#over the past (at the time) 14 years they’d put out SO much music
Text
2022 was such a great time to become a shawol 💎
#over the past (at the time) 14 years they’d put out SO much music#both as a group and as individuals#and minho’s dramas and films (i really need to watch more of them)#i had a whole year to catch up on everything they’d done before i found them#and i got to know jjong and get to a point in my grief where i can see him as a full person and not this sad thing to be avoided#and now jonghyun is one of the most important people i’ve ever had in my life#on another note#i got to see key release gasoline and killer#and minho in the fabulous#onew’s dice#and i got to find taemin and he has such a positive presence in my life#i had time to get to know and begin loving these five shining stars at my own pace#and in just a few months i’ll be getting my first tattoo and it’ll be for jjong <3#and now taeminie is about to come home#and onew is about to release his first solo album#and there’s going to be a new SHINee album#life happens when it’s supposed to sometimes and i feel really glad that 2022 was when i was meant to find SHINee#bunny leader 🐰#my moon 💛🌙#space boy 🔑#choi tenderheart ❤️🔥#the one and only <3#5 shining stars 💎
1 note
·
View note
Text
chapter 1 - the boy in the bookshop
(this is on my ao3 - the fic is called 'the moonage daydream to his lady stardust')
remus lupin woke up to a cold and bright january morning. he’d always had a thing for blue skies, waking up when there was a patch of light shining through his cotton curtains, with the feeling that the day was going to be a good one. he didn’t know it yet, but this day was going to be better - well, at least the best he could hope for. remus got out of bed, searching for the socks he’d discarded on the floor the previous night, and slipped them on as he walked towards the windows. he opened the curtains and let a bright stream of light enter the room, showering it in pretty little patterns and rainbows. the sky was all blues and pinks and purples and fluffs of clouds streaked across the sky, as though someone had drawn them with a paintbrush.
the apartment had only been his for 3 months, but it already felt like home. on coming to london, he’d bought various things from home like his record collection, his plants (stuart, kiki, and jeff), an inexplicable amount of mugs and a couple of books that he’d accumulated over the years. however, remus had always been looking to grow his collection. books were a safe space for him; a world where he could be anyone and anything, live in the biggest castles, the prettiest cottages, watch someone else grow and go through the phases he was going through. classics allowed him to feel a sense of solidarity and connection with those from the past, fantasy let him be the most confident, strongest, beautiful person and poetry let him see that he wasn’t alone - the fact that he could read and hold someone’s experiences and hopes and fears in his very own hands made him feel, well, it made him feel-
“boo!” a hand grabbed him by his shoulder.
“fuck me.” he whispered.
he turned round to face his flatmate lily.
“i was calling out for you, y’know.”
“shit. sorry. didn’t hear you.” he said, pulling her into a hug.
“daydreaming again?”
“you know me too well,” he grinned. “anyway, what did you want?”
“well, i was wondering if you had anything to say to me.”
remus mind buzzed. fuck, he thought, what have i forgotten this time? he’d remembered to lock the door when he came home from work, he’d put out the bins, cleaned the kitchen, made lily’s cake-
“fuck! happy birthday.”
“there we go.” she laughed.
“i’m so sorry. i was just thinking about… well, you know. and only just got up.”
“excuse me,” she mocked. “do you mean to say that you don’t spend every waking moment thinking about me?”
remus laughed. “of course i do, lilyflower, of course. how could i not? just look at you, with your ravishing looks, and pretty ginger hair, and intellect. and your obsession with loving people that are way below you.”
“you flatter me, remus. always the charmer.” she giggled.
remus’ stomach growled.
“ooo, someone’s hungry.” she said. “and don’t worry about breakfast. i took the liberty of cooking for both of us on my special day. i knew you’d be tired.” she smiled, hugging him.
after a breakfast of pancakes coated in too much nutella than remus would like to admit, he showered, brushed his hair (only to mess it up again), threw on a band t-shirt, jumper, jeans, patterned socks and docs, said goodbye to lily and left for the day.
thanks to his brain and stupid boss making him work an extra shift at the concert venue, remus had forgotten to buy lily’s present. he’d always been a last-minute kind of person, but he was really pushing it this time. remus has known lily since he was 14 when they bumped into each other on accident, whilst reading a book. hers had been pride and prejudice and his had been maurice. they’d been heading to the same english class and soon became the best of friends. they sat by one another every lesson, recommended books and music, and had been remus’ only friend forever. when he was 16, and felt ready enough, he came out to her as bisexual. and then, once lily was ready, so did she. for a while, people had thought they were a couple and, in fairness, remus had thought about it once or twice, but they were better as friends. platonic love was just perfect.
