose are the closest people to me.

Reln: It really is pointless to ask sylvari about “family” – we’re all technically related, but are strangers at the same time.

Nymeleia: (with a smile she barely tries to hide) You are dodging the question.

Reln: I’m not dodging anything, I’m being reasonable. I have close friends, and allies – call that a family, if you want to.

2. Have you ever run away from home?

Nymeleia: We’re all sort of runaways, aren’t we? (she laughs) I’m Soundless, I left the Grove quite early, then joined the Vigil. Does that count?

Fyarh: It counts. But just so that you don’t feel left out. (Nymeleia gasps and mimics trying to kick him in the shin, they both laugh. Takes them a few more seconds to get back on track.)

Fyarh: I used to sneak away a lot when I was supposed to be in lectures. I loved discovering Caledon, I knew every corner of it so well when I was a sapling. Maybe I’d still remember if I walked around.

Reln (after everyone looks at him): ...I’m from the Court. I think that’s self-explanatory.

Fyarh: But didn’t you also wander away a lot?

Reln: You could say. I preferred being alone. Hunting was a good excuse.

3. Would you consider marriage or having children?

Fyarh: In the far future, maybe? I’m still very young though, and my hands are full with my guild and my Hunt. It’s definitely not something I think about a lot.

Nymeleia: Marriage sounds cute – I like the idea of honoring commitment with a little ceremony.

Reln: Neither of those seems to be for me.

Nymeleia: (quietly) Ah, my heart.

(Reln glances at her, but doesn’t respond.)

4. Do you secretly hate one of your friends?

Fyarh and Nymeleia: No...?

Reln: (slightly annoyed) Is it even a friend if you hate them? Next question.

5. Which friend knows everything about you?

Fyarh: Maybe Daleien? We've known each other for the longest, and he was with me through thick and thin. Nowadays I share a lot with Nym and Reln too. I used to be very secretive about myself but I’m working on it.

Nymeleia: We chat and gossip a lot with Dia – she’s another Soundless from the guild. She’s lovely and so supportive, I’m really glad I have her.

Reln: I’m not the one to share everything about myself. But my second-in-command knows the most.

Nymeleia: Oh don’t listen to him. He and Lavan technically read each other’s minds – no words, just half a gesture, and they know all they need to know.

ASKED BY FANS

1. Are you literate? Have you been to school?

Fyarh: I’m literate, and I’ve been mentored as much – well, maybe a little less – than any other sylvari.

Nymeleia: I actually struggled with reading and writing for a while – I could, just not well, as I never really had to. Paperwork has been a nightmare for the first months in Rose, but by now I got the hang of it. I’ve been reading a lot of novels recently, too.

Reln: I’m literate, and was mentored like all other saplings. The latter didn’t reach its purpose, though.

2. The eeriest prediction you made that later came true?

(They all look at each other, but neither of them seems to have an answer or anything they’d be willing to share.)

3. What is something you were embarrassingly late to realize?

Fyarh: Oh. I somehow never really talked about my Wyld Hunt in.... sufficient detail to my mentors? Not before the Wardens arrested me for hiding thorn pups in a forsaken outpost. It was a real journey talking my way out from there. One of the most embarrassingly funny things that happened to me, in retrospect.

Nymeleia: I was always too caught upon not handling the concept of pain, and death, very well. I don’t regret working on it and toughening up, I just wish I had realized sooner that I should hone my strengths instead of desperately trying to “correct” what I perceive as a weakness.

Reln: ...I guess I haven’t realized soon enough what real understanding means. (he seems mildly uncomfortable by the question, and does not elaborate)

4. Do you have mental health or physical issues?

Fyarh: Fighting takes a toll on everyone, I’d say. But nothing other than that.

Nymeleia: (nodding along – her eyes wander off to the distance)

Reln: A few scars here and there. Had a lot to deal with after coming back from the heart of the jungle, but I have worked through most of those by now.

5. What is your current main goal?

Fyarh: I’m dedicating all my time to the guild. It’s been coming along so much better than what I prepared myself for, and I’m not about to waste the opportunity.

Nymeleia: I’m not satisfied with my level of skills on the field yet – I’m spending as much time on training as I can, next to Rose. There are some other necromancers in the guild with who we share our knowledge, and I have gotten some general good advice and lectures from Firstborn Trahearne himself. It’s crazy how far Fyarh’s connections go.

Reln: I’m busy training and supervising my own division. Most of us are reliable and trusting, but there are and will always be a few loose cannons I need to keep an eye out for.

CHOICES

1. Drink or food?

Fyarh: A drink, maybe? I tend to forget to eat. It’s getting on Nym’s nerves at times.

Nymeleia: Ah don’t even mention it. I’m picking food – nothing tops a good, warm meal after a long day.

Reln: Food, if I have to pick.

2. Cats or dogs?

Fyarh: I love cats. I wouldn't mind adopting one, but I'm afraid I wouldn't be able to take good care of them.

Nymeleia: Can we pick both, maybe?

Reln: (glancing at the thorn wolf lying next to him) I’m more of a dog person. But cats are good too.

3. Early bird or night owl?

Fyarh: I’m a night owl. Waking up with the rest of the guild at early hours is a nightmare for me. I tend to oversleep so much, it’s almost comical.

Nymeleia: That’s not a problem for me though. I’m up before everyone else. And so is Reln.

Reln: (nodding)

4. Optimist or pessimist?

Fyarh: Optimist.

Nymeleia: Same, some will even say naive for sure.

Reln: Middle ground. I’m more of a realist than any of the two.

5. Sassy or sarcastic?

Fyarh: Maybe... sassy? With close friends. I don’t feel like either most of the time, honestly.

Nymeleia: Would you say I’m more sassy or sarcastic?

Reln: (to her) Is that really a question?

Nymeleia: Oh entertain me.

Reln: (gestures towards her; she laughs)

HAVE YOU EVER

1. Been caught sneaking out?

Fyarh: Once, when I was sneaking out of a Court camp with two stolen thorn pups. Barely got away. Didn’t dare to show myself around there for a while.

Nymeleia: Several times. Did a lot of bathroom cleaning in the Vigil for it too.

Reln: If I was, I doubt I would be here today.

2. Broken a bone?

Fyarh: Miraculously, no. I don’t even know myself how’s that possible.

Nymeleia: My left arm. Open wound, too – wasn’t a good experience.

Reln: Nothing that a field medic couldn’t fix.

3. Received flowers?

Fyarh: If you mean it like, in a romantic way? No, not yet.

Nymeleia: I received a few, but in my experience Vigil soldiers are more of the blunt than the romantic type.

Reln: No.

Nymeleia: How dare you. I gave you potted herbs a while ago!

Fyarh: (leaning forward) Potted herbs?

Nymeleia: It’s because he takes his food back to his room all the time. And then he complains about the seasoning. Go figure!

4. Ghosted someone?

Fyarh: I did... use to run away from confrontations a lot. But people say I’ve gotten better with that too.

Nymeleia: I prefer to just tell people if I’m not interested in talking to them. As kindly as possible, of course. But I think it’s ruder to leave them hanging.

Reln: I did leave from places – the Grove, the Court – suddenly, but then again, I didn’t have many connections to either in the first place.

5. Pretended to laugh at a joke you didn’t get?

Fyarh: That happens. Easier than trying to go back to it and figure it out, takes away the flow of the conversation.

Nymeleia: Everyone does that from time to time, no?

Reln: I don’t. If someone’s not funny enough, that’s not my problem.

#oc interview #pale rose recon #fyarh #nymeleia #reln #gw2

9 notes · View notes

musette22 · 4 years

Text

You Make My Heart Skip A Beet

You Make My Heart Skip a Beet

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes (Stucky)

Word count: 3.8k

Rating: Teen and Up

A/N: Based on this lovely prompt by @greyhoundsgirl. I have to be honest here, I’ve never actually seen Top Chef though so I thought it would be safer to make up a new fictional amateur cooking competition which I’ve titled Chef Wars :p

No warnings to speak of, apart from maybe for awful food puns, but it is a bit of a cracky piece, and it’s in Sam POV (poor guy). Hope you enjoy!! 💗 Huge thanks to the amazing @rainbowsandcoconut for brainstorming, food puns and awesome beta’ing, as usual 😘

Read on AO3

Summary:

“I made soda bread.”

Steve lets out the 6’2” supersoldier equivalent of a squeak. “Oh, I love soda bread,” he says eagerly, rolling forward on the balls of his feet like he does when he gets excited. “My mom used to make it all the time when I was growing up.”

The tips of Barnes’s ears turn red, and he mutters something that sounds suspiciously like, “I know.”

****************************

When Sam and Steve had first been approached about being guest judges on an Avengers-themed special of Chef Wars, they’d spent a full fifteen minutes jumping around the common room in the Tower like a pair of overgrown kids on a sugar high.

Guest judges. On Chef Wars.

It so happens that Sam and Steve watch Chef Wars religiously. In fact, Steve even mentioned this in passing in one or two of his more recent interviews when asked how Captain America likes to spend his downtime, which is probably how the show’s executives had thought to invite them in the first place.

Sam’s love for cooking and cooking shows was passed down to him by his mother Darlene, and he, in turn, passed it on to Captain America – though if you’d told ten-year-old Sam that, he would’ve thought you were nuts. Poor Steve isn’t exactly the culinary sort of guy himself, but once Sam started turning up on his doorstep three nights a week to keep him company and make sure he didn’t sink further into depression, he’d slowly started to enjoy the shows Sam insisted on watching with him. Sam figured the familiarity of the actions and the low stakes of an amateur cooking competition would be perfectly suited to someone trying to integrate into a new century, while still being just exciting enough to hold the attention of an adrenaline junkie like Steve.

And he was right. So now, every Thursday night, the two of them chill on Steve’s couch, yelling at the TV and pretending they‘d do a better job of it than the contestants. Which, to be fair, Sam probably would, but Steve decidedly would not. What Steve lacks in culinary skills, though, he more than makes up for with his crazy supersoldier metabolism, rivaled only by the Other Guy and sometimes Thor, once he’s cracked open the mead. Steve can eat, and he does so with relish.

So needless to say, when they got the invite, they’d both jumped at the chance. Who wouldn’t, when presented with the opportunity to do the thing they did every Thursday night for funsies, but this time for realsies? And after weeks of giddy anticipation, today is finally the day.

Filming day.

The whole thing had gotten off to an excellent start. The sun was shining, Steve had actually been whistling on their way to the studio instead of nervously drumming his fingers on the dashboard (something which got on Sam’s nerves like nothing else), and they’d been offered some quality Italian espresso when they arrived. The show got on the road as soon as they’d gotten a quick tour of the studio, and after lights, camera, action, the contestants were introduced one by one.

There is Bernadette, a Missouri housewife who turned out to be somewhat of a BBQ expert and who reminds Sam of his Aunt Jenna; there’s Bob, a big, burly dude from Kentucky who wouldn’t look amiss on a Pro Wrestling show but who ends up surprising them all with a surprisingly delicate edible flower-dish dedicated to his lovely wife; and Yulia, a tiny, fierce girl from Bulgaria with some mean knife skills who Sam suspects could very well be a distant relative of Natasha’s.

And then there’s Bucky Barnes.

Bucky Barnes is a thirty-one-year-old physical therapist from Brooklyn who’s looking to change careers and get into the restaurant business full time. He has that whole hipster vibe going on: long, meticulously conditioned chestnut hair in a messy top knot, designer stubble, sleeve of – admittedly awesome – tattoos on his left arm. His cool, blue eyes and sharp cheekbones give him a model-like appearance, and yet there’s something soft and disarming about him.

Steve certainly seems to think so, at least.

The moment Barnes came walking through those glass doors, Sam heard Steve suck in a sharp breath at his side. A quick glance at Steve’s slack-jawed expression told Sam all he needed to know, since the dude is about as subtle as a sledgehammer. He’d elbowed Steve in the side until he looked over and pretended to wipe some drool from the corner of his mouth. Steve’s eyes went wide as he hastily mirrored the movement, missing the joke by about fifty yards. Oh, boy.

From that moment onward, Steve’s brain seemed to have gone through a blender, turning it into a rainbow smoothie – which was pretty unfortunate, considering they were going to have to interact with the contestants in a way that was suitable for daytime television.

The thing is, Steve is not exactly what you’d call a people person at the best of times. He’s fine with someone he’s known for a while and feels comfortable with, but with strangers he’s just… a little awkward. Credit where credit’s due, Steve is one of the most loyal, sweet, funny and whip-smart guys Sam has ever known – and let’s not forget stubborn as hell – but he’s also very, very bad at social cues. It’s not his fault, of course. Steve had gone from growing up pretty isolated without any real friends to speak of, to suddenly spending years surrounded only by his army buddies, which wasn’t at all representative for how normal people interacted with each other (Sam knows this from experience).

While Steve’s many social faux-pas are an endless source of entertainment for Sam, he’s not a total asshole, and he has tried to help Steve practice his social skills. Unfortunately, giving him well-meaning advice like “just be yourself” seems to be a sure-fire way to ensure Steve will put his foot in his mouth somehow.

That’s why Steve prefers to put on his Cap persona for public interactions. When he’s Captain America instead of Steve Rogers, all he has to do is look commanding and sort of friendly and say bland things like “I’m very happy to be here” and “You did well, son” and no one would be any the wiser that beneath that righteous exterior, Steve was floundering and wondering when he could reasonably leave whatever social engagement Pepper had sweet-talked him into attending, and head home to the comfort of his armchair and his sketchbook.

For today’s engagement, Steve had wisely adopted this approach as well, and the fact that he was genuinely excited to be there helped to loosen him up a little – so really, it should’ve all been fine.

But then Bucky Barnes from Brooklyn walked into the room and turned his big, blue eyes in Steve’s direction, and Steve promptly seemed to forget who or what a Captain America even was.

So far, Steve has already missed his cue twice, and it’s taken Sam stepping on his toes to get him to focus. To be fair, though, Steve puts in a valiant effort to pull himself together, managing to ooh and aah in all the right places when talking to the other candidates – sheer dumb luck, if you ask Sam. But as Steve’s best friend and confidante, Sam sees right through it. He hasn’t missed the way Steve’s gaze keeps drifting in Barnes’ direction, and coupled with the blush creeping up the back of Steve’s neck whenever Barnes’s eyes meet his, it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that Cap has got himself a Manhattan-sized crush.

Now, most people probably aren’t aware that Captain America is also attracted to men, but Sam has a feeling that by the end of this episode, that cat will be most definitely out of the closet. Steve’s never purposely hid his sexuality; it was more of a question of it never having come up yet. It sure as hell has come up now.

And what makes this even better is that Barnes is just as bad. He stuttered his way through his introduction, very obviously starstruck at meeting Captain America, but also very obviously gay as hell for him, if the way his eyes lingered on Steve’s chest and thighs is any indication. Sam, for his part, is incredibly amused by it all. Not only does he get to be on the set of his favorite cooking show, he also gets to rib Steve, throwing in as many food puns as he possibly can – most of which go over Steve’s head because he’s too busy drooling over Barnes. Sam’s wit is wasted on his friends.

Then, it’s time to judge. In the first round, the contestants are supposed to make something which represents why they got into cooking in the first place.

Sam can feel Steve practically vibrate with nerves at his side as they walk up to Barnes’ station. Feeling magnanimous, Sam decides to have mercy on his muscly pal and take the lead on this one.

“Mr. Barnes,” he says, giving Barnes an encouraging smile. “Tell us about your dish, if you please.”

“Call me Bucky,” Barnes says, returning the gesture with a quick quirk of his lips.

Next to him, Steve repeats the name in a whisper, most likely unaware that he’s even doing it.

Sam has to bite down on the inside of his cheek to keep from smirking.

*****

Bucky’s confessional

“I grew up in Brooklyn, as the eldest of five kids. My dad left when I was fifteen, and while I was still in school, my mom had to work three jobs to provide for us all. She wasn’t home much, so it was kind of up to me to make sure dinner was on the table most nights.”

Bucky plucks at the seam of his black skinny jeans, lost in thought. “I think that’s why my specialty is comfort food. Nothing unnecessary, just hearty, nutritious food, y’know?” With a tilt of his head, he adds, “Although since all my siblings moved into their own places I’ve been cooking mostly for myself and my cat, so I’ve been experimenting with adding some twists to my tried and tested recipes.” He laughs, right hand clasping the back of his neck in a bashful gesture. “I’ve had… mixed success. Luckily Alpine has loved all of it. She’s my cat.”

“My first dish today is Irish soda bread with sage butter and Himalayan sea salt,” Bucky continues. “Bread was something we could never have enough of in our household. Five growing kids, y’know? And also, um...” A slight blush creeps its way onto Bucky’s cheeks, his eyes flitting around nervously. “Well, I guess you could say I used to be a bit of a history nerd growing up. I was super interested in World War II, particularly, uh, Captain America.” His blush deepens, spreading upwards from the neckline of his white t-shirt to the tips of his pierced ears.

