#While Bill rests his head in his lap. Having someone listen to him ramble while he gets his hair played with. Lots of really good kisses | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

levworship · 3 years

Text

cw: dom!reader, fem reader, mommy kink, degrading, dirty talk, oral (fem rec), slight mind break, reader is a lil manipulative. just a bit. probably had errors

summary: you find out while on another blind date with one of mina’s friends that kirishima is just the man for you. he wants to be used, and you’re more than willing to use him.

word count: approx 2.9k

“fuckin’ mina. i’m gonna beat her ass.”

this wasn’t the first time your best friend has tried to set you up with one of her friends. and honestly, knowing her, it more than likely wouldn’t be the last time, either. “but he’s so nice” she’d promise, or “she’s just a little shy,” and perhaps the most common line of “you just have to be a little patient with them”

patient my ass.

your damn patience was beginning to run thinner and thinner the longer you sat waiting at the table for your date to arrive. you’re used to mina’s friends not being the most punctual, but to not show up at all? it was almost insulting. here you were, taking the time out of your busy day to spare some of your sweet time with some rando and—

“hey there, beautiful.” your eyes quickly tore away from the spot you’d been staring at for the past few minutes during your internal rant. part of you wished you hadn’t, because you damn near stopped breathing. typically, you’d never allow a man the satisfaction of hindering you speechless, but fuck. the man before you stood tall and strong, the white fabric of his dress shirt clinging onto his muscles in the most delicious way possible. his hair was slicked up in a style that you could only describe as goofy, and his smile? it was so contagious that you couldn’t help but to toss away the piping hot insults you’d been preparing to shoot his way.

“sorry i’m late. was searching all over town to find these for ya. i know mina said they were your favorite, and well—“ pulling his arms from behind his back, the red-haired man handed you a comically large bouquet of flowers. were they your favorite? no, not at all. but you couldn’t help but to be flattered anyway. “had to look all over town for them. turns out they’re actually pretty hard to find around here. can you believe that?” he chuckled to himself as he scratched at the back of his neck. an unfittingly cute gesture for a man of his build.

you grin sweetly as you grab the bouquet from his large hands, setting them down on the table in front of you and batting your lashes. “these are very beautiful! thank you so much, ...um?”

mina always purposely hid the names of her friends away before setting you up, mostly in fears that you’ll end up googling them and find some not so pretty things, just as you had that time when she tried to set you up with katsuki bakugou. (you noted to yourself that day, stay away from him at all costs.)

“ah- eijirou kirishima!” he filled in for you and held a hand out for you to shake. your eyebrows shot up in realization, leaning forward a bit on the table to shake his hand. you don’t miss the way his eyes shamelessly drift down to your cleavage when you do so. the sight made you laugh.

now you saw why he seemed so familiar at first glance. you’d heard mina talk to you about him on numerous occasions. big, handsome, and dumb. that’s how you’ve always perceived him from listening to her stories and descriptions. and if there was one thing you actually enjoyed about a man, it was how simple they could be. perfect for a woman with your desires.

you open your mouth to return his introduction, but he’s already cutting you off with perhaps a little too much eagerness. “and you’re y/n? did i say that right?” he quirks an eyebrow. “uh- i may have asked mina about you already. a lot.” he flashed you a sheepish smile.

talking to him felt like being a kid in a loaded candy shop. he’d be in the palm of your hand in no time.

the rest of dinner went on moderately better than your previous experiences with these stupid dates. kirishima was a bit of a talker, but you didn’t mind listening if it meant you got to watch the way those puppy dog eyes lit up a little more every time he’d begin telling you a story from his hero work (turns out you were just really behind on the latest hero news), only to quickly become side tracked by one details of his story and trail his way to another mini rant.

finally, you figure you’ve had enough of him rambling. it was time to cut to the point. “does it get lonely?” you asked him suddenly, trying your best to hold in a smile at the way he looked at you confusedly. “i mean- not really? i’m a hero so i’m with people all of the time-“ “that’s not what i meant, red.” hearing you refer to him by his hero name sent visible chills down his spine. just the effect you were wishing to have on him. something about your change in tone knocked him from a highly energetic and charismatic sweetheart, to a blushing and stuttering mess who suddenly couldn’t sit still in his seat. and from just one question, too?

he was almost too good to be true.

“no? i-i mean, yes but... i dunno. i’m busy a lot, a-and i don’t really have time for... yaknow.” “what kind of women do you like? in bed, i mean.” you managed to knock his brain around for a second time as he fumbled around his head for an answer.

“i-i guess it depends?” “hm? what do y’mean?” the way he continued to respond to your nasty questions had you licking your lips. you wanted him. badly. in the most selfish ways possible.

“depends on what the chick is into. i mean- they usually like when i’m on top. but..” you don’t respond this time. instead you look at him expectantly and wait for him to continue his previous statement. something about seeing such a grown man grow so embarrassed that quickly does something to you.

“i guess i wouldn’t mind... having someone take control for once?”

everything from that point felt like a blurred flash. you quickly abandoned the bouquet and called for the bill (which he so generously covered for the two of you) and were stumbling out of the door in no time, speedily walking all the way to your humble apartment. the door had just swung open when you were already shoving him inside.

kirishima spent nearly the entirety of the walk psyching himself up for this. did you know he wanted to experiment with this? had mina told you? how would mina even know? did he even really want this? because by the way he was struggling to catch his breath and connect dots in his mind, maybe he’d gotten too far ahead of himself.

but it was too late for that now. you’d already shoved him all the way down the hall, into your bedroom, and onto your bed before he knew it. you were fierce and impatient. and honestly? he found it quite intriguing.

“red...” you drew him back from falling into his thoughts once again, dragging your knuckles across the rough skin of his cheek. “i said, are you sure you want this?” and he swears he’s never nodded faster in his life, already grabbing onto your waist and hoisting you onto his lap. “yes! yes, i’m sure. please y/n?” and with that, a thread in you snapped.

you pushed him roughly until his head rested comfortably against the pillows, muttering a quick ‘stay’ as you began to fumble with his belt. you’d barely even touched him, yet he still lied staring at you with those same big adoring eyes. he was just too cute for his own good.

it made you want to wreck him.

you practically ripped away his pants and boxers before gently palming at his cock. you had expected him to be big, but not this big. he was long and thick, your hand barely managing to wrap completely around it. wordlessly you crouched down and pressed a gentle peck to his swollen tip, the precum that’d gathered there now sticking deliciously to your lips.

kirishima was getting so restless above you that you could’ve mistaken him for a virgin, hands fisting at your sheets with countless pleas tumbling from his lips. “so impatient, cutie. dont you want to be taken care of?” “i do! i do!” it seemed as if he was completely unashamed of how desperate he must’ve looked right now.

but rather than provide the sweet sweet release you knew he was craving, you tsked and backed away from his cock. much to his disappointment. “you know something, red? i didn’t take you for the selfish type. want me to make you feel good when you haven’t even touched me yet? and i thought you were a gentleman...”

kirishima thrashed below you, fingers digging hard into your hips. “i’m a gentleman! i’ll be a gentleman! i promise!” his lip wobbled cutely. you almost felt bad for having to deny such a pretty face.

almost.

he observed closely as you leaned back on your knees, sliding down the straps of your dress and tugging until your lacy bra was revealed to him. you were going to be the fucking death of him. you couldn’t help but giggle a bit at the way he eyed your chest. “i’ll tell you what.” you said as you reached out and pressed a finger under his chin, forcing him to meet your intense eyes.

“be a good boy for me and maybe, maybe, i’ll let you touch. deal?” and kirishima nodded giddily. truly an obedient little thing, he was.

you gave him a large smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes before patting him on the cheek, moving up to straddle his face and... shit. you weren’t wearing any panties under your dress. the smell of your arousal right in front of his face nearly made him overload, wanting nothing more but to bury his face between your legs until you’re heaving and begging for a break. but he had to be good for you. wanted you to rake your fingers through his hair and call him your good boy while he plays with your pretty tits.

“well? dont you want a tas—” you gasp when his mouth is suddenly on you, every sense of restraint abandoned as his tongue slid across and pressed against your poor clit. it was messy, no real technique behind his frantic movements, but he still had your eyes crossing and your thighs squeezing the sides of his head as ear muffs, his fingers squeezing and prodding at the flesh to keep himself grounded.

the sounds that came from your cunt and his mouth were embarrassingly lewd, the sound of his slurping making your entire body go hot. you were so close to losing your composure and letting him have you the way he wants, but you couldn’t pass up an opportunity like this. not when you’ve been craving this for this long.

“kiri..” you couldnt tell if you were whispering or yelling at this point, brain all scrambled from the amount of pleasure you were receiving. you nearly doubled over from the vibrations of the small ‘hmm’ of acknowledgment he gave you. your fingers tangle themselves in his stiff red locks, holding his face still to allow you to grind yourself on his mouth just the way you wanted.

your breath hitched in your throat each time his nose bumped against your clit, his tongue buried deep in your hole as he was desperate to taste all of your juices. you could already feel your orgasm creeping up on you..

“oh, shit! just like that. good- fuck! such a good boy” the praise sends him into a frenzy, now using the pad of his thumb to rub viciously at your clit as his tongue fucked into you so nicely.

“‘m cumming, cumming, oh my god!” you’re hunched over now, eyes screwed shut when your orgasm suddenly rips through you. kirishima’s tongue continued its assault on your spasming pussy, the overstimulation becoming almost unbearable. you tried everything to get him off of you to make it stop. tugging his hair, lifting yourself up- but nothing seemed to be able to separate him from you until you literally shouted his name.

he released you in an instant and allowed you to back away to fully take in his form. everything about the sight was downright sinful. your juices covered the entire lower half of his face, and his hair remained matted with sweat against his forehead. and most delicious of all? he still looked hungry. you nearly said ‘fuck it’ and climbed back on top of him again...

but he needed to be punished.

and it seemed that he knew this too, because the moment your eyes met he was already begging for mercy. “‘m sorry! p-“ “i thought you promised you’d be a good boy? yaknow, i’m not exactly a big fan of liars, red. how could i let you have me when you can’t even follow simple instructions?” he’s silent at this point, eyes glued to the ground with an unreadable emotion splayed across his face.

you huffed as you climbed off of the bed, standing on wobbly legs with your back turned to him. you shook your head as you quickly slid your dress back into place. you originally planned on leaving it at this and sending him home, and perhaps you’d consider giving him a second shot if he begged you pretty enough. but kiri had other plans.

he wasn’t quite sure what came over him, but when he realized that you were planning on leaving him like that he couldn’t help but to jump up, gripping onto your waist once again. “kiri! what are you doing?” “please.” he whimpered into your ear, hard chest pressing into your back and his painfully hard cock rutting against your ass.

you probably would’ve collapsed right there if it weren’t for his tight grasp. “please don’t leave! ‘m so hard for you. want you so fucking bad. i’ll do anything, just- please let me cum. mommy.” the word rolled off of his tongue so sweetly, so heavenly, you couldn’t stop yourself from shoving him back onto the bed and tearing off his shirt.

you licked your lips when he was left completely bare to you finally, hand already working at pumping his cock. “suck a dirty boy. men like you are scum, you know that? getting so upset that you didn’t get your way after being so disobedient? i should tie you up and edge you for the rest of the night just for that” he began to mindlessly shake his head, muttering quiet a ‘no, no..’

“however,” you began to drag your fingernail across his chest, playing with the hairs that rested there, “think i’m gonna let it slide this time. well, only if you thank me properly..”

“thank you mommy!” the way there wasn’t even an ounce of hesitation or shame in his voice had you clenching around nothing. denying him any longer was beginning to be just as much torture to yourself as it was to him. biting down on your lip, you grabbed his cock and started pressing the tip to your entrance.

you began to feel as though you’ve managed to completely break him, watching as he continued to sputter out ‘thank you’s even as you struggled to take his cock in your dripping cunt. the stretch was nearly unbearable at first, but you were never one to back down from a challenge.

you weren’t going to stop until you knew you’ve completely broken him down into a blubbering mess for you. until you were the only thing he could think of. until you had him quivering and begging just for you. the thought of making him into your slave had you bouncing on his dick with energetic vigor.

kirishima was a sight to behold, too. eyes crossed and occasionally fluttering shut, panting like a dog as every bit of his stamina oozed out of him and he had to hold himself back from cumming too quickly.

at one point you caught his eyes glued on to the way your covered tits bounced while you rode him, still clad in your tight dress. you smirked devilishly before reaching behind your back and unclasping your bra, tugging it down with the dress once again and toying with your puffy nipples for his viewing pleasure.

that seemed to be the final straw for kiri, as he was now bucking up into you like a horny mutt. “gonna cum so hard, mommy. please let me cum in you. g’nna fill you up so good. wanna make you a mommy. i want it- i want it- i want it...” with all of his babbling you weren’t quite sure if he was aware of what he was saying right now, but the lewd words still had you spiraling closer and closer.

“cum in me, baby. be a good boy for mommy and give her your babies, okay?” you told him as you gripped his face in your hands.

and like the obedient little thing he is,, he did exactly that.

thirsts and requests for haikyuu and bnha are open.

#kirishima smut #bnha smut #mommy kink #boku no hero academia smut #mha smut #i’m so sleepy jesus #glad i’m finished doe #my hero academia smut #.chiyo’s works #.chiyo’s works bnha

482 notes · View notes

ttuesday · 3 years

Note

my i trouble u for some soft headcannons for the VDL boys?? 🥺 🥺 ur writing is amazing and always cheers me up 💕 💕

awwwwwwww

Arthur

Arthur’s very comfortable around you so sometimes when he’s sat next to you and doodling in his journal, he’ll start to sing to himself.

If you compliment his voice, he starts blushing and stutters over his words but he’s grateful for your praise.

One of Arthur’s favourite things is when you and him are both cuddling in bed and he tells you about his day. Usually he just rambles about something while ye fall asleep but it always relaxes him and it makes him feel like a normal person and not an outlaw.

Dutch

Dutch loves dancing with you. One night when ye were both in Saint Denis after a job, Dutch heard the trumpet player preforming. He asked if you’d dance with him. The street was quiet and it was as if it was just the two of you and the music.

Dutch never understands how you could ever feel insecure or self-conscious. While you sit on his bed, Dutch kneels in front of you and listens intensely as you vent. Afterwards he holds your hand and tells you every little thing he loves about you.

When you both wake up in the morning, Dutch likes to lazily give you some kisses before getting up to face the day.

Charles

One of Charles’s favourite things to do is kiss up your body. He starts at your leg, goes up your thigh, your torso, your chest and then your neck before finally reaching your lips. As he kisses along you, he mutters compliments about how amazing you are.

If you ever fall asleep by the campfire, Charles will carefully pick you up and carry you to bed.

Charles is so goddamn protective over you. Literally all you have to do is point at someone and Charles will throw them into Flat Iron Lake and go make sure you’re ok.

Micah

Micah absolutely HATES when people go at his things… but you’re the exception to that rule. If you’re sitting down at the campfire or helping Pearson cook the stew, Micah normally comes over and puts his hat on your head.

It’s his way of ‘subtly flirting’ and he encourages you to wear his hat, telling you it suits you and that it makes you look like a real outlaw.

Micah can get emotional when he’s drunk but it’s the one time he truly tells you how much you mean to him. He knows he’s lucky to have met you and no matter what, he wants you by his side forever.

John

We all know John isn’t the best at art but he loves practising his drawing skills but sketching pictures of you. Sure, most of his drawings look like Jack’s done them but it’s the thought that counts... right?

John loves relaxing with you. In the evening, he sits down under a tree with you and watches life go by. It’s very simple but it’s comforting.

John isn’t a fan of people going at his hair but he doesn’t mind it when you run your fingers through his hair. He’s even let you put a small plait into his hair once.

Bill

Bill purposely leaves his shirts lying around in the hopes that you’ll wear them. The sight of you in his shirt makes his heart soft and another part of his body very hard.

Bill never really had the time for baths but now that he’s dating you he makes sure to schedule in times to have a bath. Of course you’ll be in the bath too.

When he’s had a few drinks, Bill usually gets tired very fast so there has been a few times where he’s fallen asleep with his head resting on your lap.

Javier

Whenever you feel sad, Javier will try everything to cheer you up. He’ll sing to you, make some jokes, give you hugs and tell you funny stories about robberies he messed up in the past.

Javier was determined to help you learn the guitar when you first joined the gang. Yeah, he was using it as a way to spend more time with you and you didn’t learn much about the guitar but Javier still sees it as being a success.

If you ever get hurt, Javier prides himself on becoming Doctor Escuella and bandaging you up. Even if you just accidentally cut your finger while playing five finger fillet, Javier will take it seriously and take good care of you.

Sean

Sean loves to play fight with you. He brags about how amazing his fighting skills are and that he could show you a thing or two to help improve your skills. But of course he always lets you win.

You don’t need a blanket when you’re dating Sean. This man will literally sleep on top of you to keep you warm. I mean, he adores cuddling so he’ll fall asleep on you anyways but he says he does it to keep you warm.

He has tried to serenade you before. Sean paid Javier a few dollars to play the guitar while he loudly sang to you but Sean had to stop when Miss Grimshaw started yelling at him for being so noisy.

Hosea

Hosea absolutely adores soft kisses, especially when you’re both around camp and he sneakily gives you a quick kiss when no one’s looking.

Hosea has learned that patience is truly a virtue so whenever you’re stress or having a bad day, he knows it’s best to wait until you’re ready to vent instead of asking you a million questions about what’s wrong.

If you ever have any problems, all you need to do is tell Hosea. He gives you a small hug and reassures you that everything will be ok. And by the next morning, Hosea has somehow worked out your problem for you.

Lenny

When you can’t sleep, Lenny goes and gets you a blanket and your favourite book. He wraps the blanket around you both and reads to you until you finally drift off.

If he goes on a job away from camp and Lenny knows he’ll be away for a few days then he makes sure to leave little notes around camp for you to find. The majority of the notes are Lenny reminding you that he loves or a inside joke only you would understand.

Every morning Lenny goes and gets you tea/ coffee (whichever one you prefer, or maybe water if you’d prefer that).

#I hope these are soft enough ;-;#I always struggle with soft HCs for some reason lol #but ily and hope these are good #you’re my fave deputy #and my fave Caleb <3333 #rdr2 #headcanons #writings #arthur morgan #micah bell #dutch van der linde #john marston #bill williamson #javier escuella #charles smith #sean macguire #lenny summers #hosea matthews

383 notes · View notes

monodipita · 3 years

Text

PET (Yandere!Douma x Reader)

Hello again! I am once again quietly pushing my commissions out and encouraging people to check them out to help me out with vet bills. Please take a look if you can, it’s greatly appreciated!! 🙇🏽‍♀️

Word count: 2,083 Warnings: Yandere content, gore, death (not of reader!), master x pet dynamic (loose) His hands touched your face so lovingly. Each gentle caress came with a new wave of love that washed over you and pushed you deeper into the delirium. His sharp nails dug themselves into your cheek, but it was merely by accident. Every time it happened, it was. His rainbow eyes stared into your own as a smile creeped onto his lips. "How beautiful you are, [Y/N]. My pet."

Your eyes closed and you absorbed his words. Compliments from him never became tiring, that was Douma's charm. How could you have been so afraid before? "You have done so much for me, Douma," your words poured effortlessly from your lips. "Oh?" Douma pressed a bit harder into your cheek before releasing you from his grip. He pulled away and allowed you to rest in his butterfly-folded lap without pestering you for much longer. "Tell me of what I have done for you, dear pet." "You've provided for me in ways I have never seen anyone provide for me before, not even my own family," you told him. You took his hands that rested idly off of his knees and squeezed them tightly while you gazed into his eyes. "You've saved me from a life of running away from demons. I will forever and always be grateful to you, Douma." His smile remained plastered on his lips as he ate up your words. "You are so utterly divine, [Y/N]." He purred and leaned in, pressing his forehead to yours. His hands moved from yours and wrapped themselves around your body, pressing against your back and threading themselves together at the base of it. "The only one I need in my life..." his eyes hooded. "No one else will ever compare to you, my love." His words were so gushy. You can tell by the way he looked at you that he truly meant every word that came out of his mouth. "Do you love me. [Y/N]?" "I love you, Douma." "Kiss me." You obliged. Your lips pressed with his, and you instantly melted into his tightening embrace. The tighter it became, the more passionate his kiss became, until you could taste iron in your mouth. You were only given the right to breathe once he felt like it was right to give way. Lightheaded, you pulled away from him. "Was that good?" You ask meekly. "Only the best, as always." Douma responded, his blood-tinted lips showing themselves off. "Now... I believe lunch time is soon." Sometimes it was easy to forget that this was a community home, ran by none other than Douma himself. The people that lived and worked here were all indebted to him in some way, and you were included in that mix. He took you away from your family and gave you a better life. You were his consort, his significant other. Wasn't that such an honor? So many people were envious of you and what you had. Expensive clothing, people to cater to your every whim and need. It was the life of royalty, all given to you by Douma. "Right," you beamed to him with a shy smile before you stood. "I'll make my way to the dining room, then. Will you be joining us this time?" "I have important matters to attend to, dearest pet." He tilted his head and frowned when he noticed your disappointed look. "Must you always seem so saddened by my answers?" "...it's just... I'd like you to join me, this time." You pouted, slightly. What a spoiled brat. "Please?" "..." Douma flicked his fan open, revealing the pristine, sharp, golden blades within it. He hummed aloud for just a moment before standing and making his way close to you. He stopped before you and folded his fan closed, before pressing the golden fan into his cheek dimple. "I'll think about it." He stated. "Is that enough of a sufficient answer for you?" Well enough. The answer didn't vibe well with you, but persisting only put Douma in a strange mood. You nodded your head instead, and the two of you shared another kiss before departing. You stepped out of the room and gently closed the shoji behind you, letting out a soft, dreamy sigh. Yes, dinner was indeed soon, you could smell it in the air. Your stomach growled, making your cheeks flush with embarrassment. At least he wasn't going to hear that. "Are you [Y/N]?" "This must be Lord Douma's room." You turned your attention to whoever spoke, your eyes spotting two timid individuals. You quirked your brow in bewilderment. "What is it?" You asked. Neither of them responded with coherent answers. Instead they rambled, which made your eyes narrow with suspicion. Even moreso when Douma opened the shoji up to greet the two young

women. "Oh, my love, you're still here." Douma seemed surprised by that fact. "These are our newest guests, Aoi and Chieko." "N-nice to meet you," the one identified as Aoi bowed, and the other identified as Chieko followed suit. You said nothing and looked down on them with jealousy, before swiftly turning on your heel and disappearing around the corner. You were undeniably jealous of whatever they were doing. You liked to be the center of his attention. Like many who worshiped him, any attention at all was enough to make your heart pound until it was all you could hear. You needed to know what they were doing. You needed the confirmation that he wasn't doing anything with them... you wanted the comfort in feeling safe. You stopped at the corner, just when you were out of sight. You waited for some time to pass before you would try to figure out what was happening. You could hear people beginning to migrate toward the dining hall for dinner, and you needed to go too, but you held off. It was more important to you to find out what he was doing with those girls. After waiting long enough and hearing the halls go silent, you decided to make your move. You quietly headed toward his room and stopped outside of it to listen in on their conversation, if there was any. At first it was eerily quiet, but there was noise soon following your arrival. They seemed to be conversing about something. "I would appreciate this chance, lord Douma," Aoi's voice sounded... at least you thought that was her name, you couldn't quite remember. "Please use me as your heart...desires..." Silence. You felt your stomach tighten with nausea. What did she mean by that? Was he... performing sexual favors on her!? You felt hurt! You ripped your head away from the door and squirmed in place. You wanted to leave, but you wanted to know what was going to happen. You let out an inaudible sigh and pressed your ear to the shoji again to listen to what was going on. You ripped your ear away as a loud scream sounded from the room, followed by Douma's charming laughter. It became rapidly unsettling, making you swallow thickly with worry as your nose began to flood with the same, familiar smell of iron. What was happening? Did you want to know? No... you needed to know. What was he doing? You slowly pushed the shoji open, slowly enough to not be heard under the loud screams of the girl. You slowly edged into the room to see the horrible sight that you dreaded. Now that the sound wasn’t muffled by the walls, you could hear the disturbing sound of something ripping. Not clothes, not hair, but something else... The smell of iron became too much to bear, it was nauseating, even. You tried your best to beat the smell, just so you could get a good glimpse at what was happening. You... weren’t quite sure why you were pursuing the truth, but something just told you that what was happening wasn’t real. Could it have been true? “Silly, silly humans.” Douma chuckled to himself while his fingers plunged into Aoi’s eye socket to retrieve her eye. Her screams were deafeningly loud, much to his glee, and your dismay. “You almost ruined my day... oh, how I would’ve lost it if you interfered with my pet’s happiness. [Y/N]’s happiness is important to me! But I digress, you’ve fulfilled your purpose. You’re making me a happy, happy boy with your pathetic carcasses!” He purred. ”D-douma—!” You blurted in the form of a scream. You didn’t mean for it to come out like that, but it did. Blood caked his clothing, his face, his fingernails. The more disturbing sight lies within the scene on the ground... the girl’s bodies. The Chieko girl was dead. Blood surrounded her body in a large pool, kept intact, except for the decapitated head sat on her back and was positioned to stare at him while he tortured Aoi. Aoi’s eyes were removed, and her body weakly fought against his while she screamed bloody murder, but it didn’t matter. His thumbs were pressed so disturbingly into her empty eye sockets... “...[Y/N]! My dear pet. You weren’t

supposed to see this...” he tilted his head, a frown appearing across his lips. ”HELP ME! HELP ME, PLEASE!” Her wails were deafening, even when you were so far away. ”Oh, that is so annoying now,” Douma’s frown soured. He looked down at Aoi and shook his head at her. “Pathetic girl, don’t you see that you’re in the presence of my love? Be respectful.” His blue-painted fingers forced themselves into Aoi’s throat, causing blood to splatter on his face while he jerked his hand out of her throat in one quick motion. He undoubtedly just killed someone in front of you. “Oh! She’s dead. I tend to forget how fragile they can be! I lose myself when I play with their intestines... that’s usually how they stay alive the longest. Oops! I forget to control my tendencies...” Douma pouted. “Forgive me, my love. You were never supposed to see me like... this.” He started to walk toward you. You lost it. You doubled over and lost the contents of your stomach on the floor. You placed your hand against the wall for support to keep yourself steady, to prepare yourself to get out of here. You couldn’t even gather your bearings when Douma’s arms pulled you into a constricting embrace. He squeezed you taut against his body. ”You... you’ve been lying to us all,” you croaked through your sobs. ”I’ve only been lying partially to you, my pet. To everyone else, yes.” Douma tilted your head up and forced you to look at him with a firm grip on your chin. You couldn’t even bring yourself to look at him. ”Look at me with your eyes, [Y/N].” Douma purred sweetly. "Don't make me hurt you." You reluctantly looked up at him. He noticed just how upset you appeared to be and frowned. “Oh, my love! Don’t be upset for what’s happened to those girls. That will never happen to you.” He cupped your cheeks and pulled you closer to him, only causing you to sob more as the stench of iron and flesh wafted off of him in droves. “They’re in a better place now, don’t you think?” ”Why... why don’t you do that to me? Right now?” You asked weakly. “I can’t do this... I can’t do this...” ”Because you’re my pet, of course. Even if I want to eat you, I could never bring myself to.” He reached up to kiss your forehead. “Killing you would be like losing part of myself. I love toying with you, I love your cute little reactions...” he trailed off, before hooding his eyes. “Killing these humans mean nothing to me. But for a pet like you... you mean everything to me.” ”M-my parents,” you sputtered, “w-what did you do to them?” ”They didn’t care about you.” Douma said soberly. “That’s why you’re here, with me. They dumped you here. They gave you to me. We were destined to be together as a man and his adoring pet, isn’t that so romantic?” He smiled at you. You felt yourself beginning to sob harder. You squirmed and thrashed in his arms, but it didn’t matter. He was so much stronger than you. “My poor baby,” Douma frowned and pulled you closer into his arms, reaching up and stroking your hair as if it could calm you down. “Don’t worry, my dear pet. You’ll always be kept alive...”