remus stopped outside the bookshop. it was his favourite and he always found the cheapest books with the best stories and sweetest covers. it was a run-down kind of place, vintage, one could call it, and had a comforting and warm air to it - which remus liked.
he stepped inside and the bell rang.
a boy looked up from the counter, one he hadn’t seen before. tattoos snaked up his arms. his ears were covered in small rings, studs and loops, particularly round his helix. a leather jacket sat on the chair behind him and remus assumed it was his. he had beautiful shiny blacked hair that was tied up in a messy bun with a pencil through it at the back of his head. remus’ eyes moved down towards his hands, which were adorned in silver rings. and his eyes seemed to glow with a kind of dark but soft energy.
fuck. me. he thought.
“can i help you?” the boy asked.
“errm, no. i think. yeah. i’m fine. all good. just, yeah, just looking.” he stuttered, his face burning up.
“alright, cool. well, let me know if you need anything.” grinned the boy, revealing a ring at the top of his teeth.
“gay. i mean, okay…”
oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, oh shit. what the fuck was that? remus was sure the boy could see him blushing, not even in a cute way. just bright fucking red.
anyway, he could not let a cute boy - the hottest man he had ever seen in his life stop him now. he was on a mission and would not leave the shop until he was done.
he looked around the shop, thinking about lily. she was usually a classics type, liked old romances - but not the kind where the woman takes a passive role. the sort where she fought against her society, against the men and the time, and, although you knew she’d end up with a man, it was the journey she liked. now all remus had to do was find it.
he went over to the classics section and scanned the shelf. boring, gay, women, boring, too long, read already, gay, boring, sexist, genuinely awful and gay. clearly, the classics shelf had a lot to offer. remus ran a hand through his hair; this was going to be harder than her thought.
“are you sure you don’t need help?” asked the boy at the counter.
“ha, might take you up on that offer.” remus smiled.
“the strain of choosing a book, i feel you.” he said, walking over to remus.
“yeah, i know. i can never choose one. always end up spending hours in here, going over the pages.”
“well, what kind of thing are you looking for?”
“it’s a present for a friend. i kind of forgot it was today ‘cus i was gonna come yesterday but i had to work late because my boss is a dick and then i spilled curry on myself at 3am and cried and went to bed instead.”
fuck, he always did this, always overshared to the most random people at the most awkward times, great coping mechanism, right?
“sounds rough.” he said, giving remus a sympathetic smile. “almost as bad as mine.”
“oh?”
“yeah. i woke up late, missed the bus, which made me late for class, got shouted at by the teacher, forgot my homework, got shouted at again, cried in front of the class, stormed out, lost my keys, had to sleep at my mate’s house, listened to him and his girlfriend the whole night, watched eyeliner tutorials until 6am, got up for work, cried again, and i think that’s about it.”
“shit. slightly worse than mine,” he nudged. “but at least you didn’t spill curry on yourself.”
“no point crying over spilled curry.” the boy shrugged.
“too late for that.” remus laughed.
the boy laughed too.
remus smiled.
“anyway, you said you were looking for a book for your friend?”
“Yeah.”
“what kind of stuff do they like?”
“usually classics, with a female, feminist protagonist, something with enemies to lovers or friends to lovers, and where men don’t dominate the whole scene.”
“pretty specific,” the boy laughed under his breath. “but, i think i might have something.”
remus watched his eyes as he laced a finger across the shelf. they seemed golden in the light. and it was cute. really, really cute.
“ah-ha.” he said, pulling one out.
“little women.”
“little women indeed. have you read it?”
“yeah, a while back though, i think.”
“well, if your friend likes what i think they do, then she should really like this. it’s pretty beautiful and the story’s good and it’s very female-lead. yeah. should work.” he smiled.
“okay, cool. well, i’ll take it. how much?” he said, pulling his card out and walking over to the counter.
“usually 12 pounds. but i’ll do it for seven. because you look desperate. and cute.”
what? what the actual fuck? cute. this man. this fucking man had just called him cute. remus could have cried right there and then.