“I, uh, I basically read every Steve Rogers biography I could get my hands on, which is why I learned to make things like soda bread because, y’know, Steve Rogers was Irish. Is Irish,” he corrects himself. Bucky’s eyes glaze over, taking on a faraway look. “Man, I couldn’t believe it when Cap was found a few years ago,” he marvels, “and alive. I don’t think I slept for a week after I found out.” He stares into space for a moment before shaking himself. He clears his throat, eyes refocusing on the person behind the camera. “Anyway, so when I heard that Chef Wars was doing an Avengers-themed special, I immediately applied because Steve – Cap, I mean- Captain America. Um. Yeah, so Cap mentioned in a few of his interviews that he watches Chef Wars, so I figured there would be a good chance he’d be watching this one too, you know? And then I got the email that I’d been selected and that he was going to be the one judging us, and I just…” Bucky trails off, looking a little faint, the blood draining from his face as quickly as it had risen.

“God, I just can’t believe I’ll finally get to see him in the flesh.” His eyes widen. “In person, I mean," he hastily amends. "And I’m excited about my dishes too, of course. I really hope Cap will like them. And the Falcon. Him, too. Yeah.”

*****

“I made soda bread.”

The tips of Barnes’s ears turn red, and he mutters something that sounds suspiciously like, “I know.”

When Steve puts a piece of bread into his mouth and chews slowly, he sniffs, eyes turning a little watery. “It tastes exactly like my mom’s,” he says in a hushed voice, sounding like he can’t quite believe his taste buds. Sam pats Steve’s back consolingly, before scooping up some sage butter with his own piece of bread and taking an enthusiastic bite.

“Hmm, nice,” he says, giving Barnes an appreciative nod. “And the butter? You make that yourself, too?”

“You butter believe it,” Barnes replies, then immediately looks horrified, like he can’t believe he made a pun that bad on national television.

Sam cackles, holding out his fist for Barnes to bump. When Barnes has recovered enough to return the gesture with his left hand, Steve stares longingly at their touching hands, before letting his gaze trail over the tattoos on Barnes’ exposed forearm. Since he's not exactly subtle about it, Barnes catches him looking and gives Steve a tentative smile when their eyes meet. Steve chokes on absolutely nothing and launches into an impromptu coughing fit. “Crumbs,” he wheezes, thumping a massive fist on his massive chest, “wrong pipe.”

Sam just smirks at him, before turning back to Barnes. “That was delicious,” he tells him. “Can’t wait for your next dish, man.”

“Really, really, good,” Steve chimes in once he’s caught his breath. “Well done, Bucky.”

Barnes goes as red as a tomato, eyes trained on the floor as he awkwardly shifts from foot to foot. “Thank you, Captain.”

“Steve, please,” Steve implores.

Barnes bites his lip, looking up at Steve through his lashes. “Thanks, Steve.”

Sam's pretty sure Steve stops breathing altogether right then. Christ, it’s like there’s an electrical current running between the two of them, the air crackling with it. Thunderbolts and lighting, very very nauseating.

Sam claps his hands. “Right,” he says loudly, “moving on to the next contestant now… Yulia, what have you prepared for us?”

*****

By the time the second round rolls around, Steve has had a series of meltdowns and Sam has spent precious time he could’ve been exploring the set and taking pics for his mom on talking Steve out of a bathroom stall. Damn, he’s a good friend. It takes all of Sam’s VA-honed therapist skills to convince Steve that he’s doing fine, he’s not embarrassing himself, and no one but Sam has noticed Steve’s massive heart boner for Barnes yet. Sam actually isn’t entirely positive about that last one – or the first two for that matter – but Steve doesn’t need to know that. There are still two rounds to go.

In the second round, contestants are asked to make a dish that represents who they are as a person.

While the contestants are cooking up a metaphorical storm, Sam and Steve walk around their stations to chat with everyone some more, camera crew on their heels. Steve manages to get out at least three complete sentences, and Bernadette and Bob are too in awe of him to notice the few times he says something that doesn’t actually make any sense. Yulia has given no indication that she even knows who either of them are, and Sam can practically feel the relief radiating off of Steve. He guesses that’s part of why he and Natasha get on so well.

When they round on Barnes’ station, Barnes has just started seasoning his dish. There’s a checkered dishcloth slung over his right shoulder and a focused look on his face, which turns into one of low-key stress the moment he spots Steve and Sam coming towards him. Leaning his hip against the counter, Sam settles in to watch Steve make a fool of himself. He's not disappointed.

“Wow,” Steve says inanely, gesturing in the direction of Barnes’ hands. “That’s- you’re- you’re really good at that.”

Barnes pauses his turning of the peppermill to give Steve a slightly panicked look. “At… grinding?”

At Steve’s strangled cough, Barnes seems to realize what he just said, his bewildered expression morphing into one of abject mortification. The poor guy looks like he’d very much like the ground to swallow him whole right about now.

Honestly, these two deserve each other.

When they've finished chatting to everyone and it’s time to taste, Barnes is asked to explain his dish and how it represents him. He seems to have pulled himself together somewhat since their last encounter, his stance a little more confident now and his eyes only drifting to Steve’s pecs every other sentence.

“I’m a simple guy,” he tells them, somehow managing to make it sound genuine instead of cliché. “I enjoy the little things in life. I like taking care of people, making them feel good and comfortable, and I think that’s reflected in my cooking. I enjoy making comfort food, the hale and hearty stuff.” He licks his lips, meaningfully adding, “Although, don’t get me wrong. I do indulge occasionally. I’ve got my guilty pleasures same as everyone else, y'know?” That last part is directed at Steve, who nods dazedly, like he knows exactly what Barnes means. Gross.

“So I guess you could say you’re just… arugula guy?” Sam grins, cheerfully ignoring the growing sexual tension.

Barnes stares at him for a beat, and then snorts. “You know what?” he says, returning Sam's grin, “the s’more I get to know you, the s’more I like you.”

Sam has a very real moment where he thinks he might actually fall in love with this guy himself. It’s only Steve’s doe-eyed look that keeps him from proposing to Barnes there and then. Okay, and maybe the fact that Barnes is clearly smitten with Steve, and also Sam is straight and very happily dating Nat, who would not hesitate to gut him if he decided to elope with some pasty hipster dude.

Barnes’ dish – mac and cheese with black truffle and locally sourced cheeses and fancy cuts of bacon – is mouthwateringly good, and Sam tells him as much. Using appropriate words to do so. You know, like a normal person.

Steve, on the other hand, moans loudly around his bite and then, mouth still full, he blurts, “That’s exactly what I thought you’d taste like.”

In the painfully awkward silence that follows, Steve and Barnes blush so hard the combined heat of their flaming cheeks could probably power most of New York City. This time, Sam can’t contain his laughter. He crows as he gleefully slaps his thighs, and even some of the crew is hiding having a hard time staying professional in the face of such blatant dumbassery.

Shaking his head, Sam grabs Steve by the bicep and herds him towards the backroom. “Come on, Casanova,” he says. “Let’s get you some ice for those burns.”

*****

For dessert, Barnes goes all out.

He actually makes Captain America cake pops, shaped and decorated like Steve’s shield with blue, red and white frosting. Steve’s eyes almost bug out of his head when he sees them. Barnes explains how they’re “sort of an adult version” of normal cake pops, which makes Sam raise an eyebrow. He’s been on the internet. He unfortunately has seen adult versions of all kinds of Captain America paraphernalia. Fortunately, Barnes just means that his cake pops have some sort of liquor in the center, “for a punch, you know?”

The starry-eyed look Steve gives Barnes clearly conveys just how clever he thinks that is, and Sam surreptitiously rolls his eyes. No game whatsoever, either of them.

“I’ve never had a cake pop before,” Steve says, carefully picking up one of the treats and inspecting it curiously.

“Oh,” Barnes says, blinking at him. “Well, normally you’d eat them in one go, but these are a bit bigger than usual because of the shape of the shield, so you probably won’t be able to fit -”

The rest of his sentence sort of peters off into a stunned silence as Steve proceeds to stick a whole-ass giant cake pop in his mouth in one go, letting out an appreciative grunt as he chews and then swallows.

Barnes’s mouth goes slack. “Oh my god,” he breathes, his eyes glazing over, and Sam cracks up. Again.

The cake pops are actually surprisingly good, despite their garish (sorry, Steve) appearance, and then it’s time to retreat and deliberate. As was to be expected, Steve has a crisis of conscience.

“I can’t vote for him just because he made my mom’s soda bread and he practically raised his baby sisters by himself and he cooks for his cat and he has pretty eyes, Sam!” he laments, voice muffled into his massive forearms. Sam makes the filming crew promise not to air this bit. It takes some doing, but finally Sam manages to convince Steve that Barnes’s food was simply the best. Better than all the rest. He even does a little Tina impression to get his point across, and that seems to do it.

When they announce the winner, Barnes smiles so wide it transforms his whole face and makes Steve melt into a puddle of Gü.

Sam has to nudge Steve again to get him to say his line, since he’s too busy mooning over Barnes to notice the autocue changing. “Ah, yes!” Steve says loudly. “First prize is a substantial sum of money, sponsored by Tony Stark, which we hope will go towards opening your own restaurant–"

“… and a weekend stay at Avengers Tower, also sponsored by Tony!”

Steve’s head whips around to him in surprise. Sam winks at him. “Including a private tour of the premises by none other than Captain America himself. Isn’t that right, Steven?”

A beat of silence, and then Steve.exe starts back up. "Right,” he nods, drawing out the word. “Yes. That’s right.” Sam pats his arm. Good man.

Stepping forward, Steve takes Barnes’ hand and shakes it slowly. “Congratulations, Bucky. I look forward to seeing you again soon," he says, adding, after a quick, bracing inhale, “and maybe when you visit, I can make my mom’s stew for you? If- if you like?”

Sam feels a surge of pride. Look at Steve go, being something almost in the vicinity of smooth.

Barnes laps it up, beaming at Steve. “I’d really love that,” he says in a low voice, still holding Steve's hand. “I’m sure you’re delicious.” His eyes widen. “It’s delicious. The stew – not- not-" Abruptly, Barnes stops babbling, then seems to come to a decision. “Oh, fuck it,” he mutters, and pulls Steve towards him, crashing their mouths together in a scorching kiss.

Over the noise of the assembled crowd's whoops and cheers, Sam gleefully calls, “And that, my friends, is a wrap!”

#stucky #stevebucky #steve rogers x bucky barnes #shrunkyclunks #meet cute #fluff #top chef #chef bucky barnes #my fic #my writing #ao3 #sam wilson pov

271 notes · View notes

dustofbrokenheart · 4 years

Text

The Covenant Halloween Party Imagines

Caleb

He will pick a conventional costume, nothing too flashy. A doctor costume, complete with blue scrubs, a white overcoat, and a stethoscope, practically screams Caleb Danvers.

But will agree to do a couple’s costume with you. Just let him know what you have planned and he’ll make sure to get it ready by the big party.

Caleb picks you up in his cool Mustang to take you to the party and gives you a simple flower bouquet. He gives you gifts all the time but you still become giddy whenever you get one.

Once you’re settled in the car, he leans over the center console to give you a tender kiss, his fingers caressing your cheek. You hold hands the entire drive over.

At the party you plan to hit up the snacks and drinks first, but, being the popular boy that he is, Caleb is stopped every couple of steps by someone that wants to talk to him.

He looks at you with apologetic eyes with every new stop and you lean into him reassuringly each time. Sometimes you wished he was a little more anonymous around, but you tried not let it bother you—you knew what you were getting into when you guys got involved.

Finally, the food is within reach and Caleb makes sure to pile your plate high with what you tell him to grab. It’s chips, dips, cucumber chunks, and fruit pieces galore.

Some chairs open up and Caleb and you book it over there before anyone else can snag them.

You two take your time snacking, commenting on what other party goers are doing around you.

“Wow! Look at that make-up job! It’s gorgeous,” you gush while looking at someone with silver stars painted on their face. “Not as gorgeous as you,” Caleb assures. You shove some cucumber in his mouth to shut him up before he can make you more flustered.

After the plates of snacks are finished, you walk around looking for the next thing to do.

You pull Caleb to a stop when you see a game of Jenga in process in the corner. Caleb and you exchange a look and immediately go over to wait for the start of a new game.

When it’s your turn, you pull the block out with the utmost concentration, your tongue sticking out and your brow furrowed. Caleb goes next and when he also pulls a block out successfully, you cheer your loudest to show support for your boyfriend.

The rounds continue and the tower slims down block by block. On Caleb’s last turn he chooses a risky piece, saying, “Go big or go home.” The tower immediately rumbles and his hand is surround by fallen blocks.

Onlookers give him crap for it, but he takes it like a good sport. You hook your chin over his shoulder and while stroking his shoulders whisper in his ear, “Guess it’s time for us to go home then.”

Pogue

He’s comfortable showing skin, but he also isn’t the type to spend money on a costume. He will try to pull something together from what he already has at home. Grabs jeans and leather chaps to pair with a cowboy hat and calls it good—no shirt or jacket needed.

Much like Bon Jovi, Pogue rides a steal horse and will pick you up on his sweet Ducati bike, so hope that you are wearing something that will be comfortable to ride in for your own sake.

How is it possible for him to feel hot to the touch when it was an October night in Massachusetts and he wasn’t wearing anything up top?

When you arrive, Pogue parks the bike and helps you off. Wrapping his bare, heavy arm around your shoulder, you head inside together.

He takes the lead and acts as a shield between you and the rest of the crowd. He keeps his arm around you. Everyone at the Academy knows you two are an item but Pogue knows how some of the other classmates are, so this way he can keep any creeps from bothering you.

Pogue complains when he finds out the only thing there to eat s candy corn. Not a fan. But he will go to get the drinks after you’re situated with a seat. Before he leaves, he takes off the cowboy hat and places it on your head. It doesn’t match your costume at all, but you learned early on that he loves seeing you wear his stuff, so you’re not phased at all.

He’s gone for a while, so you figure he must have run into someone he knows. Suddenly, someone else joins you at your table. You feel a little awkward since you don’t know this guy, but he doesn’t seem drunk or rowdy, so you allow it.

That may have been a mistake because even though he doesn’t try engaging you in conversation, he keeps staring at you. Blatant looks that he doesn’t bother hiding. It is terribly uncomfortable.

Pogue must have read you mind because he returns to you just as you were starting to squirm. He immediately notices the unwanted guest and sizes him up. “Hey babe, everything cool?”

He doesn’t even have to speak to the other guy to confront him—Pogue’s stare is enough to scare anyone.

You sigh in relief as Pogue now takes the empty seat. “Thanks,” you say, leaning into his bare chest. “Any time,” he responds with a kiss to your temple.

The two of you drink and talk at the table. Both of you stick to beer knowing that the hard stuff would be a bad idea given that you have to leave on a motorcycle.

At one point someone tries to drag Pogue to join the costume contest that was taking place. They swear that his cowboy look is a shoe-in to win (and a clear thirst trap, you think to yourself) but he wants to part of it. For a guy confident in his looks, he isn’t interested in parading himself around.

Later on, you hear one of your favorite songs start to play over the speakers and start dancing from the comfort of your chair. Pogue smirks over at you. “If you wanna come dance on my lap, I won’t say no.” Your face burns in embarrassment. But you do end up in his lap by the end of the night.

Reid

Will definitely do a bros couple costume with Tyler. Is there a more perfect choice than doing Ghostface from Scream? It’s scary, simple, and there were two killers canonically in the original!

You plan to meet him at the party and when you get there he makes you guess which Ghostface is him. Gives himself away because he asks you in person, immediately revealing his voice, and the fact that he’s the one on the left.

Reid is one of those people that look ridiculous when trying to be cool and suave, but pull it off flawlessly when they aren’t.

When you giggle behind your hand at his goof up he removes his mask. He scratches his neck and rolls his eyes. “It wasn’t that funny, princx.”

To put him at ease you go over and squeeze his hand. He accepts your nonverbal apology and squeezes back.

Leading you deeper into the house his first course of action is to get you something to sip on. He’ll let you choose whatever, but if you can’t decide, he’ll mix something yummy for you.

The alcohol loosens you up and you drag him out to the dance floor because you want to dance with your man. Reid will indulge you for a song or two before pulling away. Dancing isn’t really his thing.

He has no problem letting you do your thing while he does his. He stays close though, in case you need back-up dealing with a pushy party goer.

The second someone tries getting touchy with you, to the point that you have to shove them away from you, that person suddenly start vomiting all over themselves. Before you can question what just happened, Reid is there to whisk you to the corner where he’s in the middle of a game of darts.

You act as his personal cheerleader and go crazy every time he throws.

Even though he’s paying more attention to you, and frequently sneaks in kisses that leave you breathless, he manages to smoke the other players. They all grumble but hand over $20 each before starting another round.