#kimetsu no yaiba #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #douma x reader #douma #yandere douma #yandere x reader #gender neutral insert #reader insert

311 notes · View notes

marvelsswansong · 4 years

Note

Could you please do 48 with Sugar daddy!Bucky, please? Thank you!

48: “Why do you keep this picture of me in your wallet?”

word count: 2.3K

a/n: includes mention of sexy times (obviously, it’s a sugar daddy AU). I changed the quote slightly to fit the blurb better, sorry about that x blurb requests are still open, check my bio for more info :)

NOTE: above gif is simply used for aesthetic. not to indicate the reader is imagined to be white and skinny.

regular taglist: @wantyoubackpeter @platonic-plots @superwholockwannabe @xxmizzlexx @xdsockmonkey @princess-unicorn124 @not-jay-c @therealmrshale @caswinchester2000 @heartbeats-wildly @mostlylyricedits @musiclover1263 @angel-spidey @delicately-important-trash @theimpossiblehologramtree @sweetstilesofmine @valentinevirgo @barnes-heaven @paintingbellarke @cherryblossowm @sailorcrescentpotter1 @tomshufflepuff

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

“No feelings, just business.”

That’s what he had told you, the first time he had bought you that far too expensive champagne at the bar at a roof party in Milan. You had been dragged there by Natasha after turning down her offer to let you stay in her penthouse for a few weeks while you could find another place to live in after your landlord had decided to kick you out for a wealthier renter. As a university student, you needed to find a new place to live, and fast, near the university. Unfortunately, your university was in the smack middle of the city- making any possible accommodation extremely expensive.

“Just two drinks and you can leave.” Natasha argued, grabbing your hand and dragging you into the party. You already regretted entering as you felt so out of place- Natasha had been born into wealth, her father being an oil baron and her mother being one of the most famous actresses in Russia’s history. The other people at the party were those in her circle, other rich, successful and attractive people far above your caliber.

“I don’t belong here, Nat.” you complained, frantically pulling at your dress. She had insisted on buying it for you, going as far as pretending to go to the bathroom before paying the bill at the cashier of the designer store, but it was far too tight and short. The black little number clung to every crevice of your skin and matched with the velvet heels you were wearing, making you feel slightly self conscious with every step you took.

“Nonsense, babe. You look fucking gorgeous, you’ve been stressing too much lately and you need to blow off some steam tonight! Besides-” she leaned in closer to your ear to whisper. “I’m pretty sure half of the men here want to jump into your pants tonight.”

You didn’t even want to glance at the direction she was pointing at and scowled, pushing her off with a playful glare.

“You’re just saying that because you’re my best friend.”

“No I’m not, I-”

Someone near the pool called Natasha’s name and she gave you a brief apology and a hug before scurrying off, greeting the other person with a loud scream. She was definitely a social butterfly, whilst you took a bit of time to warm up to people- especially in situations where you felt out of place. And now you were left.

Alone.

“Could I keep you company instead?” a deep voice rung out from behind you. His tall stature dwarfed yours in comparison as he extended his hand towards you, the cuff links of his Armani suit rolled back slightly to expose his skin. The designer suit was nothing compared to his gorgeous face, a hint of stubble on his chin and a jawline that could cut crystal glass.4

“S-sure.”

He ordered the two of you a cocktail you’d never heard the name of, but you didn’t question it, still mesmerized by his presence. He chuckled at your obvious stare, causing you to look away in embarrassment.

“Are you fond of Oscar de la Renta?” he asked, seemingly out of nowhere.

“W-who?”

He chuckled at your frantic response, sipping on his glass slowly as he eyed you up and down.

“Your dress. It’s an Oscar de la Renta piece.... You’re not a part of this usual crowd, are you?”

You shook your head sideways, confirming his suspicion.

“How’d you know Natasha?”

“We go to the same university. She invited me to this party because I’ve been pretty stressed in between studying and finding a new place to stay... Money’s really tight right now and places in the city are expensive...” you rambled on, not noticing the shift in his eyes as he listened to your predicament.

“I could help you, you know.” he proposed. You chuckled nervously, toying with the hem of your dress.

“I don’t even know who you are.”

“The name’s Bucky. Bucky Barnes.”

Three glasses of wine later and he’d lured you in, trading details of your life with his. You found out that he was a self-made billionaire who co-owned a private equity firm with his business partner, Steve Rogers. With hundreds of companies under his palm, he had it all- the money, the fame in the business world, the admiration and loyalty. But he wanted more than a “quick fuck”, as he put it.

“So what exactly are you proposing?” you’d pressed, leaning in closer. He smirked, flexing his rolex watch in the dim bar light.

“I could be your sugar daddy, in the bluntest terms.”

“Do I look like the type of girl who’d be a sugar baby?”

He raised his eyebrow.

“I don’t know, doll, but... you’re fucking gorgeous. And out of money. I know you’re busy with school and all, but all I’m asking is that when you’re not at school to accompany me. I’ll give you everything else- money, gifts, trips to exotic places, connections.... All you need to give me is affection and physical company.”

You bit your lip, mulling this over. The thought of being a sugar baby had never entered your mind, but here you were, being offered the world and more by an insanely attractive man. And all you had to do was keep him company- emotionally and sexually. His hand traveled over to your lap, his clean cologne warming your senses as he awaited your answer.

"No feelings, just business, right?” you asked quietly. He nodded.

“No feelings, just business.”

That solidified your decision.

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

For the first few months, you followed him everywhere.

Fiji. London. Paris. French Rivieras.

You’d let him pin you against the wall and fuck you senseless at the hotel room in exchange for an unlimited access to his platinum credit card the next day. He spoiled you with designer dresses from brands you couldn’t even pronounce and gifts that could single-handedly pay off student loans.

With your schedule as a full time student and his hectic lifestyle as a billionaire CEO, you both agreed on having spaced out interactions. If he was in the city, you’d meet him twice a week, maybe even more if he was offering extra. If he was travelling, you could take a week off, week and a half off, maximum, to see him. On the days where you couldn’t physically see him, lots of sexts and calls were exchanged, all from the new phone Bucky had bought you.

It was as business as it could get, or so you thought.

You’d gotten a call from Bucky in the middle of the night, whilst you were cramming for a final, even though you’d both agreed at the beginning that meeting up during finals would be extremely limited.

“Hello?”

“I need you to fly with me to Boston tomorrow night.”

You sighed, rubbing your eyes.

“Bucky, I can’t. I’m swamped with finals and-”

“Doll, I’m literally begging you, I-”

That caught your attention, causing you to sit straight up. Bucky never begged for anything. Let alone, to you.

“My family’s been bugging me about meeting my new ‘girlfriend’ and me ‘settling down’ or whatever. I already told them I was bringing you, please, doll? I’ll double, even triple your pay.”

“Buck... It’s not about the money right now, I really need to do well on my finals. It’s in two weeks.”

“And we’ll be back in a day or so, it’s just a quick stop by. Please... do this for me? A-at least as a friend, we’re at least friends, right?”

And for some reason, perhaps it was because he sounded unusually desperate, you said yes. He picked you up in his limo the next day, exactly at 6pm, and you flew with him in his private jet to his childhood home in Boston.

“It’s a little small.” he’d warned on the plane, as he helped you step down the metal stairs.

Small your fucking ass.

You were astounded by the sheer amount of ground the mansion covered, as a maid scurried towards you and took your bags into the house. The steep marble arches and the high pane windows made you feel small, as you felt Bucky slip his arm around your waist and guide you towards the entrance.

Bucky’s mother was waiting for you at the door, pulling you into a tight hug and gushing about how pretty and polite you were to Bucky. You felt your heart skip a beat when Bucky referred to you as his “girlfriend”, but you forced yourself to breathe and smile.

No feelings, just business, you had to remind yourself.

Bucky was dragged off to the side by his sister and father, meaning that you were dragged to the kitchen to keep his mother company. She was a very lovely woman, which was why you felt quite guilty lying to her about dating her son.

“I’m so happy you’re dating my son, (Y/n).” she cooed, opening the stove. “I’ve never seen him stare at a woman so madly in love.”

Signing if off as good acting on Bucky’s part, you smiled, waving off her compliment.

“I’m the lucky one, miss. That said, I’m pretty sure I’m the romantic in the relationship.” you joked, eliciting a laugh from her.

“I wouldn’t be too sure about that, you know. I’ve seen that picture of you in his wallet.”

Picture?

Bucky never told you he kept physical pictures of you. You’d spend him pictures and you two took pictures on dates and outings, sure, but it was all digitalized and kept away in your phones....

Right?

Before you could question her further, she announced that dinner was ready, forcing you to sit next to Bucky. He pulled out a chair for you, causing his sister to outwardly “aww”, and making you let out a shaky sigh. His hand found his way down the table to rest in yours, his thumb grazing your hand repeatedly in a soothing manner.

That was new.

Bucky was an affectionate man, but he usually kept it brief, unless in bed.

“So (Y/n), tell us more about how you met Bucky.” Rebecca pressed, sipping on her glass of wine with a teasing smile. The conversation flowed easily from there, jokes and embarrassing childhood memories being thrown around as time passed by. Four cups of wine and a mortifying story about Bucky falling on his face during a dance recital at his boarding school, you and Bucky clambered up to bed, your face still red from laughter.

“It’s not that funny.” Bucky grumbled underneath his breath as you clung onto him for support.

“Sorry, I just... I never would’ve thought you’d be a dancer. Let alone a clumsy dancer.” you teased, opening the door to the bedroom.

“Well I guess there’s more of me for you to discover.”

The drunken haze lifted from your consciousness at his response, the sudden soft tone catching you off guard. The entire night, you drank away your fears, the fear that maybe he liked you back. You’d realized you had caught feelings for him, hard, about two months into it, but you’d talked yourself out of acting on it.

No feelings, just business. That is what he had said.

But the whole night he went out of his way to touch you, holding your hand and kissing the back of your neck. Calling you “doll” and “sweetheart.” Telling his family stories about you with an adoring gaze in his eyes. And according to his mother, that picture of you in his wallet...

“Shit, I left my phone downstairs. I’ll be right back.” he said, interrupting your train of thought. He conveniently left his wallet behind, and when you flipped it open, there indeed was a picture of you inside.

And not just any picture.

It was one of you, passed out on his lap after a particularly grueling and boring conference call, in which Bucky was working from his home. You weren’t dressed up, hell, you didn’t even have any makeup on. Just an old t-shirt he owned and short pajama shorts, and a pair of penguin socks. It was oddly domestic and simple.

And he had it printed and stuck in between the leather bindings of his wallet.

“Why do you keep this picture of me in your wallet?”

Bucky’s smile dropped off his face as his eyes shifted to the picture he’d been hiding away in your hand, dread seeping across his chest. He swore under his breath, he knew he should’ve kept it somewhere more secretive, but he just couldn’t help himself.

“Can I be honest?”

You nodded as he took in a deep breath.

“I.... I know I said ‘no feelings, just business’, and really, at the beginning, I thought that was all it was going to be. But... somewhere down the line, I realized, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. You’re wicked smart. You’re so kind. You’re not afraid to crack a joke at my expense. You’re... the perfect girl for me, except I was paying for it. I was paying for this... fantasy. Before you say anything, I know you don’t feel the same. I know this is all business for you, so uh, if you want to end the relationship now, since I’ve gotten attached, I’ll under-”

He’s cut off by your body crashing into his, your arms wrapping around his shoulders and he can taste the cherry wine on your lips as you press into him. He eagerly returns the kiss but is left dazed when you pull back, a wide smile on your face.

“I love you, you idiot.”

He smiles back, a smile so bright and sweet that makes your heart flutter, before he pulls you onto his lap on the bed. His hand is already underneath your blouse as he pulls out his phone, his lips tracing your neck.

“So... what’d you say I get a new picture for my wallet?”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x y/n #sebastian stan x you #bucky barnes fluff #sugar daddy!bucky #sugar daddy!bucky x reader #sugar daddy!bucky barnes #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes imagine #marvel fanfiction #marvel blurbs #marvel imagine #marvel reader insert #i actually really like the way it turned out

1K notes · View notes

cherryrogers · 4 years

Text

➸ call me baby {3/3}

BROOKLYN

pairing: bucky barnes x reader | biker au

warnings: Swearing, smoking.

word count: 8k

synopsis: Returning to Brooklyn for the summer after a year of travelling from city to city, you hadn’t expected to find your best friend, Peggy Carter, hopelessly in love with a biker. And when she decided to introduce you to the rest of his club, you hadn’t expected to fall for one either. That was until you met one with pretty eyes and a habit of calling you baby.

series masterlist

a/n: jfc,,, i can’t believe i’ve finally finished writing this lmao i’m sorry it took so long my dudes. thank you to everyone who has shown support for this fic, and i hope you all enjoy the final part !!💛

“I’m going to miss having you around, _____. It’s been nice having another girl here who isn’t afraid to put a shitty customer in their place.” Wanda smiled, handing you a white envelope with your final salary enclosed inside.

Folding the envelope and tucking it into your jean pocket, you chuckled heartily. “I think you and your pistol will do just fine without me. Thanks for having me here for the summer, Wan. I wouldn’t even be leaving if it wasn’t for this job.”

Her grin widened as she pulled you into a warm hug. “There’ll always be a job here for you — summer, winter, any time you need it.”

After you’d said one final thanks and goodbye to Wanda, you exited the bar doors for the last time and crossed the sidewalk to where Peggy was waiting in her car for you. In a matter of hours, you’d be spending the night in Brooklyn one last time, and your summer would be over.

Initially, you were expecting a couple of months solely spent with your best friend. Lounging on shimmering sandy beaches, drinking wine and laughing till dusk in your backyard, listening to her harp on about her dreamy new boyfriend while you rambled about all the places you’d visited. You couldn’t have imagined it to be more different than it was. Sure, you had done all of that with Peggy, but she wasn’t the only one that’d shaped your summer. Following the motorcycle ride at five in the morning with a certain biker, you’d only grown more attached to each other. He couldn’t ever keep his hands off you, and you couldn’t ever bring yourself to leave the clubhouse after a day spent with him. If the rest of the club ever caught on to yours and Bucky’s affair, then they never mentioned it. You were sure that was because of Peggy. She knew it was better to leave you be, considering Bucky was the first person you’d opened your heart to in a long time.

Some days were spent simply in his bedroom, wearing nothing but a pair of underwear under his silk sheets, constantly switching between telling one another about your lives, your childhoods, passions, fears, and stripping out of your little clothing and letting yourselves completely give into each other. Some days were spent wandering the streets of Brooklyn hand in hand, Bucky showing you all the alleys and parks he’d found Steve attempting to fight guys twice the size of him, you pointing out the diners and stores you used to drag Peggy to on the weekends in high school. Every day was spent getting to know one another though, and every day spent with Bucky was never a day wasted. The only down side to every moment your were with him was that they’d only add up to it hurting even more when you inevitably left, and that time was arriving very soon.

Peggy drove you home from the bar to collect your packed backpack and suitcase before bringing you down to the clubhouse for the rest of the night. She teased you about going soft since you’d gotten close to Bucky, wanting to spend your last night with your summer love as she called him. The girl received an unimpressed glare for the comment, but what she said wasn’t exactly untrue. If you’d told yourself a year ago that your summer in Brooklyn would find you all starry-eyed for a biker you’d only just met in June, you would’ve likely pushed aside any plan to return to the place at all. Peggy would forced your ass back to Brooklyn, of course; perhaps there would’ve always been something that led you back to your hometown, to him. Christ, you were getting soft.

There was a crease between your brows as you retrieved the envelope of cash from your pocket and gently ripped it open in your lap. It felt a little... thicker than it usually was — more than what you normally earned from a week’s worth of work. As your eyes met the wad of green bills inside, they widened in shock. Yep, definitely more than your usual salary. Way more to just be a mistake on Wanda’s part.

The large sum of cash even caught Peggy’s eye from her place in the driver’s seat. “Wanda must’ve really taken a liking to you. Perhaps doubling your salary is a plea to make you stay.”

A breathless laugh escaped your lips as you ran your thumb over the edges of the bills. “If it is, that girl knows exactly what she’s doing. Maybe travelling isn’t my true calling after all.”

While they was a playfulness to your tone, you couldn’t help but notice the brunette’s smile falter at your words. Peggy was like you in a way; she wasn’t soft, often being as upfront and stubborn as you were. However, she didn’t like opening up to people about herself all that much. Not that you were necessarily thriving in that department either, but when it came to Steve, she’d said it’d took her a while to even mention her brother’s passing to him. He hadn’t known she even had a brother before Peggy brought it up a long while after they’d began dating. Peggy possessed a lot of self confidence, and she had every right to do so. Being vulnerable and open just tended to put her at unease, and when you caught her acting a little off, it took some gentle coaxing to get her to open up.

“Are you okay?” You offered her a comforting smile, to which she didn’t quite return.

“Peachy,” She replied half-heartedly, hands tightening on the steering wheel. Glancing briefly at you, she spotted the crinkle in your brows and your pursed lips. Seeing as you never took your eyes off her, she sighed. “What is it?”

“Peggy, I don’t know how long it’s gonna be before I see you again. If something’s up, please tell me.”

Her tongue hesitantly ran across her bottom lip, fingers readjusting on the steering wheel. “It’s nothing, really. It’s just... I didn’t realise how much I’d missed having you here. I know it’s selfish, but I’d be lying if I said I was excited to see you off tomorrow.”

You shuffled in your seat, turning to face your friend more directly. “It’s not selfish, Pegs. Of course you don’t want me to go, I’m the shining light of your life—”

“_____...”

“Sorry, I know I’m annoying. Can’t help it,” You apologised, internally cursing yourself out. One serious conversation. You can have one serious conversation, come on. “I mean it, though; I don’t think it’s selfish. If you were jetting off to London tomorrow, I’d feel the same— oh, red light!”

The car came to an abrupt stop in front of the traffic lights, your seatbelt pressing tightly against you chest. Before you could reprimand your friend and tell her that putting you in hospital isn’t a viable way to stop you from leaving, she was turning to you with a surprised stare.

“You’re going to London? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I mean, I actually just made the decision five minutes ago, but yeah, I’m going to London.”

Peggy let out a disbelieving laugh. “You haven’t even booked your flight yet?”

“I didn’t even have the money to go an hour ago!” You exclaimed. “But with all this cash from Wanda, I think I’ll be able to make it there. I’ve been travelling the US for a year now, Pegs. I wanna go somewhere new. Somewhere fresh, the land of milky tea and buttery crumpets. I can go to the Queens house—”

“You have a lot of nerve saying all of this to someone who was born in England.” She glared softly, pressing her foot down on the gas when the green light appeared.

An amused smile crept onto your lips. “Hm, I will need someone to Facetime twenty four-seven to tell me all the places I need to visit, preferably English and born in London...”

“So you’ll talk to me solely because my nationality is of use to you?”

You rolled your eyes. “I might miss you a little bit too.”

“Thanks.”

“It’s hard being without you too, you know,” You spoke more seriously, catching Peggy slightly off guard. “Travelling is great and all, but some days I do wake up in my motel room and wish I was back home, spending the day with my best friend.”

While her eyes were still focused on the road, a warm smile was clearly pulling at the brunette’s lips. “Just... don’t stay away for too long this time, okay?”

“You’ll see me again before next summer, I promise.”

“Hm, I’m going to need that in writing.”

“I’ll even record a video for you; I’ll buy a tripod, get some good lighting, one of those fluffy microphones—”

Peggy cut you off with a hearty chuckle, dark, conditioned curls bouncing as she shook her head. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I think I’m actually going to miss your ability to make a joke out of everything.”

You scoffed, placing a hand on your chest in mock shock. “Christ, now that is something that needs to be in writing. I’m hiring us a lawyer, he can draw us both up contracts.”

“Dont forget to book your flight first.” Peggy chimed in.

“Right, I have a lot of things I need to do today. Bucky’s gonna have to give me a minute before he can have me to himself... and I’ll need to lend his computer.”

As your gaze averted to the passing by buildings out of the car window, Peggy grinned contentedly to herself. She could see exactly why you’d been the one Bucky had really fallen for, though she couldn’t help but wonder how he’d handle your departure to a whole other continent.

However, you’d promised you were coming back soon, and there wasn’t a doubt in Peggy’s mind that he’d be counting down the hours once you stepped onto your flight.

* * *

“London, huh?” Bucky’s voice caught your attention as he entered the office, a beer bottle in each hand.

As you confirmed the booking of your flight for the next morning, you swirled around in the cushioned desk chair, taking one of the bottles once the man had approached you. “Did Peggy spill the beans already?”

“Heard her talkin’ to Steve in the garage,” He pressed his own bottle to his lips, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Doesn’t seem like five minutes since you first arrived, when you came into the backyard in those little black and white shorts.”

Standing up, you shot him an eye roll. “I’m sure that’s all you can remember from that day, perv.”

“What do you remember then?”

You hummed, leaning into Bucky as you let his arms envelop your waist. “I remember wondering why everyone was wearing leather jackets in eighty degree weather. Oh, and that I thought you were a dick.”

The biker didn’t seem offended in the slightest at your statement, only grinning and pulling you closer. “Hm, and what about the day at the carnival? Wasn’t that a good day?”

“No, I had to endure you flirting with those girls in front of us in the drop tower line. I was almost sick before we even got on the ride.”

“Oh, that?” He let out a laugh, cheeks faintly tinting pink. “I was only trying to make you a little jealous. Seems like it worked.”

You scoffed. “It did not work,” It definitely had worked.

“You liked when I held your hand on the ride though, didn’t you?”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“You know what? Fine. I did,” You admitted, eliciting a smug smile from Bucky. “But I’m only admitting that ‘cause I’m leaving tomorrow. Don’t think I’m going soft on you.”

He ran his tongue along his lower lip, leaning closer to speak against your lips. “Wouldn’t be stupid enough to dream of it.”

Smiling in satisfaction, you moved an inch closer and let his lips meet yours, a warm feeling emerging in your chest. The kiss remained gentle as your fingers pushed some of his hair away from his face, before you pulled back reluctantly to breathe. Blue eyes pierced into yours after fluttering open almost hazily.

“Would it be stupid to ask you to stay?” Bucky asked quietly, though he knew the answer already.

A weak nod and an empathetic smile; you pecked the corner of his lips before stepping back completely as if you suddenly felt you’d been standing too close. Bucky had never seen you holding your tongue, but that seemed to be what you were doing as you put some distance between the two of you.

There was an uncomfortable silence, the warmth from your body dissipated and replaced with an aching coldness. Perhaps telling yourself all summer that you could worry about yours and Bucky’s future at the end of August was a terribly bad idea, because now it was hitting you — maybe there’s wasn’t a future for the two of you at all.

“I’ll wait for you, you know.” The biker’s voice broke the quiet, the words slicing through you.

“I don’t know how long I’ll be gone, Bucky. I don’t think I can ask you to do that.” You breathed, meeting his eyes hesitantly.

“You’re not asking me to, I want to,” He stated, worrying his teeth over his bottom lip. “Unless... that’s not what you really want?”

Truthfully, the idea of Bucky seeing anyone else once you’d left made your stomach turn. In an ideal world, you’d like it if he was just yours. Only yours, because you guaranteed that there wasn’t anybody else that could make you feel the way that he did. But you couldn’t force him to wait for a girl that strayed away from their hometown for longer than they stayed, no matter how much it’d end up hurting you.

“It wouldn’t be fair, Bucky, to either of us. We can’t really be together when I’m only gonna come back for the holidays—”

“Was this just a summer thing to you?” He questioned, a mix of regret and frustration flashing in his eyes. He knew he shouldn’t have asked that, but some part of him was oddly curious to.

Your previously calm expression turned sour as you furrowed your brows and scoffed. “You’re—you’re kidding, right? Did you just— of course it wasn’t just a summer thing to me, you asshole.”

Admittedly, it hurt that he’d even had the nerve to think that. You’d asked him if you shouldn’t have started something together that inevitably was going to end and he said he didn’t regret it. While being together could technically only last for the summer months, it wasn’t just a fling. There were feelings there that you weren’t going to be able to shake off, memories that were going to be carved into your mind forever. Did he seriously think that it was all just temporary on your part?

“Then would staying really be so bad?” Bucky retorted. What he was saying was only making you angrier, but he couldn’t help but be honest. Perhaps it just hadn’t hit him that you were really leaving in less than twenty four hours until that very moment, and everything that left him mouth was coming from a deep place of, well, sadness.

You shook your head in disbelief. “You’re being selfish.”

“Aren’t I allowed to be? We’ve spent a whole summer together and this time tomorrow you’re gonna be thousands of miles away from here—”

“And you don’t think I’ll be hurt either?” You intervened, cocking a brow. “You think I’ll be skipping through the airport utterly thrilled to be leaving you?”

Bucky was silent, too silent for too long. You scoffed, ignoring the way he was biting down in his cheek and the faint glossiness of his eyes in your annoyance. “You knew I was gonna have to leave eventually, Bucky. If you knew weren’t going to be able to accept that... then you never should’ve asked me to stay that night.”

That night; no further explanation was needed to identify which of the many nights spent together you were talking about. It was that night when you fell inexplicably hard for Bucky, when you decided that you might never have the chance to fall in the way you’d fallen for him ever again and that you’d only regret not staying the night. Not letting him strip you of your clothes and shed his own, not letting him make love to you, not letting him wake up to you admiring his every feature. If he knew he wouldn’t be able to let you go so easily, then having you stay that night was purely unwise of him.

When Bucky didn’t you respond one again after a few moments, you sighed deeply, crossing your arms over your chest. Though your expression had softened, your tone was still rather cold. “It’s never been just a fling with you, and if after all the damn time we’ve been spending together you thought there was a chance I might’ve thought that, then maybe you don’t feel the way I thought you felt about me at all.”

The biker’s features fell as he watched you chew your bottom lip and stalk towards the door — doubting his feelings for you was the last thing he wanted you to do. He let his boot collide with the bottom of his desk in frustration as you shut the office door behind you.

He hadn’t meant to start a dispute. It was your last god damn night in Brooklyn, of course he didn’t want to spend it receiving the cold shoulder from you. You’d probably gone out and found the rest of the guys, perhaps even went to drag Peggy aside to tell her how much of a dick he’d just been, which he’d understand. He had a feeling you wouldn’t do that though; instead you’d go out and pretend everything was fine because you wouldn’t dare let anyone know that he’d managed to hurt your feelings — always so stubborn.

Relationships were not Bucky’s forte. It’s not like he’d ever been looking for one; he was still young, he had still wanted to have fun for a little while before finally settling down like his mother had been bugging him to since he’d moved out. While he wasn’t the type to sleep with a girl and never call them again, he wasn’t exactly the type to, well... sleep with a girl and do anything else with them. He hated the talking stages of a relationship, despised them with all his being. Everyone he knew insisted that he had to get through them to actually have a deeper relationship with someone, but he really just couldn’t will himself to do it. So when there didn’t seem to be a weird talking stage with you, he was pretty happy about it.

It wasn’t like he was forcing himself to try and develop a connection with you, he’d hardly been interested in dating anyone when you’d first arrived. But then it all happened so naturally and now look at the two of you — well, you were mad at him and he was standing in the office alone like an idiot.

He knew better than to follow you outside and try to play friendly with you in front of everyone else. Giving you and himself a bit of time to cool off and think, Bucky took a shower upstairs in his bathroom. The longer the hot water pelted his skin, the more he felt like an asshole for what he’d said to you. He couldn’t just ask you to stay for him, that was wrong for a start. That was definitely selfish. Accusing you of thinking it was just a fling too? Christ, what was he thinking? He didn’t actually think that you thought of him as a fling, he just stupidly asked that in the heat of the moment when he was frustrated that you one hundred percent didn’t want to stay.

Maybe he ought to get out of the shower before he steamed up the whole clubhouse and make things right.