“haha, cool.” he said, trying to play it off.
he swiped his card on the machine.
“do you want me to wrap it for you? i can even put a bow on it, if you want.”
“yeah, sure. she’d like that. i’m shit at wrapping presents anyway.”
the boy picked up a roll of brown paper from behind him and cut a piece to fit the book, wrapping the paper around it and sealing it with tape.
“ooo, which ribbon?” he asked, showing remus blue, red and green rolls.
“the green.”
“good choice. my personal favourite.”
remus watched as the boy’s fingers looped the perfect bow of forest green. he went to take the book.
“oh, wait. hang on.” he reached up and pulled out the pencil that was holding his hair up. it all came tumbling down in a swath of shiny black and the boy shook it out of his face.
as if this man could not get any more pretty, remus thought.
the boy doodled a little smiley face and kiss on the paper.
“courtesy of yours truly.” he bowed.
“fabulous.” remus chuckled.
“have a good day cutie.” the boy waved as remus started to leave the shop.
“you too.” remus sighed.
and left the shop feeling a whole lot happier than he had done this morning. this boy had called him cute. this beautiful, beautiful, beautiful boy had called him cute. and remus held on to that until the next time he saw him.
2 notes
·
View notes
Note
Please tell me if this comparison has been made or if I’m clinically insane and over thinking things. I was listening to MCR when I thought about the infamous Ryan Ross in MCR shirts/“MCR makes me dance” and I only just thought about how There’s a Reason These Tables are Numbered Honey, You just haven’t Figured it Out Yet and Honey, This Mirror Isn’t Big Enough for the Two of Us have similar titles and both are a dramatic take on a relationship gone bad. Do you think Ryan was enough of a fanboy to put the honey in there as sort of a nod to MCR? Or, once again, am I over thinking things? Thanks for your insight
Entirely possible, but could be coincidental. It may not have even been a conscious decision, but Ryan did say he gave Panic the incredibly long and odd song titles because everyone else at the time was doing it and he thought it was funny, so maybe, since MCR were a big influence on him.
The narrator also calls the girl honey in Petes book, I know that's an odd thing to remember but it always stuck out to me reading it because it was a word people don't use, they use it twice in one sentence, and felt strange and unnatural even reading it as a 14 year old. And then I saw a quote from Pete about "Sugar We're Goin' Down": “I wrote the lyrics in Chicago,” bassist Pete Wentz told Rolling Stone of modern emo’s national anthem. “I was with my dad, and we were listening to the old music where they’d always say ‘sugar’ and ‘honey’ — stuff like that. I was like, ‘Why doesn’t anyone do that anymore?’”
Probably less-than coincidentally, the guy Pete cowrote the book with was an editor at Rolling Stone, IIRC, and he knew Ryan too. And then Gerard uses sugar in "The Jetset Life is Gonna Kill You." And famously over uses "sugar" as a pet name in every fanfic ever written.
I think a lot of it is kind of inspired by the good old days or whatever, Ryan in particular is very much obsessed with the past and old fashioned romance (he gave a girlfriend a locket from the 1800s which I think says a lot about his personality, lmao) but the rest of them are too-- for better or for worse. In order to avoid going on an annoying tangent I think this part of Pete's book sums up The Vibes they're all going for
9 notes
·
View notes
Text
Stray Kids Are Breaking Records, Breaking Eardrums and Breaking Limits (INTERVIEW)
A Stray Kids track a day keeps the stress away. Though one can argue the K-pop group's energetic brand of "noise music" could possibly heighten tension, their bass-bumping, get-the-crowd-jumping songs are encouraging, vital points to Stray Kids' calling: to be the voices of their generation.
As showcased on their fiery 2019 hip-pop hit "MIROH," or 2020's heavy-hitting "God's Menu," Stray Kids — often abbreviated as SKZ — are unrelenting in their journey of self-expression and their determination to push themselves, and their fans, to their full potential. A prime example? Their second studio album, NOEASY, released Aug. 23.
youtube
Source: Pop Crush
The 14-track project, the majority of which was produced by sub-unit 3RACHA (Bang Chan, Changbin and Han), exhibits Stray Kids' ability to bring the noise no matter the tempo. NOEASY starts off strong with five in-your-face tracks that blend EDM and hip-hop elements (lead single "Thunderous," "Cheese," supporting single "Domino," "The View" and "SSICK"), while the later part of the album experiments with different genres and styles, from jazz-pop to rock.