“Reid, that’s way too much money, especially for a party game! Give the money back,” you insist. “Sorry, Y/N, but a bet’s a bet.” You raise your eyebrow stiffly and he gives in, complaining the whole time.

As a reward for his good behavior, you curl your finger at him and drag him to an empty room where you two spend the rest of the party, lips locked and bodies pressed tightly together.

Reid is in nirvana and contemplates other ways to get rewarded like this.

Tyler

Does a bros couple costume with Reid. Quickly persuaded by Reid to go along with the Ghostface idea.

Unless, of course, you have your heart set on doing a couples costume with him. Because then he dismisses Reid’s idea and is behind you 100%.

Tyler arrives and you rush to open the door, eager to show off your part of the costume in person. He melts when you spin around your porch so he can fully appreciate the look. You take a few cute photos of you guys together and then head to the Hummer.

You are not surprised to see Reid in the car too, but it is surprising that he isn’t at the wheel. Tyler gives you a jokingly wounded face. “Come on, Y/N, I can be tough with him when I need to.”

The Hummer pulls up to the party and Tyler opens the door, holding out his hand to help you out of the car. Tyler shoos Reid away so you two can enjoy your date night.

He’s actually the one that asks you to dance. You’re really thankful that he knows you so well—you love to dance but you’re fairly shy and too self-conscious to take the initiative.

You two don’t take yourselves seriously at all which makes dancing even more fun. You do a sock-hop shimmy type of move and Tyler does his best attempt at moonwalking. When Thriller comes on you both lose your minds. Neither of you really know the choreography, but you try you try your best to recreate the moves.

The song ends and you hug, laughing the whole time. There’s no way the moves you pulled out for Thriller can be topped so you exit the dance space.

Tyler and you wander around for a bit, stopping to chat whenever you come across someone you know.

Eventually, you find yourselves outside on the back porch. The energy from inside dies down with the quiet outdoors which inspires a walk through the backyard. It’s the perfect fall night: a luminous full moon, the crunch of fallen leaves, and a chill in the air.

Speaking of chill, your costume is thin enough that you get cold within ten minutes. Tyler notices and plops down at the base of a tree. He pats his lap and you sit in between his legs, your back against his chest.

He rubs his hands up and down your arms and you swear that you start to feel heat spread from his hands to your body. It’s weird, almost like magic.

“You look so good tonight,” he says quietly, “You really do. Thanks for coming with me.”

Tyler always makes your heart race when he starts talking like this. You give him a gentle peck on the lips that turns into something more passionate. But you’re still at a party and before things can escalate too far, you pull away. The two of you were content to sit under the tree, whispering and lost in your own little world.

#the covenant #caleb danvers #pogue parry #reid garwin #tyler simms #sons of ipswitch #imagines

67 notes · View notes

whoreforenemiestolovers · 3 years

Text

Unmated | random chapter later on in the fic

Tears of Sadness and Joy | Elain’s POV

(Mature Content Warning)

“I’m so happy for you Nesta,” Elain was hugging her sister, happiness radiating out of her. After the mating ceremony was over, they all went back to the River Manor to celebrate. Elain was happy for her sister, but for some reason she also felt sad.

Elain knows she has a mate but she doesn’t feel anything for Lucien. She doesn’t understand why the Cauldron mated them when her heart belongs to another.

Azriel was standing in the corner congratulating Cassian. Elain kept catching him glancing at her, sending shivers down her spine.

Azriel stood next to Elain at the mating ceremony. He held her hand when tears slipped from her eyes as Nesta and Cassian said their vows. He leaned down and whispered in her ear, “red carnations,” he pulled back, wiping the tears from her eyes. She looked into his eyes and smiled. When Elain looks at Azriel, all she can see is a future with them together. Damn the consequences, Elain always thinks.

“Red carnations,” she whispered back.

They went back to watching the ceremony and Azriel took his hand from hers. She knew it was because Lucien was watching. That was the closest they had ever gotten in front of him. Even though he took his hand from hers, she could feel his shadows brushing up against her, seeking that missing contact.

Now that they are back at the manor, Elain can’t help but feel blue. Not being able to be with the one person she craves has slowly started chipping away at her joy. She is constantly surrounded by the happiness of her family and she can’t help but envy them. Rhysand and Feyre, Amren and Varian, Nesta and Cassian, watching them all together in public without having to hide their romance has hurt her more than she cares to admit. The only times she feels truly joyful anymore is when she is with Azriel. When they lie in fields of flowers and watch the sky, brushing hands. When they visit her father’s grave together and he holds her when she cries. Even just eating a meal with him, his presence lights her up.

Elain walked into the kitchen, hoping to run into Nuala or Cerridwen and ask about a certain cake she wanted to bake for the celebration of the start of summer. Neither were in there so she sat down, needing a break from the company of others, when Lucien strolled in.

“Hey, you seemed upset, is everything okay?” Lucien is always trying to press Elain to talk and she knows eventually she will have to have the conversation with him but she doesn’t want to hurt him, so she avoids talking to him at all.

“I’m fine. I just needed a moment,” truthfully, she cannot stand being in the same room as Azriel without being near him, without talking to him.