As Bucky neared the bottom of the staircase after putting on some clothes and towel-drying his hair, he bumped into Steve, who seemed to be heading towards the living room.

“Hey, Buck. We’re starting a movie soon. _____’s just finishin’ her cigarette out back; you two joining us?”

Bucky plastered on a smile, shaking his head. Perhaps he sounded selfish, but watching a movie with everyone wasn’t exactly the way he wanted to spend his last night with you. “I don’t think so, man. Another night.”

“Suit yourself.” The blond patted his friend’s shoulder before allowing him to scoot past him and head outside.

The sky was a deep blue, the sparse, grey clouds almost bleeding into the dark hue as the stars began to peek through the dusky blanket. A single garden lamp lit up the area, just about showing your figure sitting on the picnic bench that’d never been replaced since they’d moved into the clubhouse. Between your parted lips rested the remains of a cigarette, smoke twirling through the slight breeze that’d picked up once the sun went down.

You didn’t flinch as Bucky slid onto the bench next to you, and he couldn’t help but let his mind wander back to when the two of you had met. At that time, he was sat in your spot exhaling clouds of smoke, not knowing who you were when you first walked outside. Fast forward to now and you were exactly where he was all those weeks ago, except now he wasn’t sure what he was going to do without you.

“You mind if I take a drag of that?” He spoke up suddenly, suppressing a smile at the way you paused in your actions.

While you didn’t offer him the stick between your fingers, your loosened grip on it silently gave Bucky the permission to pluck it out of your hand into his own, which he did. After taking a long drag of the cigarette, he stubbed it out on the ashtray to his right before turning his attention to you.

“I know we aren’t a summer fling to you. I- I know how you feel about me, because I feel the same way.”

Bucky felt himself relax a little as you faced him, no longer staring off into the night. A slight frown pulled at your lips; he didn’t like the sight. “If I was going to stay for anything, or anyone, it’d be you, you know.”

Not sure what to say, the biker only gave you a nod of acknowledgment, taken aback by the statement. He wasn’t sure whether it was a compliment or something he shouldn’t be happy with.

“There’s a difference between me wanting to stay and wanting to be with you,” You bit down on your bottom lip. “I don’t wanna stay, but if you asked me... if you asked me to stay again to be with you, I probably wouldn’t get on my flight tomorrow.”

Breath hitching, Bucky narrowed his eyes. “You’d stay if I asked you to again?”

The look in your eyes was enough of an answer. If he asked you to stay, you’d say yes. Yes to waking up beside him during the colder fall mornings. Yes to motorcycle rides to anywhere and everywhere. Yes to never having to worry about how much time you have left together, because you’d stayed; you weren’t leaving Brooklyn anymore.

Saying yes to that however, would mean saying goodbye London, to travelling. Exploring different cultures, trying new food, experiencing a part of the world you never thought you could reach as a child. No more reading in motel rooms until midnight. No more tours around cities with a camera wrapped around your neck. No more living the life you’d been dreaming of since you’d barely started middle school — you weren’t ready to let go of that just yet, and Bucky didn’t have to read your mind to know that.

“I’m not gonna ask you to stay again,” He declared, prompting you to raise a brow. “I’m not gonna be a jackass and make you stay if that’s not what you wanna do.”

To his joy, your frown slowly curled into a soft smile. “I know your heart’s in the right place, Buck. That you weren’t trying to start an argument. And— and I can’t stop you from waiting for me if that’s what you wanna do. I’ll be back at some point, but I just don’t want you to put your life on hold for me, you know?”

“I wouldn’t be puttin’ it on hold. I wasn’t planning on finding someone I— I liked so much ever, really. I don’t know if it’ll happen again,”

Your heart — it was going to explode. Who knew you’d ever meet someone that had the power to make you feel so... disgustingly lovesick.

“...unless you happen to take a liking to a London boy while you’re there...?”

You chuckled, a warm sound amid the cool night. “London, Paris, Berlin... none of those boys will ever come close to the one I have in Brooklyn.”

A wide grin spread across the biker’s lips. “Who’s the sap now, huh?”

With a playful eye roll, you couldn’t help but place your hand on Bucky’s jaw, caressing it with your thumb as you leaned in and captured his lips.

He reacted immediately, putting a hand on your outer thigh to pull you closer to his side.

Wherever you were in the world, you’d always have Bucky in Brooklyn — he hoped that you didn’t doubt that.

* * *

Too many mornings spent lazing in Bucky’s bed meant that reality hadn’t yet set in after a few minutes of being awake. It was so natural at this point, to wake up and feel the warmth of him next to you, to have your legs tangled with his and to feel his nose grazing against the back of your neck.

Turning around in his arms, you leaned in and laid a kiss on his nose, smirking at the way he scrunched it in response before pinching at your bare hip. You smacked his hand away before settling your head back against the pillow, gazing at him through your lashes.

“Have I ever told you beautiful you are?” You asked without a second thought.

Heat evidently pooled in Bucky’s cheeks, and you rested a hand on the side of his face before he could roll himself over to hide his embarrassment.

“I’m serious.” You pressed.

“I know,” He grinned, voice raspy with sleep; he knew you never lied to him, you were as honest as they got. “And no, you haven’t told me.”

“Well, now I have. You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.”

“Shut up.”

“Never.”

Bucky sighed, tracing a hand down the curve of your back. He could keep you there forever, laying so close to him and calling him beautiful. If someone would’ve told him at the start of the summer that this was where he’d be by the end of it, he would’ve laughed in their face. “Where’d that come from, huh? You’re being scarily nice.”

“I’m trying to be sentimental, jerk.”

“Oh, right,” He smirked. “Just like last night when you told me to fuck—”

You interrupted him with a finger pressed to his lips. “I think that was pretty sentimental in its own way, actually.”

“Uh-huh,” Bucky kissed your fingertip gently. He had a feeling you were being a little softer than usual since the circumstances of the day were different. You weren’t sure when your next moment like this would be, if there ever would be one. Truthfully, there was an ache in his heart that was caused by that thought too. He sighed, almost sadly. “What time’s your flight?”

“Eleven.”

“Well, I think that leaves us enough time for me to show you how beautiful I think you are...” He trailed his hand lower down your spine and followed the curve of your ass.

You smirked, glancing over your shoulder to the small clock sat on the bedside table. It was nearly nine. There was just over an hour until you had to be at the airport...

“Thirty minutes, then we have to get up. Peggy will be up and banging on the door for us otherwise.”

“More than enough time, baby.”

That was a lie, however. It wasn’t nearly enough time, because once the two of you finally pried yourselves out from underneath the sheets, it hit you that that was the last time in a long time that you’d wake up in Bucky’s bed. The last time you’d be able to have him so close to you. It made you wonder what life would’ve been like if you met him before you first left to travel. If you’d fallen for him that hard so long ago, would you even have left Brooklyn in the first place?

You both took your time getting dressed, you tossing on a tank top and some leggings from your packed suitcase while Bucky put on his signature biker attire. He smugly asked if he could keep a pair of your underwear as a memoir; you told him to go fuck himself before planting a kiss on his lips. It was amazing how quickly he could switch between acting like a dick and being a sweetheart. You’d miss that, admittedly.

Everyone was eating breakfast in the kitchen when the two of you made it downstairs, the sound of your suitcase thumping against the steps signalling your presence. It was rare that you and Bucky ever saw the morning outside of his bedroom in the clubhouse, and that was proved by the raised brows and mock gasps you recieved when you entered into the room. You rested the suitcase against the doorframe as Bucky strided towards the counter, clearly eyeing the half-full pack of cigarettes placed on there.

As he reached for them, Steve looked up from his bacon and eggs, a frown pulling at his lips. “Hey, you can’t just smoke and call it breakfast.”

“I haven’t had breakfast for months,” The brunet snorted. “Don’t think it matters that much.”

“Have some coffee at least?” Steve pushed.

Cocking his brow, Bucky glanced over to you in hope of you having his back. It wasn’t like you’d had breakfast since before summer either, but you weren’t going to let the guy smoke for breakfast. Not when everyone else had a hot meal and the scent alone was making your mouth water.

“How about we get something at the airport?” You offered, strolling over to the seat next to Peggy and sitting down.

“You’re not going the airport so soon, are you?” She asked, sipping her coffee.

“Well, my flight leaves in two hours—”

The brunette almost choked on her coffee, prompting Steve to gently pat her back as she recovered. “Two hours? Oh my— why are you sitting down? We need to go—”

“Would you calm down?” You chuckled, placing a hand on Peggy’s forearm as she started to rise from her seat. She was right, though. You were cutting it very short by still being at the clubhouse when you wanted to grab some breakfast too. You moved your gaze to Bucky. “I mean, maybe we should go now...”

While he looked reluctant to nod, Bucky did so anyway, grabbing the keys to his motorcycle from his designated hook on the the wall next to the light switch.

“Hey genius, how am I gonna put my suitcase on your bike?” You furrowed your brows, grinning as the realisation hit him.

“Uh...”

“Bucky can take you on his bike,” The blond perked up, standing next to his girlfriend. “Peg and I can take the jeep with your suitcase.”

Looking to your best friend for permission, you smiled when she gave you a sure nod. She knew how much it would mean to you if your were able to ride with Bucky one more time. “Go on, we’ll be right behind you.”

After thanking her, you grabbed your suitcase and said your goodbyes to those sitting around the table. Though you didn’t speak to them as much as you’d wished you had, you’d still miss them. You all shared the same sense of humour, having a laugh with them was easy when you spent the day with the group, even when you were all simply lazing around the clubhouse. You gave each of them a quick hug, rolling your eyes when Clint told you to ‘have a right good time in London’ with a horrible English accent.

Bucky lead you out of the house, handing you a helmet and kissing the crown of your head quickly before climbing onto the bike. He didn’t say anything as you got on behind him, enveloping his waist and comfortably setting your chin on his shoulder. With every passing moment, you could tell that he wasn’t looking forward to finally waving you off at the airport. Usually when he was getting grumpy, you’d make a stupid comment about it and it seemed to cheer him up; it didn’t feel right to do so in this instance.

So as the the bike roared to life, you turned to look at the clubhouse. The place where you’d spent the majority of your summer, where you’d met everyone, where you’d met Bucky, where you’d kissed him for the first time, done other things for the first time. It’d become another home to you in a way, like a place you’d always be welcome back to. You hoped you’d always be welcome there anyway, even after being gone for months on end once you stepped onto your flight.

It’d barely taken thirty minutes to get to JFK Airport, Peggy’s jeep only a few cars behind you as you wound through the streets of New York. Bucky noticed when you didn’t start cussing out the bad drivers that were practically skimming the side of his bike like always, your head never leaving its place against his back. It was unlike you, but he didn’t mind. Perhaps like him you were just savouring the moment, the last ride you’d have for a while. Christ, Bucky had never felt so many emotions at once. He didn’t know whether to fall to his knees and beg you not to forget him or to kiss you passionately and tell you he’d be waiting for your return. To maintain his dignity, he decided against the former option.

Almost too fast for your liking, you arrived just outside of the entrance, climbing off the motorcycle reluctantly and spying the jeep just coming to park behind you. It wouldn’t be able to stay parked there for long, and you felt an ache in your chest as you saw Peggy stepping out of her car, Steve not far behind her pulling your suitcase along.

He handed it to you with a smile which you returned as you took it from him. Setting it beside you, you let out a sad chuckle upon realising how glazed over Peggy’s eyes were.

“I’m not about to cry, before you say anything,” She stated, plastering on a grin. “It’s just allergies.”

“Allergies my ass,” You smirked, stepping forward and wrapping your arms around her neck, grinning into her shoulder as she hugged you back tightly. You spoke again, this time more quietly next to her ear. “I love you, okay? And I won’t hesitate to fly back here and beat Steve’s ass if he does anything, I swear.”

Truthfully, you didn’t think Steve was capable of hurting a fly, never mind the smartest, kindest, most gorgeous woman you knew. However, Jay-Z was capable of cheating on Beyoncé — Beyoncé, so being a little sceptical of any man you met wasn’t unreasonable, in your opinion.

“I appreciate the gesture, but I don’t think that’ll be necessary,” She chuckled. “You just focus on looking after yourself, alright?”

“Right,” You responded. “And... you’ll keep an eye on Bucky for me, won’t you?”

It wasn’t that you didn’t trust Bucky, or that you wanted a daily report of what he was up to while you were gone. You just wanted to know that he was going to be okay. Being apart would be hard on both of you, but you’d been doing the ‘being alone’ thing for over a year now, and you had a feeling that there was more to how he felt about you leaving than he was letting on. Even when he said he wasn’t going to ask you to stay again, you still felt like he wasn’t as okay with the situation as he was acting to be.

“Of course I will, Steve too,” The brunette assured you, giving you a final squeeze before beginning to pull back. “I love you too,” She sighed, returning to her place stood next to Steve. “Right, you know where you’re going after you arrive, yes? If not, you can call me and I’ll give you directions to the motel. If you’re hungry I know there’s a takeaway place just outside of the airport—”

“Pegs, I’ll be fine. I’m going to London, not Narnia.”

“Just— just be safe, okay?”

“Can’t make any promises.”

“_____—”

“I’m kidding! How about you learn to take a joke while I’m gone, huh?”

You smiled as Peggy rolled her eyes in amusement. Perhaps she wouldn’t be as amused if she knew about what happened with Brock Rumlow at the bar. You decided you’d tell her in London when you were in a whole other continent, otherwise she might not have let you leave in fear that you’d be getting into more trouble at English bars with assholes like Brock. Even if you did, Peggy knew you weren’t soft, you could handle yourself. She just worried that you were a little too unafraid of confrontation.

Turning to Bucky and picking your suitcase back up, you have him a slight tug on his hand. “We should probably go for breakfast now, I’ll be boarding soon.”

He nodded, offering to take your suitcase and rolling his eyes when you made a comment about him being ‘such a gentlemen’. You gave the blond a quick hug, warning him to take care of Peggy and grinning as he teased you about being more like her mother than her best friend, before saying a final goodbye to the two of them, giving your friend’s hand a final squeeze and turning away to head into the airport.

There was just over an hour until you had to be on the plane, so you and Bucky decided to head into cafe near the entrance and get a proper breakfast. Two steaming black coffees sat opposite each other on the small booth in the corner you were sat at, complimenting the stacks of pancakes dripping in syrup and sugar that you’d impulsively ordered and that Bucky had insisted on paying for, saying that you should save all your cash for exploring London.

“I’ll probably come back for Christmas.” You said in repsonse to him asking how long you’d be travelling for this time, stuffing a sliced bit of pancake into your mouth.

Bucky furrowed his brows. “Really? You’re not staying away until summer again?”

You cocked your brow, looking at him in the corner of your eye. “Why, do you want me to?”

“Course not,” He smirked, reaching out to swipe a drop of syrup from your lip with his thumb. “I hope that means you’re getting me a Christmas present then.”

A chuckle left your lips. “My return will be your Christmas present, how about that?”

The biker scoffed. “Okay... getting to kiss me when you get back will be your present then.”

“Eh... can’t you think of something better?”

He glared at you playfully, though you felt a little bad making the joke. You knew from the argument the night before that he wasn’t still one hundred percent okay with you leaving. Comfortingly, you placed a hand above his knee over his dark jeans.

“In all seriousness, though— I shouldn’t have told you not to wait for me to come back. If that’s what you really want, I can’t stop you from waiting for me. In fact, just seeing you again will be the best thing I’ll get on Christmas; I know it. Well, unless someone gets me some rollerblades. I always wanted them as a kid but my mom refused since I have issues with ‘being careful’—”

Bucky’s laugh cut you off, rolling his eyes at your attempt at covering up your sappy words with sarcasm. He could definitely understand why you never got rollerskates, however — you did have a tendency to be a little reckless. God knows what you were like as a kid.

“I’d have to agree with her on that one,” He smiled, sipping his coffee. “You have been punched in the face more times than the average person. You never told me about the other time you got punched, actually.”

A chuckle fell from your lips. “You remember me mentioning that?”

“Uh-huh.”

You sighed melodramatically. “I guess we have some time to kill — fine. So I was, surprise-surprise, in some random bar in Chicago...”

The hour you had left before your flight finished soon after you’d told Bucky enough stories from your travels to last him in your absence, and before you knew it, you’d reached the flight terminal.

There was an invisible force tugging at your heartstrings. While you were bubbling with excitement to get on your flight, to explore a whole new place outside of what you’ve always known, you hadn’t anticipated how hard it would be to leave what you did know behind. The thought of depending on somebody else, allowing yourself to let their feelings come into play with your decisions, had practically disgusted you only a few months ago. But with Bucky, it only felt wrong to cast his feelings aside.

The biker noticed the change in your demeanour as you neared the terminal, and a smile crept onto his lips. “C’mon, _____ — don’t tell me you’re gonna pussy out on leaving now.”

“Shut up,” You scoffed, elbowing his ribs. “I’m just... thinking.”

“About what?”

It took you a moment to come up with an answer. “About how everything has changed, and how everything is going to keep changing.”

You turned to look at Bucky, whose brows were furrowed. The corners of your lips upturned. “Bucky, nothing in my life is consistent. I’ve always liked travelling because where I am changes all the time, and I never feel stuck anywhere; I always feel free. And with you, I don’t feel stuck either. I want you to be a constant in my life, no matter where I am in the world or whatever else changes in it. I always wanted to get out of Brooklyn ‘cause it never felt like where I was supposed to be forever, but now I know that you’re here... well, maybe Brooklyn is where I’m supposed to end up...”

“...and I swear to God if you call me a sap for that—”

To your delight, you’re not teased for the most heartfelt thing you’d ever said to him, or anyone for that matter, but cut off with a intense kiss. Savouring the feeling, you placed a hand on the back of Bucky’s neck, letting yourself melt into him for one last time that summer. You’d found that Bucky wasn’t necessarily vocal in expressing his feelings, but that didn’t matter. The way he kissed you said more than a thousand words ever could.

After reluctantly pulling away from the kiss, Bucky didn’t let you go just yet. He wrapped his arms around your shoulders and held you to his chest, an affectionate action that he didn’t necessarily do so often. Nevertheless, you leaned into him and let your arms encircle his waist, your cheek resting comfortably against his shoulder. This wasn’t the last time you’d be so close to him, you had to keep reminding yourself of that. But you’d never felt so hesitant to leave someone behind since you’d left Peggy the first time you left New York. You found your way back to her, though, and you were sure you’d do the same with Bucky.

“On second thought, I’d be fine if you pussied out of leaving now...” He spoke into your ear, making you chuckle against his chest.

“I’m no wuss, Bucky Barnes,” You moved back from his embrace, patting his jacket. “You’ll see me again soon, don’t worry your pretty little head about it.”

The feminine voice over the intercom informing you that your direct flight to London was departing soon cut your final moments with Bucky short, enabling the both of you to let out a disheartened sigh.

You leaned forward once more, pressing a soft but fleeting kiss to his lips, before giving his hand a squeeze. “Stay out of trouble, will you? At least until I get back?”

“I think I should be the one tellin’ you that,” Bucky laughed, his eyes taking in the curve of your nose and your cheekbones, the colour of your eyes and the softness of your lips; the features he’d had the luxury of waking up to every day for the past two months. Not that he could ever forget how beautiful you are, but he’d be a fool not to take advantage of looking at you properly in the flesh for the last time for a while. “Running away from a fight isn’t a bad thing, you know.”

“Practise what you preach, pal — does that mean you won’t be socking Brock Rumlow in the face next time you run into him?”

“...touché.”

A grin graced your lips as you clasped your fingers around the handle of your suitcase. “Mhm, that’s what I thought. Now, I’ve gotta get going. There might be a fight waiting for me on the plane already — a forty-five year old lady named ‘Karen’ that’s upset she didn’t get the window seat, perhaps?”

“Well, I can’t keep you waiting, can I?” Bucky stuffed his hands into his jacket pockets, watching as you began to walk in the opposite direction to him, the opposite direction to the summer you’d forever hold dear to your heart.

The smile on your face widened, your last words to him falling from your lips before you turned around and headed towards the next part of your journey, which would eventually, hopefully, lead you back to him in the end.

“I’ll see you when I’m back home.”

Home. Where you belonged. Where you’d circle back to when you’d travelled across the world and back. With him, in Brooklyn.

“See you when you’re back home, baby.”

There was a time when you didn’t believe in love. When you thought that those who did were only fooling themselves, and when you once told your best friend that you’d never fall in love. Maybe you’d proved yourself wrong with Bucky.

The reason you’d always told yourself that love wasn’t real was because you never knew what it was, how it felt. However, if it felt like gliding through a sunlit sky with all the time in the world to spare, with all the space around you to explore; if it felt like finding home in more than just four walls and a roof, but in two bright blue eyes and a soul just as carefree as yours (...and a worn out leather jacket...), then maybe you had fallen in love with Bucky.

Perhaps when you returned home, you’d let him know.

@dark-academics-and-florals @thefallenbibliophilequote @kimvmarvel @broco8 @domolovee @barnestruck @igotkatiepowers

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky x you #bucky barnes reader insert #bucky barnes au #biker!bucky #biker!bucky x reader

742 notes · View notes

just-call-me-the-intrusive-thot · 4 years

Text

Soulmate September - Day 11

Day 11 - Pick your favorite Soulmate AU and write about it, it can be from this list or something completely different.

(Balloon AU: you have a spirit-like balloon with the name of your soulmate written on it that only you can see. It will often drift towards your soulmate’s when they’re close by.)

Pairing(s): Romantic Logicality, Romantic Remile

TWs: Character Death (it’s loosely based on Disney’s UP, so y’all know whats going on), implied homophobia for a small section, unspecified heart condition mention

Author’s note: please forgive any inaccuracies in time periods and such, I did my best ;w;

Also don’t let the tags throw you off, this story’s bittersweet but it’s really lovely, thank you if you do indeed keep reading, ily <3

–

They met when they were just children back in March of 1950.

Logan Crofter had just come from the theatre after having seen the newest Walt Disney movie, Cinderella, when he overheard a commotion coming from the children’s park on his way home. He was always a cautious young lad but as he caught sight of his balloon begin to sway that way, Logan wasted no time in hurrying towards the sound of children arguing.

“Boys don’t wear dresses, stupid!!!”

“But it’s really pretty!!”

Logan arrived in time to see an older boy shove another boy about his age into a puddle, soaking the light blue dress he was wearing over a light t-shirt and dungarees. Upon realising the dress was likely ruined, the boy began crying. Logan wasted no time in getting between the two of them,

“Leave him alone, or I’ll inform the proper authorities!”

“.... You’ll what?”, the taller boy asked dumbfoundedly.

“It means I’ll tell your mom!!”

He was bluffing of course, Logan had no idea who the boy was, but the threat was enough to send him running. With a sigh of relief, he turned his attention to the boy in the puddle. Instead of crying anymore, he was gazing up at Logan in excited adoration,

“Wow!! You saved me!! Just like Prince Charming saved Cinderella!!!”

The boy wiped his face of tears and stood up to grasp Logan’s hands, “Thank you, thank you, thank youuuu!!”

Embarrassed by the overly sweet gesture, Logan cleared his throat, “You’re far too kind, I simply cannot tolerate bullying, I’m certainly no Prince Charming.”, he tried to assure the boy, “Truly, it was no trouble. Are you going to be alright, um-?”

“Patton!”, the boy, Patton, beamed.

A gasp left Logan, the name wasn’t that common, so perhaps…. “Patton Hart?”

The boy nodded, surprised, “That’s me-”, then realised, “A-Are you Logan Crofter!?”

Logan’s smile must’ve said it all as Patton threw his arms around him, “I can’t believe it! My soulmate saved me! I really am like Cinderella!”

“You are pretty like Cinderella as well.”, Logan offered shyly, shuffling his feet awkwardly. Patton giggled and took his hands.

“Come on! I wanna introduce you to mama!! She’ll like you lots!!”

Patton was right, Logan adored Mrs Hart from the moment they were introduced. He loved the whole family with every member he was introduced to; it wasn’t hard to see where Patton got his shining personality from, happiness and warmth radiated from every one of them. Logan remembered the way Patton had introduced him to his parents and that summer he’d done the same for all his grandparents, his ‘tios and tias’ as he referred to them, and his many cousins who welcomed Logan with open arms.

He was grateful for such a loving family especially when his own disowned him. Logan had known from the day he finally brought Patton home to meet his parents - six years after they’d first met - that they would never accept his soulmate. Despite the majority of the world’s population accepting that the soulmate bond was a fixed infallible system, the Crofters had their minds made up that their son’s soulmate would be someone worthy of their expectations. Someone stoic and serious, not bubbly and energetic. Someone who was all work and no play, not someone who wanted to have fun and just enjoy life. Someone who was female, not another male. Logan hadn’t anticipated that extra twist of the knife but all the same, he wouldn’t trade Patton for anyone else.

It was hard being fourteen and having to turn his back on the family home he’d grown up in, but as Patton’s family helped him move his things into the room they’d painstakingly cleared out for him, Logan figured that feeling would soon pass.

Throughout high school, the two grew even more inseparable; Logan helped tutor Patton in math and science while Patton helped Logan with art and music. Logan joined Patton’s cooking club to support his cause while Patton would always attend Logan’s debates, captivated by his drive and dedication.

Another routine they’d started over the years was attending the latest screenings of each new Disney movie. In truth, Logan had lost his taste for “childish exploits” around the age of ten, but he would never admit out loud that seeing the way Patton would smile during their theatre dates made his heart race faster than any other sight on the entire planet. That was why for their 27th anniversary, Logan proposed to Patton during the double bill screening of The Many Adventures of Winnie The Pooh. He burned the moment Patton threw his arms around him in sheer glee into his brain forever. He would carry the joy of hearing his soulmate - no, his husband-to-be - cry out that wonderful “yes!” with him for eternity.

Sending out the invitations had been a nerve wracking affair for Logan, but Patton had assured him that everything would be okay in the end as he sent out his half of the invitations. He knew his parents wouldn’t show so he didn’t bother to invite them, but he wasn’t sure if his grandparents or distant aunts and uncles would. Aside from them, he’d never met much of his own family, most of them residing outside of the states.

In the end, only his paternal grandparents and mother’s brother agreed to attend. Logan didn’t mind, he was just glad to have someone. Thankfully, his side of the church wouldn’t be too empty for the friends he made in his highschool years were more than happy to fill the pews.

Logan Crofter-Hart married his husband Patton Hart in the spring of 1981 after four years of planning and saving for their first home together. Logan’s endless studying and training to become a lecturer combined with Patton’s enthusiasm and drive to make money working at Foster’s Family Diner had all led up to this moment. As Logan placed the ring on Patton’s finger and promised to love and honour him - in sickness and in health, til death did they part - he couldn’t help but think himself the luckiest man alive. After the ceremony, his uncle and paternal grandparents had congratulated him, with the former asking what their next step would be.

Logan wasn’t sure about the far future, but at the time while he watched the love of his life dance and gesture for Logan to join him, all he could think to answer was “Simple, our Traditional Disney Movie Date.”, as he got up to indulge Patton’s request.

Said movie was The Fox And The Hound, and Patton, bless him, had cried for most of it. Logan draped his arm around his husband’s shoulders and softly wiped his tears with his other hand. While the scene where Todd’s owner sadly releases him into the wild played, Patton snuggled closer to Logan for comfort. Logan would deny that he teared up at that part too, though the memory of Patton humming the tune of Goodbye May Seem Forever would always stick with him even on his saddest days...

“Logan?”, Patton softly piped up as they lay in bed watching TV together one night.

Logan turned to face his husband, “Yes, starlight?”

“What do you think about...”, he hesitated, but continued at Logan’s nod of encouragement, “...us adopting?”

The idea had indeed occurred to Logan. They’d been married only a year but he knew his husband would make a wonderful father.

“.... Do you think I’d be ready, Patton?”, Logan offered unsurely. Patton softly removed his head from Logan’s shoulder and sat in his lap to properly apply one soothing hug directly to his darling husband.

“Only you’ll know for sure, but I think you’ll be an amazing father, Logie Bear.”