Just three years into their career — they formed in 2018 — members Bang Chan, Lee Know, Changbin, Hyunjin, HAN, Felix, Seungmin and I.N. already carry dozens of award nominations and wins under their belt, and boast chart-topping hits in both physical and digital sales. Even before the release of their second album, the group already set a new record by becoming the first artist under JYP Entertainment to reach 1 million pre-orders.
We recently caught up with the members to talk about NOEASY, the adorable SKZOO version of "Thunderous" and why touring is their first and foremost priority.
youtube
Congratulations on your second album! A studio album takes lots of work, so how does it feel to have this out there in the world now?
Changbin: We really put our everything into preparing this album and we're really confident in it, so I’m really happy that STAY can finally listen to it!
Lee Know: We couldn’t wait to put this out because there are so many really, really good songs on it, so it feels great to finally release this album.
Hyunjin: Somehow a year has already passed, and we’re so thankful to our STAY who have waited for us. The entire album is good, so we hope STAY really enjoy it.
NOEASY has already achieved the title of being the best-selling album in JYP Entertainment in history. Any thoughts on that? What other records would you guys like to break?
Bang Chan: That title was achievable all thanks to STAY! If it weren't for STAY, we wouldn’t have been able to have even gotten this far. Stray Kids are known as “the kids that enjoy breaking things." We break objects, break eardrums and break limits, so breaking another record wouldn’t be so bad. Of course, we’ll need the help from STAY!
I.N: I hope we grow even more with the next album, so much so that people will describe us as artists who are constantly improving.
What were your first impressions of the title track?
HAN: When we listened to the final product, it made me really happy that the track sounded really fresh, the lyrics were very witty and full of spirit and it clearly embodied Stray Kids’ distinct color. I wanted to hurry and work on the performance and share the song with someone!
Felix: The song is really unique and I believe that we were the only team to make it impactful.
Seungmin: One day, upon arriving at home, 3RACHA immediately played the song for me. The moment I heard it, it felt electrifying, and I really wanted it to be a title track. That’s why I voiced a lot of my opinion, too.
3RACHA (Bang Chan, Changbin and Han), you guys have made a name for yourself and were heavily involved in this second album just like past releases. What was it like with this project?
Bang Chan: Just like any other project that we’ve worked on, we just had fun. We experimented with a lot of different styles and tried our best to widen our musical spectrum.
Changbin: We knew there would be a lot of expectations as this would be a full album, so we really put a lot of effort into the process.
HAN: The process was a lot of fun. We’d ask ourselves, “What should we attempt? What should we try next?” And we looked forward to what we’d come up with while working on this album.
How was it different this time?
Bang Chan: The “let’s just have fun” part hasn’t changed at all, but the biggest difference would be the genres of music and the ways we recorded the songs.
Changbin: Perhaps because our second full album is the first album we’re releasing after [television competition] Kingdom, there was a bit of pressure to meet people’s expectations. When pondering what everyone would be expecting of us, we thought they’d definitely be looking forward to something new in true Stray Kids’ fashion. I think that’s the part that we contemplated a lot.
HAN: I think, compared to before, we had a little more fun while working on this album. There was no time crunch, and we worked with the thought of making music that best fits who we are today, so I think the end result came out really well.
What would you say were the key highlights for the album?
Bang Chan: One thing that I hope people will notice is the improvement of all the members’ recording skills. We put a lot of effort into all the songs.
Changbin: The album includes unit songs in which all of our members took part during the creative process.
HAN: I hope people look forward to Stray Kids’ distinct musical color, our wit and how much we’ve matured.
When you guys came up with NOEASY as the title, how did you define it in your own terms?
Bang Chan: This might sound cheesy, but life itself is pretty “no easy." Everyone goes through obstacles, everyone has their own downs and lows, but I feel like it depends on how “noisy” you’re going to be to overcome those hardships.
HAN: NOEASY is trying to convey that things may be hard, but we’re going to break through that difficulty with our sound! I think the best way to explain it is that even if things are tough, as long as we have the sound of Stray Kids and the sound of STAY, we can overcome anything.
youtube
You spoiled your fans with so much pre-release content, which would you say were your favorites and why?