“Elain will you ever talk to me? I know you don’t feel grand about the mating bond but we will have to communicate at some point or another.” Elain stared at the table. She knows he’s not wrong, but this is Nesta’s day and she will not have this talk with him on her day. “I’m going to the human lands to meet with Vassa. I’ll be back in three days. Maybe we can talk then.” At that, Lucien walked out of the kitchen, leaving Elain to her thoughts.

~~~

It was around 2 am and almost everyone had turned in for the night. Rhysand had winnowed Lucien to the human lands a couple of hours ago and has now gone to his room with Feyre, Nyx was asleep an hour before that. Amren and Varian had left an hour ago and Nesta and Cassian had just left.

The manor was silent at night so now that she was crying in her room, she knew Azriel could hear her. Standing in front of her mirror, tears streaming down her face, there was a knock on her bedroom door. She strolled over to open it and standing in front of her was the cause of her pain and happiness. She opened the door wider to let him in and the second she shut it, she fell into his arms, crying harder than before.

He stroked her hair and held her tight, trying to sooth the tears, “talk to me Elain. What’s wrong?” She pulled away to look at him, they were sitting on the edge of her bed now.

“I’m happy for Nesta. I really am. I just…” Elain trailed off, sniffling through her words. “I wish we could be happy like them.” Elain looked up at Azriel, “I want everyone to know that you make me happy and I don’t want to hide anymore.” Azriel looked at Elain with sadness in his eyes.

“That’s all I want Elain but we both know why that can’t be,” Azriel took his hands from hers, standing up. He ran his fingers through his hair. “We can’t go there Elain. You know how Rhysand would react. This,” he motioned between them, “us, we would be the cause of wars.”

Elain was now standing, “so let’s start wars,” she took his face in her hands, “I cannot pretend anymore.” His face was now mere inches from hers. They had only kissed a few times since Winter Solstice, every time reminding her why she didn’t care about the consequences. She was looking into his eyes with a deepness she had never comprehended before him, “red carnations.”

Tears were streaming down Azriel’s face as he brought his hands to hers, wiping away her tears, “red carnations,” he responded before bringing his lips to hers.

The kiss was more passionate than any they had ever shared. Elain moaned into his mouth, pressing her body against his, she could feel his bulge against her stomach. He moved his hands down to her waist, pulling her bottom lip between his teeth. She wrapped her arms around his neck, their mouths clashing, silently begging for more. He leaned down to lift her up, carrying her to her bed. She pulled her head back as he laid her down, gazing into his eyes. “Red Tulip,” she whispered.

Azriel shed a tear as he responded, “red tulip.” He moved his mouth to her neck, sucking on her skin, leaving marks to show everyone that she is his, and he is hers. Elain moaned in response, throwing her head back. He grazed his teeth over her neck and gently clamped down, flicking his tongue over her skin.

“Azriel,” she moaned. He pulled back, standing up. Elain propped herself up on her elbows and looked at him with confusion in her eyes.

“I want to please you Elain.” He smirked down at her and she felt heat rising in her belly. “I want to treat you like the goddess you are. I want to make you scream my name.” She could see the bulge through his pants. Elain was at a loss for words so she just shook her head. “Good.”

Azriel grabbed her legs and pulled her forward. She was sitting on the edge of the bed now, Azriel dropped to his knees in front of her, hands on her thighs. He looked up at her while slowly lifting her dress, which was now resting on her upper thighs. He laid a kiss on her thigh, “do you like the sight of me kneeling for you Elain?” Her name was a song on his lips. He kissed the inside of her thigh again. She shook her head to answer him and he smirked at her. “I want to hear you say it. I need to hear you say it.” Heat flushed her cheeks. He was begging her.

He licked her other thigh, sucking the skin hard enough to bruise. “Azriel,” she moaned, throwing her head back. She looked back down at him, “I love the sight of you kneeling before me. The sight of you between my legs.” He growled at her response.

Azriel pushed her back so she was lying with her back on the bed and legs dangling off. He leaned over her, meeting her eyes, “are you sure?” He asked. She only answered with a kiss. Azriel reached down to pull her dress up and off of her. His eyes scanned her body, “you’re so beautiful Elain.”

He kissed her one more time before moving lower. He stopped at her breasts, flicking his tongue over her nipples, biting down on one as she arched her back. He continued moving down, leaving a trail of kisses all the way down to her lower stomach. He lifted his head to look at her, taking in the beautiful sight before him. As she met his eyes, silently begging for him to continue he fell back to his knees, lowering his head to drag his tongue over her sensitive bud. Elain moaned with pleasure, begging him to go faster. And so he did.

Azriel’s tongue was flicking over that bundle of nerves faster and faster. He dragged his tongue down and stuck it inside her, causing her back to arch off the bed. He started dipping his tongue in and out, her hips thrusting up onto more of his tongue. He pulled out licking all the way back up to that bundle of nerves and started sucking, flicking his tongue over her bud. As she moaned in delight, he stuck a finger inside her, sending her hips buckling. She started moving with his hand and mouth, begging for more, so he stuck another finger in, moaning along with her. All Azriel wanted to do was please her and he could tell he was doing that.

Elain’s hands were in his hair, “pull my hair Elain. Move my head like you want it.” He started again and so she did what he said. With her fingers tugging at his hair, she started moving his head faster. Her back was arched and once she had set the pace she wanted him at, Azriel’s shadows wrapped around her hands, pulling them above her head so she couldn’t move.

Azriel’s tongue was flicking her bud over and over again while his fingers were moving in and out of her. He could feel her start to tighten around his fingers, so he sucked harder, dragging his tongue up and down. He removed his fingers and replaced it with his tongue, causing her to come undone. As she climaxed, he kept fucking her with his tongue, the sweet taste of her on him driving him crazy. He pulled out his tongue, licking her from base to top, savoring her taste.

As he pulled back, he moved her fully onto the bed, laying down to hold her in his arms. He whispered into her hair, “the sight of you coming undone almost sent me over the edge.” She looked at him with sadness on her face, “what is it?”

“You didn’t get your pleasure,” she responded.

“I took pleasure in giving you pleasure,” he kissed her head, “I want to go slow and I don’t want to take anything you aren’t ready to give.” He dragged his fingers over her body, admiring the beauty of her, “you truly are a goddess Elain,” and with that they fell asleep.

#acosf #acotar #a court of silver flames #sarah j maas #fantasy #fanfiction #wattpad #elriel #elain and azriel

14 notes · View notes

rae-g · 3 years

Text

Dire Need of a Change: Spring 2 - Go Tunnelers!

Everything hurts. Everything hurts so much.

You managed to drag yourself out of bed long enough to grab a glass of water and pop a few aspirin. Apparently hard labor plus too many beers does not equal a pleasant outcome. You threw on some clean clothes, washed your face, and headed outside.

"Why is the sun so god damn bright?" you cursed as you attempted to shield your eyes. After spending some time watering your pathetic plants, you went back inside and washed yourself off. Your head pounded, your mouth was dry, and everything was miserable. After taking a brief nap, you felt well enough to throw on some comfy clothes, and take a quick stroll. While you aren't exactly the biggest fan of people, it would be good to explore the town a little, and maybe meet some of your new neighbors.

As you made your way past the bus stop, the overbearing aroma of blossoming flowers overwhelmed your senses. Eventually you found yourself in front of the bulletin board at the general store. You poked and prodded through the little notes held up by colorful pins. One note looked like a request for some help, another for a lost item. But was most unusual was the calendar of events that list everyone's birthdays. You hardly remembered your own birthday, much less someone else's. One name did catch your eye though.

Spring 20 - Shane

"Hmm." You'll have to remember to order him something tasty if he's at the saloon that night. You head into Pierre's and start browsing the shelves. The man behind the counter greets you with a friendly, yet generic, word, as you poke around at all the wares.

Fertilizer, retaining soil, speed grow, saplings. Your head starts to spin as you are overwhelmed with fancy labels and information you can't make heads or tails of. Defeated, you finally head over to the counter.

"Hey! It's _____, the new farmer! I'm Pierre, the owner of the local general store." Pierre walked out from behind the counter, and stuck out his hand. "If you're looking for seeds, my shop is the place to go. I'll also buy produce from you for a good price!"

You give it a quick shake, and offer up a small smile. "Pleasure to meet you Pierre. Any chance you can give a greenhorn a bit of advice?"

"Absolutely, what do you need?"

The two of you make your way to the shelves as you start explaining your situation. "So basically, I know practically nothing about anything. I remember growing some sort of bean out of a cotton ball and a film canister when I was really little. That coupled with watching my grandpa work, and occasionally helping to water plants is basically the extent of my knowledge." You smile sheepishly as you realize exactly how little it is you know.

"Well..." Pierre pauses for a moment in front of the shelves, "I do know that the plot of land out there is rather decent, however I bet it could use a little bit of help." He grabs a few cases of the fertilizer and sets them on the ground. "You probably don't have a ton of seeds, so why don't we get you some parsnips so that you will have some crops to harvest quickly, as well as a few beans and potatoes so that you have some harvests later in the season." He continues talking about the different seeds, recommendations for care, the difference between fertilizer and retaining soil. While some of the terminology gets a little lost on you, he usually picks up on this, and tries to reexplain in different words for you. After about an hour, you feel much more educated about your new life, and even slightly more confidant. You thank Pierre and head out with your items and truck them back to the farm.

_______

You worked the rest of the daylight away, following Pierre's instructions to a T. Wiping the sweat from your brow, you smile as your little plot of land is vaguely starting to look like a farm. Well.. maybe less of a farm, and more of a small backyard garden... But everyone has to start somewhere, right? You go scrub yourself down and change into your favorite tee shirt: a 15 year old, limited edition, Zuzu City Tunneler's event shirt. You got it from one of those tee shirt cannons at a special anniversary game, and it is still as soft now as it was then. It's been too long since you have seen them in person, but you always manage to watch them when the play-offs are on.

Throwing on a pair of jeans, and a cozy hoodie, you make your way down to the saloon. You make a promise to yourself not to drink as much as the night before, but you also know that promises to yourself don't always work. The night air was crisp and cool. You've still got awhile before you can adjust from the smells of smog, hot dog carts, and... other questionable scents... to the thick floral and fruity aromas. But at least the air is clean, and it's so much quieter.

Making your way into the saloon, you order two beers, curious if your new drinking buddy will show up tonight. If he does, then you can offer a drink, and maybe chat a bit. If he doesn't, then hey, two beers for you! You wait about ten minutes before opening the bottle. Right as you pop the top off you see Shane walk in, looking disheveled, tired, and bitter. As he walks up to the side of the counter, waiting to order, you slide the unopened beer his way, causing it to softly bump his arm. He turns and looks at you suspiciously as you tip your bottle to him, then take a quick swig. He shrugs, pops the lid off, and takes a drink. Instead of retreating to the corner like the night before, he takes the stool next to you. The two of you drink in silence, casually glancing up at the TV watching the Tunneler's game.

After a few drinks, you tend to get a little more rowdy every time the Tunneler's score. You barely even notice Shane stealing glances at you as you do this. After the last big score, you couldn't help yourself from standing up and cheering. You looked a little crazy, given you were the only one heavily invested in the game, but with your current lack of sobriety, you didn't much care.

"Tunneler's fan, huh?" You look over to your left and see Shane pointing to the TV with the neck of his beer bottle.

"Ever since I was little. I played on Gridball team in high school, but I learned very quickly I was much better at cheering for the team, than playing on one." You sat back down in your seat and polished off the last of your drink.

"I usually try to see a game once a season." He finished his drink in tow, and glanced up at the clock. He pulled out his wallet and threw some cash on the bar. You followed suit and walked out behind him. After giving each other a brief nod, you went your two separate directions.

You may not have made friends with anyone in town, but at least there was someone else who likes Gridball, and you could work with that.

#Stardew Valley #Shane x Reader / Player #Slow Burn #Slow Build #Slow Romance #Depression #Alcohol Abuse #Anxiety #Dire Need of a Change

9 notes · View notes

smol-and-grumpy · 4 years

Text

Sky Full Of Stars - CH07

Sequel to Something Just Like This

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: He’s Dean Winchester, ex mobster boss, still a little cocky, less ruthless and not at all short tempered anymore. Instead, he thinks he’s hilarious (she doesn’t agree, though). They both try to live a quiet life. And Dean hopes, very hard, that his former life won’t come knocking at their door.

Warnings: Really, really fluffy but also there’s angst and a little NSFW

WC: 2957

A/N: The only joy I had today was editing this. So here you go, have two chapters in one day. Happy Friday!

SERIES MASTERLIST

It’s mid-September. The leaves are starting to change their colors, some of them already falling down. Little brown and yellow dots, a stark contrast to the green grass. Dean loves it. Loves when the season changes, loves how he can even smell the air change around him, loves how the leaves crunches underneath his boots.

He’s in his study. It overlooks the backyard, because it’s the room below their bedroom. Y/N’s right above him, she most likely sees the same thing when she looks out of the window into their backyard. They’re lucky with the weather, too, today.

She probably does look out right now. If she does, she’ll see the people mingling, sees the flower arch, sees the little white chairs in front of it. She’ll see Bobby who’s dressed to the nines, nervously reciting his speech. The old man looks different without his cap and plaid shirt.

What she doesn’t see, though, is some people hiding behind the big trees on the outskirts of their property. What she doesn’t see is that there are always cars outside their gate. Cars and people who always have an eye on them.

Gabe set up his company and employed the best of people like Dean asked him to. It seems like everyone knows about it, because almost everyone’s involved, but Dean’s still been too much of a coward to tell her. He knows that he has to one day but not today. To be fair, he also never found the right time to tell her before because she was so preoccupied with organizing a wedding and Dean really didn’t see the point in interfering with her organizing. Didn’t see the point to scare her with it so she would maybe blow the whole thing off. He’ll tell her when the right time comes. He knows he has to.

“Hey,” Cas knocks and opens the door, pulling Dean back from his thoughts.

“Hey Cas,” Dean greets his long time friend.

Cas walks in, closing the door behind him, and walks over to where Dean’s standing by the window, “How are you?”

Dean snorts, “I’m sweating,” It’s true, he’s sweating bullets and hates the feeling, “You know, I thought the birth of Ella was the only time that I’ll feel like this but no, today is right at the top.” Dean takes a breath, braces his hands on the window sill and looks down, “It’s crazy isn’t it? I wanted this. I wanted everything, I got everything and now I’m about to fucking chicken out.”

“Hey,” Cas hushes, places a hand on Dean’s shoulder, “You’ve got this. I mean, I went through it, you can either. You fucking wimp!”

Dean chuckles at that and then there’s a knock before they both look back to see Sam slipping in.

Sam looks at both of them, an amused look on his face, “Hey, you’re still here, I thought you’d run for the hills.”

“Well, he’s about to,” Cas grins, “Got here on time to keep him from doing it.”

“I might have something for ya,” Sam wriggles with his eyebrows and produces a flask from his suit jacket.

“Yes, please,” Dean sighs, takes it and unscrews the flask to take a long swig from it. He squints at the burn and shakes his head as he lets the liquor warm his throat.

Dean’s standing in front of the flower arch, Cas and Sam were standing there with him. He looks into the faces of the guest, sees them all smiling back at him, some nodding. There aren’t many, two handfuls at best.

Y/N told him that she wouldn’t want something big and he agreed. He didn’t want to marry her and make a lavish party out of it. He would have married her in Vegas with the attendance of Elvis, if that’s what she would have wanted. He didn’t actually really care as long as it was him and her. Didn’t care as long as she still wants to.

He never thought that he’d be so nervous though, never thought that he’d be the one who almost chickens out of something he wanted in the first place.

Linda’s sitting in the first row, balancing Ella on her lap. And she still frowns at Dean, that woman probably will never get used to him.

They were doing everything themselves today and every guest takes part in the wedding as they have brought food or baked a cake, Sam offered to be the DJ and Dean’s still not really okay with that.

It’s crazy how Dean has money to rent out the best location with the best of catering but all Y/N wants is something small in their backyard. Looking at it, Dean’s very happy with her choice. All the people that truly matter to him are here and that’s really the most important thing.

“You okay, son?” Bobby asks as they are standing next to each other.

Bobby has gotten ordained so he can perform the little ceremony. He offered it and at first Ash wanted to do it but honestly, if Dean has to choose between Ash or Bobby, the choice is clear. Who knows where Ash would have taken this.

“Okay, here we go,” Ash announces and all the eyes shoot to the back.

Everything and everyone went silent, even the babies who were crying. Or maybe they still did but Dean’s heart is pounding so hard, all he hears is his own heartbeat. He feels hot all of a sudden, and there’s the cold sweat again beading on his forehead.

He sees her, one hand hooks into Gabe’s arm, the other one holding a small bouquet of flowers. There’s a flower crown on her head. She’s wearing a dress in cream, frilly and lacy. She went out dress shopping last week, and wanted to wait until the last moment because she was sure she would lose some weight and Dean doesn’t even know if she lost the weight she wanted because all he knows is that she looks goddamn beautiful.

And Dean doesn’t want to be that guy, he really didn’t. He doesn’t want to cry as soon as he sees the bride but yet, here he is, grinning like an idiot and swallowing down the tears that built up as soon as he saw her.

Y/N looks like a waking dream. Something he has anticipated for so long without even knowing it because the good dreams normally got chased away to make room for his nightmares.

Sam squeezes Dean’s shoulder and leans to whisper, “She looks beautiful.”

Dean agrees.

She really does. The prettiest little thing he did ever see.

He watches her walk down the non-existent aisle, because two rows can’t be counted as an aisle in his opinion, but that doesn’t matter. What matters is how she looks at him when she sees him, how there’s a small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth, and she bites down on her bottom lip. She’s nervous, he can see that. Well, he knows exactly how she feels.

Gabe lets go of her and she stands next to Dean now, looking up.

“You look lovely,” He mumbles, had trouble finding the right words.

“Well, you look hot,” She grins, and Dean almost has to laugh out loud.

“I’m not allowed to kiss you yet, am I?” Dean whispers again, is already halfway to do it but then he stops himself.

Before she could answer him, Bobby takes the lead.

They didn’t exchange vows, neither did they exchange rings. They both have one and that’s more than enough. They’ve talked about the vows thoroughly, and they both agree that they didn’t need anyone to know their feelings or promises for each other. It’s something between the both of them.

“You may now kiss the bride, son.” Bobby announces with a big smile on his face.

“Jesus,” Dean rolls his eyes with a sigh, “Fucking finally,”

Everyone laughs, including Y/N and he weaves his arm around her waist, pulls her closer. She locks her arms around his neck, and Dean looks down, sees her smiling back at him. “Hi Mrs. Winchester,”

“Hello Mr. Winchester,” She winks and laughs, “Now please kiss me, I’m dying here.”