A soft kiss from his husband destroyed any doubt Logan had harboured. “Just imagine it, getting to watch our son or daughter grow up and get married someday! Ooh, or maybe they’ll become an astronaut! The second person to go into space!”

Logan chuckled, knowing Patton was playing on his fondness for space travel, “Perhaps, however, they would in fact be the fifth person to go into space-”

With a fond sigh, Patton brought Logan into a gentle kiss, one that Logan had no intentions of breaking to keep infodumping. He wrapped his arms around his husband’s waist, pulling him closer as if no amount of closeness would ever be enough. Another memory that would burn itself into his brain forever. Patton pulled back to his Logan with those puppy dog eyes that resulted in him getting what he wanted at least 80% of the time.

“So, does this mean you want to give adopting a try, Logie Bear?”

Feigning annoyance with a smiling eye roll and a forced huff of air, Logan replied, “Yeah. I guess-”

He spent the rest of the night returning Patton’s delighted kisses and listening to him ramble adorably about all the wonderful memories they’d make as a family.

The rejection hit the Hart couple hard; Patton even more so than Logan.

Yes, he was just as crushed by the news, but Patton was distraught.

They’d done all they could to be sure the adoption would be a success. Logan had been hired as part of the local university’s astrophysics division which did bring in enough money to allow the couple to renovate Logan’s old office room into a bedroom for their potential child. The day had been filled with laughter and, with some coercion from Patton, dancing along to the radio in between paint drying times. They’d been sure to go through all the steps, make sure their house was child friendly, even going as far as to secure references from friends and family in case they were needed.

Alas, some bad luck out of nowhere had been the first blow to the couple. After hanging on for a good decade or so, Foster’s Family Diner was bought over by a larger franchise and thus, Patton had been laid off with little warning to cut down the number of employees. The only comfort he found at the time was from his fellow staff who were devastated to see him go. The full weight of the situation really hit home when they realised it’d put enough of a dent in their income to make things a little less comfy for a while.

The second blow was the twins. Two young boys Patton had grown attached to during an Adoption Activity Day he and Logan had attended. Logan knew while he watched both boys painting his husband’s face with vastly different degrees of success, that they’d be the children Patton wanted to adopt. The boys seemed to love them too, going by their reluctance to let either of them leave at the end of the event. But the blow to their finances and the lack of a large enough room for twins had been a cause for concern with the agency, and try as the Harts might, they just weren’t able to get the room up to code in time.

Both boys were adopted that same week, and Patton further spiralled even further. Logan tried his best to try and cheer him up, but nothing seemed to work. As a last ditch attempt, Logan even requested to be able to be put in contact with the twins’ adoptive parents to ask for a visit but he was told, as anticipated, that the agency couldn’t allow it.

Logan refused to give up though. Using his university’s connections, he was able to find Patton a prospective new job; one of the researchers in the history department had a brother who worked for the local zoo. She assured Logan that with her brother’s approval, Patton would more than likely be offered the job opening they had going.

It wasn’t much, not really, but when he brought Patton to the zoo to surprise him with the offer of running the park’s souvenir shop, his husband’s glowing smile stole Logan’s breath away. For the first time in months, he heard Patton laugh with delight as he accepted the job.

With both of them working again, Logan put all of his effort into a new goal; helping Patton feel ready to adopt once more. It would be a slow venture; they cut out anything that wasn’t necessary and swapped the pricier items for store brands. The 80s rolled into the 90s and it felt like for a while the world would doom them to a life of endless saving, even having to eventually forgo their sacred cinema dates in favour of waiting for video and later DVD releases.

But they were happy.

Happy to have each other, and happily thinking of the day when they could try adopting again.

As the years went on, however, Logan began to worry. With he and his husband approaching their fifties, Patton’s hopes of adopting a young child to raise dwindled, knowing that they often gave other couples older children to look after. He knew Patton wanted to see them attend their first day of school, to teach them to ride a bike, to spend as much time as possible with them.

So Logan made a bold suggestion to Patton that night that they try again.

Patton was quiet for a while causing Logan to fear it was still too soon, but his husband agreed that it had been long enough. They once more gave adoption a try.

The second time proved to be a charm and the Harts welcomed their son - six year old Emile - into the family in 1993.

He was an eccentric, curious young lad with a love of cartoons and biology; a perfect combination for the happy parents. Not that it would have mattered in the long run, they’d have loved their son no matter what.

Logan looked to the man asleep on his shoulder and their son who had also tuckered himself out watching The Nightmare Before Christmas with them. With a fond smile, Logan rested his head against the back of the sofa, catching sight of his soul balloon. It’d been years since he’d really paid much attention to it, but the name Patton Hart still glistened in wonderous golden letters set against the baby blue of the balloon. He glanced over to Patton, seeing that same cute sleepy face he always made. Logan wondered how, whenever he believed he had hit the maximum, he ended up falling more and more in love with Patton.

The stronger the feeling grew, the more Logan felt like he could conquer anything, and he would do so in a heartbeat for his husband, and now his son too..

Love alone, however, couldn’t conquer all things.

During Emile’s 14th birthday party, Patton collapsed. It was sudden and terrifying, but thankfully Logan was able to keep him out of harm's way until the paramedics arrived. Luckily, they were able to treat Patton at home, coming to the conclusion that heat exhaustion had been the culprit when they were informed that Patton had given himself little time to rest coupled with the unusually hot day.

Logan still wanted Patton to see a doctor as soon as possible, but Patton sweetly but stubbornly insisted he was fine. He didn’t want to cause more of a scene during Emile’s big day. Reluctantly, Logan let him make the final call, relief setting in as Patton went about the rest of the day as his usual cheerful self. Logan made sure to stay by his husband just in case, but the day passed without another hitch.

That couldn’t be said for the second time.

The call came for Logan during one of his lectures; Patton had been catching up with an old coworker from his diner days who’d come to the zoo with their granddaughter when he’d just crumpled to the floor without warning. Logan wasn’t sure what exactly happened, but the next thing he knew, he was parking his car outside the hospital and desperately asking the staff where his husband was being treated.

Fortunately, once again, Patton was more or less alright. When Logan saw him sitting upright in his hospital bed chattering away to a young girl in a hospital gown, he knew for sure his husband was alright. At least for now.

“Will you ever stop giving me a heart attack?”, Logan had sighed with fond exhaustion as he sat next to Patton with his hard carding through his soft umber hair. Patton chuckled and played with the blue tie Logan was so fond of, “Not if it means you’ll keep coming to my rescue like Prince Charming.”.

Logan let out a huff of laughter, fondly recalling their first meeting. It felt like yesterday still…

“Does that mean you’re still my Cinderella?”

Patton tapped a finger to his chin and finally answered with a smile, “Maybe not. Glass slippers and fairy godmothers or not, I’d never leave your side for anything, Logie Bear.”

Logan wished Patton could have kept that promise.

The following years passed with a couple of stumbles along the way in regards to Patton’s health and still the doctor’s weren’t sure what caused his episodes. Logan was naturally worried; he and Patton were in their sixties, he knew that even though Patton kept bouncing back that one day statistically he wouldn’t be able to. That one day Patton would…

Logan didn’t allow himself to think about it. Instead he sat with his husband, enjoying the movie they’d put on; Disney’s UP. His attention wasn’t so much on the movie as it was on Patton. Every time he looked at his husband, Logan didn’t see the silver roots, eye wrinkles, and laughter lines; he saw the boy he’d moved in with at 14, the beautiful young man he went on regular cinema dates with like clockwork, the man whose excited tearful “yes!” still echoed in his brain no matter how many years had passed. 1979 felt both so long ago, yet like it was just yesterday. And now they were doing just what Logan had hoped; growing old together while their son was out in the world working as a therapist alongside his own husband.

Logan had been skeptical of Remy the first time Emile had introduced them to his parents, but in spite of their sharp tongue and sassy attitude, Logan had easily grown fond of the person who would later become his child-in-law. Logan wasn’t sure if that was the term, but he did his best to keep up. He remembered the day Emile had come home from high school, excitedly babbling about his soulmate. Patton had been on cloud nine the whole time, and while Logan was just as delighted for their son, he was too wrapped up in admiring the happiness that radiated from his husband.

Goodness, when had Logan gotten this sentimental? He asked, knowing full well he’d always been that way when it came to Pat. He decided to tune back in to the movie only to realise he’d been lost in his memories for nearly the entire run time.

On screen, Carl Fredricksen had just discovered the rest of his late wife’s additions to her adventure book. The more stoic Logan of the past would never have been swayed by such a heart-string tugging moment, but well. The years had softened that stony exterior. At least, that's what he told himself while he felt tears roll down his cheeks silently. Patton’s gentle thumb wiping away his tears, drew his attention, noting that his husband was also tearing up. But my god, that smile. Logan could’ve stared at that sunshine grin til the end of time itself. Seizing the moment, Logan gently leant in to give Patton a kiss, which his husband returned in kind.

At that moment, Logan had an idea. It took a lot of string pulling to make it happen, granted, but he refused to allow anything to get in the way of his plans.

January of 2010 saw Patton’s 66th’s birthday roll in, and Logan first surprised his husband by driving their old car, a blue 1955 Ford Thunderbird, into the driveway. It wasn’t in the greatest condition, having been kept in their garage for years, but Logan had secretly washed and maintained it leading up to today. It still had their cassette tape in the player; the Beach Boys’ Wouldn’t It Be Nice played just as it had back in the day.

The car was only one of the surprises Logan had in store; he’d found an old diner that, while it wasn’t much like Foster’s, was dedicated to capturing the 1980s vibe they were both familiar with. After a couple of milkshakes and Patton’s insistence that they dance together when the jukebox would play their favourite tunes, Logan parked outside of a familiar sight.

Their old theatre and origin of Patton’s nickname, The Starlight; it’d been renamed of course, but thankfully the former owner’s daughter remembered the couple from back in her father’s day, and so Logan had asked if the old sign could be replaced just this once. She’d done one better, adding a lovely “Happy Birthday Patton!” banner underneath. Logan wasn’t sure if hugs could be fatal, but the one Patton sent his way nearly crushed him with the weight of it’s love.

Once inside the foyer, Logan directed Patton to their private screening of Cinderella. He had wanted the same movie he’d proposed to Patton with initially, but alas, the owner couldn’t track it down in time, thus they went with the movie that had led Logan to his soulmate in the first place. The Harts sat in a comfortable silence throughout the film; they didn’t need to say anything, their intertwined hands and soft sighs of adoration were enough. When the movie ended, they began to drive home until Patton spoke up, “Logan, look!”, he gestured out the window towards a familiar sight; the park where they’d met.

The old equipment had been removed and changed somewhat over the years, but the familiar landmarks were all still there. Logan didn’t need to be asked the question as he parked nearby and walked with his beloved towards the spot where they’d met. The small indent in the ground where the same puddle he’d helped Patton out of was still there in all it’s sentimental glory. Logan raised an eyebrow as Patton sat at the edge of the former puddle until he realised what he was up to,

“Oh no! I’ve fallen! And I can’t get up! Oh where is my Prince Charming who shall come to save me?!”

Logan had to stifle his laughter with his hand for a second before offering it to Patton, rolling his eyes fondly as he stated, “I’m here, I’m here, don’t worry, fair Cinderella.”

He helped Patton to his feet, stumbling a little but thankfully he caught his husband in his waiting arms. With a smile that shone like the gold of his soul balloon’s cursive, Patton met Logan’s eyes, whispering a soft, loving, “I love you, Logan.”

Logan gently brushed a strand of Patton’s hair away from his soulmate’s eyes, “I love you too, Patton.”

The two began to walk back to the car, hand in hand, while Patton explained to Logan where he’d gotten the blue dress he’d met him in when Patton stopped.

“Patton? Is everything alright-?”

Patton’s breathing hastened, and before he could try and say he was okay, he curled in on himself, grasping his chest. Terrified for his husband, Logan called 911, doing his best to get Patton to the car to drive him to A&E.

Nothing was alright.

Logan stayed by Patton’s side in hospital when the doctors delivered the bad news.

Heart failure.

The doctor was apologetic the whole time - “I’m so sorry” “If only we’d caught it sooner” “Too late for a transplant” “Surgery would only prolong the inevitable” - but Logan couldn’t bear to hear it. The love of his life lay dying in a cold, sterile room when he should be at home; dancing around their living room, baking with him in their kitchen, laying next to him in bed as they held hands and regaled each other with happy memories and countless “I love you”s.

The decision wasn’t difficult, not for Logan anyway. The doctors offered to let Logan take him home so he could pass in the comfort of his own home, and while Emile had tried to convince his parents to try for more time in hospital, his fathers both refused. Patton was stubborn when he wanted to be, and Logan even more so. They’d wasted three days with Logan having to stay in hospital with Patton, he wasn’t about to jeopardise any more time.

Emile and Remy came to visit each day once Patton came home. Neither one would comment on just how tired he looked, but Logan could see the concern in their faces. They both knew as well as Logan that any day could be Patton’s last. Every time they left, both would hold Patton tightly, making sure to always leave with an “I love you, dad”, no matter how late it made them for an appointment or the like.

One night, Logan noticed Patton was sitting outside on the porch step in the early morning sunrise, in one hand was a pack of balloons, and in the other, some string and markers.

“What’re you up to, starlight?”, Logan questioned curiously, unable to stop himself smiling as Patton sent him a smile at the old nickname.

“Just wanted to try something, Logie Bear. Here, you can pick out your color.”

Ah. Logan understood, rifling through the pack for the right shade of baby blue to make his soul balloon. He and Patton had of course described their balloons to each other, “Mine’s this lovely dark blue with silver writing! Bold and smart, just like you, Logan!”, Patton had said. He watched Patton try to blow up the balloon, but upon giving himself a coughing fit, Logan went to get the helium pump he’d used for the balloons at Emile’s 14th birthday.

Once both balloons were safely inflated and tied with some string, the Harts set about writing each other’s name in an imitation of their respective soul balloon. Patton wasn’t sure whether to write Logan’s married name or the one on the balloon, but Logan assured him he didn’t mind. With both balloons finished, the couple tied the ends of their strings together, Patton requesting Logan take some pictures with his phone to show Emile and Remy later. With the request indulged - along with some depicting the couple sat cuddled together with their respective balloons - the two held out the tied end of the balloons and let them go.

Bobbing in the wind, the balloons carried themselves into the sky, twirling in a dance as they soared towards the clouds. The Harts watched until they could no longer see the pair anymore; eventually just sitting side by side on the porch, their fingers locked together and their heads rested against one another.

The morning was stunning; soft cloudy skies that let the sun peek through while a warm breeze drifted by.

“Hey, Logie Bear?”, Patton quietly requested. His voice ghostly even in it’s happiness.

“Yes, starlight?”

Logan couldn’t explain how or why he knew that it’d be the last thing he heard Patton say, but he simply held his husband of thirty nine years, his soulmate since birth, even closer as Patton’s last words carved themselves into his memory;

“Thanks for the adventure.”, his stunning eyes met Logan’s one last time, “I love you, Logan.”

“You too, Patton,”, Logan couldn’t stop the tears that rolled down his cheeks, ��I love you too.”

Even as Patton’s grip loosened, as his eyes closed, as his breathing shuddered to a halt, Logan stayed with his husband for hours. He knew he’d soon have to break the news to their son before the poor lad and his husband found them still sitting together like always. But Logan couldn’t bring himself to move an inch.

“I’d never leave your side for anything, starlight...”

--------

I’m not crying I’m SOBBING

This one has me in tears just rereading it to make last minute corrections, god...

Day 12 will be back to much happier themes, I promise!

@tsshipmonth2020

Taglist: @somehow-i-got-an-account @cateye-glasses @fandomsofrandom

106 notes · View notes

zestyquetzalcoatl · 4 years

Text

Luck is petty.

Like everything else about his luck, Gladstone hates this and loves it in equal turns, often both at once.

It’s pettiness means he always knows that people’s minds are their own (or at least not influenced by him). Once someone has decided he is insufferable and deserving of only a kick in the pants, it cannot make them give him things or put up with him anyway (ignoring the odd encounters he’s had with a chicken in a bright pink cape.*1 He’s pretty certain something entirely different then luck was at play there, though he has no idea what), which is why he mostly gets given free stuff by strangers instead of people who have met him before. It can influence the physical world, and that alone.

He loves this about it because it means he can exert some level of control over it, want and hate and whittle down its options until it’s forced to give him what he actually wants. He loves it because he is terrified of what it could do if it wasn’t petty. How far it could go, how much it could effect, how badly it would twist the world around it, while he would have no control or hope of containing it.

He hates it because petty luck is petty. It cares about riches, wining bets, getting free things, and curtailing talent and hard work. It can’t (and doesn’t) win him friends or happiness or love. It protects his physical health but doesn’t give a damn about his mental, content to let him be abused and taken advantage of (especially if that gives it another chance to win a prize), so long as he isn’t hungry, isn’t homeless, and isn’t injured. (Liu Hai’s was not the first gilded cage he’d been trapped in, just one that was unusually hard to escape.)

Luck is petty but Gladstone is not.

Sometimes (when the chips are down and the stakes are high) this means that his luck has to play by Gladstone’s rules.

———————————————O0—0—0O————————————————

Gladstone had run into Fethry by complete chance earlier in the day, and he’d spent the last several hours cheerfully walking and chatting with his red-hatted cousin as they meandered their way across town. Gladstone’s luck had been in full effect as they walked, guiding their route via construction sites that had blocked roads, flying $20 bills and interesting butterflies that tempted them down back alleys and side streets, and a very memorable dumpster that gave Gladstone a bad jump scare by falling over and releasing about twenty cats into the general area. The path they’d taken had been dictated largely by whatever looked like the least hassle, and had eventually ended up with them down by the docks, getting lost amongst the warehouses and shipping containers of the many trading companies that had operations in Duckburg Harbor.

Gladstone didn’t mind being utterly lost, he never had. His luck meant they’d get where they ought to go without being late, so he was content to simply wander at random while he enjoyed his cousin’s enthusiastic rambling.

Popping out of a particularly out-of-the-way alley, he realized that he and Fethry had ended up at the main road, less then twenty yards from the beginning of the pier. What was more, he could see Donald’s car.

It was pulled just off of the asphalt and onto the concrete, and parked behind a pile of boxes large enough that it likely couldn’t be spotted from anywhere except the small alley they’d just exited. The 313 was old, and in even worse repair then normal, with one of its mirrors duct taped on, and a couple of its fender skirts boasting decently sized dents. Slumped in the driver’s seat was Donald, with blood on his beak.

For a moment Gladstone felt like he had been plunged underwater.

He had seen his unlucky cousin injured before, many times even. Donald, Della, and Scrooge were always finding a way to get themselves into life-or-death danger, and even when they weren’t trouble managed to find Donald anyway. He’d seen his cousin thrown through walls, struck by lightning, almost crushed by falling boulders, and passed out in all sorts of places weirder then his own oddly parked car. But for all that, he’s rarely, if ever, seen his cousin bleed, so he thinks it’s probably the blood that makes everything about his just scream wrong.

The underwater-feeling, the feeling of wrongness, is intense, blurring the edges of the world and muffling all sound. He can just barely hear himself shout through the veil of unreality that, for one long moment, seems to drown him.

“Donald?!”

Beside him Fethry stops talking, then the underwater-feeling shatters to make way for the electrocuting feeling of ice-cold terror, and the next moment he and Fethry are both sprinting for the car.

Donald wakes up when they reach the car, both of them somewhat crashing into it in their panic. The more important thing, is that there are bloody petals in Donald’s lap. Gladstone suddenly feels like there’s something caught in his own throat that he has to force words out past, because he knows what bloody petals mean, but no no No NO—

“Donald, Donald what, w-who—“

Any doubt is swept away when Donald goes to respond and starts choking instead, coughing up not just bloody petals but entire flower heads. Red, Blue, Green, Pink, Gold, and White, all different shapes and kinds. Gladstone feels like every emotion he has has been flicked on at once, a white-hot intensity that burns through him just waiting to explode outward. The world around him is in crystalline clarity, all his senses turned up to eleven and recording in overwhelming detail, and he’s feeling everything at once. He knows what hanahaki is but he doesn’t know his flowers, can’t decipher what’s before him. Can’t know and can’t guess and can’t let Donald die.

Donald finishes hacking up a morbid bouquet and starts trying to tell him and Fethry, voice garbled even worse then normal, about having several hours left and wanting to be next to the ocean. Fethry is listening to Donald. Gladstone is doing anything but.

He hasn’t been Cloverleaf in years, and it’s been just as long since he actively controlled his luck. Focusing in the draining way it takes to Curse or Bless is not something he does outside of the mask, instead just letting Gladstone Gander be blown wherever his luck wishes to take him.

But by god he does it now, pouring everything he can into Blessing Donald more intensely then he’s ever done before, wanting and pushing, making bets against himself with devastating consequences if Donald dies. Deciding, with no hesitation or room for chance, what he’ll do —do to himself— if this goes wrong. Gladstone will never be okay again if Donald dies, making his luck agree is just a matter of making sure it knows that he means physically too.

He stifles and kills the urge to Curse whoever hurt his cousin, because that won’t help Donald now. But eyes are burning red with roiling anger, fear and worry adding fuel to the fire, the temper he shares with Donald on the few occasions he’s well and truly ticked on full display. And he will not release his death grip on his cousin’s arm.

And Gladstone doesn’t know it, but Paperinik has seen Cloverleaf Curse and Bless before, and can very much recognize the light static electricity jumping between his cousin’s feathers and the look of vicious concentration on his cousin’s face, even if he wasn’t expecting it at all.

Several miles across town in McDuck Mansion, six people discover they abruptly need Donald for something all at once. The worry that begins to break out when they can’t find him anywhere bubbles over into full blown panic as one of them trips into a trashcan, and a bunch of bloody petals are flung out as it goes flying.

———————————————O0—0—0O————————————————

Well! That wasn’t how I was expecting to loose my day. @bamboozledeagle this is your fault, I woke up to your Hanahaki post sitting at the top of my Tumblr dash, and spent the whole rest of the day writing it on-and-off. Then when I went to post it the WiFi crashed :/ so I had to wait a day.

This is completely unedited, so sorry about any glaring mistakes. I probably change style several times and I think I even changed tense once on accident. Oops. Also sorry about the formatting, I wrote it on notepad and then just copy-pasted to here, and only bothered fixing the italics.

The Gladstone/Cloverleaf on display here is my own version that I started playing around with after reading this post by @adamarinayu: https://adamarinayu.tumblr.com/post/176467180262/hey-yall asking for a competent version of Cloverleaf, but haven’t actually written anything with prior to this.

Blessing and Cursing is just what he calls manipulating his luck to make good things or bad things happen to other people. It also has the added bonus of helping protect his identity by making Cloverleaf seem magical instead of lucky.

Oh and Bam, the chicken in a pink cape line is also your fault by the way: *1 https://bamboozledeagle.tumblr.com/post/617956657118511104/i-love-how-in-your-and-other-peoples-aus

Sorry if the links don’t work on mobile.

#ZCQ writes #duckverse #ducktales 2017 #hanahaki #gladstone gander #donald duck #fethry duck #cloverleaf #duck avenger #paperinik #only for like a sentence but he gets mentioned #first work in this fandom #june #2020 #ZCQ post #this is how i tag right?

229 notes · View notes

fletchphoenix · 4 years

Text

Bittersweet Aftertastes

Hey gamers - its me with chapter 5 of the Varigo Coffee Shop AU. Yet again, thank you for all the support I’ve received on this - now, on with the chapter!

TW - Strong Language

Word Count - 3858

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

Consoling the boy in front of him was...not an easy task to say the least, endless streams of tears leaving his eyes which broke Hugo’s heart each time one rolled down his now-red face, flushed from crying. He just wanted to scoop Varian up and take him away from all of this - to be alone with him where they didn’t have to worry about anything else. Obviously that wasn’t an option, but that didn’t stop him from silently pleading to the universe for it to become one.

Hugo threaded his fingers through the smaller boy’s hair, letting them sit on the floor of his hallway in each other’s embrace and kissing his forehead as he soothed him. He whispered sweet nothings to him to provide the boy with some sense of comfort as the storm inside him brewed. Sobs died down into pathetic little whimpers, akin to a wounded animal or a kicked puppy, and tears stopped making little puddles in his shirt.

“Feeling better?” Hugo enquired, leaning back slightly to allow himself to see the pained boy’s face. Blotched cheeks met him, eyes swollen from his extensive crying and his bottom lip quivering as he nodded, moving closer to Hugo again as they stood and walked down the hall towards the living room. Carefully, Hugo sat Varian down on the fern green couch before kissing his forehead yet again and moving back. “I’ll be right back, okay?” Hugo muttered, waiting for Varian’s nod of approval before he turned on his heel and exited the room.

In only a few strides, he arrived in the kitchen again, immediately striding over to a moss-green cabinet beside his stove, crouching and opening it. Taking out two cups, a sapphire one and an, of course, jade one, before setting them aside and starting the coffee machine. Searching the various other cabinets and cupboards around the cramped room rewarded him with some vanilla syrup (some that he TOTALLY didn’t buy just in case Varian came over, no way) before sauntering back over to the discarded cups. He distracted himself by setting the cups under the machine and letting them fill, sitting down on the counter and scrolling through his phone in silence. Looking up, his eyes glossed over the boy in the living room, who sat staring at the floor with a troubled expression on his face.

Hugo pushed down the feelings of guilt building in his stomach as he turned back to the coffee machine, sliding off the counter and adding the syrup along with one teaspoon of brown sugar into the sapphire mug. ‘What happened in the car?’ he pondered as he stirred the dark liquid in the cup, pouring in the milk deep in thought. What did Varian’s brother have against him? At least, he thought it was his brother, the brunette man bore no physical resemblance to Varian at all and looked far too young to be the father, let alone the father of a nineteen year old. Nevertheless, it didn’t explain his...for lack of a better word, explosive reaction to the pair. Hugo thought back, but no, he couldn’t remember a point in time where he’d potentially robbed the guy - he’d remember a face as unique as that. Shit, he thought as he stopped stirring, drops of coffee dribbling down his hand. “VERY smart, Hugo..” he groaned as he grabbed some tissue to clean his hand with, picking up the two cups and strolling to the kitchen.

“Hey V, I’ve got your drink.” he said softly, placing it on the table in front of the boy and taking a seat beside him. The boy only gave a soft smile in response, picking up the cup and taking a sip. He hummed in satisfaction, taking the time to shuffle closer to the blonde and cuddle against him, muttering a barely audible ‘thank you’ as Hugo’s arm snaked around his shoulders to pull him closer to him. He looked so helpless. He didn’t deserve to feel that way whatsoever. Hugo felt his heart ache. “You wanna talk about it now? It’s fine if not, I just…thought it might help you I guess?”

He cursed to himself mentally. Why was he so bad at comforting people? Why was he so awkward? Why couldn’t he just...be normal and not stutter and stammer through each sentence when he was around the other boy, who had now set his cup aside and cuddled against him further before clearing his throat. “Don’t feel pressured to, Varian. I was just-”

“No, Hugo. I’m ready to talk. You deserve to know everything.” he uttered, cutting Hugo off. His eyes, filled with guilt, had a sadness behind them while he sat with his shoulder slumped. Defeated was the only word that came to mind as Varian let out a sigh, proceeding with his explanation.

“He said that you’re a criminal and that you’ll never change. I don’t believe that thought. At all. You see, Eugene used to be like that - a criminal who went by the alias Flynn Rider. He was a petty thief - pickpocketing and all that jazz. Until he decided to steal from the mayor. Cue Rapunzel. She convinced her dad not to hurt him, and she promised she could help him get on the right side of the tracks. And he did! He turned his life around - he even joined the Coronan police force with Lance and helped improve the rehabilitation of criminals in jails in positive ways! She helped him become better, but it just frustrated me about what he said because...” he let out a frustrated groan, slumping back on the couch and tugged his hair.