Lee Know: The SKZOO teaser was the most memorable. I would say the cuteness amidst the power was the key point.
Hyunjin: The trailer video was a little embarrassing to film, but after seeing it all come together, it looked so cool that I hope we get to do it again next time!
Seungmin: We worked on unit songs that were included on this album, and the Song Camp teaser videos that showed the creative process behind those unit songs were really good! I think our STAY really enjoyed them, so I hope we can do that type of content again.
About the SKZOO version of the “Thunderous” video: Whose idea was it?
Felix: As we prepared for our comeback, we wanted to impress and entertain our fans with something fun and unique, so we all came to one conclusion which was wearing our costumes for “Thunderous."
Your music has become incredibly encouraging and has touched many STAY around the world. What would you say is your ultimate message as Stray Kids?
Bang Chan: At one point in their lives, people will have a moment where they feel astray from the road that they’ve chosen, and I would like those people to know that they’re not the only ones that feel that way. So, whenever you need someone to keep you company, just know that Stray Kids are here to get you back on track.
You guys pretty much owned 2020 with hit after hit, including “God’s Menu” and “Back Door." How has it been working and releasing music in the midst of the pandemic?
Changbin: There was a lot more time being spent at home, but I didn’t want to waste that time, and instead used it to consistently work on new music. I hope people listen to our songs and gain strength during this challenging time.
Seungmin: To be honest, I was really bummed we couldn’t get to meet our STAY in person, but I think we promoted our album hoping that STAY could feel our love through videos, our music and their hearts even from afar. I’m grateful because I think our sincerity was relayed despite not being able to see each other in person. We spent our time working really hard even in the unseen!
When the pandemic is over and everything’s okay, what’s the first thing you want to do?
Bang Chan: World tour, first priority!
Lee Know: The very first thing I want to do is have a fan meeting with STAY.
Changbin: Definitely an in-person concert.
Hyunjin: I want to go on a world tour to hurry and meet our STAY all over the world and experience new cultures in different countries! I also want to perform for our STAY in-person at Korean music shows.
HAN: A concert! I want to hurry and have a concert so we can vibe with STAY and sing together in the same place. I miss this so much and can’t wait until we can do this again.
Felix: World tour!
Seungmin: I would say the first that comes to mind is a concert with STAY where we can finally greet them and have fun together!
I.N: I want to do a world tour.
Congratulations on your third anniversary! Do you guys have any wishes, individually or as a group?
Bang Chan: Individually, I just wish for everyone to be safe and happy. As a team, I wish that we can reach places that haven’t been reached before with the help from STAY.
Lee Know: I really want to be able to let STAY experience our performances visually and physically in real life as soon as possible.
Changbin: I want to make music and perform as Stray Kids for a long time.
Hyunjin: I’m sad that we can’t right now, but I would really like for this time of coronavirus to pass so we’re able to make many more memories with STAY. I really miss the fan meetings, concerts and world tours.
HAN: I want to mature more and continue growing in my music and just as a person. I would like to make even better music so that I can continue to touch STAY’s hearts and give them joy.
Felix: Individually, I hope to make a lot of memories and give a lot of hope and happiness to the STAY all around the world to the best of my ability. As a team, we really want to go on a world tour to meet our STAY as soon as possible.
Seungmin: I want to show our fans an even more improved version of ourselves. My wish is to show STAY that we’ll never go backwards!
I.N: I would like to continue improving and be described as an artist of consistent growth. I want to become an artist that’s a good influence on people.
What’s something you would like people to know about SKZ if they haven’t given them a chance yet?
Lee Know: We’ve got backbone. Once you fall for us, it’s hard to get out.
Hyunjin: I hope that after listening to our diverse music and watching our extravagant performances, people will notice us a little more.
Anything else you’d like to say? Speak now or forever hold your peace!
HAN: STAY, thank you for always giving us positive energy. We feel bad because it seems like we’re always just on the receiving end, but we’ll work hard to reciprocate what you’ve given to us! We’re always so thankful for you, and we miss you so much. We love you, and please continue to watch over us.
64 notes
·
View notes
Text
Life’s Lessons - Be My Valentine?
AO3 Link: Read here
Square Filled: Squirting
Pairing: Mechanic!Dean x Female!Teacher!Reader
Word count: 8,770 (oops. Sorry).
Rating: Explicit 18+!