“Always so bossy,” Dean chuckles, and he finally bends down, kisses her. The tense in his body’s gone.

The people around them were cheering but Dean tunes that out, doesn’t hear it. All he hears is his heart that still thumbs ridiculously fast. Dean breaks the kiss after a while, even though he didn’t want to but he guesses that they need to carry on with the day. He pecks her lips once more, though, for good measure and whispers to her, “You’ve had whiskey,”

She grins mischievously, “You too.”

Dean snorts, “Not gonna lie, almost chickened out.”

“Me too,” She says and nuzzles her face into the crook of his neck as they both laugh.

��Why didn’t you tell me, we could have eloped, have taken Ella and drove.”

“I didn’t spend so much time planning it to be running away from it.” She looks up at him.

He shrugs, “Fair point,” Before he takes her hand, and together they walk to their terrace where all of the people were already waiting, having made room for them and left them some privacy after the ceremony.

Y/N draws a bath while Dean’s feeding Ella. The little girl’s on formula now and it actually makes things so much easier. Dean can now get up and take care of Ella and let Y/N sleep. They’re more relaxed since the change, and Y/N’s more content either. She’s had trouble with nursing for the first two months where she didn’t produce enough milk and there was a lot of crying. When they introduced Ella to weaning, they also introduced her to formula. It was the best decision, really and Dean thought that they should have made the choice sooner. They could have spared Y/N from a lot of heartache.

Dean felt helpless during that time, and Y/N felt like a failure, they were both miserable for a long time until she came to him and gestures with her hand before she started to babble, “Screw all the perfect moms, I’m not perfect and that’s okay. My body can’t give her what she needs but that doesn’t mean that I’m not a good mom.”

And he couldn’t agree more with that. Had to talk her into it either because she told him that he should back her up on her decision and honestly, Dean agrees with whatever she wants because she knows her own body better than he does when it comes to breastfeeding. He can’t imagine going through all the hardships of it in the first place. The whole process was draining from the start with raw bloody nipples and leaking and painful breasts. Apparently breastfeeding is not for everyone, and if someone can’t do it, doesn’t really mean that they are a failure or a bad mom because of it.

After the feeding, Y/N takes Ella from Dean and he kisses his girl good night. Dean takes off his clothes, and gets into the tub, leans his head back and closes his eyes.

He’s almost drifting off when Y/N pokes her head in, “Hey,”

She’s smiling at him, still wearing one of his plaid shirts, even if she doesn’t have to nurse Ella anymore. Dean doesn’t complain, he loves the look on her.

“Is there room for me?” She unbuttons her shirt and takes it off, lets it pool around her ankle before she hooks her fingers through the waistband of her panties, slides them down too.

“There’s always room for you,” Dean says in a low voice and she comes over stands naked next to the tub and the sight makes his heart beat just a little faster.

He’s hard too, can not get hard when he sees her, a thing he both loves and hates at the same time.

She gets in, sits on his lap and rests her head on his shoulder. Dean hugs her in the water, trails his fingertips along her body and she wiggles in his laps, feels his hard cock too.

Her face is a little flush and the way she grinds down on him, Dean knows that she’s aroused. Apparently, he does the same thing to her like she does to him, she told him once.

Dean kisses along her shoulder, noses behind her ear.

“Are we supposed to consummate our marriage now?” She asks.

He chuckles before kissing the sensitive place at the back of her ear. “We don’t have to do anything, and honestly, I’m beat, even if my body doesn’t show it.”

“Oh, thank god,” She sighs, “I’m exhausted either.”

They both have to laugh, and she turns her head back, kissing him. It’s all gentle and soft before it starts to grow heavier.

“Baby, you shouldn’t start anything you can’t finish.” Dean warns her, because even if he’s beat, the way she kisses him pushes at all his right buttons.

“‘M sorry,” She says and turns back, but she can’t stop grinding down on him.

“Baby,”

“I know,” She lets out a frustrated sigh, “Like, I’m really tired but what if you just put it in, I just want to feel you inside.”

Dean’s eyebrow climbs up his forehead, “You sure?”

She turns her head back to him, her bottom lip between her teeth and there’s a smile. “Please?”

“You know that I can never say no to you, right? I think you’re misusing your power over me.”

Snorting out a laugh, she kisses the tip of his nose before she lifts her ass up a little to position his dick at her entrance. Slowly she sits down and Dean has to hold in his breath at how fucking good it felt.

But she was true to her words, because she doesn’t move, leans her head back to rest against his shoulder. Dean should mind though, he hates to be teased like this. It’s perfect as it is, though, and strangely, he doesn’t even want more.

He trails his knuckles along her arms, “How are you feeling?”

“Good, just really tired.”

“Me too. Who would have thought that getting married would be so exhausting, huh?”

“Yeah,” She agrees and Dean places a kiss on her temple.

Dean leaves his lips on her temple, mumbles into the kiss, “Okay, I think I’m ready to say my vows, you wanna hear it?”

Y/N looks back and up to him, smiling at him warmly, “Of course,”

“Okay,” Dean clears his throat, and he feels his heart picking up speed again, “You looked so beautiful to me today, but you should know that you always look beautiful to me, and you will always look beautiful. Even when you just wake up and according to you, you look like a truck ran you over. But that’s not true. That’s not what I see when I see you. You’ll look beautiful no matter what, and not only today. Tomorrow too, and the next day, and the day after the next,”

“You’re making me blush,” She says, and turns in his lap enough to be able to bury her face into the crook of his neck.

“Good,” Dean chuckles, before he goes on, “You know that I’ll always be here, right? Always going to be here along the way. I’ll stay beside you, and I’m always here if you need someone to talk, if you need someone to cuddle, even if you need someone to let your frustrations out on. And I vow to stay. Not only because I don’t have anywhere else to go but also because this is it for me. You are it. You’re my home. This is what I always wanted and I didn’t even realize it. If someone would ask to close my eyes and picture happiness, all I see is you and there’s Ella, Truffles too, if he behaves, and Bubbles can go get lost.”

“Hey!” She swats one hand against his chest, splashing water into his face.

“That cat hates me.”

“No it doesn’t.” She’s laughing now and it’s good, Dean thinks. The laughter doesn’t make him tear up as much as he wants to.

“Can I tell you something?” She says then and Dean nods, not without kissing the top of her head.

“Anything,”

“I know that I’m not always easy, I might not always be what you want me to be,”

Dean opens his mouth to protest because she’s basically everything he wants her to be but she hushes him with a glare.

“Okay, I might not always be the best of what I want myself to be. I have doubts, I have insecurities,” Dean nods at that, because she always set such high standards for herself, it sometimes drives him nuts.

“And I might not always agree with you all the time because I’m stubborn,”

Dean snorts out a “Yeah,” And she rolls her eyes at that.

“Anyway, what I’m trying to say is that I might not be perfect, but I vow that I’ll always love you. I love you not only for what you are but also for what you make me, and that is the best possible I can be, and as much as you’re keeping me, Dean? I’m keeping you. You won’t get rid of me that easily Mr. Winchester,” She chuckles and looks up, kissing his scruff.

“Not that I want to, Mrs. Winchester,” Dean mumbles, and leans down to nose at her cheek, kisses her and she kisses him back, smiles against his lips.

CH08

#sky full of stars #dean winchester #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fan fic #dean winchester fan fiction #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #nathalie writes

143 notes · View notes

heyyyharry · 4 years

Text

Chapter 9: Forever Childhood

(from the My Girl Trilogy: Stay Mine)

…in which childhood is not forever, but it doesn’t have to end.

Word count: 8k

AU: actor!Harry, childhood best friends, older!Harry, younger!Y/N, (4-year age gap).

Wattpad link (Thea as Y/N)

What to expect from this chapter: Many flashback scenes and LOTS LOTS LOTS of fluff.

“Knock knock.”

“Dad, you don’t have to say knock knock while actually knocking,” Y/N said without taking her eyes off the laptop screen. The door closed behind her as her dad walked in, squeezed her shoulders and kissed the top of her head twice.

“Why aren’t you with your friends in the backyard?”

“The treehouse’s gone; there’s nothing to do in the backyard,” she said, typing away. “And I’m sorry beforehand if Alice and Niall do something to Marcy’s flowers. Niall probably has never seen a garden as small as ours, and Alice is unpredictably crazy.”

“They’d make a good couple."

“Don’t tell Alice. She’d lose her mind,” Y/N said.

Feeling her dad peering at the screen, she tilted her head back to see his face. “What do you think?”

He leaned forward with both hands on the back of her chair, shaking his head. “A masterpiece. Shakespeare wished he’d come up with this.”

She snorted, leering at him. “From now on, all yours and Harry’s comments about my work are invalid.”

“We’re your biggest fans, Y/N.”

“That’s the problem. Love cancels honesty in this case.”

“Oh, God.”

Her dad spun her swivel chair around so they were face to face as he sat on the edge of her bed, his legs spread wide, elbows resting on his knees. He clasped his hands together in front and cocked his head. “Take a short break and talk to me, will you?”

She drummed her fingers on the armrests. “About my book?”

“Yeah, your book. And, well...boys.”

“Daaaad." She tossed her head back, groaning into her palms like an embarrassed teenager. “If this is about Blake and Harry–”

“Blake Roman,” her dad hissed as if the name was toxic. “I can’t believe you’re hanging out with him again. Is he still riding that stupid motorcycle from high school?”

“No. And Harry also owned a motorcycle, Dad.” He’d also crashed it and ended up in the hospital. There was no way she’d tell her dad about it.

“Well, I’m already biased, so Harry is good no matter what he does," her dad said. "I’m team Harry, by the way. That’s what you kids say, right? Team Edward. Team Jacob.”

Y/N dropped her face into her palms, shaking her head in defeat.

Her dad cleared his throat. “You and Harry are endgame, Y/N.”

“Oh my God, Dad!” She couldn’t help laughing as she looked up, smoothed her hair down and held it at her neck. “Marcy made you watch Riverdale again, didn’t she?”

“I kind of like it now,” he said thoughtfully. “It’s so dramatic. Everyone’s in love with everyone.”

“Yeah. I’m pretty sure the show writers are men your age.”

“That makes a lot more sense.”

“Anyway,” she giggled lightly. “You don’t have to worry about me. I’m team Harry, too; I can’t believe you made me say that.” She rolled her eyes, shaking her head. “Blake and I were a long time ago. I love Harry more than I can put into words.” She leaned back into her chair and puffed out her cheeks. “Though sometimes I feel like I can never be good enough. He’s just this wonderful person who does great things, and I’m just...I’m still trying to figure my life out.”

“And what’s wrong with that?”

She bit a nail. “People don’t think we’re compatible.”

“Do Marcy and I seem compatible to you?”

“You and Marcy are different.”

“How?”

“I don’t know. You just are.”

No couple was like her and Harry, which could be a good thing sometimes. Just not recently. Their conversation last night had made her feel more assured, but there was still this unsettling feeling she couldn’t seem to shake off. She’d told herself it only mattered what Harry thought of her; who cared about the others? As it turned out, she cared. More than she wanted to.

“Your feelings are normal, darling,” her dad said, rubbing the stubble on his chin. “To love is to set down your arrogance and allow yourself to be vulnerable. It proves that your love is worth it. Harry is worth it. And when something or someone is worth it, you have to hold onto them.”

“That’s beautiful, Dad," Y/N said, her eyebrows high. "Mind if I steal the quote for my book?”

“It’s not mine. It was your mother’s,” her dad answered.

A brief silence arose. The last time they’d talked about her mother had been a year ago. It wasn’t because they’d get awkward now that her dad had moved on; but because either one or both of them would get sad. She could deal with awkward. Sadness, however...

“I came to see her last night,” she said, pinching her lower lip.

“I know.”

“Harry told you?” When her dad nodded, a corner of her mouth turned up. “Are you like BFFs with my boyfriend now?”

Her dad let out a short breathy laugh as he rolled his shoulders. “I think I deserved to know when my adult daughter trespassed upon a cemetery.”

“I won’t do that again. Promise,” she said to her hands while picking at her nails. “I just...wanted to feel like a teenager again. Break the rules. Do crazy things without caring about the consequences. It’s dumb, I know. But being an adult has been hard lately.”

“Tell me about it,” he agreed with a growl, and they shared a laugh.

As silence sank in, her eyes darted to his face, considering his aging features. It wasn’t until today that she realised how much older he looked than he had when she moved to London; the wrinkles on his forehead and temples stood out much more; his eyes became wearier, his lips thinner. Those three years were evident on his kind face. It made her sad that he was growing old, and she hadn’t always been the best daughter to him since her mother had passed away.

She was getting older, too.

She pushed herself up, padded over to the bed, and sat down by his side. He folded her into his arms and pressed a kiss to her temple.

“It feels good to be home,” she whispered, cheek against his chest. “I wish I was still a little girl.”

“You are,” he said, stroking her hair. “You’re my little girl. Always.”

“Dad, where’s Mum?”

“She’s with Anne in the backyard.”

“Oh,” Y/N mumbled, frozen at the kitchen door like a Sim stuck in a glitch. It felt weird that her family still hung out with Harry’s now that she and Harry were no longer friends.

She shook her head to put aside the thoughts. “Well, I’m going out now.”

“With Celine and Amala?”

Her dad’s question stopped her before she turned. She leaned against the doorframe, one hand fumbling with the doorknob. “Why does it matter who I hang out with?”

“It matters if it’s that biker boy. What’s his name again?”

“Blake.”

“Yes.” Her dad crossed his arms, his eyes squinted. “The other parents aren’t very fond of him. I’ve heard stories about what he’s done to those girls.”

Blake had a bad reputation with the parents, mainly because he’d broken their daughters’ hearts.

“Well, he hasn’t done anything to me.”

“Yet,” her dad stated, his brows pinched together.

Y/N lifted her shoulder in a half-shrug. “Maybe I’ll break his heart this time.”

“Y/N…”

“Bye!”

She zipped out of the kitchen just in time Blake’s motorcycle roared in the drive. He opened the visor, smiled at her with his eyes, and she mounted his vehicle and put on her helmet.

“As slow as you can,” she said, looking back at the house.

Her dad was watching from the living room window as the motorcycle rumbled to life and drove away.

Y/N was helping Marcy in the kitchen when she looked out of the window and saw Blake’s car in front of their house. The doorbell rang. She cursed under her breath and told Marcy she’d be right back. As she scuttled out of the kitchen, her dad was heading to the front door. She slipped right past him and reached for the handle first.

"Hi, Y/N," Blake said as he greeted Y/N and her dad with a respectful smile. “Good morning, Mr Y/L/N.”

“It’s ‘sir’ to you.”

“Yes, sir.”

Y/N slapped her forehead as her dad gave Blake the firmest handshake she’d ever seen. If Blake had hands like Niall, he’d be in the hospital with broken fingers.

“What gave me the pleasure to finally see you on our doorsteps today?”

“Dad.”

Her dad ignored her when she nudged him with an elbow. “Funny how you’d dated my daughter for two years, and we’ve never had a proper conversation.”

“Forgive me, sir. I was a stupid teenager back then,” Blake said as he rubbed the back of his neck. It was only then that Y/N saw him holding a brown paper box in his left arm.

“Well, let’s put the past in the past,” her dad said, squeezing her shoulder as she shot him a glare.

Blake pointed to his car. “I’m going back to London now. I stopped by to see if Y/N needed a ride.”

Her dad pushed out his lower lip as he turned to her. “You’re going with Harry tonight, right?”

“Yes. But thank you for driving me home yesterday,” she said to Blake. “How’s your grandma?”

“Oh, she’s fine. Turned out she lied about being sick so I’d come home to see her,” he breathed out a laugh and cleared his throat as he held out the box. “She made cupcakes and asked me to bring some to you.”

Before Y/N could answer, her dad took the box and went back inside. She decided to ignore him.

“I can’t believe she remembers me,” she told Blake.

“You were the only girl I’ve brought to see her,” he said.

Not knowing how to reply, she shuffled from one foot to the other, hands clasped behind her back. Blake took it as a sign to end the conversation as he told her he’d see her in London, then returned to his car.

She waited until he started the engine to close the door and came back to the kitchen. Marcy was reorganising their fridge, while Y/N’s dad counted the cupcakes in the box.

“...ten, eleven, twelve.”

He picked one and looked at her. When she waved her hand for permission, he took a bite and released a satisfied hum. She knew Grandma Roman's cupcakes were good; she'd eaten them plenty of times before.

“Good morning!” Harry said like a game show host as he entered from their backdoor and grabbed her from behind. “Girlfriend.” He kissed her cheek before turning to her dad and Marcy. “Bradford. Marcy.”

“There’s my superstar!” Marcy said with a quick glance over her shoulder.

“Want one?” Y/N’s dad held the box toward Harry, who brightened like a kid in a candy store as he leaned forward to grab a cupcake.

“Blake just brought them here,” Y/N told him.

He froze for a second, then took a large bite and started chewing extravagantly. “I’ll eat all of these so you won’t get poisoned by another man's love," he said with his mouth full.

She looped an arm around his head from below and drew his face in so she could whisper in his ear, “Don’t be jealous. I swallow your love all the time.”

His hand instantly flew to her mouth to muffle her giggles when her dad stared at them questioningly. “What is it?”

“Y/N said a bad word," Harry said, his dimple growing.

Her dad jabbed at her with his finger, and she crossed her arms, scowling at Harry. “Teacher’s pet."

Once he finished the cupcake, she dragged him to the living room. Their mouths attached right as they were alone. She snogged him hungrily, back against the wall, fingers in his hair. His massive hands went under her velvet tennis skirt and caressed her arse, while his mouth trailed down her neck, sucking the sensitive spot below her ear. She loved when he paid attention to that spot; it made her toes tingle.

She could hear her dad talking to Marcy about building a birdhouse in their backyard. They’d spend at least an hour on any topic related to the garden, so Harry and Y/N could have sex right on the sofa in the middle of the living room without getting caught. She just didn’t want to risk it, even though that idea was pervertishly exciting.

“My room. Come on.”

“Can’t,” he groaned and held her back by the hips. Her fake shocked expression got him laughing as he kissed between her brows, the tip of her nose, her upper lip. “I miss you terribly, but I still need to talk to my mum.”

“You haven’t?”

“She’d gone out when I woke up,” he sighed and rubbed her pout with his thumb. “I’ll come back to play with you later. Promise.”

She stuck out her tongue, eyes rolled upward. As he kissed her neck and placed his hands on her bum, the sound of someone clearing their throat broke them apart. They saw Alice and Niall watching them judgingly from the kitchen door.

“I ate some of your Blake cupcakes. Hope you don’t mind,” Niall said with an apologetic grin.

“Told ya he was worse,” Y/N said to Harry, who arched his lips in a smirk and kissed her temple before he left. Niall raised his palm, expecting a high-five as Harry strutted by, but Harry high-fived Niall’s forehead instead and disappeared through the front door.

Harry’s mum was crying.

He didn’t know what had happened as he’d just woken up and gone to the kitchen. Gemma had spent the night at her best friend’s place, so there were just him and his mum.

His mum wiped her tears with the sleeve of her jumper and poured black coffee into the ‘No. 1 MUM’ mug – a gift from Gemma on Mother’s Day. Harry stood like a ghost in the doorway, picking at his nails while holding his breath. Like observing a squirrel from a distance, if he made a sound or came too close, it would run away and find a place to hide. His mum wouldn’t run and hide, but she'd fake a smile and act like nothing was wrong. There was nothing worse than wanting to cry but couldn’t.

“Why are you standing there, dork?”

Gemma’s voice made him jump, and his mum shot her head up, looking straight at him like a deer in headlights. Gemma stopped beside him, her mouth formed a silent ‘o’ as she finally caught on to what was happening.

Gemma wasn’t like him. She was straightforward.

“Mum, are you crying?”

Their mum sighed. She gracefully slid into a chair, lifted the mug to her chapped lips with both hands, and blew into her coffee. Harry and Gemma exchanged worrying looks as they walked in. Harry sat on their mum’s left, Gemma on her right. Their mum put down her coffee without having taken a sip and wrapped each arm around each of them.