“He’s not the only one with a dark past.” Varian added, clear as day. Confusion washed over Hugo’s face as he looked at Varian’s darkened, deathly serious expression. What else was he hiding? Of course he didn’t want to push him too far, but now...his interest had peaked and his curiosity got the better of him as he waited for the rest of the explanation.

“When I was fourteen, I hurt my dad really badly. So badly, in fact, that he went into a coma. By that point, my mother had left and I had no one to turn to. So I ran, in the middle of a snowstorm mind you, to the mayor’s house. I begged and begged for help, for someone to listen to me, or to give me some money to be able to afford a good hospital for my dad to recover in! But no one did. I felt tossed aside, so I did what any kid my age would do. I turned to crime to try and raise money for my dad’s hospital bills. I was desperate. And that’s when I met Andrew.” Another lengthy pause.

“I’d sell drugs for his gang, the Saporians, and they’d give me a cut of the money so that when dad finally did wake up, we’d be just fine financially. Then they wanted me to rob a cottage. I really really didn’t want to, but...the thought of seeing my dad again made me. But I got caught by Rapunzel, the mayor’s daughter. If she wanted to, she could’ve just called the cops on me and gotten me arrested. But she didn’t.”

“She told me all about the night I begged her for help and that she desperately wanted to, but there were citizens severely in danger because of the snowstorm, and she had to help them before she could help me. From there, she forgave me. She forgave me for trying to rob her and all my other crimes. I helped her to take down the Saporian gang - as it turns out, they were planning to attack the city..and she helped fund my father’s hospital funds. Hell, she even let me stay with her while I was waiting for him to get better. And he did. I got my dad back and everything went back to normal.”

“My point is...Eugene’s being a hypocrite. He knows me and him did some bad stuff - but we changed. And I know you can.I just hope you don’t..think differently of me” He commented, the expression on his face solemn as he looked at Hugo. Hugo sat, lost for words, as he stared at the boy in front of him. Wow. That was...a lot of emotional baggage that was just unpacked. Not that it was a problem - in fact, Varian talking about his feelings was FAR better than him keeping them in but..wow.

“Varian.” he began, taking the younger boy’s hands in his own. “I don’t care who you were before, I care who you are now. So what if you were a criminal? So was I. I grew up on the streets after my parents abandoned me at birth. It was hard, but I had to do it to survive. Then Donella took me in and showed me a different way to make money - using my engineering skills to take commissions and make machines for people and sell them.” He paused for a second, realising he was rambling. “What i mean to say is...I love you, Varian. Regardless of who you were before. I love you.” Shakily, he stopped and their eyes locked, anxiety building in his stomach as Varian’s eyes studied his face in silence. “I’m sorry if I’m moving too fast with this-fuck,I should go-”

His words were cut off as the younger boy lunged forward, wrapping his arms round the blonde’s neck and knocking him back onto the sofa. Their lips met in an admittedly sloppy kiss, neither of them really caring as Hugo’s hand drifted to rest on Varian’s waist. They settled into the kiss, heads tilting and eyes remaining shut as their lips moved against each other in perfect harmony, with the only sound they could hear being each other’s heartbeats as their chests pressed against each other and the occasional breathy moan escaping from either boy’s mouth.

Varian was the one to break the kiss, sitting in Hugo’s lap with a wide grin plastered on his face as he stared down at the older male with the utmost affection in his eyes. “I love you too, Hugo. I love you so much-god, it feels so good to finally say that. I love you, I love you, I love you.” He kept repeating, giving time for Hugo to prop himself up on his elbows and lean in for another kiss - this one being far superior to the amateur one prior. It was slow, sweet and gave Hugo plenty of time to savour the taste of vanilla that lingered on Varian’s lips.

Hugo, eventually managing to pry Varian off his lap with very little struggling from the other, picked the teen up in his arms and trailed fleeting kisses down his neck and across his collarbone as they stumbled to his room, the soft moans Varian let out not helping Hugo’s ability to focus in the slightest. Despite all odds, they got there and Hugo immediately got to work. Laying Varian down, he hovered over him and proceeded to kiss him senseless, pulling back to observe the swollen lips and scarlet blush over his face that he’d grown so accustomed to seeing. He loved it. He loved everything about this boy - the name Varian now synonymous with perfection in his mind. Alas, he was exhausted and didn’t want to push the other too far after the absolute rollercoaster today was.

“As much as I would love to take this further, and believe me, I would, I’m exhausted and want my eight hour beauty sleep, thank you very much.” he stated as he lay down beside Varian, pulling him close by his waist and into a tight embrace.

“Yeah, you sure as hell need it.” Varian added snarkily, cackling as Hugo began to tickle him. “NO! Ah-Fuck! I’m sorry! Just stop!” he yelled between fits of laughter as he curled up into a ball against the man beside him. Hugo relented, his arm moving around the raven haired teen as he rested his head on his chest after pulling the green bed covers over them both. “Goodnight Hugo..I love you.” he whispered, his eyes fluttering shut as he drifted off to sleep.

Hugo took a second to admire the boy, the same lovestruck smile creeping its way onto his face yet again. He was so stunning no matter what he did. Hugo couldn’t get enough of him - his greed proving useful for once in his life. A sigh of happiness left his lips as he placed a gentle kiss on the sleeping boy’s forehead. “I love you too, Varian. Goodnight, my dear.”

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

As Varian’s eyes opened in the morning, the first thing that registered in his brain was the unusually large amount of sunlight bleeding in through the window. As he grew accustomed to this invasive light, he realised. He wasn’t in his room. It was too green, and the lack of a particular fatass cat just proved his point further.

The second thing that registered was the sound of humming heading closer and closer to the door. The door swung open and in stepped Hugo, carrying a small tray with two plates stacked with blueberry pancakes, two cups and a bottle of syrup. His hair wasn’t tied up yet, the golden locks sitting a few inches above his shoulders and concealing that dumb undercut. (He’d claimed it was a ‘pinnacle of fashion’ that Varian wouldn’t understand considering how his outfit on that day was, in his words, ‘a fashion crime worthy of a life sentence’, however Varian begged to differ.)

“Hey beautiful. Hope you’re okay with blueberry pancakes. They’re the only breakfast food I can cook, and as a poor college student, I can’t afford a toaster, so these were the only option.” He elaborated as he placed the tray on a desk pressed against a wall. A desk with a silver cage on, housing a tiny, gold furred mouse. Hugo sauntered over with Varian’s plate and cup, handing it to him.

“Wow, your rat matches you.” he commented, a smug grin on his face as he shuffled up into a seating position to take a sip from his coffee. He set it aside on the bedside table and dug into his pancakes, moaning as he took his first bite. “Holy shit Hugo, where did you learn to cook like this? It’s perfect!”

“Darling, I was blessed with impeccable culinary skills from birth. Isn’t that right, Livi?” he glanced over at the mouse, who let out a little squeak as he sat on the bed beside Varian, placing a kiss to his temple before beginning to eat. “Her name’s Olivia. The mouse, I mean. I’ve had her for a few months, but she’s a darling.” he explained as he began to eat his pancakes, letting his boyfriend cuddle against him. Hugo bit his lip gently as his eyes caught sight of the purple bruises across Varian’s neck and collarbone, his cheeks gaining a deep red tint to them.

“Makes sense. Also, you wanna explain the weird obsession with green? I swear, the amount of green I’ve seen here..you could have your own episode of My Strange Addiction!” he laughed before his gaze met Hugo’s now-solemn expression. “Shit, Hugh I’m sorry if I upset you, I didn’t-”

“It’s fine. First off, I have an aesthetic to uphold and I’m not giving it up for anything. And..well, where I grew up..it was called Pittsford. Worst place in the world. Very economically divided. It uh..I grew up in the poor part of town, which was all just mines and vendors. All of the parks and greenery were in the higher class parts..parts we weren’t allowed in as ‘filthy, lower-class peasants’. As soon as me and Donella moved here, there was so much green everywhere...so much grass and so many trees...I couldn’t get enough! I fell in love with the color, hence why it’s everywhere. I just don’t want to not see it again.” he finished, glancing over at Varian. “Sob story, right? Sorry for bringing down the mood.”

Varian smiled sadly, reaching up to turn his boyfriend’s head in his direction. “I think it’s a cute quirk. I’ll be sure to wear more green.” He stated, defining every word before placing a soft, loving kiss to Hugo’s lips, cupping his cheek.

“Oh no you don’t! Green is my color!” Hugo declared as he leaned down, pushing his boyfriend back against the pillows and peppering kisses all over his face before proceeding to kiss his lips again. Slowly but surely, it got more intense between them, with Hugo’s hands moving to slide up Varian’s shirt and fingers danced across the skin beneath it before Varian broke the kiss. “We should-” he tried to catch his breath, panting and breathing heavily, “we should take this slower, okay?”

“Fine by me, hairstripe!” he smiled, removing his hands and standing. He gathered some clothes from his closet. “Don’t mind me, I’m going to have a shower, alright?” he asked, watching as Varian nodded.

“Hey Hugo?” Varian spoke, Hugo with one foot out the door as he turned on his heel to look at the boy in his bed. He looked adorable with bedhead. Hugo should invite him to stay the night more often, he noted. “Does uh..does this make us boyfriends?”

Hugo shrugged. “I don’t mind. Do you want us to be?” He asked, Varian immediately replying with a frantic nod of approval. With a wicked grin, Hugo strode over and lowered himself onto one knee. “Okay then, Varian Ruddiger! Would you do me the pleasure of becoming my boyfriend?” He proclaimed, taking Varian’s hands in his own.

“You’re such a dork.” The other replied, though the smile on his face spoke volumes to what he was truly thinking about the scene in front of him. “But yes, I shall become your boyfriend, Hugo Atkinson. Now go enjoy your shower! You need it!”

Hugo shoved Varian as he laughed hysterically and gathered his clothes in his arms again. He took one last look at the teen before he strolled down to the bathroom across the hall. He ran the water and leaned back against the door, resting his hand over his mouth to hide his ridiculously wide smile. Wow. Varian was his boyfriend. Varian Ruddiger was his boyfriend. He couldn’t help the bubbly feeling that took over his body as he trailed his hand through his hair. He really was the luckiest guy in the world.

Varian let out a little giggle and fell back against the pillows again, stunned into silence. He really was dating the biggest nerd in the world, huh? And the best thing was..he couldn’t be happier. Everything was looking up for him - thanks to his and Eugene’s argument, him and the boy he loved were finally together.

He swung his legs over the bed to find he’d slept in the same clothes he wore yesterday, cringing slightly. No wonder he was so uncomfortable. There was no way he was borrowing Hugo’s clothes either - those things would dwarf him if he even attempted to wear them. That thought didn’t stop him, however, from sneakily taking a green hoodie from the closet, the Corona High symbol on the arm. He pulled it on and walked through the apartment.

Despite how small it was, he loved the place. It was so Hugo - every inch of it felt exactly like his boyfriend had decorated it. Huh, boyfriend. The thought made the corners of his lips twitch up in a ghost of a smile. It sounded right - like it was meant to be used to describe Hugo and only Hugo. However, one thing that shocked him was the significant lack of pictures. The only thing that came close were framed movie posters, the rest being newspaper headlines and neon green sticky notes which, upon closer inspection, had questions on various topics about engineering. He’d have to buy him some frames and take more pictures when they went out - that way Hugo would have more to hang on the walls.

His eyes passed over the shelves against the wall, filled to the brim with books on engineering, chemistry, physics and biology. He took one out and skimmed through the pages. They seemed very outdated and old - so most likely a hand-me-down. Maybe they were from that Donella woman he kept bringing up? Anyhow, he slid the book back into place on the shelf and continued his journey down the hall to the living room.

As he passed a mirror in the hallway, he caught sight of purple bruises littered around his neck and collarbones. Oh my god, Eugene was going to kill him-

Oh shit.

Eugene.

He dashed into the living room and searched frantically for his phone, finding it on the glass coffee table alongside the coffee cups they’d discarded last night in favour of more..engaging activities. He picked it up and checked the home screen. Thirteen missed calls from Eugene, ten from Rapunzel. He was in trouble next time he saw them, he thought.

“V?” Hugo’s voice called through the apartment as he entered the room, his eyebrow raised as he tied his hair back. “You alright there, dollface?” he asked, walking to his boyfriend and wrapping his arms around his waist from behind. “Are you okay?” He enquired yet again, placing a gentle kiss to the junction between Varian’s collarbone and neck.

“Hugh, we’re in trouble.” He said simply, showing Hugo the screen. The other boy’s eyes widened and he stepped back. “Shit, V.” he chewed his bottom lip in thought before slumping onto the couch. “I uh...how about you send them the address and...and we can all try and talk it out?” he reasoned.

Varian gulped and pressed ‘Call’ under Rapunzel’s contact, joining his boyfriend on the sofa and letting himself be pulled into yet another embrace by the taller male. It rang. One...two..three times before a frantic voice came through on the other end.

“Varian Ruddiger, we have been worried SICK about you!” she declared through the phone, the boy in question pulling the device away from his ear slightly and wincing. “Where are you? Are you okay? Please tell me you’re safe-”

“Rapunzel, I’m fine. I just...I need to talk to you. And Eugene. At Hugo’s apartment. I’ll send through the address just...please. I need you to hear us out. To hear me out.” he sighed and leant back against him, his head resting on the other teen’s chest who proceeded to play with his hair.

A long silence came from the other end of the phone before a sigh came through. “Okay.” she said, finally, “Send it through and we’ll be there as soon as possible. I love you, Varian.”

“I love you too, Rapunzel.” He said softly, hanging up and sending the address of Hugo’s apartment to his sister, letting out a breath he didn’t even realise he’d been holding in. Now all that was left to do was wait, he thought as Hugo held him in his arms.

God, he hoped this went well.

#varigo #varian and the seven kingdoms #varian x hugo #varian tangled #tangled varian #hugo tangled #tangled hugo #alchemy boyfriends #varigo coffee shop au

26 notes · View notes

x-ximenas · 4 years

Text

Midnight (Pt.1)

Prompt: Midnight - 5SOS. Future parts are linked to other songs so...

Pairing: Female!Reader/Roger Taylor

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, mentions of sex (I don’t go in full detail, but there are big innuendos) and my terrible grammar and punctuation remember English’s not my first language.

Word Count: 3,291 words

A/N: This has been on my drafts for a loooong while, but I never had the guts to post it, nor the time to do something about it, so I’m a little rusty -as mentioned in my Nikki Sixx bit- but I’m trying. Also, if you liked this bit, I’d love to hear some comments! If you’d like to be added to a taglist for upcoming parts comment, dm me, ask me… just communicate with me!

A/N pt.2: Like most of the time, I took a few literary liberties, there are some movie things, there’s some real stuff, so... yeah.

A/N pt.3: If you’re looking to read some Brian stuff, I have a multipart story (pt. 1, pt. 2) -sadly not finished- but if you read it and like it I’ll do my best to do something about it.

// Part 2 //

———————————————————————————————————–

Smile, shake hands, leave.

She crossed one leg over the other just to uncross them again and cross them once more. She repeated this process a couple of times before settling with crossing her legs by the ankles. Now, she started tapping her fingers in a rhythm that sounded familiar, but she couldn’t quite make out so she stopped to look down at her hands that were resting over her lap, rings adorning almost every finger, heaving she started to play with the one that was on her index.

“Everything’s alright, miss?” asked the kind taxi driver who had been watching her fidget through the rearview mirror.

“Yes, thanks.” She quickly replied, too quickly.

“You got a date?” The driver inquired.

“No.”

“Oh, I thought, considering your nervousness.” He added.

“Oh, no, I’m just… I don’t know, having second thoughts, maybe I-”

“Do you want me to drop you back from where I picked you up?” He asked.

“No, no, no, I’m fine, thanks though.” She smiled.

“No problems, miss.”

She sighed, leaning back on the cab’s leather backseat, folding her arms one over the other as she stared out the window. Like she just told the driver, Y/N was -indeed- having second thoughts, completely regretting telling her friends a thing as she was now forced to actually go to the pub where he was performing. She should’ve turned down his offer right away, he was too drunk and too tired to even know what he was saying:

“Come to my next show, love, you’ll have fun.” He tried to persuade her. She almost didn’t catch what he had said from how slurred the words were, but in the end, she did.

“What?” Was all she managed to say, but he had already fallen asleep, he didn’t hear a thing.

“Miss?” The driver said.

“Yes?” Y/N answered, snapping out of her daydream.

“We’re already here, miss.”

“Oh, thanks. How much is it for the drive?” she asked, rummaging through her purse.

“5 pounds, miss.” He answered.

“Here you go -she handed him the money-, thanks!” She told him, climbing off the car.

Smile, shake hands, leave.

She smoothed out her off-the-shoulders red top and pulled down the ends of her high-waisted shorts that had ridden up when she was sitting down. With a mumble of a curse she walked into the pub, the smell of cigarettes and booze hitting her immediately, she straightened her shoulders and tried to stand on her tiptoes and find her friends but the first thing she caught sight of was a certain blond getting friendly with some random brunette, averting her eyes she kept on looking until she found the small group sitting on a booth.

“Y/N! For a moment I thought you might have bailed on us” Kat mocked with a smirk.

“I couldn’t, I was responsible for this gathering after all” Y/N mumbled with a tight smile.

“Wow, what got your knickers in a twist” Donna practically yelled, hitting Y/N on the arm.

“Nothing, I just didn’t feel like coming after all” Y/N mumbled annoyed.

“But you sounded so excited when you told us earlier this morning, you said they’re really good!” Kat questioned slightly surprised.

“Yeah, I just- I don’t know…” Y/N mumbled once more, looking into the distance, her eyes fixed on the blond man, who was getting dangerously close to the brunette’s face just to pull away with a satisfied grin.

“I’m going for a drink” Y/N told her friends, leaving them dumbfounded.

Smile, shake hands, leave.

Y/N tried to squeeze herself between spaces, not minding to excuse herself when she walked in the middle of someone’s conversation, all that she needed at the moment was a drink, straight -no soda water, nothing- just a straight shot of whatever she can get her hands on.

Suddenly she bumped into someone, she was about to tell them off but she stayed quiet when she saw who it was:

“Roger?” she swallowed thickly.

He didn’t even bother on answering, he just kept on walking towards the side of the stage, the guitarist next to him, Brian she recalled from their conversations

“Don’t be rude, Rog.” Brian said, but he didn’t manage to stop Roger from walking. “Sorry.” He mouthed, Y/N shrugged.

“What can I get you, love?” Ben, the bartender asked Y/N, she already knew the man, she vented to him every once in a while.

“Two shots of whatever.” Y/N replied, Ben just stared at her with worry.

“Two shots of whatever it is then.” He said, pulling out two shot glasses, filling them with vodka and as soon as he was done with his job Y/N downed them in a single breath before slapping a bill on the bar.

“Thanks, now can you give me my usual, please?” She asked.

“Bad day?” Ben asked her, preparing her drink.

“Not really, the early morning was great, but now not so great, truth be told. I always get down with the same shit, you know?” Ben just hummed in response, putting her drink in front of her, and before she could pay he shook his head, declining the money.

“It’s on the house, you need it, love.” He winked and she smiled, returning to the booth where her friends were sitting.

“Hey, there you are! We thought you might have left, we wouldn’t have blamed you, love.” Kat stated, Y/N shrugged her off.

“I’ll be fine, thanks for worrying, girls.” Y/N told them, grabbing both girls’ hands. The three girls kept chatting, sharing laughs and staring at both girls and boys, making Donna noticeably flustered.

All that Roger could do was stare from a distance with a scowl and a pout, his arms crossed over his chest not really paying mind to what Brian was telling him, his focus on Y/N who even from where he was standing could see that behind those laughs and giggles she was off. What a prick.

“Roger! What’s wrong with you tonight? First the incident with the girl back there and now you’re not even listening to me.” Brian threw his arms upwards in exasperation as he let out a huff.

“Wait for me here.” Roger stated.

“Wh-What?”

Roger was decided to talk to Y/N, apologise for being a shithead, and almost as if she felt his gaze, their eyes met. Y/N furrowed her brows, one eyebrow being considerably higher than the other in inquiry, her smile died and her laughter did as well, and even in the pub’s shitty light he could tell that her eyes had a mix of confusion and anger that no matter how hard she tried to push down, she wasn’t able to keep it there.

“I’ll be right back” Y/N mumbled, never taking her eyes off of him, Kat and Donna shared glances before nodding in acknowledgement.

Just like before, Y/N made her way through the mass of bodies in an attempt to get to something, this time being Roger and not alcohol. Meanwhile, Roger was doing the same, but unlike Y/N he wasn’t angry nor in a bad mood to not say excuse me and sorry every once in a while, making him slower in the task of meeting Y/N in the middle. Suddenly he realised that Y/N had already reached his place and before he could even open his mouth to even say anything Y/N beat him to it:

“What?” She’s annoyed, he thought, fuck.

“I –he paused in contemplation– I was wondering what were you doing here, ‘s all” That’s the way to go, Rog, he mentally reprimanded himself.

“You- I- Fuck- You don’t remember, do you?” Y/N sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose, “I should’ve known better than to come, I’ll leave, see you later tonight, unless you leave with the brunette then don’t bother on coming to my place.” Y/N rambled, less annoyed, now she felt hurt and stupid, indeed she should have known better.

Y/N didn’t even let Roger answer her question –not like she needed an answer–, she just walked away, holding herself, her back no longer straightened as it was when she got there to confront him, her body posture screamt insecurity.

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

She closed her flat’s door with a sad sigh, she ran one hand through her hair out of habit as the other turned the lights on. She felt so stupid for believing even for just one moment that Roger actually could remember what he had told her that same day many hours ago but more than that, she felt stupid for actually going and getting excited over it. They might see each other every other night, but they’ve never seen each other so publicly, around their friends; their meeting place was her place, especially because Y/N was too afraid to have the guts to go to his flat just to find another girl on her side of the bed.

Every time that she felt that she got considerably closer to him he seemed to push her away or to not recall or mean what he said less than 24 hours before. The worst part of it all is that she didn’t mind the grey area she was in, she was so in love with the thought of him –no, with him– that she was happy with the few things that he gave her, with the reassuring words, with the slurred words before he fell asleep; that was enough for her, but she desired more, she wanted to wake up with him still by her side, to have him around when the light was provided by the sun and not the stars and moon. But she took what little she could get, the chances he unconsciously gave her, like tonight. Except tonight was a mess and she wished that it never happened.

She left the pub just before their first set ended, wanting to listen and enjoy the music, to feel it pumping through her veins, to catch on Freddie’s excitement; so she did, she stayed but not long enough so that Roger could catch her before she left, before he could convince her to stay up for him. But apparently that wasn’t enough, because a knock on her front door made her jump and the man standing on the other side was the last person she wanted to see but also the person she needed beside her the most.

“Roger, wha-” Y/N tried to say, but her sentence was cut short by Roger grabbing her face and brushing his lips against hers, trying to test the waters before truly diving into a kiss.

Y/N was flabbergasted, for a moment she wasn’t sure of what she had to do, but in the end she caved in, her eyes fluttered close and her hands flew to the neck of his open shirt, pulling him closer to her, his hands moving from her face to the small of her back one travelling down further to grab her ass. That slow movement made Y/N gasp, Roger smirked triumphantly at her reaction, taking the opportunity given he decided to nudge her tongue with his, said action was received gratefully by Y/N, who started to move them inside the flat instead of the doorway. Roger kicked the door close and now that he was sure he was welcomed into her place he broke off the kiss.

Y/N’s face radiated heat, and if he could press his head to her chest he could be able to listen to the accelerated beat of her heart, her lips were slightly ajar and her eyes were still closed, almost savouring the moment for a few more seconds.

“Y/N, I-” Roger started, but he was cut off by Y/N’s lips.

“Please don’t say a thing.” She mumbled against his lips as her hands were messily working on his shirt’s buttons.

“Y/N! –Roger abruptly pulled apart– I’m trying to apologise”.

“Oh, go ahead then” Y/N replied, her hand instantly going to her clothes, trying to make them presentable, almost as if she hadn’t wanted him to take them off less than a minute ago.

“I shouldn’t have been such an arsehole back there, and I probably –Y/N raised an eyebrow– no, wait, I shouldn’t have asked you why you were doing at the pub, that was a stupid thing to ask, I’m sorry, love” Roger said, cupping her cheek, Y/N leaned unconsciously on the hand resting on her face, taking in its roughness and warmth.

“ ‘s okay.” She answered, Roger just pecked her lips.

But that peck turned into a deeper kiss, Roger –as usual– was leading the kiss, but it didn’t stop Y/N from teasingly pulling on his lower lip, yearning for a reaction of any kind. Roger’s tongue didn’t take long to come out and play, brushing Y/N’s lip, waiting for her to open her mouth; Y/N decided to make him wait a little longer, but Roger didn’t want that, so like last time, his hand dropped down to her ass, grabbing it and slightly massaging it. That action surely did make Y/N gasp, Roger took it as his opportunity to finally fully deepen the kiss.

In an almost déja-vu moment, Y/N’s hands started to busy themselves by untucking and unbuttoning Roger’s shirt, and as soon as the task at hand was done she pushed it off his shoulders, her hands staying on his chest, enjoying the warmth and the constant beat of his heart; but after one of Roger’s hand started to travel inside her shorts she moved her hands up to the back of his neck, pulling at the hair in the back, urging him to do something other than just kiss and tease.

But instead Roger decided to take his hand away, breaking off the kiss for a couple of seconds just to take off her red top, revealing the Rose tattoo that rested on the top of her right breast as well as the fact that she wasn’t wearing a bra underneath the garment he had just taken off. His lips started to trail down her neck, a small whine leaving Y/N’s pouted lips as he went lower and lower, sucking a mark right on top of the flower. His hands were travelling up her waist to her chest, cupping them in his rough hands and then one wrapped around the side of her neck, making her gasp.

“Please Roger.” She begged, pulling on his hair.

“Jump.” He said, both hands going down to her ass and to her tight, to make the job of wrapping her legs around him easier.

“Bedroom, Rog, please.” She whined, earning a chuckle from him.

Roger’s lips trailed upwards to meet with hers once again, Y/N moaned into the kiss and Roger just hummed in response, his hips involuntarily thrusting upwards to meet with hers, making them both gasp a little as if they’ve never done this before, like they were teens, like they didn’t play the same games every night, the same scenario and the same scenes.

They enjoyed it anyway, the feel of their bodies pressed against one another, their heavy breathing, the moaning, everything. They lived for it, they savoured each other like they’ve never eaten before.

When they arrived to her room, he realised that he ached for her, never wanting to part. So, without letting go of her he sat down on the edge of the bed, leaving her sitting on top of him, their chests tightly pressed against one another, leaving barely any room between each other –not like they wanted to be apart. So without their kiss breaking, Y/N straightened up, her hands travelling to the button of her shorts, popping it open so she could easily take them off; Roger’s hands quickly travelled to its waistband, ready to help her out of them, but he stopped when he felt her cold fingers fiddling with his belt.

They both took their sweet time at pleasing the other, loving any reaction that came out of their mouths –call it moans, whines, grunts, or the broken versions of their names–, they enjoyed this carnal version of frustration relief, where both of them could stay satisfied with the results. They tried their best to please the other, putting in an effort to relish on the ethereal sounds that could come out of their mouths, whether they were down at their knees –like Y/N was earlier– or with their head between the other’s legs –like Roger tonight.

It always felt as if it all happened incredibly fast, the taste of the other was still lingering on their mouth, leaving a bittersweet feeling that could only be washed away when they see each other the following night.

Now, Y/N was lying comfortably on Roger’s sweaty chest as he drew small random figures on her back, causing goosebumps to erupt all throughout her skin, she felt whole and content with the position she was currently in, not really wanting to think about what will happen before she wakes up later that day. Her head was going a thousand miles an hour, a feeling of regret and pain suddenly settling in her agitated mind so without really putting a lot of thought into it, she blurted out:

“Have you ever thought of the future, Rog?”

He straightened up and cleared his throat, “Yeah, I’ve seen myself with the guys, touring the world, meeting new people, new friends, making more music… “ Even though that wasn’t the direction her question was heading to, she enjoyed the sound of his voice too much to actually interrupt him to clarify.

A silence fell upon them and Y/N took her head off of his chest, deciding to sit up a bit to meet his eyes, the same eyes she was to mad to stare at less than three hours before, the same eyes she searched for when he was sitting behind the drum kit –despite her anger. “That’s not what I meant.” She looked down in shame, she had already started the conversation, and no matter how hard she bit her tongue she had to finish the talk one way or the other, knowing that he would find a way to coax it out of her.

He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “So what did you mean?”

“I meant, our future.” She mumbled in response and as soon as the words left her lips she regretted ever opening her mouth.

Roger was unable to answer, his mouth hung open, unfit to form a sentence. He ran a hand through his hair, the feeling of her fingers running through the locks still very much present, just like the taste of her lips, of her, in general.

“You know, that was a stupid question, it’s late, I should just go to sleep.” Y/N quickly rambled, a knot on her throat forming quickly.

“Yeah, good night.” Was all he managed to answer.

Y/N wrapped her arms around herself, her back turned to him, mirroring his position, their bodies lacking the contact of the other. Y/N was angry at herself for her commentary, but she knew deep down that it had to be asked at some point, and though it felt as if she had chosen the worst moment to ask such thing, it was better to do it now than later when they reach the two year mark –a mark that wasn’t too far away.

Brilliantly done for a smile, shake hands, and leave.

// Part 2 //

76 notes · View notes

imyourliquor-youremypoison · 5 years

Text

Big Spook (Peter Parker x Reader - Part 5)

Synopsis: Aged Up!Peter thinks he’s done well with leading a double life. He’s studying what he likes, he has his own place, he’s dating the girl he loves… but that doesn’t mean life is easy all the time. Even superheroes have bad days - and sometimes worse days.

Tags: Aged Up!Character, College AU, Established relationship, Whump, Angst. Does not take FFH into account. SPOILER FREE.

Word count: 2.2k

Part 4 <<< >>> Part 6

MASTERLIST

Every day, Dr Cho or a nurse came by to check on Peter's vitals, change or remove some bandages, then scribbled down some notes that nobody could understand without a medical degree, and left again, not sparing May, (Y/N) or Happy a single glance. Did they teach that in medical school? Avoid the suffering relatives' eager stares so they don't ask questions you don't have answers to?

(Y/N) was bitter. May thought it was progress since last week she hadn't shown any sign of feeling a single emotion other than abysmal despair. She had come back twelve hours after she left, wearing clean clothes, her hair washed, the pink back to her cheeks. It was progress.

But she refused to leave again. Happy ended up bringing her a change of clothes every other day, and May sometimes forced her to go upstairs and take a shower in the Avengers' compound or a nap. (Y/N) was a patient person – she was – but concern ate away at her like a disease.

Ned had dropped by again, with a 'get well soon' card signed by most of Peter's friends – at least all those Ned also knew – and a frankly creepy-looking teddy bear holding Captain America's shield.

“They didn't have a Spider-Man bear,” he had explained when (Y/N) took it in her hands, rubbing the fluff of its head.

“I'll make sure to tell him,” (Y/N) sniffled, setting the plush down on the bedside table along with the card.

Neither of them were in the mood for banter, but they managed a smile. Ned talked the day away, rambling about this and that – (Y/N) didn't pay much attention to what he said, but she appreciate his uplifting presence and liked that he didn't wait for an answer. He just wanted to see his best friend for a bit, and try to cheer up (Y/N) while he was at it.

Despite his being in a coma, Peter still healed fast and soon, most of the cuts and bruises were gone. They even took off the huge bandage around his head, revealing a prominent but already healing wound well on its way to disappearing completely. They took out the stitches the day before, and suddenly, he looked awfully normal.

(Y/N) couldn't understand how Peter could look so normal, so like himself, yet be anything but.

Dr Cho had made herself scarce but (Y/N) managed to find her and ask her if things had progressed at all.

They hadn't. She told her with a compassionate smile that his body had healed at an astounding speed but patients in a coma did not simply wake up when their body had recovered. Armed with nothing but patience and endless love and despair, (Y/N) returned to Peter's room and sat nothing of her exchange with the doctor to anyone.

Ned, May and Happy were the ones trying to lift up her moods, who was she to shoot them down?

(Y/N) still held onto Peter's hand like it was her lifeline. She thought his fingers were a bit cold and stiff, but it was nothing to worry about, the nurse who came in today said. It happened to anyone who didn't move for a while.

Even if she had wanted to, (Y/N) couldn't have let go. If she tried hard enough, she could imagine Peter slowly squeezing her hand, and when she looked up, he would be staring a her with an apologetic, boyish grin, sorry for causing her such trouble.

A shaky breath came out of her mouth. No one noticed, because she was alone with Peter. May had stopped spending her days here. She had to go back to work at some point. (Y/N) also suspected May was avoiding her a little after she revealed that Peter had, in fact, not proposed, and she only said he was her fiancé to get her boss off her back.

And while (Y/N) had shouted at her internship supervisor that she wouldn't leave Peter's side until he woke up, she soon realized that it wasn't a realistic course of action.

Dr Cho had told her there was no way to know how long a coma would last and (Y/N) wasn't naive enough to think she could put her entire life on hold for anyone. Reality would soon catch up.

To her surprise though, Pepper had called her to check on Peter, hear if there was any change in his condition. She and Morgan still lived outside of NY, in their cabin where they had last been with Tony. She bought (Y/N) some time, took care of all things financial for the month to come, rent, bills, whatever there was, so she could stay with Peter.

“It's what Tony would have done,” Pepper had told her. “If you need anything at all, please call.” She sounded so awfully calm, as if she had had to deal with such dreadful affairs before. (Y/N) wished she hadn't. “Peter is family.”

Yes, Peter was family. Once upon a time, when (Y/N) and Peter were still mere friends who had met in freshers, they had approached the touchy subjects of the five years where half of humanity had been snapped away.

He had told her with this far-away look in his eyes that he was one of those who disappeared, that he had felt himself vanish while his dad held him, watching, powerless, as Peter turned to dust in his arms.

It was only months later, after (Y/N) found out the truth, that she put two and two together. Peter had lost his father when he was very young, then he had to bury his uncle while he was in high school. Tony Stark was the only father figure present in his life after that, the one who guided him on his new path and made him who he was now.

When she had asked him again about that, Peter had turned beetroot red and stuttered out something incoherent, then dashed out of the room because “his phone was ringing”.

“There's nothing to be embarrassed about!” (Y/N) had called after him, giggling while he pretended to have an animated conversation with Ned on the phone.

“Sorry darling, but Ned really needs my help with something.”

Then, he had locked himself in the bathroom for an hour, pretending to be on the phone. (Y/N) tipped her hat at his dedication to making her believe this sudden and oh-so convenient phone call was real.

(Y/N) stood behind the bathroom door and knocked gently.

“Peter?” she called him, getting no answer. “I know you miss him a lot. If you ever want to talk about him, even if I still don't understand everything that went on with you and the Avengers, I'll listen.”

Another minute of silence passed before the door unlocked, and creaked open. (Y/N) slipped a hand through the opening and peeked inside, finding Peter sitting on the closed toilet, head between his hands. She heard him sniffle and immediately joined him, sitting on the floor between his legs.

“Hey,” (Y/N) cooed softly, attempting to comfort Peter. She grabbed one of his hands to see his face, and brought it to her lips, placing a kiss on his knuckles. “You don't need to hide from me.”

“I know, I know...” He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to slow down the flow of tears. “It's just- It's been years now, how much longer will you put up with me if I keep crying about the same thing?”

It was obviously meant to be a joke but (Y/N) heard the familiar ring of truth behind the playful façade Peter put up for her sake. (Y/N) bit down on her lower lip, hating to see him like this but not knowing what to do to make him feel better. She was usually good at making Peter feel better, but it was always harder when he was upset because of something Avengers-related.

It simply wasn't her world, she didn't belong in it, she didn't even have a foot in the door, it was simply foreign territory to her. In times like these, she wished she had an armored suit, or a vibranium arm, or even just insane hand-to-hand combat skills so she could be part of Peter's world too.

“I've never met Tony Stark, you know that,” she started, standing up and forcing Peter to look up to meet her eyes. “But after spending years by your side, hearing you talk about him... I feel like I know him a little. And believe it or not, I feel his loss too. I'll never blame you for grieving his loss.”

With her gentle touch, (Y/N) pushed back the strands that fell in Peter's eyes and wiped away a tear with her thumb, a small smile was now etched on his lips. Peter used the hand (Y/N) still held to pulled her towards him. She gasped and nearly fell, but Peter was there to catch her, and sat her on his lap.

He let his head rest against her breast while she held him in her arms.

“He would have liked you,” Peter croaked out. “Everyone would have liked you.”

(Y/N) had asked Friday to wake her up if anything happened at all. May and Happy might have convinced her that it was no use staying with Peter day in and day out as long as his condition didn't change, but she wasn't just going to return to her normal life as if nothing had happened.

It was out of the question to go back to their place without Peter. She accepted to stay in one of the rooms upstairs on the one condition that she would be the first to know it anything at all happened. Seventeen days had gone by since Peter's injury, and (Y/N) wasn't coping well. She hated to be that dependent on someone else, she hated to be that girl who retreated into herself because her boyfriend wasn't around anymore, she absolutely loathed standing in this weird in-between where Peter was there yet wasn't.

The truth was that she never fully understood all these girls who claimed they couldn't live without their significant other. Neither did she see it coming when it happened to her; she just felt it. She had felt it when her entire being shattered upon finding Peter's unconscious form bleeding out on the floor, and she felt it now, lying wide awake in a bed that wasn't hers, that was too big for only one person to sleep in, that felt too foreign.

How long had it been since the last time she had willingly slept alone? Slowly, she realized her life and Peter's were intertwined more than she thought they were. If he didn't make it...

Her mind jumped back to the little velvet box, and a painful hiccup raked her body. The time of silent tears was gone for good now. (Y/N) was only shaken by violent sobs and struggled to breathe now when she thought about what lied ahead of them.

The entire floor was vacant except for her, but she still slammed a hand over her mouth to muffle the sound of her ugly cries, eyes tightly shut as if it would stop the tears from coming. She was sick and tired of crying. She was this close to enrolling in medical school and try and get Peter to wake up herself.

Sleep eluded her until not even the bottomless pit of sorrow could keep her awake anymore. She was so tired these days, and not just physically.

(Y/N) was woken up by a blaring alarm instead of the gentle morning sun kissing her face. F.R.I.D.A.Y might not be human, but she participated in her own way, tried to make life easier for (Y/N).

“Miss (Y/N),” she robotic voice called her though she was wide awake now. The alarm stopped. “As per your request I inform you that I detected a change in Mr.Parker's condition. It seems his heart rate has gone up quite suddenly.”

“Thank you Friday. Call the elevator, will you?” she managed to give the order with a surprisingly collected voice for someone whose heartbeat broke speed records and fumbled around to try and find her shoes.

“Already done, Miss.”

F.R.I.D.A.Y turned on the light so she would see what she was doing but it only served in blinding (Y/N). Damn her shoes, she wasn't going to leave the building anyway.

She ran out of the bedroom and into the doors of the elevator, waiting open for her. The ride was endless, even though (Y/N) knew this was the fastest elevator in all of NY. She headed to Peter's room, dashing through the corridors, running barefoot on the linoleum, a haggard look on her face.

When she finally burst through the door, her heart stopped altogether.

Peter was sitting on the bed, clutching at the railing and looking relieved to see her, although she must have looked a fright.

“(Y/N),” he rasped out, frowning when he heard the sound of his own voice, husky from lack of use. “Where are we?”

IMPORTANT: It disheartens me that it has come to this, but I will only post part 6 if I get reviews. Is that what writers have to do now? Beg? I will then. Remember, fanfiction is not free. Support writers.

TAGLIST: @palindrome-teddy @complete-trash-101 @keeperofhopesanddreams @i-love-whumperflies @golden-guide @marauderette130 @lowkeykatie888

REBLOG TO SAVE A WRITER

37 notes · View notes

ardentmuse · 5 years

Text

Perchance a Parchment (George Weasley x Reader) - Part 2

Harry Potter - George Weasley x fem!Reader

Wordcount: 2.7k

Summary: Writing letters to the mysterious and flirty Rhubarb may be fun, but real life, and the difficulties of your shop, are bound to get in the way.

Series Masterlist // Masterlist

A/N: Thanks for your patience! I hope you enjoy.

You were part way through your mug of morning coffee and fully through the work of restocking the shelves before opening. You were just beginning to tackle cataloguing the latest deliveries -- new collections of the adventures of Tiago de Paula, world renowned treasure hunter and ladykiller, by the incomparable Quetzalli Flores, your favorite teacher from your short stint at Castelobruxo -- when the bell above your door rang. You jumped at the unexpected sound, spilling your coffee on the floor behind the counter. Though the ring being a surprise was silly. It was 8:58am, just in time for your shop to open.

“‘Mornin’, boss,” Patricia sung as she swept in. She had her hat and coat on the rack before she even notices your spill. “Need some help with that?”

You smiled as you moved to the other side of the desk to retrieve your wand and with a quick wave the spill was already forgotten.

“So,” Patricia said as she took a giant plop into the large armchair that divided the children and adult parts of the store, “What’s got you so jumpy?”

Without even looking, Patty reached over and took a big swig of the cup of tea she knew you would have sitting there for her. This was your morning routine, lazily stocking shelves and cleaning until the local moms brought around their toddlers for the 10am story session, all the while drinking your morning beverages so slowly they grew cold multiple times over and all the silly personal stories of the previous day were exhausted. You too took your seat beside her, watching as her round halo of curls compressed as she relaxed her head further into the cushions.

“Just didn’t sleep well last night.”

Patty raised an eyebrow. “Finally had that good night romp with Tom you’ve been craving?”

The mention of your boyfriend made you feel guilty. Tom hadn’t spent the night in weeks. Or was it months now? And honestly, he hadn’t crossed your mind all morning. You really did need to end it…

“No,” you managed between sips, “Nothing like that.”

You both sat in silence for a few moments companionably. Patty had this way of simply waiting and always getting the information she wanted. She had the air of a co-conspirator, trusting and easy and a tad bit devious. Just a simple raise of her eyebrows as she sipped her tea always had you talking.

“Here,” you finally said, handing her two crumpled pieces of parchment from your pocket.

Patty unraveled the first, reading the words and pausing part way.

“Peaches?” she asked, “Your best friend back in America? Why didn’t you send it?”

Without meeting her eyes, you said, “I did. Keep reading.”

You watched Patty through your lashes as she scanned the page and moved to the next. The light of recognition came across her face, then confusion, and then laughter as she folded the letters, finished, in her lap.

“Oh boy! Someone has a secret admirer!”

“It’s not like that,” you said, “He doesn’t know me. He just knows I’m female and probably a young adult given the content and thought he’d flirt a bit. I mean, he could be some old creep with some weird owl-intercepting fetish for all we know.”

“Well, I think he sounds cute. And he has surprisingly nice handwriting.”

She stood and began opening the crate containing the latest Flores novels.

“And,” she said, more to the box than you, “Rhubarb has a point. Why don’t you have a passionate romance? A woman on the verge of an engagement shouldn’t feel that way.”

You knew she was avoiding your gaze now, worried how you would respond.

You downed the last bit of your coffee. “You’re right,” you said as tears pricked at your eyes, but you swallowed them down.

Hearing the hiccup, Patty returned to your side.

“Listen, friend. I know you don’t want to hear it, but you have to rip off the Band-Aid, as the Muggles say. Tom loves you. He wants you happy and if he’s not doing that, then he needs to know. In the meantime, why don’t you go upstairs and respond to Mr. Rhubard and I’ll get the story room ready.”

“You sure?”

Patty smiled wide, “Positive.”

You began the trek back towards your office when you heard Patty scream.

“What kind of codename is Rhubarb anyway?”

You chuckled as you sat down at your desk. Diomedes came to rest on your shoulder almost immediately.

“Maybe he’s old and sour,” you shouted in return.

“Or maybe he’s tall, thick, and red,” she cooed seductively.

“Red?” you teased as you pulled out your parchment, realizing you still needed to send your post to Peaches as well.That was probably why this Rhubarb returned the first letter. What a sweet gesture, you thought. Maybe he wasn’t some creep after all.

“You know,” Patricia called, “Ginger.”

You laughed once more, shaking your head. Patty knew too well of your weakness for redheads. You mind was running with images of strong, pretty, thoughtful men with soft red locks and freckles across their noses, an image that was vaguely familiar to you somehow. But it was an imagine you liked regardless.

George had been upstairs all day, wanting to intercept any owls before Fred could, not that Fred cared about the post at all. But after that letter he sent, he was feeling more embarrassed than anything. A single letter flies in his window, wording the things his heart had been saying for weeks and he immediately spills his soul out to this unknown woman. He felt foolish and silly, cringing at himself all night about the last line of his letter.

But Fred had been right. He’d been avoiding women for years now. Since the end of the war, the loss of his ear, and the failed whirlwind couple months with Angelina, he wanted to just focus on himself for a bit.

A bit quickly expanded into a couple years though and now George found himself desiring something different from his nights. He didn’t just want to be sitting on the couch joking with Lee and drinking beers with his brother. He wanted more.

As time went on, he found himself noticing those signs of love that filled his childhood home; the way Ginny always ran into Harry’s arms when he returned from a long few days away with work, the way Harry clung to the fabric of Ginny’s shirts like she was the only thing tethering him to the world, the way Hermione and Ron teased each other, how a laugh could be so much more than just a sign of humor but an expression of utter peace and contentment, the way Fleur lit up every time she caught Bill’s eyes across the room, and the way Bill lit up every time he heard one of his children say, ‘mama,” and even the way he’d occasionally overhear his parents call each other by ridiculous pet names and exchange soft touches that lifted even the heaviest tension.

George hadn’t been home in a few weeks. Going home made it insanely obvious that he was indeed alone.

A knock at the window pulled him from his thoughts and he felt his heart rate increase as the tawny owl from the day before tilted his head to seek entrance. For a moment, George considered not letting the bird in. The inevitable rejection was going to ruin his day. He was sure the letter would contain a right rebuke from the sender, a collection of strung together statements about how truly creepy it was to respond to someone else’s mail and a quick request to cease all contact.

But ever curious, George opened the window anyway and found attached a letter tied with pretty red string and a loopy, friendly “Rhubarb” upon the scroll.

Breathing a sigh of relief, he opened and read the letter.

Rhubarb,

Thank you for taking the time to send me back my original letter. Peaches would have been very disappointed to not receive my incoherent early morning ramblings. You are a true knight and for that I am grateful.

In regards to your question, you could say my life is not lacking for love, just not the passionate kind I had hoped for in my youth. But there is always the future. I’m still young and free to explore what the world has to offer.

I am lucky in some ways. I have an amazing community around me and a family I adore. I moved around a lot as a child, so I have friends on every continent. In that regard, I am never really alone.

In some ways, I got the adventure I always imagined. I just didn’t know it at the time. Maybe that is the secret to all of this. Life is always filled with the things desire, but only in reflection. Each dream is just an effort to reclaim a feeling we didn’t know was special until it was over.

So Rhubarb, what are you seeking? What’s your dream? What special feeling are you trying to reclaim?

Looking forward to hearing from you again.

Sincerely,

Cherry

ps. Your handwriting is lovely.

George was beaming by the time he read those last words. The letter wasn’t anything revolutionary. It didn’t rock his psyche the way the first letter did, but it still spoke to a level of honest and forthright communication his life had been missing. With Fred, everything was a joke, a light-hearted spat, or a source of wonder. Things like anxiety, fear, doubt, and insecurity didn’t exist in the mind of Fred Gideon Weasley. Anytime George mentioned something as simple as a worry resulted in a jab and a chuckle and, most important a change of conversation.

But now, for the first time in quite a long time, someone was asking George what he wanted, what he hoped for, what he feared. Someone, a stranger, cares what he thinks.

“George!” a voice called from the bottom of the stairs, “Get your rump down here to talk to these real estate people!”

George sighed and patted the owl on the head. Penning a reply would have to wait.

“And this,” the real estate agent began, all boisterous confidence, “is the building I was thinking for your new workshop. As a storefront, people walking by would be able to see all the cauldrons going. It would be a spectacular for sales, I think.”

George took in the pretty wooden exterior of the shop just a few doors down from their own. He had never bothered to observe the tiny bookstore housing titles and authors he had never seen before. But the lights inside were warm and inviting. He could see the colorful spines across the oak shelves, all arranged and sorted expertly. Tables covered in stacks of parchment and pens, a counter covered in postcards and gift bags, and plush chairs for reading in every available corner.

But the thing that caught his eyes right away was the bay window, curtained in plush velvet. And just beyond, in a small wooden chair, he saw that same beautiful face from the night before. Only today there was no scowl but instead an animated expression; eyebrows in the air, mouth wide with wonder, and cheeks full and happy. She held a book in her hand, open to a small circle of young children packed together, their parents hovering and chatting at the counter just beyond. He watched as characters lept from the pages of the story, small sparks and lights stealing the toddlers’ attention. And as the woman bent forward in a mock whisper, he heard the children burst out into laughter. George thought just maybe he had never seen a more beautiful sight.

“But it isn’t empty,” Fred said in confusion to the real estate agent.

“Oh, it will be soon,” he responded, with such a dismissive tone that George wanted to spit.

“Something caught your eye, brother,” Fred called, snapping George from his gaze. When Fred followed George’s line of sight, he sighed. “Ah, just your type.”

George shook his head and started the walking back to their shop. If they had to buy someone out of their business, did it have to be an enchanting, vibrant woman who knew just how to engage children?

That night, Diomedes finally returned, along with another bird you did not recognize. Diomedes rushed past the snowy owl to find home upon your bed, a letter strung snuggly to his leg. You hated to admit just how curious you were about the letter from Rhubarb but the idea of some mild flirtation, of feeling wanted and stimulated intellectually made you happier than you cared to register.

You started with Diomedes, who upon being relieved of his parchment flew swiftly into his cage.

Dear Cherry,

May I call you dear? It seems silly to treat you like a stranger given the kind of things I wish to share with you.

I too can say I am lucky to have what I have. My family is lovely, though I have often been the least remarkable among them. I have never had a moment where I haven’t felt loved and cared for. But what you say is true. The war took a lot from us. I look back on the time before the war with much joy and admiration, though it probably was not as idyllic as I remember.

I can honestly tell you I am not sure what I want. I have one very strong memory that I go back to when I need positivity: my brother and I flying in our family orchard first thing, teaching our little sister how to fly before our mum noticed she was missing. I guess if I had to put it into words then--

You were interrupted in your reading by the snowy owl pecking harshly at your hand.

“Alright, you fearsome devil,” you said to the bird as you pecked the small parchment off its leg, abandoning your letter from the enticing Mr. Rhubarb to your bed.

This parchment only had a handful of words.

Sorry, Y/N. Can’t extend your lease at the current rate. We need a new deposit of 1000 galleons by the 30th or you’ll need to vacate.

I’m sorry, dear. I really do love your store.

The signature was scratchy but it was indeed your landlord. You felt your stomach tighten and the tears prick at your eyes. You thought you had more time.

Your only thought was to grab the pillow from against your headboard, press it tightly to your face, and scream, a raw primal scream that let the tension ease from all of your muscles. You screamed a second time for good measure, but a voice pulled your face from the pillow before you could let out a third.

“Babe, is everything okay in there?” Tom asked from his place in your kitchen cooking your dinner. You had forgotten just how much could be heard through your paper thin walls.

Immediately, you snatched up the letters and stuffed them under your mattress, taking extra caution to make sure the one from a particularly flirty potential suitor was properly tucked away. You just had time to wipe the tears from your eyes as the door cracked open and an adorable head of messy brown locks, one that used to make your heart flutter and now did very little, poked in.

“All good?” he asked.

“Stubbed my toe,” you managed.

Tom’s eyes raked your body and with a nod in conformation, he left, shutting the door behind him.

Before it even closed, you flung yourself down on the mattress. You knew eventually you’d need to go out there and eat the dinner he prepared and feign interest in the latest economics news, but for now you would lay here in a starfish upon your mattress and fully and sincerely cry.

All tags: @fangirlandnerd, @aerdnandreaa, @thisisbullshytt, @cancerousjojian, @whovianayesha, @themarauderstheoutsidersandpeggy, @luna-xxxxx, @sleepylunarwolf, @starryrevelations, @potter-thinking, @all-by-myself98, @bananafosters-and-books, @cutie-bug

Harry Potter tags: @tessimagines, @0-lost-in-stereo-0, @whysoseriouspadfoot

Perchance a Parchment tags: @cucumberinmyass, @justducky0423, @thequeen-ofnerds, @yuaasa, @comic-creature, @hermionebennet, @semicharmedkindofali, @sugerquill, @can-i-fangirl-yet, @doct0rstrange, @igotmadskills, @otherthingsinhead, @olixerwxxd, @caramiriel, @gryffinclxw, @lizmar20, @indicisive-af, @confettidreameryouwhoreo-blog, @hellizhelusive2, @kaitsubaki, @dooriha, @justfollowtheroad, @memogorgon, @xxsophie-raabxx

#harry potter #harry potter imagine #george weasley #george weasley imagine #george weasley x reader #george weasley x you #hp #hp imagine #reader insert #weasley twins #perchance a parchment

158 notes · View notes

sinning5sos · 6 years

Text

unknown. chapter two.

"You'll know we are equally damaged. Don't be a fool, make it easier"

All he could think about was her. The way she spoke to him, the way she smiled so easily, the way that her hand wrapped around his cock so well. He swallowed hard as he tried to suppress that last thought.

He shifted in his seat on the bus, his forehead banging against the window as it pulled up to a stop when he notices the coffee shop that he usually visits. There was a beautiful girl sitting in the window, it looked just like her.

And it was her. She was sitting inside the coffee shop, acting as normal as possible because the time away from the club was the only time that she actually felt like a real person, not just some object.

She was sitting in the window, a book in one hand with the other resting on the coffee cup. He hurried off the bus, nearly falling as the driver had let his foot off the brake and gave him a dirty look.

He mumbled an apology as he slung his bag over his shoulder, his eyes locked on her as he walked towards the door. He went inside and ordered, smiling at the familiar barista but keeping a side view on her the entire time.

He sat at a table not far away from her, hoping that she would just look up from her book and say hello.

But she never did, so instead he sat down at that table near her as he pulled out his journal and began to doodle. He didn't have any idea what to sketch, but one last look at her and he knew what he was drawing.

He sat there, rotating the cup on the table as he watched her. He had finished the drawing almost thirty minutes ago, throwing in some final touches here and there of her. He didn't want to be creepy, though he felt like it, but he just wanted to talk to her. He was too much of a damn coward to do that though.

She closed the book in her hands and placed it into the bag sitting in the chair beside her as she stood. She leaned back slightly, yawning as she stretched before she slung the bag over her shoulder and started walking towards the door.

He got up as well and left the coffee shop. He looked to the right but when he couldn't see her, he got started in the opposite direction. He turned down a street and saw her walking ahead of him, and lengthened his strides as he followed her.

She turned down an alleyway, and Ashton quickened his pace as he turned the corner, only for her to be standing there and placed her arms around him and pushed him against the wall roughly.

"Who are you?" She growled, the pocket knife's blade being revealed and he swallowed quickly as he held up his hands in surrender.

"I'm sorry, I'm - wait can you just - My name is Ashton, please tell me you remember me from the other night." He gulped, and she pulled the blade back slightly but held it up close to his face.

"Please move the knife." His voice wavered and she glared at him as she lowered it. "I'm sorry, I don't or I didn't want to talk to you again this way but I saw you at the coffee shop and I wanted to say hi but I'm a fucking coward and I just don't -"

"Stop talking."

"I'm sorry." He murmured, and she flicked the knife so the blade disappeared into it's holder and she tucked it into her pocket.