“I’m sorry you had to see that,” she said, her voice too brittle, like it would break if she spoke any louder.

“Was it something Gemma did?” Harry asked, and Gemma swatted him on the arm.

“It’s ‘He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named’,” she said.

Harry’s heart jumped a little, then he saw the distress on his mum's and Gemma’s face, and his mouth clamped shut before he blurted out something stupid.

Gemma hated their dad. When she was in a good mood, she called him Winton. The other times, she’d refer to him as ‘that man’, ‘You-Know-Who’, or ‘He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named’; she was obsessed with Harry Potter.

Harry felt wrong to still call their dad Dad inside his head. In front of Gemma and their mum, he wouldn’t mention Dad at all. The last time he’d done it, his mum had cried. She didn’t hate his dad; she loved him, which was much worse.

“You two don’t have to worry about me,” she said, looking out of the window by the sink. The sky was grey and turning dark. “This kind of weather makes me tired and moody.” Then she asked Harry, “what would you like for breakfast?”

As he opened his mouth to answer, Gemma interjected, “Is he coming back? Is that why you’re upset? Let me know and I won’t let him come near our house, I–”

“Gemma,” their mother cut her off. “He’s not coming back. He’s never coming back.” Then she paused for an indecisive moment. “A friend of mine saw him in Manchester last night; he was with someone else. His new wife. Maybe his girlfriend. But he’s never coming back.”

Harry didn’t know why she could say something in a matter-of-fact tone and still make it sound so sad. It must have taken her years of practice to act like she was fine when she wasn't.

Before he knew it, a tear had escaped the corner of his eye. He quickly wiped it off his cheek so his mum and sister couldn’t see him cry. He didn’t want to make this moment about him.

Gemma wrapped her arms around their mum’s waist, and he did it too, his arms over Gemma's. They both rested their head against their mother's chest. Being on her left, he could hear the beating of her heart so clearly as if it was his own. If hugs could heal all types of wounds, his mum's hugs could bring a dead person back to life. He would never tell her, though; stuff like this was too dark for her liking.

“We don’t need him; we’re fine the way we are. Just the three of us,” Gemma said. She sounded like she was going to cry, but Harry knew she’d never cry. At least not in front of him.

The last time he’d seen her cry had been a few weeks ago. This boy named Eli had just broken up with her. She’d been in her room. The door had been left unlocked (she must have forgotten to lock it). He’d burst in to prank her with a plastic snake when she shot her head up, mascara running down her face. He’d been frozen when she marched over and slammed the door in his face. They’d never talked about that.

“Just the three of us,” their mum repeated, sounding more cheerful than before as she squeezed them a little tighter. “Now I’m going to make you some eggs, and after breakfast, we’ll grow some new plants in our garden, yeah?”

“Can I use the shovel this time?” Gemma asked.

“She always gets to use the shovel!” Harry objected.

After breakfast, their mum went to the shop and brought home a new shovel.

When Harry returned to the house, he found Gemma sitting with their mum in the kitchen.

With a twitch of her lips, which was meant to be a smile, his mother motioned to the chair beside her and told him to take a seat. His heart was losing its rhythm as he padded around the table to sit on her left.

“I’ve told her,” Gemma said right as he opened his mouth. Mouth still open, he glanced at his mum, who brought a hand to his face and cupped his cheek.

“You might think I’m angry at you, but I’m not, Harry,” she said. “I can’t stop you from wanting to take him back. He’s still your father.”

“He’s not our father. He’s Winton,” Gemma said, eyes piercing at Harry. “Tell her.”

He couldn’t. And his mum knew it. She batted Gemma’s request away with an easy wave of her hand and said, “Your brother is entitled to his own feelings, Gem. Besides, Winton–” it was the first time he’d heard her say that name “–has paid for our losses with his own. I don’t think I can ever forgive him for what he’s done to us, but I do feel sorry for him. And I think Harry has done the right thing by treating him and his daughter with kindness. And Gemma, you have also done the right thing by being protective of your brother.”

“I was protecting all three of us.” Gemma pouted like a little girl as she snuggled into their mother’s arm.

“It’s always gonna be the three of us, Gem,” their mother said, stroking their hair tenderly. “No matter who comes and goes in and out of our lives. We’re together forever. You’re always gonna be my babies. Nothing is going to change that.”

When Harry heard a sniffle, he almost didn’t pay attention, until he saw Gemma covering her eyes, her shoulders rising and falling unsteadily.

She was crying. What had happened? Was it because of him? Oh no, what had he done?

“Ashton broke up with me,” she muttered in sobs.

“Son of a bitch!” Harry half-shouted. Their mum shot him a disapproving glare, which he ignored as his hands squeezed into fists, clenching so hard his knuckles turned white. He felt like he could punch a hole in the wall or kick a chair to release his anger.

The last time he’d seen Gemma cry, she’d cried over an asshole. Now she was crying over another asshole. This time must be worse because she didn’t lock herself in a room. Her tears just came falling, and they didn’t stop.

Harry didn’t know much about Asher because Gemma barely talked about her relationships. But he’d always sensed something douchey about that rich bloke.

“Was he cheating on you?” he asked.

“No.” Gemma shook her head. “It’s nothing like that.” She kept her face down and rubbed her eyes with the heel of her palm. “It’s not an official break up. He asked for a short break…”

“Fucking asshole.” Harry exhaled sharply, his lip drawn back in a snarl. “Do you want me to talk to him?”

“No, Harry, please. I don’t want you to do anything. Just–” she halted to suck in a rapid breath “–I just want you to know. Please don’t do anything.”

His stomach twisted as he got up and wrapped his arms around his mum and Gemma. When he was small, he’d wished to be older and bigger, so he could hold them both at once and protect them from all the bad things in the world. Now that they fit so perfectly in his embrace, the best he could do was simply be their shoulder to cry on.

Isaac should have knocked.

Three sets of eyes fell on him like he’d committed a crime in broad daylight. He was about to apologise and return to the living room when he caught a glimpse of Gemma, and noticed the faint black smudges below her bottom lashes.

She’d been crying. Harry looked like he needed a punching bag. And Anne was staring blankly at her coffee cup.

It wasn’t because of Isaac, was it? Had Gemma told them what had happened that day outside the coffee shop? And yesterday in the car. And last night, when she brought him an extra blanket before bed. All they’d done was kiss, and yet he felt like he’d ruined her life. He wouldn’t be surprised if Harry tackled him to the floor right this instant.

It was Gemma who got up first. She blinked rapidly as if to hold back her tears and brushed past him out of the kitchen.

“There you are, Isaac,” Anne said as she pushed away from the table. “Sit. I’ll make you breakfast.”

“Thanks, Anne. You’re the best,” Isaac said and pulled up a seat across from Harry.

Isaac could see his snowball of lies rolling straight downhill at full speed, and right before it crashed down on him, Harry broke the silence.

“Did Gem say anything to you on the drive here?”

“No, she didn’t,” Isaac said. “Did something happen? Was she crying?”

Harry furiously raked his fingers through his hair. “That son of a bitch broke up with her.”

“Asher?”

“Yeah.”

“When?”

“Before she came here with you, I think. She didn’t say anything at all?”

“No.” Isaac shook his head, his right fist tightened on his knee under the table. They’d kissed three times, and she hadn’t bothered to tell him about the breakup.

At least now he knew the killer look on Harry’s face had been for Asher, not him. And only his first kiss with Gemma had been wrong; even when it had felt everything but.

“Mum, I’m going to Y/N’s,” Harry announced, then came to give Anne a kiss before he left.

Gemma knocked on the door of Harry’s dorm room, fingers clutching the hem of her shirt.

Maybe she should have let him know she’d come to London. She’d been afraid he’d say he was busy. She had to see him. Not to talk about her recent breakup, of course. Harry didn’t know about the guy because she never told him.

Her friends had warned her beforehand that this relationship was going to go sour, and as always, she hadn’t listened. She didn’t want to come to them and whine about it now; they’d punish her with endless I told you so’s.

When the door swung open, it wasn’t Harry.

A tall blond-haired lad asked Gemma whom she was looking for. He looked like a human Ken doll and smelt like a Calvin Klein holiday pop-up. Her mind stuttered for a whole second.

“Sorry, I must have come to the wrong room.”

“Wait. Gemma, right?” he asked, pointing a finger at her. “You’re Harry’s sister.”

“Does Harry live here?”

“Yes, I’m his roommate. Isaac.” He opened the door wider and nodded his head inside. “Come in. Harry will be back soon.”

She reluctantly entered. The room was neat and had a mild floral scent, which made her doubt her brother actually lived here; his room at home was always a pigsty. When she saw his guitar in the corner of the room, her shoulders rounded with relief.

Isaac sat on the bottom bunk and beckoned her over. She did as she was bid and took a seat in the chair across from him.

“He didn’t know you were coming?” he asked.

“No. I wanted to surprise him.” It didn’t matter if it wasn’t the truth. She barely knew this lad anyway.

Isaac looked away, his lips pressed together as he drummed his fingers on the mattress. The conversation turned sour. Neither knew what to say. Gemma scanned her eyes around the room, desperately wanting to find a topic to discuss so they wouldn’t have to stay silent until Harry returned. Fuck, she hated small talks.

“You’re a photographer?” she asked as soon as she spotted the expensive cameras displayed on the shelf by the bunk bed.

“I major in Photography.”

“Wicked.”

He chuckled at her awkward comment. His eyes were even bluer and clearer than the ocean. Was that a dimple she saw? Shit, had she been staring?

“What do you study, Gemma? You’re a student, right?”

“I major in Economics,” her voice was so soft it sounded like she was embarrassed by the answer. She wasn’t. This guy was just really attractive, and attractive people intimidated her.

“So you’re really smart,” he said, a line appeared between his perfectly even brows.

“People who do arts are really smart, too.”

“I never said we aren’t.” He lifted his shoulders. “But in my opinion, economists are up here on the 'really smart' scale.” He raised his hand above his head, which got her beaming. “I can’t deal with numbers. They make my head hurt,” he added. “Harry, on the other hand, is excellent at those sorts of things. And somehow he wants to become an actor.”

“I know right? I hate how almost perfect he is,” Gemma groaned. “But he’s a very messy person. Has he been a terrible roommate?”

“He’s actually pleasant to live with. My last roommate always had sex while I was in the room,” Isaac said with a look of disgust. “I used to have the upper bunk. One night I thought there was an earthquake until I heard them moaning.”

“Oh my God,” she exclaimed, covering her mouth and giggling lightly.

Isaac pretended to shiver with his whole body. “I get goosebumps just thinking about it. When I moved to this room, I went straight to the bottom one,” he said, patting the empty spot beside him.

Another moment of awkward silence passed by.

“I’m just thankful that Harry doesn’t bring girls back here," Isaac said. "Some nights he doesn’t come back at all, so it’s like I’ve got this room all to myself.”

Gemma rolled her eyes. “When he was at home, he always snuck out in the middle of the night. He was such a ladies man.”

“Still is.”

“Oh no!” Harry’s voice made their heads shoot to the door. “How long have you two been talking about me?”

“Not long enough,” Isaac answered as he pushed himself up and grabbed his black camera bag on the desk beside the bed. To Gemma, he said, “When we meet again, I expect more of his embarrassing stories.”

“Hurry the fuck up, Isaac.” Harry aggressively clapped his hands like Gordon Ramsay on those cooking shows. “Lindsey is waiting downstairs. And she told me to tell you to hurry the fuck up.”

Of course Isaac had a girlfriend. Gemma didn't expect anything and still, she was disappointed. She bet his girlfriend looked like a Barbie doll.

“Coming, coming.” Isaac threw the bag over his shoulder and saluted Gemma as he walked backwards toward the door. “Hope to see you again soon, Gemma,” he said, his little dimple popping again.

There must be something wrong with her. Gemma was sure of it.

She sat on her childhood bed, back against the headboard, chewing on her nail. Despite having stopped crying a while ago, her eyes still felt too heavy as more tears threatened to spill at any moment.

She heard a knock on the door, and assumed it was her mum because Harry never knocked (when he did, never so gently). Too bad, it wasn't her mum.

Isaac lifted a hand awkwardly to say hi when she opened the door, a boyish grin stretching his rosy lips. He had what she liked to call (in her head) ‘a secret dimple’. Hers and Harry’s dimples would go all out with only a slight twitch of their mouths, while Isaac’s dimple was reserved for certain people – those he cared a bit more than the others to smile a bit wider so his dimple became visible. It always was when he saw her.

She decided not to think too much about it.

“Your mum told me to tell you to come downstairs for breakfast,” he said.

Had anyone told him he looked like a Ken doll?

“I’ve already eaten with Harry this morning.” She rubbed her forearms while avoiding eye contact. “Anything else?”

God, she sounded like a bitch. It’d sounded less rude in her head.

“Are you okay?” he asked, unbothered by her obnoxious attitude. As she took too long to answer (she wasn’t going to, anyway), he went straight to the point. “Why didn’t you tell me that you and your boyfriend broke up?”

“We didn’t actually break up, he–” broke up with me “We took a short break.”

“After you’d told him about us?”

“No. I haven’t got a chance to.”

She couldn’t believe she was lying to Isaac. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise as she hadn’t been truthful to anyone since Winton had returned, not even to herself. She’d said she didn’t want to see him; she’d lied. She’d said she couldn’t understand why Harry could forgive Winton; she’d lied. She’d said she’d been in a happy relationship; she’d lied. She’d said she didn’t like Isaac, not like that; she’d lied.

She’d been lying so much it got easier and easier each time. Now it was impossible to stop.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Isaac repeated the question she’d tried to avoid.

“Didn’t feel like it was important,” she said to her feet.

“Wow, okay.”

She looked at him through her lashes. His secret dimple was gone. His jawline turned sharper as he tried not to frown.

“You know what? Forget it,” he sounded out of breath as he dropped his head and rubbed the corner of his eye with a finger. She pulled on his sleeve, and he backed away, still gazing at the floor.

“I’m done with whatever this is, Gem,” he said. “I’m tired of being somebody’s temporary something. Second choice, an opportunity, a rebound, whatever you call it.”

She knew what he meant. Y/N had chosen Harry over him. Gemma didn’t know much about his relationship with Emilia, but that girl had exploited Isaac’s kindness. He was too nice for everyone, especially Gemma.

“It’s me, Isaac. I’m the problem,” she said before he turned away, closing her eyes as it felt like she was talking to herself and not to him. “I think something’s wrong with me.”

“What are you saying?”

She allowed herself to look at him. His doll-like lips curved into a frown. All she could think about was how pretty he looked.

“I’m messed up,” she mumbled, pointing to the left side of her chest. “In here…

“I’ve spent my whole life chasing after men who reminded me of my dad. I throw myself into relationships in which I have to fight for a man’s love and attention. And when there’s someone who genuinely cares about me, I push him away because I don’t feel like I deserve it. I hurt people who love me and cry over the ones who don’t. And you’re the last person I want to hurt because…

“Because you’re the best of them all.”

After this, Isaac might never look at her the same way again. The last guy she’d opened up to had told her she’d had daddy issues and needed therapy, which wasn’t entirely wrong though he could have been nicer about it. Isaac, however, would never say such things.

“I also feel that way,” he said after a moment’s silence.

She nodded, biting her lower lip. She thought she knew what he meant, until he added, “You’re the best of them all, Gem.”

Her eyes shot at him, and his secret dimple reappeared. Before she could restart her brain, he took one large step, his long arms draped around her.

“Want some help with that?”

Harry’s head snapped up, his eyes widened at the man in his drive. He recognised the man right away. That was his neighbour. Y/N’s dad.

Harry had only talked to Y/N's mum because Y/N's dad – with a squared stern face and angry brows – reminded Harry of his Biology teacher. Mr Johnson hated Harry because Harry barely passed most of his exams. But Bradford barely knew Harry beside the fact that Harry lived next door and was friends with Y/N.

Harry shifted his eyes between his bicycle lying defeatedly on the lawn and back at Bradford, who was still waiting for an answer. Harry wanted to say he got this. But his hands were covered with the ‘black stuff’ from having spent the last hour trying to tighten the chain on his bicycle.

Bradford broke into a toothy smile – which changed his entire face (in a good way) – and walked across the yard toward Harry.

Harry stepped aside, hands in his trousers pockets as Bradford got down on one knee and observed the crime scene. Harry felt like he should report what had happened though it was obvious. “The chain is too loose. It keeps coming undone while I ride.”

“I see.” Bradford slapped his hands on his thighs and pushed himself upright. He mimicked Harry’s posture with both hands in his pockets as he cocked his head toward his house. “Bring it to my garage. I’ll fix it.”

Harry stumbled over the bicycle, picked it up and rolled it after Bradford.

Y/N had always complained about her dad and described him as somewhat apathetic and narcissistic. Now that Harry had interacted with Bradford, he thought Bradford was pretty cool. Probably because Harry didn’t know what it was like to have a dad who didn’t only fix his bicycle, but also taught him how to maintain and clean it.

He wished Bradford would play football with him and take him fishing, too.

“I admire you, Harry,” Bradford said as he sat on a tool and wiped his greasy hands with a tattered rag. “It’s Harry, right?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Call me Bradford.” Bradford smiled again. He looked like the Joker when he smiled. Not in a creepy way; his smile was just really wide and his teeth were really neat and white. Maybe he hated smiling because those teeth could blind people.

“I can’t. My mum would scold me.”

“You’re a good kid, Harry,” Bradford said as he clasped Harry’s bony shoulder with his large hand. “And I admire you because Y/N is really fond of you. It’s hard to get close to her, but you’re different. She never listens to me but would do anything you say.”

Bradford made it sound like Y/N was a little monster while she was the total opposite. When Harry thought of her, he thought of candy floss and daisies, and vanilla; she smelt like vanilla, and he loved vanilla.

“I really like Y/N,” he said, and when Bradford’s bright smile began to dim, Harry quickly added, “As a friend, sir. She’s like my little sister.”

To be honest, Harry didn’t think of Y/N as his little sister. She talked like a kid his age (only more naive), and he’d already got a sister. He and Gemma didn’t get along as well as he and Y/N did. He wasn’t sure what Y/N was to him. Definitely not a sister.

Bradford didn’t comment on what Harry had said. He patted Harry on the arm, got up and pointed to the bicycle. “If there’s any more problem, bring it to me.”

“Yes, sir,” Harry said, nodding quickly.

“I think it’s so cute that yours and Y/N’s family decided to build a gate between your backyards,” Alice said as soon as she saw Harry. She and Niall had brought the wooden chairs from the veranda outside to sit beside the tiny tree, which had grown about thirty centimetres since Harry’s mum had planted it.

Harry towered over to Niall and Alice while they sat like The Thinker, contemplating the plant as if it would grow legs and dance for them if they waited long enough.

“You really have nothing to do, huh?” he asked, holding back a laugh.

“Is this where you first met Y/N?” Alice asked him.

“Yeah.”

“You two should get married here,” Niall said.

“How tall will this tree be when you two finally get married?” Alice asked.

“Don’t know.”

“Ha!” Alice stabbed a finger at him. “You have thought about marrying Y/N.”

“Please let me know when you propose.”

Harry whipped around. It was a male voice so he didn’t know why his heart nearly burst through his chest thinking Y/N had heard the conversation.

Bradford stopped beside Harry and clasped Harry’s shoulder. “Got time? I need some help with the birdhouse.”

“Oh, you’re building it today?” Harry asked.

“Yup. You’re leaving tonight and I need help.”

They crossed the fence to the wooden shed in Bradford's backyard, which he’d built after the storm that had knocked down the tree.