"No, I'm sorry. I should have recognized you. It's just that there are so many times where a man recognizes me and stalks me and, there are just some sick men in the world, I'll leave it at that." She muttered, crossing her arms over her chest as she looked at him.

"Your eyes are pretty," He whispered, and she blushed as she looked down. She felt uncomfortable when people complimented her, only because the last people who seemed to have truly meant it said the words with such hatred.

"Thank you." She said, and he smiled as he rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet as he was unsure of what to say. He didn't know how to go about it, he's already gotten a goddamn hand job from her but he wanted more.

He wanted to know what her thoughts were like at two in the morning when she can't sleep, what her favorite coffee shop to go in and hang out was, what her favorite thing to do in the city was, but all he could muster out was, "The weathers good today, yeah?"

He wanted to hit himself.

But she smiled at him anyways. She nodded eagerly, glancing up at the sun before looking all around. She glanced at her watch, noting that she only had two more hours out in the real world before returning to the fake world that she had.

"Would you like to go and grab a drink or something? Or maybe even dinner?" He asked, and she hesitated as she thought about the answer. Was he doing this just because she was a dancer? Probably. That was what the last boy who caught her attention wanted, and the boy before that, and the boy before that.

It was a constant cycle of getting her hopes up because she finally found someone she connected with, only to have them crashing down when she realized they only wanted her for bragging rights.

And yet, she accepted.

"I know of a good place around the corner here." She said, and he grinned as he nodded. He gestured for her to lead the way as she started moving forward. He couldn't believe that she had agreed, and she didn't believe it either.

"So, what's your real name?" He muttered, looking over her. She looked so much different without the silver hair that she had worn the last time he saw her. She was looking at him too, he was much prettier in the daylight.

"Luna." She answered, giving her stage name and he frowned. That wasn't her real name, and he knew that. But he didn't want to press her, so he let it be.

"Well, my names Ashton." He murmured, and she nodded. So there was now a name to the face that had been in her thoughts so much lately. All she's been able to think about lately has been him.

The way that he talked to her, the nervousness evident in his body, the way that his face twisted in pleasure as she held his cock in her hands. She loved thinking about that, it was what kept her going in the club long after he had left.

She thought of him when she was dancing on the stage once more that night, she thought of him when she was dancing with that other man, the one who kept touching her and she could still smell the alcohol from him.

She thought of him when she went home that night, wondering if she would ever see him again.

And now, here they were. Ashton was sitting in front of her in a booth at the restaurant that she loves so much. He was nervously fiddling with the silverware, currently leaning forward on his elbows as he looked at her.

"So," He trailed off as the waitress came up and she smiled up at the familiar face.

"Good to see you again darling, with a new man too? What's this ones name?" She asked, resting her hand on her hip as she looked at the two in the booth and her cheeks burned as she looked down at her lap.

"My name is Ashton," He said, offering out his hand and the waitress that had been taking care of Luna for so long shook her hand as well, a smile on her face as she introduced herself to him. Luna bit down on her lip as Carrie looked at her and winked. She approved.

It's not like it mattered, there wasn't a future with him for Luna. There was never a real future with any good men that she dated, because she couldn't change where she worked, she couldn't change what she does, she couldn't change who she was.

So she sipped at the coffee in her hands, listening to Ashton ramble on about something as she feigned interest. All she could think about was the time slipping away from her, the time that was ticking away before she would have to return to the darker side of her world.

"What are your plans for the night?" He asked, and she snorted as she shook her head and his lips pressed into a thin line as he figured it out, "Sorry, that was incredibly stupid of me."

"Can we not talk about that? Like at all." She muttered, and he nodded as he messed around with his water and continued to stir it with his straw.

"Yeah, of course. I'm sorry Luna," He said, and that was it. He didn't know what to say, what would you say to a woman like her? A beautiful woman who probably would never have talked to him outside of their situation.

"What's your favorite time of day?" She asked, and he hummed as he thought as he looked at her. She had a small smile on her face as she looked at him, she adored being able to sit here with him.

"I'd say dusk, ya know? Right at that time in the night where the stars first start to come out. Where you can look up and count them as they appear, one by one. That's my favorite time of day." He said, looking down at his fingers and she nodded.

She loved his voice, it had a feeling of comfort with it. She thought of his moans from the last time, how pretty his voice was then compared to how pretty it is now.

"Talk to me some more." She said softly, and he chuckled as he nodded. And he did. He talked to her about everything that came to his mind, and she listened intently and admired everything he said. He was so smart, and so kind with his words.

The time came where she was due back to the club, but she didn't want to be away from him yet. He paid for the bill while she went and stood outside of the restaurant, and felt the suns rays soak into her skin as he pushed through the door, a smile on his face.

"Do you want to come see the club? It's a lot less scarier during the day. I get there early to help the wait staff get everything prepped for during the night. No other girls are there yet," She muttered, rocking forward on the ball of her feet as she looked away. She hoped he would say no, but she also wanted him to say yes.

"Yea, I'd be down for that." He said, scratching the back of his neck and waited for her to react in some way. She smiled as she started to walk towards the direction of the club, and he glanced around

"Do you live around here?" She asked, and he shook his head as she pulled her bus pass out and put her wallet back down into her bag. She sucked in a breath as she waited for him to answer that.

"Sorta," He nodded as the two walked towards the bus stop, and they waited until the bus finally rolled up. He let her step onto the bus in front of him, and they both sat down, "Do you live around here?"

"Sorta," She answered, and he smiled as he elbowed her gently. She didn't know why she was acting the way that she was, she didn't know why she thought he was so attractive. She got lost in her thoughts as the bus rumbled through the city, before they finally got off at the stop.

They walked into the club, and she smiled at the bartenders as she waved to them. Ashton held up a hand and slightly waved, feeling odd at seeing them so friendly when only just a few nights before, they were stone-faced.

"Here," She whispered, pulling him along through the club and into the back. She was the only one of the girls that got there early, and she sat down in her chair while he looked around. Different costumes hung along the walls, each vanity different and unique to the person who sat there, night after night.

"You know," She said, looking at him in the mirror. She didn't know what to say, but she knew what she wanted to say, "I'm going to be so honest with you right now. More honest than I've ever been with someone, but I haven't been able to stop thinking about you."

She left off as she gauged his reaction, and he walked closer to her and stood to her side as she turned to look at him, "The way that you dug your fingers into my thighs, the way that you looked when you came. It was the most beautiful thing I've seen in a while."

Ashton's mouth fell open, his cheeks burning red at the words that he had heard. He didn't know what to say to that, what do you say to that? He swallowed hard as he looked at her, and he scratched the back of his neck.

She noticed he did that when he was nervous.

"Sorry, that was blunt. I shouldn't have said it, but it was something that I had been thinking of." She said, and she brushed it off as she turned back to the mirror. He tried to think, he didn't know what to say.

"I've been thinking about the same thing." He stated, and her eyes widened as she nodded, and turned back to face him, "Jesus Christ, it's all I've been thinking about. I haven't had that physical connection with anyone in so goddamn long."

"I could do it again for you, dress up and put on a little show for you." She whispered, standing up directly in front of him. He swallowed once again, watching her hand as it was brought up to his face and she cupped his cheek gently.

"No, well I mean I wouldn't object to that, but seeing you...normal, well it makes me feel more comfortable. You don't need to dress up for me," He said, and she nearly froze in her place at his words. No one had ever said that to her before, and she didn't know what to do. So she faked a smile, and leaned forward and attached their lips.

He was hesitant at first, but he soon got more and more into the kiss as he wrapped his arms around her waist. This is just a one-time thing, she thought to herself as she wound her fingers into his curly hair, and tugged gently at the ends.

He moaned out, and she grinned successfully as she pulled away, her eyes scanning his face as she saw the slight embarrassment. She realized he might have felt slightly uncomfortable and so she walked over to the dressing room door and locked it, and then returned so she was in front of him.

"Why were you guys here the other day?" She asked, genuinely curious as to why a group of them would be out on that night.

"It was my birthday," He mumbled, and she nodded as her hands glided up his arms, before they were pushing his jacket off of his shoulders. He hesitantly agreed, and followed her suit and let it fall to the floor.

"Then this is a birthday gift for you," She said, kissing his cheek and he stopped her as she leaned forward.

"Luna," He whispered, his voice strained as he shook his head, "I don't want you to feel like you have to do this, I promise."

"We've gone over this before. I don't have to do this, I want to do this. Think of this as a parting gift and a way to say thank you for dinner," She muttered, bringing his hands up and she kissed them gently, "Plus it helps me relax before my show."

He nodded and watched as she unbuttoned his shirt, with each button becoming undone, she pressed a kiss against his chest. He became numb to his mind, focusing only on what was physical at this moment.

"What if I tried on some outfits for you," She whispered, kissing his chest and he licked his lips as he nodded once more, and waited for her to continue, "and you pick out which one I wear tonight?"

He thought about how many others she had said this to before. He thought about how he wasn't special, how he wasn't the first person to be standing where he is right now. And yet, when it came to her eyes on him, he felt completely under her control.

"Yeah, Luna," He murmured, and she smiled as she stepped away from him, and gestured to the chair that was towards the back. She went back into the changing area, her hands dragging along each hanger that contained a different outfit for her to wear.

Her eyes landed on the three different ones that she would try on, and pulled them out. She undressed quickly, before gathering the costume and the different pieces that went along with it, before tying the top and she took a deep breath.

"We have the basic holiday costumes, like my Halloween one and my Christmas one, but these are just my regular, daily show costumes. The first," She trailed off as she walked out, and he bit down on his lip.

"Oh fuck," He mumbled, his eyes falling upon the cowgirl costume that she was wearing. She had short denim shorts, a plaid crop top tied in the center of her chest with white lace peeking out. She winked as she walked over to him, sauntering and he tried to contain himself as she approached him.

"Jesus Christ," He muttered, watching as she walked around him, before straddling his lap and he gulped as he looked up at her.

"What do you think of this one?" She asked innocently, smiling down at him and he shook his head as he looked at the outfit once more.

"It's beautiful, but not the one." He answered honestly, and she smiled as she ground down her hips against him and he groaned slightly, "What else do you have?"

"Oh, I am so glad that you asked." She whispered, kissing his cheek and pushed herself off of his lap. She slowly bent over, her ass in the air before she was gone altogether and was back in the changing area again.

"Are you ready for this?" She asked, and even though she couldn't see him, he shook his head. She snapped the tights onto her legs, and it left him craving to see her. She hummed to herself as she pulled the last of the costume on, and walked out to see him once again.

His eyes landed on the Playboy costume that she was now wearing, from the black fishnet tights up to the bunny costume and the ears atop her head. She winked as she walked closer to him, circling his chair before stopping directly in front of him, and turned so her back was facing him.

She sat down on his lap, circling her hips and this time he moaned at the contact between them. She smiled as she continued to move against him, and she smiled as she tossed her hair over to the other side as she grazed him.

"Fuck." He murmured, her hands grabbing his and placing them onto her hips, and he groaned once again as he felt her move on top of him, his fingertips pressing down into her skin. She got up suddenly, and he moved forward as he wanted more from her.

"Maybe this isn't the one either." She whispered in his ear, before she was walking back over to the changing area and he groaned quietly as his head fell forward, and he waited for her to come back out. There wasn't any words, no sound, until she finally rounded the corner.

"Jesus, fucking, christ." He groaned, and she laughed as she twirled the fake baton around, "This is the best one, by far. A cop uniform, really?"

He looked over her body as she leaned against the wall, the black fishnets still adorning her legs, this time coupled with a fake cop uniform that barely reached her upper-thigh. It had a deep, low cut shirt and she winked as she walked to him.

"Is this okay?" She whispered, and he nodded as his thoughts became so cloudy as he focused solely on her touch. Her hands pushed down his jeans to mid thigh, and she smiled as she kissed his cheek, and pulled the cuffs off of the side of her hip, "What about this?"

He nodded once more, and held his hands behind the back of his chair and nodded once more. He had never done this before, and she hadn't either. Well, she hadn't done this in the dressing room before.

She cuffed his wrists together, before moving back in front of him as she sank down to her knees. Her eyes flicked up to his as she leaned in to kiss his neck, nails softly scratching against his thighs as she sucked a mark into his skin.

She slowly slid her hand further up his thigh before stopping over the bulge in his boxers and slowly running her hand along his length.

"Fuck," He whimpered, and she winked at him as she pressed a light kiss against his thigh, before tugging his boxers down to pool by his jeans. His cock sprang free, finally giving him some relief since she had been teasing him.

She dropped her mouth down to his thigh, and Ashton let out a shaky breath as she slowly started to kiss his skin, trailing her mouth upwards to his hip as she sucked a hickey onto him. She moved her mouth once more, now trailing kisses to the base of his cock.

She finally made contact with his cock, her lips grazing his head of his cock, before she was licking the tip with her tongue as she collected the bit of precum that was there. She slowly started sucking on his tip, and he moaned.

"I love hearing you moan," She whispered, and he chuckled as he pulled against the hand-cuffs, feeling the metal dig into his wrists, "It's so pretty. I love hearing you be vocal, your voice is just so pretty baby."

Her mouth enveloped him once more, her tongue gliding down his shaft as he looked up at the ceiling, his eyes shutting tightly as she swirled her tongue around him.

"Oh fuck," He breathed out, feeling so much more safer to do so since she told him she loved it. She pushed further along his cock, her nose bottoming our against the base of his shaft and she swallowed around him. Years of practice and force left her so conditioned as to where her gag reflex barely worked anymore, and so she stayed comfortably where she was.

He tugged on his restraints once more, whimpering at the combined feeling of pain and pleasure, "I need to cum soon,"

She nodded as best as she could, and swallowed around him once again before pulling out nearly all the way but stopping at his tip. Her tongue swirled around him, and she brought her hands up to his cock and began to stroke him. The quiet, desperate moans that fell from his lips fueling her to go faster, until he was strained from holding back.

She finally let go, her eyes meeting his as she nodded, "Go ahead and cum for me babe," She whispered, and he let go and a wave of euphoria crashed over him as he finally came into her open mouth. She collected nearly every drop of cum and wiped at her chin, before pushing off of the ground and walking over towards her chair.

She wrapped her black satin robe around her body and tied it tightly as she helped him clean up. She finally undid the handcuffs, and he rubbed the raw skin on his wrists as he finally cupped her cheeks and pulled her in for a deep kiss.

She smiled as she pulled away, and and handed him the bag that he had brought in with him. He smiled at her, but thought about what was in the bag and quickly opened it and dug through, before finding what he was looking for.

"Here, I drew this earlier." He mumbled, pulling out his sketchbook and showing her the drawing. She beamed up at him as she looked at it, amazed at how good he was.

"Can I have it?" She asked, and he quickly nodded as he ripped it out and handed it to her, "You're so talented."

"Thanks, it's a side hobby of mine." He said, feeling embarrassed at the attention. He never showed anyone his drawings, but he felt comfortable, safe, with her. She kissed his cheek as she said goodbye, and walked him out to the front of the club and watched as he disappeared from her view before going back to the bar and sat at it.

"You've never brought a boy here before." Adam said, drying out a glass and she slumped forward over the bar.

"He bought me dinner so I felt I should return the favor. I won't ever see him again," She said, drumming her fingers along the bar as Kayla slid her usual drink towards her, "Thanks darling."

"Anything for you baby," Kayla said, winking at her and she smiled as she took the drink and walked towards the dressing room once more, pushing memories from her mind as she found her chair and let herself fall into it.

She stared at herself in the mirror, watching the drink in the glass disappear as she sipped at it, fueling herself to begin the night.

You're damaged, She thought to herself. It would never work between them, and she knew that. That's why when she was getting ready, she pushed all memories of Ashton out of her mind as she thought about and only about, her routine on stage tonight.

"Hey Luna, when do you want to perform tonight?" Adrian asked as he pushed through the curtain, his eyes focused on the notepad in front of him and she sighed, "There's two spots open. One right when we first open, the other later on around nine. Your choice, you have first pick."

"Both." She muttered, staring at herself in the mirror as a sense of hatred started to flow through her body. Adrian sucked in a breath as he penciled her in, and nodded.

"Anything I can get for you?" He asked, and she shook her head. She thought to herself as quiet filled the air once more, and she stared at herself in the mirror. There wasn't anything that ever really shoved her into this club, and she loved the money and the way that it made her feel powerful.

She was constantly torn and conflicted with herself. On the one hand, working at this club had led to private session gigs that made her a very wealthy woman, on the other hand - she's had to alienate herself from her friends and family, just because she didn't want the two worlds colliding.

She leaned forward and grabbed the wig that she had formed such a close relationship with, and pulled her hair back as she settled it onto her scalp. With that simple thing, she was a new woman.

She was fully Luna, the woman who had been living a secret life for the past seven years.

She glanced at the drawing that he had left with her, her thoughts now occupied with him once more and she sighed as she slid the drawer back and placed it inside, that way she could push the idea of him away.

44 notes · View notes

kaysmuarchive · 5 years

Text

TELL ME WHAT YOU’RE THINKING ➝ CHATZY

who: puck and marley setting: feb 27th., evening /night possible trigger(s): n/a

PUCK only sat out to sleep with Marley so he could prove his brother wrong. But after a lot of text exchanges, he was having a change of heart. He actually enjoyed talking to her and she distracted him from the rest of the road, only to the point of loosing focus. This was probably the stupidest thing he could do with one of his students but here he was going out in public with her. A movie he wasn’t so scared about because it was dark but dinner was a bit nerve wrecking. He had on a simple pair of jeans, matched with a cream long sleeved t-shirt and a jacket to top it off. He ended up shaving his face, making himself look younger. He didn’t look much older with a beard, but he wanted it to seem like they belonged together and no one questioned things. Sitting in his living room, he faced the front door and waited for Marley to arrive so they could leave.

MARLEY couldn't help but to feel nervous. It was like someone had taken all of her nerves and tossed them right into her stomach. She didn't know how she felt right then, to be honest, the last thing that she was expecting was to end up going out with Puck and yet here she was. Going on a date with him. Just because she wanted to feel good and to be honest, he made her feel that way. After telling her mom bye and packing a small overnight bag just in case she ended up staying the night, she made her way out the door and over to Puck's. She was wearing a simple blue dress and her hair was curled over her shoulders. She didn't bring a jacket, it was okay out so she didn't figure she'd need it anyways. Running her fingers through her hair, she looked around slowly as she got out of her car and walked up to his door, knocking on it before she started to rock on her heels gently and she let out a sigh she didn't know she was holding in.

PUCK watched as a car pulled in the drive way and he peeked out the window but out of sight so she couldn’t see him. Hearing a knock on the door he jumped and then quickly looked over himself in the mirror as he went to open the door. “Hey,” he greeted with a smile as he looked over her. Blue was hands down her color. “You look amazing, I feel like I should go change,” he teased. “Did you want to come in or we could go ahead and go?” He asked as he leaned on the door and smiled over at her.

MARLEY waited for him to open the door and she couldn't deny that she was getting nervous. She couldn't really bounce her leg right then but she could at least move. Once he opened the door, she smiled widely up at him and then leaned her head over to the side slowly as she took in the view. "Hey," she spoke back softly, chewing on her lip gently. Shaking her head quickly soon after though, she couldn't let him believe that he didn't look good if not better than her. "No. Stop that. You're going to wear that because I want you to. You look perfect, Noah," she admitted and then she looked inside and took in a breath as she pushed her hands into her pockets. "I'm not sure what time the movie is, so we can do whatever you'd like. If you want I can come in, or we can go. You tell me." She was rambling, so she just stopped talking and looked at her feet while waiting for his answer.

PUCK looked down at his clothes one last time and nodded. “Alright but only because I haven’t done laundry and you insist on me not changing,” he smiled. Looking down at his watch he sighed, “Well, the movie is at 9:00, so we have a little over an hour. Lets go eat and then when we come back I can give you a tour. Locking up behind him he asked her to wait on the sidewalk as he pulled his car out of the garage and asked to move hers in the garage, just a precaution. After he was done he went and opened her door for her and then got in soon after. “I hope you like this place, I’ve only been there a few times but from what I remember it’s really good,” he smiled as he pulled off. “How was your day?”

MARLEY smiled whenever he agreed with her and then she gave him a nod. "Alright, well good. See, I told you that you look great. You just don't listen to me that much, do you?" She teased and then she looked at her phone and back to him. "Oh, okay. That's just fine! No worries there. We can just do that and I would love a tour," she finished. Getting into the car, she pulled in and then walked up to him as he held the door for her. She didn't expect this at all. He was perfect, her perfect kind of perfect and she loved it. "Thank you very much." Buckling in, she looked over at him and then she licked over her lips while listening to him. "I'm sure I will love it. I'm not very picky, you'll learn, I'm very easy to please!" She teased and then looked back out of the window, while her arm rested on the middle. "It was good, just school as usual but it was fun for the most part. What about yours?"

PUCK looked over at her with a shocked expression, “Are you kidding me? I listen to you a lot.” Which wasn’t a lie because he actually was interested in getting to know her and that scared him a lot. Leaning back in his chair, he had one hand on the steering wheel and another on his lap as he focused between her and the road. “All I have to do is give you pasta and I’ve won is what I’m getting so far,” he grinned as he looked over at her. “I imagine it’s boring and you hate it like everyone else. I actually had a decent day. I don’t really enjoy my job but it pays the bills. Talking to you really help me get through the day.”

MARLEY looking over at him, she shook her head a little and then just listened to him with a smile that just kept growing on her face. He was so perfect in her eyes and she didn't know how she felt about that just yet. It scared her, he was her teacher, why should she fall down this road, then again, why shouldn't she? She was 18. It was okay to do, wasn't it? Shaking her head, she got out of her thoughts but she noticed her leg bouncing and she had to make it stop because if she didn't, he'd notice. "Of course you do. I'm aware!" Rolling her eyes at his next comment though, she let out a small giggle and then just found her eyes locked on his once he looked back. "Basically but don't let this go to your head for your own sake, okay? That's all that I ask of you because if you do, then it's ruined," she teased, sticking her tongue out at him. "I actually don't hate it. I love school, I love everything about learning and I want to be a teacher whenever I graduate college, so here's to hoping. English, preferably. Math, maybe. I'm glad that you've had a good day though. It does? You're really the charmer but it's made my day better, too."

PUCK thought about for a split second of just turning the car around and sending her home because the feelings he got when they were texting was one thing but now that they were together, it was just magnified. There was just something about her that he couldn’t explain and he was drawn to it. “I think it’s already gone to my head and there’s no coming back from that once it’s a thing,” he teased. Listening to her talk he noticed her leg shaking and he reached his hand down and placed it on her knee gently and took in a deep breath. He didn’t know how she would take it but he just didn’t want her to be nervous around him. “It’s good that you like school, I like your passion of learning. So, you wanna be a teacher, that’s cool. You seem like you’d be a good teacher, Ms. Rose,” he flirted a little as he looked over at her. “I know you would definitely make me want to come to class,” he flirted some more but then moved his hand because he felt like he was taking it too far with his flirting right then.

MARLEY giggled whenever he was talking about it going to his head. She really enjoyed the idea of it. She really just enjoyed everything about him and that was something that she didn't expect from him. "I guess you'll get a balloon head. I think you should let me deflate it sometime," she teased as she leaned over to kiss his cheek softly. Whenever he had his hand on her leg, she looked down to it, biting on her lip in thought and her leg stopped bouncing as she took in a breath. Looping her arm around his, she almost cuddled into his arm while he spoke. "Really? I'm happy that you do though, I really do try really hard to make sure that everyone gets that I'm serious about school. I don't know why, I just do," biting on her bottom lip, she felt her cheeks turn red and whenever he moved his hand, she pulled it back to her leg and smiled up at him. After time went on, they went to dinner and everything was amazing, it was literally perfect. Running her fingers in her hair, they made it back to his place and she took her food back into the house along with his that they had left over. Walking into the house, she walked behind him and looked around in shock. "This is amazing, holy cow. My house isn't even half this size but whoa," she whispered, smiling up at him as she almost ran into him. "Oof, sorry."

PUCK thought the night was going amazing. Dinner went over well, he didn’t spill anything on himself or her so that was a guaranteed plus. The movie was funny and she seemed to enjoy it. It made him nervous if she was able to read his mind but he couldn’t help his thoughts, she was a wonderful girl. Getting back to his house he let her inside and secured the door behind them. “I just view it as work hard and play harder. We only live once, y’know?” He smiled as he looked over at her. Walking her through his house, the tour ended back in the living room but he was sure to close the door of his sons room because that wasn’t a conversation he was ready to have. If she noticed pictures he would be honest but he wasn’t going to bring it up. “Seems like this concludes the tour. Do you wanna sit outback by the fireplace? I have wine or well tea,” he suggested as he walked to the kitchen. Looking at his watch he noticed the time. “Or do you need to get home?”

MARLEY walked with him through the house and she took in the view of everything. She was just trying to take into consideration the view. It was just amazing to her that he had this. He had this and maybe one day she could have something like this, too. She kept taking in everything, just soaking it in before she looked around and back to him in the living room. "You aren't wrong. You work hard and play harder, this house it honestly the best thing ever. That means that I can have something like this one day, I hope anyways. It's literally so amazing. Looking over at him, she smiled and then bit on her lip before following him into the kitchen. She'd noticed the pictures of the boy but she didn't want to bring it up until he did. "Let's go to the fireplace and tea is fine. I've never had a drink and I also kinda told my mom that I was staying the night over at Kitty's so I guess unless you want me to leave, I'll probably be staying. Unless that's not okay, I can leave. I just figured I could crash on the couch but it's okay, I can go. I can totally leave it you don't like that idea," she rambled, trying to catch her breath as her blue eyes locked on his and then she turned around sighing as she covered her face. "Sorry. I'm doing it again."

PUCK “Thank you. And you totally can have something like this one day,” he smiled over at her as he looked around. He never grew up with much so he knew he was going to live a different life when he got older. Listening to her rambling he watched a she turned away and he walked over in front of her and grabbed her hands, leading her outside to sit on the couches. “You can stay here. I want you to stay here. I’d love to talk to you some more. I enjoy talking to you,” he smiled as he ran inside and put water on the stove for tea. “And the sleeping arrangements will be changed. I will not allow you to sleep on the couch. I’ll sleep on the couch and you can take my bed,” he spoke as he walked back out and sat on the other end of the couch and faced her. “So, how did you like the movie?”

MARLEY "You're welcome," she admitted and the whenever he moved in front of her she looked up at him and then followed him outside. Sitting down, she found herself comfortable more on the couch and she took in a deep breath to gather her thoughts. Hearing he wanted her to stay, it made her feel better as she looked over at him and then she ran her fingers through her hair. "Okay, I'll stay here, as long as you want me to and I'm not invading anything," she spoke in a soft tone before watching him go inside and she looked around before back to her phone quickly to scroll through it and then put it back down quickly. Whenever he sat back down, she smiled and then rested into the couch, keeping close to the fireplace at the same time. "You don't have to sleep on the couch, it's really okay. I wouldn't want you to do that for me. As for the movie, it was amazing. I loved it and also I loved dinner. You did really good. Now, if I could hear your thoughts, that'd be fun. What about you? What'd you think?" She asked, chewing on her lip gently.

PUCK sat across from her and just smiled for a second before he moved closer to her. “You’re not invading anything, I promise. I like the company and when the company is you I enjoy it even more.” Resting back he looked over at her in thought. “Well, how are we going to fix this because I insist on you taking the bed and you won’t be able to change my mind of that,” he insisted with a smirk. Nodding when she said she enjoyed herself he was glad she did. He went to answer her question but he heard the water going off and held his hand up as he went to go make their tea and brought out two mugs, handing her one. Sitting back down he took a sip and sat it on the table. “I thought the movie was great and dinner was amazing as well,” he smiled, “You know if you wanna hear my thoughts, all you have to do is ask.”

MARLEY watched him move closer to her and she couldn't help but smile more as he did. He was something different, she just wanted to make sure that he knew that. "Well, I'm just making sure because I know that you've got your own stuff I'm sure, and I'm just making sure that I'm not doing anything you don't want me to but if you do then, I want you to," she admitted as her eyes found his again. She almost would have leaned over to kiss him but she stopped herself as she chewed on the inside of her bottom lip. "Maybe we'll see how the night goes for what happens because honestly, I refuse to let you do all of this school stuff and then sleep on the couch. I won't do it." Whenever she was waiting for the answer, she leaned closer but then she watched his hand move up before she took the mug from him and took a sip with a content sigh, leaning into the couch again with a content sigh. "Tell me what you're thinking right now," she said in a soft tone, drinking the tea before sitting it on the table as she looked over at him.

PUCK reached over and placed his hand on her knee again, like he had before in the car and looked down at his hand for a second and then looked up at her. “I want you to stay here and I want you to believe me when I say that I want you here,” he spoke in a soft tone as he stared into her blue eyes. “Well, what were you thinking. Do you want me to break out my body pillow and line it down my bed so we each get a side?” He asked with a genuine smile across his face. Hearing her question he sat up from leaning on the couch and moved closer to her to where their legs were touching. “I’m thinking how beautiful you look in that dress... I’m hoping I don’t have anything left in my teeth from dinner because that’s embarrassing. I”m hoping that you actually did have a fun night tonight. And I’m hoping we can do this again sometime,” he spoke softly as he paused a little during each part.

MARLEY watched as he placed his hand on her knee and then she looked back up at him. Letting her hand reach over, she moved it on his face, her fingers moving along his jaw line and then she scooted closer to him slowly. "I believe you," she admitted as she stared back into his eyes. He had her full attention, absolute full attention and she didn't want that to go away. Placing her phone on the table, she slipped it onto silent mode and then she giggled at his next comment. "Yes, you can totally break out the body pillow, I would be okay with that. I think that you could make that work. That body pillow has to say like really firmly between us though," she teased with a small laugh after. Once their legs were touching, she felt her cheeks getting red again and then her smile just grew. "Thank you," she spoke softly and looked at his teeth, paying attention and shook her head. "No, nothing in there. That's a perfect smile. I did, however, have a lot of fun. To be honest, I would love to do it again."

PUCK lied to her about one of his thoughts, he was thinking about kissing her. Not kissing her in a way that he normally would when he brought back. He just wanted to take her in his arms and kiss her slowly, show her how much he enjoyed her. When she moved her hand up to his face he let his eyes close and he just took in the way her hand felt on his face. Fuck it, he thought as he leaned in more and moved his hand up from her knee to her cheek and let his thumb run over her cheek as he stared into her eyes for a minute and bounced his vision between her eyes and lips. Leaning in slowly he pressed his lips against hers and his eyes closed shut as his lips pressed against hers and moved slowly before he pulled back and opened his eyes slowly and looked over at her as his breathing picked up.

MARLEY didn't know what was happening whenever he was moving closer but whenever she watched him moving closer, she took in a deep breath. That was whenever his lips were pressed against hers and she kissed him back softly, her hand moving up to his cheek slowly as she scooted closer to him, staying with him before he backed away and she looked up into his eyes. "Wow," she whispered, leaning back over to him slowly, she kissed him again. She didn't know what she was feeling, she was just going with it. He was amazing and he made her want things that she didn't know that she wanted before she slowly moved back and took in a breath. "Sorry," she whispered, her eyes fluttering open, trying to focus her breathing.

PUCK was starting to panic on the inside but tried his best not to show it. He didn’t want to scare her off, that was the last thing he wanted. When she leaned back in he felt a smirk come across his face as their lips touched again and his eyes fell shut. Moving his lips against her slowly his eyes shot open after she pulled back and he heard her say sorry. Slowing his breathing he let his hands fall to his sides as he looked confused. “Why are you sorry?”

MARLEY heard him speak, looking up at him as he did before biting on her lip in thought. "I like kissing you. I like that you are my first kiss and I want to keep kissing you," she whispered as she finally slowed her breathing, her fingers finding her hair and she sighed. Moving over so she could wrap her arms around his neck, she smiled up at him. "I'm happy you did that."

PUCK smiled over at her at the sound of her words and her reactions and all his nerves and worry went away for the first time fully all night and he just melted into her arms. He couldn’t explain this feeling to anyone if they asked him what the hell he was doing. He was just being happy for the first time in a while. “I’m happy that you liked it because kissing you is fun and I think I would rather kiss you all night over sleeping,” he spoke softly as he leaned in and kissed her again, this time with just a little more force.

finished with head canons of:

their conversations shortened and their making out grew deeper. things got a little too much for marley, he understood and helped her get situated in his room for the night and he went out to the couch.

#points — all.#points — arc three.#noah.#* & ◞ — ‹ ᴠᴇʀꜱᴇ › hot for teacher #* & ◞ — ‹ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ › chatzy #* & ◞ — ‹ ᴄʜᴀᴛᴢʏ › tell me what you’re thinking

1 note · View note

galbinuscarnation · 5 years

Text

The Last of the Real Ones

Chapter 3

Matthew tossed breadcrumbs to the ducks by the enormous pond in Hyde Park. He sat languid on the grass, and his legs were sprawled out in front of him to prevent the ducks from getting too close. The park was always occupied by tourists and locals alike, but today was particularly cloudy, not that it stopped Londoners from enjoying the outdoors. Matthew’s heart yearned to be able to appreciate mother nature’s beauty around him, but his mind continued to race. If only he could escape his current circumstance with his craft, but someone (His name was Charles Buford Fairchild) had to publicly tell the paparazzi the location of his salon, almost as if he thought he was doing his younger brother a favor. Matthew sighed, staring blankly at a duck that was brave enough to waddle closer to peck the bits by his feet.

No, Matthew certainly didn’t appreciate the “free advertising” that he knew his brother would justify his words with. Then again, he and Charles never saw eye to eye, and now with this trying time Charles was trying to build a persona of being a family man for reelection. At least, Matthew was certain that was why Charles was acting much bossier, asking more invasive questions about his life, and simply pushing Matthew’s boundaries with the aforementioned stunt. The salon was a sanctuary; a place that Matthew could express his knowledge without judgement, he could collect stories from his clients that would entertain him for days after. He was able to transform a person’s day by the rewarding smile on their faces, from the work Matthew poured his heart and soul into. His politician brother may have been elected by the people, but it was Matthew that heard their stories.

“She was right, you are wallowing.” a voice that Matthew hadn’t encountered in a month spoke, interrupting his thoughts. Matthew arched an eyebrow and glanced up at James Herondale with a practiced smile.

“Whatever are you talking about, Jamie?” He questioned. It was James turn to arch an eyebrow.

“I gave you permission to call me James, not my childish nickname.” He crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes at Matthew. Matthew let out a short laugh and shook his head.

“Habit, I talk to your sister on a daily basis, it’s kind of ingrained in my mind now.” He explained, pointing to his noggin.

“Daily?” James practically squawked, starling the ducks and they quacked in protest. James turned his attention to the ducks with a sudden challenging smirk, and Matthew starred as James produced some seeds from his pockets and tossed them. “Ha!”

“Did I miss something, you looked as if you were going to challenge that duck to a duel.” Matthew commented and scooted his rear up a bit as the ducks flapped their wings and viciously pecked the ground.

“No, my father hates ducks, so I make every effort to pamper and offer my love in spite.” James smiled fondly at the ducks, and Matthew’s heart ached at the word Father.

“I’m sure Mr. Herondale will be displeased with your affections then,” Matthew attempted to joke, and even to his ears it sounded flat and tired. James crouched down to Matthew’s level and picked at the grass with his fingers.

“Perhaps…” He murmured and glanced up at Matthew, his eyes peeking through the glasses and bangs that put their best effort to obscure them. “I’m not very good at this Matthew so I’m going to tell you that Anna sent me to find you, but I didn’t have the foresight to ask what to do when I did…”

“She wants to know that I am okay and haven’t flung myself into the pond to become one with the water fowl,” Matthew sighed. “I’ll call her as soon as I get home, you didn’t need to come all this way, I’m a stranger to you.”

“This is true, but…” James grimaced. “I was by the salon...there was a crowd and I couldn't get through… your brother was present, and Anna.” Matthew winced when James mentioned Charles’ presence. “After he left Anna told me you’d be here, and locked the salon. Besides I don’t have much to do these days.”

Matthew ran a hand through his hair, combing through the bits with product and adding a more naturally haphazard style to it. “That’s so thoughtful...of both of you. I’m sorry you had to encounter my... less than thoughtful brother.”

“He said he wanted to give you a ride…” James sat on the grass finally, and gave Matthew a sympathetic glance, the kind of look that everyone had been offering lately.

“Yes,” Matthew nodded. “I have to go on with my days though, I can’t close my business until we get word of improvement, the only thing that matter to me is that my father’s alive, he’s awake, it’s just a precaution that he’s still in the hospital…” Matthew normally wouldn’t’ve rambled on about his family’s personal business, but he had the inexplicable sense that he could trust James, that he was someone that could listen to his woes without judgement or offering obligatory solutions. “I have to go home to my darling, make sure there’s food, pay my bills. I can’t… I can’t stop my life…” Matthew could feel his lip trembling and he covered his mouth to ironically stop himself from speaking.

“Matthew,” James reached out, but pulled his hand back a moment before placing it on Matthew’s shoulder. “Anna told me not to keep everything in… Now that I think about it, that's good advice.”

“I know…” Matthew coughed and rested his forehead on his palm. “But it hurts.” He sniffled and was surprised to see a tissue in his line of sight. He took it, giving James an apologetic look before he blew his nose. “Thanks…”

“I do have a question.” James asked after handing Matthew more tissues so he could dab his eyes. “Anna seemed awfully familiar with your brother and about you, why is that?”

“Anna?” Matthew chuckled a little. “She’s practically family. All of them are, in fact.”

“All as in the Lightwoods?” James sounded incredulous and Matthew glanced at James. “They’re my cousins.”

“Yes I’m aware,” Matthew told him carefully while watching James expression grow more confused and apprehensive. “Lucie filled me in after she realized the connection.” He offered as an explanation.

“How much of our lives does Lucie tell you?” James wondered. Matthew tilted his head to think about it, eyeing James as the man eyes bore into the ducks. Lucie and James were opposites, Matthew observed, when it came to discussing their private lives.

“She mostly tells me about her day? Fascinating stuff about the process of publishing. We talk about the Lightwoods a lot too.” Matthew settled with saying. James sighed and gave Matthew a desperate look.

“Has she spoken about me at all?” Matthew could tell it took great effort on James part to ask that, and now he noticed that despite his bold entrance, James was back creeping into a shell. Matthew put aside his own life’s difficulties for the moment, after all he was curious about James, had often asked about him even. Now Matthew was in front of him in the worst kind of circumstances, yet, he could see through James’ effort to find him that not all hope was lost. It wasn't a mere coincidence that they were six degrees separated in their social circles.

“She’s concerned about you. She never specified why it is but you’re back at home with your parents, and said that the haircut I gave you had been a tremendous help.” he admitted that much to James, owed it to him in fact.

The tension in James’ shoulders loosened, and he sighed deeply. “She was right.” He nodded and gave Matthew a wary glance. “I only ask because… your brother seemed to know about me. It was unsettling.”

“Charles?” Matthew couldn't believe his ears. As if his older brother would take an interest in someone unless it benefited him in some way. “Why?” James clasped his hands on his lap and looked away from Matthew. “What I’m about to tell you if something you’d have found out eventually… now that I know how close you are to that side of my family.

I was engaged to a woman named Grace, and we were in the middle of wedding plans when she told me… that she didnt love me. She longer wished to marry me. The problem was, we had already sent out invitations, booked our venue, ordered the food, everything. She left me in the dust to take care of the fall out, including telling our families. It was… humiliating, to say the least. I can’t help but think of how disappointed my parents are that I’ve spent my savings on this, instead of investing in my future.”

Now that James mentioned it, Matthew had heard some talk about a wedding from the Lightwoods. Thomas himself had asked Matthew if he had any expensive suits he could borrow, the minimalist he was. At James last sentence though, Matthew shook his head and reached out to clasped a hand on his shoulder. “I may not know much about your parents, but I know this, they want your happiness. Whatever money that was spent is inconsequential.”

“I could have gotten an education like they wanted,” James continued, shaking his head at Matthew. “It was the money they had saved up for that purpose. Of course, I had begged and convinced them that she was the one, that it was an investment to my future, they of all people would understand.” James shoulders shook and Matthew realized he was crying. “I’m… a failure. I’ve failed them.”

Matthew’s mouth parted, but recognized that this wasn’t an explanation for him, it was James finally letting go of the torment and closedness Matthew has witness in their first meeting. Matthew did what he knew was right, he wrapped his arms around him and squeezed. James froze in his hold, but after a moment rested his head on his shoulder. Matthew held James, forgetting about the ducks, the people walking the paths in the distance, about the darkening early evening sky. Matthew could hear James’ breaths evening out and eventually both of them pulled away. James quickly fished into his bag for more tissues as Matthew watched. He sat next to James, giving him the time he needed to collect himself.

“Why does your father hate ducks?” Matthew inquired, as the ducks waddled and quacked away.

“Childhood trauma…” James croaked, his voice still hoarse from crying. He coughed and Matthew gave James a reassuring smile. This seemed to brighten James, since he sat up straighter and gave a small smile back. “He claims they’re cannibals.”

“Cannibals?” Matthew laughed, wondering how on earth one would go about obtaining that information. “If you feed a duck anything it’ll try to eat it! That's what makes them animals.”

“Try telling that to him.” James shook his head. Matthew chuckled a bit more, and finally noticed how dark it was becoming. He let out a sigh and leaned back into the grass.

“The park closes at dusk, and I must get back to my flat,” He reluctantly informed James.

“Oh, then you should go.” James nodded, glancing at Matthew’s position. “Although… you look as if you’re about to sleep right there.”

“The grass is so soft,” Matthew pretended to close his eyes and laid down on his back. “Perhaps a short nap is in order.”

“Matthew,” James warned. Matthew let out a forced yawn, and his shoulders shook from James’s hands. “You can’t sleep here!”

“Oh alright, since you insist Jamie.” Matthew opened his eyes to give James a teasing smirk. He was not expecting to be confronted with James’ face mere inches away from his.

“James,” he huffed, correcting Matthew as he blinked up at him. Even as the daylight was dimming, Matthew could still see eyes of molten gold staring at him, and although they were a bit red, and nearly covered by bangs, Matthew found himself becoming lost in their light.

“Right,” Matthew cleared his throat as James pulled away, standing up and adjusting the messenger bag on his shoulder. Matthew got up and dusted himself off, checking his phone for the time… if he quickly went to relieve Thomas from dog sitting he’ll have time for a short visit to the hospital.

“So long,” James said, and Matthew’s head snapped up at the realization that James was leaving so soon.

“Wait!” He clutches James’ sleeve and received a startled look. “Wait… would you like to… come with me to my flat?”

“To… your flat?” James repeated, and started shaking his head. Matthew’s grip tightened, he had no idea why this anxiety came over him, but from James’ tug he realized he was holding too tightly. He released James with an apology.

“Sorry, you must be anxious to get home yourself.”

“Not really,” James admitted with a sigh. “I… can't confront my parents at the moment ”

“Understandable.” Matthew nodded, attempting to mask his sudden disappointment.

“I… would be willing to drop you off?” James told him. Matthew stared at James for a beat too long before breaking out a grin he couldn't contain.

“Great!” He clapped James’ back, and James chuckled at his giddiness.

“Only because you looked as if I kicked your puppy.” James teased.

“If you kick my puppy I will smite you!” Matthew threatened and James laughed.

“I wouldn't dare!”

Matthew and James arrived at the flat, and Matthew heard the barks of Adele greeting him. He put the key in the knob, but paused, with the sudden realization that he forgot to mention something to James. As he opened his mouth to explain, the door swung open to reveal Thomas, looking dishevelled as if he had been asleep. Matthew froze as Thomas regarded him tiredly, before his eyes landed on James.

“Oh hullo James, long time no see.” Thomas greeted, rubbing his neck bashfully but giving his distant cousin a friendly smile. James was stiff and silent and Matthew silently cursed himself for his recklessness. A blur of black and white bounded between Thomas’ legs, and Thomas chuckled as Adele sniffed James’ and Matthew’s legs as well, before stretching her paws up on Matthew.

“Well I should be getting home…” James said quietly, and Matthew scooped Adele up so she wouldn’t run around everywhere. He gave Thomas a helpless glance, which Thomas raised an eyebrow at but continued to face James with his friendly posture.

“Really? The kettle’s still warm, you could stay for a cuppa.” Thomas offered, and Matthew smiled gratefully at Thomas for at least attempting to amend the awkwardness that transpired.

“No really, my parents will be worried,” James glanced between Thomas and Matthew with a wistful stare that Matthew couldn’t interpet. “Enjoy your tea…” With that James briskly turned and headed down the steps. Matthew held Adele tightly as he watched James’ retreating back, and she licked his face sensing his queasiness. When the door downstairs shut, Matthew sagged against the wall with a frustrated groan, startling Adele and she leapt out of his hold, thudding on the ground loudly. Thomas ushered her into the apartment and shut the door, before facing Matthew with a bemused expression.

“Matthew? What was that about?” He asked kindly, and leaned against the wall on his shoulder. “James was always aloof, but that was weird even for him.”

“I don’t know!” Matthew wasn’t sure how much to tell Thomas, who was one of the people he never kept things from. He never disclosed that his thoughts wandered back to the memory of James, once he was away from the turmoil of the hospital, and had the energy that he lately almost never had once he was home. He hardly had the words to describe his instantaneous need to find out more about him, about how he subtly managed to get bits of information from Lucie, who was only too eager to offer, but then would immediately backtrack because he wanted to find out from James himself. How he had secretly been keeping his salon open all month in hopes that James would wander back, even if he couldn’t be there in person on his father’s worsened days. How despite only meeting him once, Matthew was completely, and utterly, under the spell of James open and laughing eyes as they conversed, when the man had entered his space guarded in spirit, and hiding behind his spectacles and books.

“Are you certain? Or you don’t want me to know?” Thomas saw right through Matthew, though how much he saw, Matthew wouldn’t know. He let out a deep sigh and put a hand on his forehead, he couldn’t keep this up even if he tried.

“I’m sick,” He began. Thomas raised his eyebrows and gave him an expectant glance to continue. “...as in lovesick.”

“Ah, well that can be fixed easily- Wait, what does that have to do with James…? Oh.” Thomas stared wide eyed at Matthew for a moment to digest this information, and then shoved his shoulder. “Lovesick? Really Matthew?”

“It’s no joke, I am gravely afflicted.” Matthew continued, and Thomas grinned at him.

“James huh?” He then looked concerned and leaned in to whisper. “Are you sure? He’s...well you see he was recently in a serious relationship…”

“He told me,” Matthew sighed, and stared at his hand for a moment, before placing it down. “I think… I’ve been too forward. I haven’t given him any time to adjust… I’m shameless.”

“How long have you known each other? You always take him to your flat?” Thomas asked genuinely, trying to make sense of the situation. “Also stop that, you’re not shameless, you’re passionate.”

“No, in fact tonight was my second encounter, and I basically dragged him over here without giving it any thought Thomas!” Matthew groaned.

“Well…” Thomas looked sheepish. “Then you may have a different problem on your hands and I’m afraid I didn’t help any.”

“What could you possibly mean?” Matthew stared at Thomas, how could he blame himself for something that he only just found out about?

“Well, consider how this may look to a man you’ve been ‘forward’ with. Being invited to your flat, together, with your dog, and arriving only to find a man not related to you sleeping on your couch and caring for your beloved pet. Also, said person happens to be related to him and knows about his romantic history.”

Matthew knew where this was going before Thomas even finished and slid on the floor defeated. “Bloody hell, I really messed this up!”

Thomas slid down to sit next to him and placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Want me to contact Lucie? Maybe get James’ number to apologize?”

“Thomas, you are perfect,” Matthew patted Thomas’ face, who scrunched up his wide nose in confusion. “But not necessary.” Matthew took his own phone out and began to dial Lucie Herondale’s number. “That’s what I need to do.”

“Oh, then I can go home now? To sleep?” Thomas asked Matthew hopefully. Desperate scratches and whines came from behind the door and both Matthew and Thomas stood up. Matthew nodded at Thomas, phone in his ear, and waved his good friend goodbye, before opening his door and shutting it. He was going to make this up to James, as a new friend, instead of being lead astray by his selfish wants for something more. James deserved better, he deserved to be allowed time for that kind of a decision, Matthew decided.

#heronchild #Matthew Fairchild #james herondale #the last hours #the shadowhunter chronicles #Heronchild Hairdresser

3 notes · View notes

billxharry · 6 years

Text

As a very special “This blog now has 100 followers!” post (I missed the landmark though, it suddenly jumped to 103!) I want to post something not of my own doing, but rather a very special submission I was sent. As I mentioned, when I started this blog, I honestly thought, after so long shipping these two by myself, it would just essentially be me, talking to me, but I was really hoping when the second movie was released, *perhaps* a few would join me. I however, absolutely did not expect to be sent fanfiction. To be sent anything honestly made this blog worth it 1000000%, but to be sent fanfiction of such quality is… more than I could have hoped for. Thank you so, so much @ rebel-scum-12il96m18. This was such a treat, and thank you for allowing me to share it with the rest of the followers. As I’ve already told you, I hereby decree you the residential writer here at BillxHarry. without further ado, please, everyone, read this.

“I’m Spontaneous”

Author: @ rebel-scum-12il96m18

Summary: Bill and Harry take a ride on the boat - nowhere in particular - Bill’s ranting turns to Harry making a decision to be more spontaneous.

The boat rocked smoothly on the waves. The sun was shining brightly overhead, giving off a heat the bordered unbearable. Most of the day was spent with Harry leaning against one of the poles, a book in his hands, silently turning the pages, glancing up every so often to Bill who sat the the tip of the boat, his leg crossed over the other, notebook resting on his knee, pen in hand, scribbling away with ideas. Bill sighed in frustration, biting the end of his pen, squinting at the paper in front of him.

Harry gave a short laugh and shook his head, lowering his head again back to his book. “You’re doing great, Bill.”

“You haven’t read it,” Bill sighed exasperated. “It’s terrible, I can’t form my thoughts into coherent sentences to put onto the page.”

“So take a break,” Harry replied like it was the most obvious thing in the world. In a way, it was. They had taken the boat out that day to relax, and the only reason Bill had turned to writing was because an idea had struck him and he wanted to get it written down before he forgot. That, of course, turned into a full fledged writing session, making Harry glad he’d happened to bring along a book.

Reluctantly, the notebook and pen were set aside in favor of Bill taking a seat on the floor next to Harry. Bill was reminded of the time when they first met when Harry admitted to having read and loved his books. The first time Bill could remember caring about hearing anybody’s praise of his books.

Now they sat in silence, Bill allowing Harry to finish his chapter before striking up a conversation. It wasn’t long before a slip of paper was pressed into the book and it was closed with a soft snap. Harry turned to face his friend - God, he wished to be more than that - and waved a hand is an encouraging way.

“Alright,” he spoke, pushing up his sunglasses. “Tell me about the book.”

Bill gave him a questioning look. “You know all about the book, I’ve talked your ear off about it.”

“Yes, but this is a method I learned awhile back called the ‘rubber duck method’ or something along those lines,” he waved his hand again, more dismissive than anything else. “It’s used a lot in programing. When you’re staring at lines and lines of code for hours on end, things tend to get a bit jumbled up. They grab a rubber duck, sit down, and explain everything they’re doing. Because they’ll know what they’re talking about and it sorts it out in their heads and they figure out where exactly they went wrong or what they may need guidance in.” He paused for a minute, letting Bill soak in the roundabout story he just told. “So, here I am. I’m your rubber duck. Explain the book to me.”

And so Bill did. He explained how he feels it needs to share the similar aspects of his last books without feeling exactly the same. That’s where he was feeling stuck, everything seemed too much the same.

Bill continued to talk and Harry loved every second of it. He could listen to Bill talk for hours, but about 30 minutes in, Harry hated to admit he’d tuned out. Too focused on the way Bill moved his hands while he talked, or how he looked everywhere rather than fixated on one spot. Harry had never been happier to be wearing sunglasses, knowing that the other man couldn’t see the way his eyes stole glances to his lips every so often.

The boat rocked against the current. Harry’s mind was everywhere at once. He wished more than anything that he could be as spontaneous as Bill, to have the nerve to pack a bag and head off on some wild adventure to nowhere in particular, to see the world the way Bill saw it.

Harry didn’t know how long Bill hadn’t been talking for but when he rezoned himself, Bill was staring at him, a soft smile playing on his lips. “You okay, bud?”

Screw it, why couldn’t Harry be spontaneous once in a while?

In a moment Harry’s lips found Bill’s, one hand on Bill’s shoulder, the other on his own leg. It was messy and inexperienced and Harry pulled away almost as soon as it had started, leaving Bill with no time to process and react accordingly.

Harry was stumbling out apologies as soon as his lips were free, hand falling from Bill’s shoulder into his lap. Rambling on about how Bill was straight and, “that was very much out of line,” and, “I probably just ruined our entire friendship with one impulse decision,” and, “this is why I never do spontaneous things, they always turn out terrible-.”

Harry was silenced before anything other than a soft gasp could escape him. Bill’s hand came to cup the side of Harry’s face, his other hand placing itself on top of the one still on Harry’s knee. He sat there frozen for a moment, too confused to respond.

He finally snapped out of his trance and realized holy shit, Bill was kissing him.

Finally, Harry began to respond, Bill’s lips guiding Harry’s into a more steady rythem, the hand on Harry’s cheek moving to the back of his neck to deepen the kiss, Harry’s free hand found its way back to Bill’s shoulder, his other turning upward to press his palm into Bill’s. It was Bill, of course, who interlocked their fingers. They stayed like this for a minute, blissful and relaxed. Just feeling each other so close and warm and happy.

When they broke, they didn’t pull away from each other, just stayed there, staring at each other, searching the other’s soul for signs of regret or doubt as to what just happened.

“If,” Bill broke the silence between them, “all your spontaneous activities are anything like that one, please be more spontaneous.”

They shared a laugh but for slightly different reasons; Bill laughed partly because he was nervous, Harry laughed partly because he could only imagine what would happen if he acted on every impulse he had when he was around Bill, but both laughed also because they were so relieved to have finally moved in some direction between them. They’d been chasing after each other for ages, since they met before Sophie’s wedding.

Harry’s head shook slightly, his face going serious. “You’re straight,” was all he said before unwinding himself from Bill’s arms and moving to stand up.

A hand caught his wrist, causing him to pause his standing process. Bill scooted closer to him, his face inches away from Harry’s, “When did I ever say I was straight?”

Harry tilted his head. “What does that mean?”

Bill gave a slight smile. “It means what it means.” He moved a little closer. “Look, I don’t like labels, they’re too constricting. At least when it comes to sexuality. I’ve never said once that I was straight.”

Harry opened his mouth to say something, closed it, thought a second, and finally spoke. “But you’ve only ever been with women,” he pointed out, not trying to sound rude, simply trying to make sense of the situation.

Bill chuckled a little. “And you slept with Donna and possibly got her pregnant. Who you see or sleep with has no effect on who you are.” He gave another soft laugh as Harry thought this over, nodding in agreement. “And besides, haven’t you ever met someone who’s into guys and gals?”

Harry didn’t have any time to respond, their lips were together again. Neither one knew who innishiated it but neither really cared. They were content with the fact that it had started. And once it started, it didn’t stop for what seemed like ages. Harry pulled away for air, their lips still finding each other in small pecks while each of them caught their breath.

“Maybe you’re right,” Harry spoke between kisses.

Bill made a questioning hum in response.

“I do need to be more spontaneous.”

#Bill Anderson #Harry Bright #Bill Anderson/Harry Bright #Mamma Mia!#fan fic #submissions #author: rebel-scum-12il96m18 #I truly cannot tell you how pleased I am you sent this to me.#<3 #words can't express how much I love it #but in the next post I am reblogging this and trying to do just that #submission #fic recs

20 notes · View notes