There wasn’t a lot of work to do with the birdhouse. Harry had built one for an art project back in middle school; it was pretty simple. Bradford had only asked for his help so they’d finish quicker.

Harry cut the large piece of wood into different parts, and drilled holes into each of them so Bradford could sand the edges of the newly drilled holes.

“I can’t believe I used to fix your bicycle. Now you’re doing all the heavy work, and you’re dating my daughter," Bradford said.

“Dating Y/N is hard work, too, sir.”

“What?”

Harry stopped abruptly, his face pallid. “No, that was a joke, I–”

“Just messing with you.” Bradford laughed and motioned him to continue. “Y/N is hard work. So headstrong, just like her mother. But I think you’ll be fine with her. She’s different with you.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Stop calling me sir. It’s Bradford.”

“Bradford,” Harry said.

“Good.” Bradford flashed his Joker smile, his teeth still as bright as they’d always been.

“So how’s the thing with your dad?” he asked while they were assembling the pieces together. Harry raised his brows, taken aback. “You don’t have to answer, by the way,” Bradford added. “Y/N didn’t tell me. Niall Horan did.”

Harry snorted. “You don’t have to call him Niall Horan. Just Niall.”

“Marcy kept calling him Niall Horan because she’s obsessed with him. I can’t just call him Niall.” Bradford stood straight and started stretching, his back made a pop. “Anyway, forget that I asked.” He stepped back, hands on his hips as he admired their finished work. “What do you think?”

“We should paint it,” Harry said.

Bradford stuck out his lower lip, rubbing his chin like an artist in a gallery. “Yeah. Maybe tomorrow. Y/N would kill me if I kept you here for too long.”

“Where is she?”

“Bedroom. Serious writer mode.”

Harry nodded understandingly as he wiped his dusty hands with a cloth. “I just told my mum about him. My dad."

“How did it go?”

“Better than I expected. She was fine with him coming back into our lives. I don’t know if she was just saying that or…”

“I think she meant it,” Bradford said. “It’s been twenty years, hasn’t it? And Anne is one of the most forgiving and loving people I know. You and Gemma are adults now; it’s fair that you get to make up your own mind.”

Harry pursed his lips. “You’re probably right."

“Anyway.” Bradford waved dismissively. “Thanks for your help. Now go check on Y/N.” Then he jabbed at Harry, his face stern again. “I trust you not to follow her into a cemetery again.”

“Never again, sir,” Harry said, straightened like a soldier.

Y/N stirred awake when she felt a warm body snuggling her from behind. She didn’t have to look to know it was Harry; his ‘Harry’ scent, which she was shamelessly addicted to, couldn’t be mistaken with anything else.

He held her waist tighter, pressed his face into her hair and said in a raspy voice, “Hi, baby. Sleep well?”

“I can’t believe I fell asleep,” she groaned and flipped over to face him, slipping her hands under the pillow. “How long have you been watching me sleep, Edward?”

A corner of his lips rose at the Twilight reference. He rubbed her stomach and trailed his hand under her shirt. His warmth against her cool skin made her shiver.

“Actually, your dad told me to go check on you.”

“Hmm. Did he give you shit for taking me to the cemetery last night?”

“Psst. He knew you forced me to go.”

“You’re trying to steal my dad. Not cool, Harry.” She scrunched up her nose which made him laugh. He brushed her hair out of her face and pressed a kiss to her cheek.

“Been writing?”

“I pulled an allnighter.”

“I knew it,” he said, probably to himself. “Why do you keep working on the story, though? I thought it’d been finished and sent.”

“Sent to Laura, who sent it right back.”

“Why?”

“Because it wasn’t good enough.”

“She said it was good,” Harry said.

Y/N flipped onto her back and placed her arm over her forehead as he propped his head up in his hand. “Not good good. Not ready-to-publish good,” she said tiredly.

“It’s the story of us. It’s good good.”

She squinted her eyes at him. “If you’re suggesting that I use your name for PR–”

“What? No. Why do you always think the worst of me?”

“You tell me.”

He rolled his eyes and snorted at her pouty face. “What I meant was, it’s a story about us, so it's good the way you wrote it.”

She flipped onto her stomach, cheek in her hand as she blew out her cheeks. “After all the changes I've made, it’s not the story of us anymore.”

“Is it supposed to be a good thing.”

“If I get published. Yeah.”

“Why do you want to get published?”

“Because I want to become a real writer?” She looked at him funny. Did he really ask her that?

“You are a real writer, Bambi,” he said softly and tucked a strand behind her ear. “So when you get published, it should be your original story. Childhood doesn’t last forever, but in your world…” he poked at her chest “...it does…

“And our childhood was too beautiful to be contaminated by those commercialised inputs. I want our children to read it and see us. Not some fictional characters who are nothing like us.”

“Our children?” She wiggled her eyebrows.

“Our separate children because we’ll obviously marry other people,” he joked and she playfully shoved his head into the pillow.

She climbed on top of him to straddle his waist and brought his palm to her cheek. He stroked it with his thumb. “I love when you say things,” she said. “You should be a writer.”

“But I’m not.” He slipped his hand free to boop her nose. “You are. You’ve always been. And I’m your biggest fan.”

“You’ll have to compete with my dad for that position.”

“Oh?” He pretended to look worried. “Okay then, between you and me, I’m your biggest fan.”

Harry had fallen asleep with his head on Y/N's shoulder. He’d asked if he could stay and watch her write. “You look sexy when you momentarily forget I exist,” he’d joked. Fifteen minutes later, he was snoring.

She carefully propped his head on a pillow, put down her laptop, and slid out of bed, taking her phone with her. Once she was outside her room, she closed the door and called Laura.

“Yes, my favourite client of all time?” Laura said cheerfully. She always said that, but Y/N didn’t think she meant it.

“Hey, Laura. About my book, I...uhm...I was wondering if it’d be okay if we...you know...discuss the changes again? To be honest, I don’t feel comfortable with most of them.”

“Y/N,” Laura stressed the name like it was the hardest word in the dictionary. Y/N bit her lip as she braced herself for a long speech of ‘trust me, I’m your agent’. But then Laura said, “You’re the writer. I may have given you a bunch of notes, but they were just suggestions. You’re the decision-maker here. It’s your story, and it’s good. That’s why I wanted to work with you in the first place.”

Y/N’s heart leapt as she pressed a fist to her forehead.

“Send me an email of the changes you’d like to make. We’ll discuss when you get back to London, okay?”

“Thank you. Thank you so much!” Y/N brightened. She couldn’t wait to tell Harry and her dad. They would get so excited and smug and probably tell her, ‘I told you to believe in yourself’ or some cheesy shit like that.

She loved her goofy men.

“This is why you’re my favourite client, Y/N,” Laura said before they ended the call. “You always know what you want.”

#harry styles #harry styles writing #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfics #harry styles fanfictions #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles series #my girl series

194 notes · View notes

itsunclebucky · 4 years

Text

The Bride of Bucky

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Weddingplanner!Reader Summary: Bucky marries you, his girlfriend who works as a wedding planner and planned their wedding. Word Count: 2,402 Warnings: FLUFF, a little talk about sex but nothing explicit. A/N: It’s @the-ss-horniest-book-club surprise AU and I was given permission to use this for the challenge. Thank you so much and hope everyone enjoys it!!

As Bucky stood in the floor-length mirror, adjusting his tie for the hundredth time that morning, he remembers how it all started and how he became the world's luckiest man.

He once believed that once Hydra had control of his mind and made him their personal puppet and killing machine it would be the end for him. He was just waiting for the day to die.

He never expected to unknowingly run into his long lost friend Steve Rogers during a mission to take the targets down and he didn't expect Steve to help him.

And he didn't expect Shuri to reboot his memory in Wakanda where he healed successfully, for the first time feeling healthy and happy.

Steve and Tony had sat down and put their differences aside, Tony accepting the fact that Bucky didn't know what he was doing at the time Hydra had control of his mind, and subsequently offered Bucky a room at the compound where he stayed for a while.

He had total freedom, he was allowed to leave the compound whenever he wanted, roam the city whenever he pleased. He wasn't trapped in his room like an animal and how Hydra had once treated him.

Bucky had left the compound early that morning to grab some coffee and something tasty he liked to eat as he walked around the city, visiting old neighborhoods and diners he once knew of.

As he stepped in the small cozy cafe, he allowed an old frail woman with her Walker goes in front of him. The delay in the queue allowed him to look around the cafe and that's where he saw you, huddled up in a corner with umpteen folders and your computer, he watched as you typed away with your nose scrunched up. He was curious about what kind of work you did, why you needed so many folders.

And then your phone rang and you had answered it. "Hi, Y/N speaking." Your voice was like music to his ears. His heart strummed in his chest as he listened to you talking about the different kinds of flowers you recommended for a big day. He didn't understand, he was still learning about everything. As you hung up, your eyes glanced in his direction.

A blush crept up to your cheek as you smiled in his direction. You didn't recognize him and never saw someone so handsome.

"Sir?" The person standing behind Bucky tapped him on the shoulder and pointed to the barista standing behind the counter patiently with a smile on her face, waiting for his order.

"Sorry, was another planet." He chuckled nervously. The barista smiled and he relaxed. He wasn't sure how he would handle being yelled at in front of you for daydreaming. "Can I get an almond milk latte and whatever that lady over there ordered?" He pointed in your direction and your gaze dropped to your keyboard. You couldn't tear your eyes away from the adonis of a man. His eyes captivated you and you didn't even know his name. His beard lined his cheeks beautifully and you wanted to run your fingers through his hair because it looked so inviting.

You were replying to an email to try and distract yourself. But from your peripheral, you could see the man approaching you.

You stopped typing and looked up at him, smiling.

"Uh, I'm sorry to bother you but you seemed really busy and thought you would be in the need of a hot chocolate." He smiled sheepishly, lowering your cup by your hand.

"Thank you so much. That's so kind of you." You motioned for him to sit down in the seat opposite you. Work was forgotten for over an hour as you talked to the man who called himself Bucky.

He found out a lot about you, about your job. You were a wedding planner and by the looks of it a very successful one. He listened as you talked about why orchids were a better choice for a wedding. And you had for some reason told him your dream wedding.

"It'll happen one day." He reassured you.

You chuckled and shook your head. "Not without a boyfriend it won't."

Bucky's eyes grew wide in surprise. He was expecting you to be in a relationship, which he realized he probably should have asked at the beginning before he started to chat you up.

"If a man is too blind to be with you doll, they aren't worth your time."

It was almost midday when Bucky looked at the time and he had to reluctantly say goodbye. He couldn't believe he was sat talking to you for hours. He didn't leave without your number though.

The texts started out friendly, and then they became flirty the longer you talked to him.

His confidence grew as he was remembering how to talk to a woman, but also leaning to type with one hand on his iPhone Wanda had very generously gifted him a few Christmases ago.

After a couple of weeks of flirting, Bucky had asked you out on a date. Which you very excitedly accepted and couldn't wait for.

Tony had worked his magic and booked a reservation at a top restaurant in Manhattan. During dinner, you had learned a little more about Bucky. His metal arm didn't once bother you and you made sure to let him know you weren't afraid of it or him.

One date turned into five dates and you were dating each other officially.

He confessed to you everything that happened in his past. He didn't want to enter a relationship without you knowing. The things he did, the regret and guilt he still feels. You assured him that whatever happened in the past is in the past. He was a new man and this is a new chapter.

The Winter Soldier was a different man to Bucky Barnes. Bucky was sweet, kind and considerate with a lot of sass and a great sense of humor.

For every day he was with you, there wasn't a day that went by where he didn't have a smile on his face or laughed.

Bucky wanted to take it slow and you were happy to comply since it was his first relationship in a long time.

But by your 8-month mark, Bucky was already living with you in your apartment.

"Sam is driving me crazy doll, making sex jokes and asking if I can 'still get it up'." He announced as he walked in the door with his duffel bag and another bag full of his DVDs.

"Why does he want to know that?" You laughed as you pecked his lips.

"Maybe he's jealous?" He laughed with a shrug. "He's a strange guy."

You chuckled and said it was alright and it was. You would be lying if you said you didn't enjoy his company and you felt safer with Bucky around.

Two years into your relationship and you were still happy together and in love.

As much as it shocked you, it shocked Bucky more but the two of you never fought. You were perfectly in sync and shared the same taste in style, food, drink, and art. There were no arguments about who washed the dishes, who cooked because whoever did one, the other person would do the other.

And judging by your complete happiness. It was absolutely no surprise when Bucky finally asked you to marry him on the rooftop of the compound surrounded by his closest friends and teammates.

Almost as if he had predicted your answer, Tony went to great lengths setting up fairy lights, candles, and expensive champagne.

It was Bucky's favorite memory because the two of you didn't get out of bed afterward for a good couple of days, celebrating a new step in your relationship.

It was your decision to plan your wedding. Because of your organization skills, you didn't trust anyone to do it. You were a perfectionist and this was your special day, it was Bucky's special day and it had to be just perfect.

The date was set for 9 months. And because you were so organized, your dress was already picked out and you had the arrangements set up for his suit.

Because Wanda, Nat, and Pepper became close friends to you. The invitation for them to be your bridesmaids was an easy decision to make. And they were overjoyed with happiness.

As the day got nearer and nearer, your nerves were through the roof.

Bucky had watched as you paced back and forth your living room, close to tears as the photographer had canceled on you at the last minute.

The wedding was in 2 days and there was no way on this planet you would find another photographer this close to the date.

"It's a disaster! We're not going to have any photos to show our kids. Oh my God, what do we do!" A sob broke out as you hung up the phone. Bucky stood and wrapped you in his strong arms and shushed you.

"It's gonna be ok, doll. I promise. You've worked so hard, go and run yourself a hot bath, relax and let me find a last-minute photographer." He insisted, leaving no room for arguing.

The bath had relaxed you, and Bucky took care of you in the night. Assuring you he had found a replacement but didn't say who it was, but you trusted Bucky.

On the morning of the wedding, you were shaking as you sat in your bathrobe in the hotel room in front of the mirror, having your hair and makeup done professionally. Your flowers had arrived on time, the girls were getting ready, everything was going according to plan.

You and Bucky decided to stick to the traditional way and spend the night apart. The first night he had spent away from you and he wouldn't do it again. He missed you and he was worried about you. He started overthinking the reasons why you would leave him but Steve quickly quieted his thoughts.

"I see the way she looks at you Buck, there is no way she would stand you up," Steve said, squeezing his shoulder as they got ready in their tailor-made suits.

"I love her so much." Bucky chuckled with tears in his eyes. He would carve his love for you over his heart if he wasn't afraid of needles.

"And she loves you. Enjoy the day, relax."

As the boys back at your shared apartment got ready. You were ready to slip into your dress. It was a gorgeous white lace dress, and it was one of your dreams. Even after you had spent hours upon hours searching Pinterest for dresses, they never compared to this one.

Your dress was tightened, and your veil was attached. You had half an hour to go before you needed to go to the venue.

You hoped Bucky didn't change his mind. Your love for him so was pure, ever since the day, you laid your eyes on him in the cafe. You couldn't imagine your life without him now.

He took care of you, took care of each other.

Bucky was the first to arrive. He walked down the aisle, greeting, smiling and thanking friends and family for coming. He waited by the priest, with Steve, Sam, Clint and Tony standing behind him. Everyone had a smile on their face. He was just waiting to see you.

With each second that passed, his heart beat faster. Then the doors opened, the music started to play and your bridesmaids walked down the aisle first and waited on the bride's side.

His eyes were fixated on the door. He gleamed when he saw you walk through them in your gorgeous dress. Flowers in your right hand, your left hand-linked around your father's arm as he walked you down the aisle.

You kept your eyes on your Bucky. And you couldn't believe how handsome he looked. His suit, his white flower pinned on the left side of his blazer. His hair slicked back and tied at the nape of his neck. He had shaved his beard and was left with stubble, one you couldn't wait to feel later tonight.

Everyone around you was invisible and each step you took towards him felt longer.

But you made it. You were given away, thanked your father and kissed his cheek as you stood next to Bucky and smiled lovingly at him.

"Hey, you." You whispered. Taking his hand in yours.

"Hey back. You ready for this?" He squeezed your hand. You squeezed it back assuring him you're ready.

The priest spoke, welcoming everyone as he joined you in matrimony.

Your eyes welled up as your vows were told. His words hit your heart and your love for this man just kept on growing.

"By the power invested in me. I now pronounce you, husband and wife. You may now kiss your wife."

"I love you so much," Bucky whispered against your lips as he pressed his own to them.

"I love you too, so very much." You smiled as you pulled away. The sounds of applauds surrounded the two of you as you walked the aisle together. Confetti was thrown over you when you made it outside.

The photographer was Bruce. And you chuckled. His great green body had somehow managed to squeeze into a suit.

"Say cheese!" Bruce said. The flash blinded you but you honestly didn't care. "Congratulations Mr. and Mrs. Barnes!"

Everyone cheered and you kissed your husband with a passion.

The start of a new life as husband and wife.

Bucky would continue to count his lucky stars every day for the rest of his life. Fate caused you to be in that cafe on that day.

His ma would have absolutely adored you. His father too. And you cried one night as he was sad they couldn't be here for his special day.

You reminded him they were, in his heart and they forgave him. They loved him.

And your family was his family, he would never be alone.

Bucky once believed he deserved to be caged up and fed to dogs.

Bucky was once convinced that would happen.

This is his family and his life and nobody could ever dare take that away from him.

Taglist: @leosandbuckysgirl @jobean12-blog @sebbbystaaan Some others: @littledarlinhavefaithinme @book-dragon-13 @criminal-cookies @valkyriesryde @mushyjellybeans @emmandhercoffecrisp @captainchrisstan @this-kitten-is-smitten @godofplumsandthunder @moonbeambucky @searchingforbucky @buckythewhitewolfx @your-highnessmarvel @katbtracy @mermaidxatxheart

168 notes · View notes

lululawrence · 4 years

Photo

lululawrence’s Fics Posted in 2019

Master Fic Masterpost / Buy me a Coffee?

2019 was a bit crazy, but I’m so proud of the fics that I’ve been able to write and publish this year! There were quite a few of them, so here they are in order of when they were published. I hope you enjoy!

Hey Look, Ma (9k) - Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson

“I’m so sorry,” a deep voice said.

Louis made sure he’d only dropped his hat, reached down to pick it up, and was dusting it off when he finally looked up.

“It’s alright...mate…” Louis had seen this man before. He was gorgeous. He lived somewhere in the area, because Louis would often pass him on the street heading home from the tube or the nearest bus stop.

And now, here he was. Standing in all his fluffy, curly haired glory in front of Louis, apologising for nearly bowling him over.

“I really am sorry, though. Let me get you a coffee to make up for it?”

Or the one where Louis is a hybrid who agrees to go on a blind date with his neighbour's colleague's son the same night he literally runs into his dream man. Surely this isn't going to end well... or is it?

Charisma (5k) - Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson

Harry was smiling, and maybe blushing a little as well, as he accepted the phone back. “Thank you,” he glanced down at his phone and then said, “Louis.”

Smiling happily at the way Harry had said his name, Louis watched him leave the room. The further away he got, the more confused Louis was. Yes, Harry was gorgeous, but how the hell had he forgotten that Harry was also the man who had caused him to almost have a major accident earlier because of his haphazard driving? How had he allowed Harry to distract him with his charm to the extent that instead of giving the man a lecture, Louis accepted the offer of a date?

Well. Whatever the reason was, Louis wouldn’t forget when Harry called. Louis would give him a piece of his mind then and see if Harry still wanted to go out with him at that point. Because yeah, Louis was not mad enough about his overreaction to Harry, both on the road and at the event tonight, to turn that opportunity for a date down. He wasn’t stupid.

Or the one where Harry feeds on awesomeness (possibly literally). Louis is awesome and also angry. They’re probably going to fall in love.

Drabbles for Harry's Birthday Drive 2019 (25k) - Various Pairings

Each chapter is a different drabble dedicated to a person who donated to Harry's birthday drive! The prompt requested as well as the pairing are in the author’s note for each chapter as well. There are multiple pairings due to various pairings being requested by the donors, so please pay attention to that information in each chapter! Pairings include Harry/Louis, Zayn/Liam,, Grimmy/Louis, Greg/Louis, Zayn/Louis, and Niall/Shawn.

It’s the Climb (25k) - Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson

Louis stretched out his back and turned around, startled to see the most beautiful man he’d ever encountered in his life riding towards him on a horse.

He had to still be asleep. This was one of those super weird dreams people had where the knight in shining armor (or in this case, red sleeveless flannel) literally rode up to them calling their name.

The Hannah Montana AU where Louis is a world famous punk rock singer with a stage name of William and Jay drags him back to Tennessee for the summer. In her attempt for Louis to get back to his roots, he just so happens to reconnect with Harry, and things never go quite as Louis expects them to.

It Was Only a Kiss (16k) - Various Pairings

I participated in a kiss prompt drabble challenge on Tumblr, and ended up writing thirty-three drabbles! Because of the amount all for one challenge, I decided to post them on AO3 to save them. Each prompt exists on its own without relation to others, so pick and choose as you like.

If You Want To Be Loved (0.5k) - Greg James/Louis Tomlinson

Greg can't sleep. For once, he doesn't really mind.

(Something’s Been) Hiding In My Heart (26k) - Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson

“My eyes must be deceiving me,” Harry said in his slow drawl. His voice was deeper than Louis remembered. Maybe some things had changed after all.

“They aren’t deceiving you. I’m here because I need you to finally sign these papers,” Louis said before he dropped the stack of paper on the hood of the car and held out a pen to Harry. “Just do it, Harry. Get it over with and then I’ll be out of your life forever, alright?”

Face blank of all emotion outside of a sneer Harry said, “You’ve gotta be shitting me.”

“God,” Louis groaned. Harry just couldn’t let this be easy. His pride wouldn’t allow it. “You know, I never really understood that phrase, but no. I am not ‘shitting’ you. Just sign the damn papers.”

“Ya know, I don’t think I will,” Harry said before turning back to the front door.

When the screen door slammed behind him, Louis realized Harry didn’t have anything else to say.

Or a Sweet Home Alabama AU where Louis comes home to finally get his divorce from Harry finalized so he can move on with his life. Alderford holds its own set of challenges when he returns, but by facing his past maybe he can find the healing he so desperately needs.

You Try To Be Everything (I Need) (36k) - Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson

Wars, and rumours of wars, were nothing new for the world in the twenty-fourth century. The fighting had evolved over the years, and rarely did it involve traditional weapons. A group most widely known as the Southern Powers gained strength amongst portions of the western European continent and spread quickly.

There was a fight the Southern Powers didn’t expect coming from the north of England, though. Resistance came in the form of an organised underground; a group comprised of people with the Touch that did the best they could to enforce a line that would not be crossed. Slowly, that line was moved from the Channel to boundaries further and further north. It seemed only a matter of time before the Southern Powers took over everywhere.

Until that time, people did the best they could to live their lives in some semblance of normality. For Louis Tomlinson, that sense of normality was about to change when his best friend, Harry Styles, goes missing.

Louis embarks on the journey of a lifetime where he uses his newly developed abilities to search for his friend, even when it takes him to places he never thought he would see while surmounting trials he never could have imagined.

You Turned Up (Like a Friend of Mine) (10k) - Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson

Louis padded downstairs, feeling incredibly thirsty. He filled up a glass of water and was about to take a drink when a loud knock sounded at the door accompanied by some yelling and ringing of the doorbell.

“What the hell?” Louis muttered, setting his glass on the counter and rushing towards the door.

As he got closer to the door, though, his mind stopped whirling because the voice was one that was etched forever in his mind, but one that he never thought he would ever hear again.

“Why’s the door locked? Did you seriously go without me? And who’s car is in the driveway? Lou, I knew you’d be late to get me. We’re going to miss-”

Louis whipped the door open, sure that he was just imagining things. There was no way…

Except there was. Standing on the front step was the curly haired, boy-faced Harry Louis had last seen ten years ago today.

Or the one where Harry disappears on graduation day only to show up on Louis' door looking exactly the same ten years later. Through a series of strange events, maybe they can finally figure out that they're destined to be together, no matter what.

Stealing Flowers (4k) - Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson

When Louis finally arrived, he walked in and grabbed an apron. Without even saying hello, he immediately approached Jesy and said, “Sexy Stranger steals flowers.”

She kept pouring the Tanqueray shots she had lined up in front of her, but her face screwed up in confusion. “I’m sorry, he what? Did you finally talk to him and that was what you learned?”

He nodded to another couple of tourists and welcomed them to the Way Station as they eagerly made their way to the Tardis restroom.

“No, I didn’t actually talk to him, but—”

“Then how do you know he steals flowers?”

She was wiping down the bar and stacking the empty glasses to take back to the dishwasher when Louis realized maybe he should help too. After all, he was there to work, not just talk to her about his maybe crush.

“I saw a poster.”

Or the one where Louis pines after the Sexy Stranger on the Subway and almost asks him out. That's when the strange posters start showing up around Brooklyn.

Yellow, Is It Me You’re Looking For? (3k) - Greg James/Louis Tomlinson

Standing in the mess Greg’s shift had left behind, Louis decided he would start small. He’d organise the paint colour cards that displayed the names and then get started on the sample tins. It wasn’t until he started opening the boxes of colour cards that Louis started to wonder whether Nick had been the one to name the paint after all.

Yellow, Is It Me You’re Looking For? was along the top left corner of a mustard yellow card. Nick was as big a fan of puns and music as anyone, so while it was unorthodox, Louis didn’t think too much of it. Part of the appeal of Annie’s Hardware was that they didn’t take things too seriously while always maintaining professionalism.

The names that followed did leave Louis to wonder if Annie knew exactly what the chosen paint names were, though. The Colour Of My Tears When ‘FRIENDS’ Ended for a soft white, Barneys Blood for a pale purple, and Blond. James Blond. for a sand tone had Louis convinced that it was a different co-worker who had renamed the colours.

Or the one where Louis has pined after Greg for what seems like ages, but when Greg renames the company's paint colors, something might finally be ready to give.

Like a Lighthouse On The Coast (I Need You) (19k) - Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson

Louis placed his order with the server and was about to type up some possible lyrics when he heard the music being piped in go silent and a throat was cleared into a mic.

Oh God no. If Louis had known there was going to be live music, he would have chosen somewhere else. Why did they have to ruin what was truly the perfect ambiance for Louis with some sub-par wannabe singer-songwriter?

“Hello, I’m going to sing some songs for you tonight. I hope you like them.”

The voice was deep and smooth, slower than Louis had expected. It made him want to look up at the singer rather than cower into the corner of his booth.

So he did. The man didn’t look nervous at all, but he didn’t look like the cocky asshole Louis had been expecting either. Louis continued to brace himself as he took in the simple Ramones shirt and jeans the man was wearing, when something Louis hadn’t been expecting happened.

The man began to play his guitar, and he was good.

And then, the man began to sing.

Or the one where Louis has all the pressure of his sophomore album and none of the inspiration, but maybe all he needs is someone like Harry Styles to turn all that around.

Oh Honey, Honey (4k) - Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson

Louis hated honey. He didn’t like the flavour, he didn’t understand why some liked it in their tea, he hated when it was put on sandwiches or cake or anything really. But, standing stock still in front of a rather large display of honey in that 24-hour Tesco, Louis found himself grabbing the largest jar of “100% pure London-local honey” and adding it to his trolley, simply because he knew it would make Harry smile.

Louis always wanted to make Harry smile.

Or the one where Louis pines after Harry, Harry is passionate about helping save the bees, and a late night shopping trip gone wrong doesn't end quite as horribly as Louis imagines.

You Don’t Care About Me (One More Night) (60k) - Nick Grimshaw/Louis Tomlinson

“Nick. You’re into guys. What should I do?”

Nick snorted. “You think just ‘cause I’m gay, I know what you should do?”

Louis blinked at him and Nick admired his eyelashes against his will. “Well. Kind of, yeah.”

“That is not how this works,” Nick said. “Besides, it’s not like you can just go and suck someone’s dick to be sure you like it the way I did. You’re too famous to try it my way.”

Louis’ expression changed to one of awe. “That’s how you figured it out? You sucked some random’s dick?”

Nick shrugged. “Yeah. Basically. I mean, I knew for pretty damn sure before that, mind you, but that did solidify the matter for me.”

“I need to suck a dick,” Louis said, turning to look at the wall of Nick’s room.

“You could suck mine, if it would help,” Nick offered before he could stop himself.

Or the one where Louis pines for Harry and Nick helps ease his way into figuring himself out through a friends with benefits sort of arrangement. Things quickly turn complicated.

A Taste of Honey (3k) - Greg James/Louis Tomlinson

Louis opened the door expecting someone with Deliveroo. Instead his gaze lifted so he could look at a very frazzled, incredibly fluffy haired Greg James who was inexplicably holding out a very large jar of honey.

“Hello, Gregory,” Louis said slowly.

Shifting around, Greg stepped forward and held the honey out towards Louis again. “This is for you.”

“Erm, alright,” Louis said before carefully taking the heavy jar from him. “Thank you?”

Greg flashed a wide grin, nodded, and then without another word walked back out the front door of the building.

Or the one where Louis has been pining after Greg ever since he started his job. Greg randomly showing up at his flat with a jar of honey might be just the push Louis needs to finally talk to the man.

Just Like Honey (3k) - Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson

Louis opened the door and he looked so soft and beautiful. He was in a ratty pair of grey joggers and that was it. Harry had never seen him look so good.

When Harry finally raised his eyes from Louis’ chest, he realised Louis had likely said something.

“Uh,” Harry said, clearing his throat. “Sorry, what did you say?”

Smirking a little, Louis crossed his arms and popped his hip. “I said, ‘Hello, Harry. What brings you here so late on a Saturday?’”

Then his brain kicked in.

“Right, fuck. Hi, Louis. I just wanted to give you this.”

Louis’ brows creased as Harry held the honey out to him. Taking the jar from Harry, he said, “Honey?”

Nodding, Harry said, “Yep. Hope you have a great night!”

Fisting his hands at his sides in frustration, Harry left the building as quickly as he could.

Honey, Honey, How You Thrill Me (3k) - Greg James/Harry Styles

Harry knocked once more before coming to the conclusion that knocking for longer than that was rude.

He’d just decided to leave when the door opened.

“Fuck, you were asleep, weren’t you?”

“Well, it’s past 8, so yeah, basically,” Greg said with a yawn.

God, he’d been asleep for over an hour. Harry was the worst.

“I’m so sorry. Here. Take this and get back to sleep. I’m so incredibly sorry for waking you up,” Harry babbled, shoving the jar of honey into Greg’s hands.

Greg looked at the jar then back up at Harry, still not saying anything. Probably because his brain was still asleep just like his body would’ve been if Harry hadn’t been a fucking idiot.

“Sorry again!” Harry said before giving a lame wave and rushing off to the nearest tube station.

Or the one where Harry pines after fellow Radio 1 DJ Greg James but doesn't know how to start a conversation with him...until he gets the needed inspiration.

Our Love is Timeless (6k) - Niall Horan/Shawn Mendes

He rinsed out his shampoo and began to scrub at his body. Turning around to rinse his back and wash his front, Shawn was not prepared to be met with a cursing blond Irishman.

Letting out a rather loud, high pitched scream and covering himself as best he could, Shawn backed up into the wall behind him, which also turned off the shower.

“Thanks, mate. Was hoping not to get my clothes entirely soaked,” the man said as he began stepping out of the shower stall. “Say, what year is it?”

“I...what?” Shawn sputtered. “You just show up, fully clothed, in a stranger’s shower and your first question is what year it is? How the fuck did you get in here? Why my shower? Who are you?”

“Well, yeah. I guess so. I’ve not quite got a handle of the whole time traveling thing yet.”

Or the one where Shawn falls for Niall, who just happens to be a time traveler. The course of true love never did run smooth.

Like Honey to the Bee (3k) - Nick Grimshaw/Louis Tomlinson

Nick didn’t even remember knocking, but suddenly the door he also didn’t realise he was leaning on opened and he started falling inside Louis and Harry’s flat.

“Fuck,” Nick blurted as he tried to right himself. He was caught by Louis, which was great because he was exactly who he wanted to see and he didn’t really fancy dropping a massive jar of honey on his doorstep.

“Nicholas?” Louis asked.

Nick couldn’t help it. Hearing Louis call him by his full name made him shiver. He usually hated it, but there was something magical about Louis Tomlinson that made the usual negative association suddenly become an incredibly positive one.

“I brought you honey,” Nick blurted as he handed Louis the jar.

“I can see that,” Louis said, sounding confused. “Thanks?”

“Of course! It’s what friends do, yeah?”

Or the one where Nick has been trying to find a way to get past the banter stage with Louis for ages, and honey might be just what he needs to finally do so.

Rings and Things (2k) - Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson

Niall: I know you’re a lesbian and all, but this is fast even for you

Or the one where Harry wakes up after a night of drinking to find her bed isn't empty and there's a ring she's never seen before on a very important finger.

The Only Thing That Keeps Me Grounded (28k) - Nick Grimshaw/Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson

“Shit, I definitely missed the last train.”

“Oh no,” Louis lamented. “I’d offer a ride, but I’m part of a carpool and we’re full already. I’m so sorry.”

“Really, it’s fine.” Then, what Louis said sank in. “Wait, I thought you were here alone?”

“Oh, I am. I’m the only one dancing here tonight. The others were working. In fact, here’s Nick now.”

It felt like slow motion as a tall, lanky man with incredible hair came walking over towards Louis. He smiled before pulling Louis into him and giving him a quick kiss.

“Nick, this is my new friend Harry. He just moved to the area and he’s amazing at swing. Harry, this is my husband, Nick.”

Fuck.

Or the one where Harry moves to Washington DC to be a nanny and never expects that his past struggles with love will be brought to a head. He definitely never expects the solution to it all will be the man of his dreams that just so happens to be married to the other man of his dreams.

A Halloween M(ass)hap (1k) - Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson

Harry was never going to forgive Niall. He’d been so distracted by his roommate’s cleaning and fussing while he had been looking for the perfect trousers for Liam’s annual Halloween fancy dress party that he’d not realised the black leather trousers he’d chosen to complete his vampire look were arseless.

Of course there was a no return policy, so he’d done the only thing he could do in order to not waste the money he’d already forked out online for the damn things: he added a cape.

Surely, nothing could go wrong.

I Wanna Love (Like You Made Me Feel) (28k) - Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson

By the time Harry and Louis are eighteen years old, they've known each other all four years of high school. Through those years, they never have a real chance to spend time together just the two of them. The summer after graduation gives them that chance, and it changes just about everything.

Ten years later, Louis returns home feeling like a failure after losing his job and not knowing where to go next. He never expects to run into Harry again, much less rekindle their friendship. Could this finally be their chance to finish what they started all those years ago, or did they really miss their chance at love?

Swipe Right for a Clean Flat (3k) - Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson

Harry was done. He was over this shit. He literally only asked his flatmate to do one chore, and that was the washing up. He couldn’t even handle a few plates and cups. Harry obviously overestimated him.

Louis wasn’t that bad. It was just that he only did the washing if he was going out to pull and wanted to bring someone home. If the dishes were put away, that was how Harry knew to vacate the premises. There was no way he was going to listen to yet another girl moan Louis’ name while Harry laid in bed and wondered what it might be like if only Louis liked men.

Glaring at the full sink and debating washing up himself - again - Harry finally turned and stalked to his room.

“Dire circumstances,” Harry muttered as he picked up his phone and unlocked it.

Or the one where Harry and Louis are flatmates and Harry is tired of Louis not doing the washing up. He figures signing up on Tinder as a hot girl might be just the fix for this issue.

You’re a Nightmare, I’m a Disaster (7k) - Nick Grimshaw/Louis Tomlinson

As Nick scanned the shelves, his eyes caught on a bright blue binding. Snooki, it read, A Shore Thing.

“Oh my God,” Nick mumbled, trying not to laugh as he picked it up. He’d watched bits and pieces of Jersey Shore way back in the day.

Without bothering to look any further around the store, he headed up to the counter where Blue eyes was watching him. Nick cleared his throat nervously and set the book on the counter and the man immediately flashed him a look of disdain.

“Seriously? Out of everything we have available, you chose the book we special ordered for a customer?”

“Well, it can’t be that bad if someone specifically requested it, right?” Nick said, trying to keep a teasing tone.

“Why do you think we still have it if it was a special order?” the man asked with a scoff. “They returned it after reading something like three pages.”

Nick frowned at the book. “Well that doesn’t seem very fair.”

Or the one where Nick is a writer, Louis works in a bookshop, and things don't exactly start off on the right foot, but they might just end on it.

The Goat Guy of Bethlehem (26k) - Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson

“What a pretty little thing!” a voice cried, catching Harry's attention.

Harry looked up, assuming it was a merchant talking to Gemma or some other “citizen” of Bethlehem, but when he did, he found a woman with bright eyes and long dark hair walking over to him.

“Me?” He wasn’t sure what to expect from any of this since she wasn’t a merchant he had met before.

“Yes, you! I think you’d make a very good husband for my son. Are these your parents?”

“Uh, yes?” Harry said, almost like a question. Robin and his mom just watched on with amusement, much to his chagrin.

Turning to Anne and Robin, the merchant woman said, “I’ll give you six goats for the marriage of your son to mine.”

Or every year, Harry and his family attend a church festival called Bethlehem. Harry's freshman year of high school Bethlehem expands, bringing in new vendors, including one that just might change everything for Harry. But first, he has to see if Anne and Robin are willing to part with him for the price of a few goats.

#mine #my fic masterpost #yearly masterpost #2019 masterpost #my fic #my fic rec #fic rec

178 notes · View notes