Summary: It’s Dean and Y/N’s first Valentine’s Day, and he has a romantic evening planned, with surprises which he can’t wait to share with her.
Warnings: So much fluff. Like, so much. Dean being sweet and romantic (yes, that’s a warning). And then so much smut. Swearing, Dirty talk, D/S elements, Dom!Dean, Sub!Reader, Oral Sex (Female receiving), Vaginal fingering, Squirting, Gags, Brief impact play (belt), Restraints (belt), Brief spanking, Unprotected sex (wrap it up before you tap it, guys), Rough sex. More fluff.
Music: Wonderful Tonight by Eric Clapton (Dean and Y/N street scene)
Life’s Lessons Spotify Playlist
Created for @spnkinkbingo
A/N: The first time stamp*! Wooo! I’m so excited for you guys to read it, I really hope you love it, because I sure had a great time writing these two again, all loved up and ready to celebrate Valentine’s Day! Happy reading and enjoy! :)
*This is a time stamp for my series Life’s Lessons so it’ll make more sense if you’ve read that first, but I do think it can enjoyed as a sweet and smutty Valentine’s Day fic! ;)
Dividers by the wonderful @firefly-graphics
Dean stood at the kitchen bench and smirked as he stared down at the date on his phone. The coffee brewed in the machine behind him, as sunlight streamed in through the little picture window. It the most important date on the calendar that all couples go through, and he was excited.
It was February 14th. Valentine’s Day. The designated day you show the person you love most how much they mean to you. This time around was going to be the most special this little holiday had ever been for him, because this time around he had a woman who was truly, undoubtedly, his.
Y/N was the woman he had been waiting for and he couldn’t wait to make tonight a great night for both of them.
As he poured himself a cup of coffee and some for her in a travel mug, Y/N walked into the kitchen, dressed in a tight, high-waisted pastel pink skirt and white shirt, with a small white with pink polka dots scarf tied into a bow under the collar of the shirt. Her hair was in a high ponytail and she had her red glasses on. Dean felt his body heat up, knowing how much he enjoyed her fulfilling his teacher fantasy, so much so that whenever she got dressed for work, he always needed to calm himself down.
Y/N smiled at him as she walked over, kissing him softly as he slid a plate across the bench, some toast and a little bacon which he had already made, ready for her.
“Thank you,” she said, kissing him again before digging into her breakfast.
“No problem.” He smiled as he leaned against the bench, facing her. He continued to drink his coffee as she ate, both of them in content silence.
“I’ve got a half day today,” he informed her. “Ready to take you out tonight and tomorrow off, too.”
She smiled, unable to hide how excited she was for their night out. He was being incredibly secretive, and she was dying to know.
She ate quickly, washing up her plate once she was done. As she walked away from the sink, she laughed as Dean took her hand in his, pulling her against him. Whenever they had a few spare moments in the morning, this is how they spent it.
“So… what are you planning?” she asked, wrapping her arms around his neck as she looked up at him.
He smirked, shaking his head as his hands rested on her hips. “That’s for me to know and for you to find out later.”
She frowned, a small pout forming on her lips. “There’s no such thing as secrets on Valentine’s Day.”
She knew it wasn’t true, but she just wanted him to tell her what he was planning so that she could coordinate her lingerie accordingly.
“Babe, don’t start making crap up just because you’re curious.” He called her out, throwing his head with a boisterous laugh as she stared at him, wide-eyed and mouth hanging open in shock.
“Well, then I guess it’s just going to be you and your hand tonight,” she threw back, feigning upset.
“Hey,” he warned, staring down at her as he pulled her closer. “Do that and you won’t find out what I have planned.”
“Fine,” she sighed, as she rolled her eyes. Looking at him, the frown returned but with a playful glint in her eyes. “You’re really annoying, sometimes.”
“I know,” he shrugged with a grin. “But you love me.”
“Yeah,” she smiled, unable to pretend anymore. “Fortunately.”
“Very fortunately,” he said, leaning down to kiss her softly. He bent down further, kissing her neck which made her groan, sadly.
“I’m going to be late for work,” she said, pushing him away slightly.
He moved back down, attaching his mouth to her neck again. “I was about to give it to ya good and proper, sweetheart,” he mumbled against her skin, between kisses.
She laughed as she lightly pushed him again, kissing him softly on his pout. “You can do that tonight. A good, proper,” she kissed him again, “hard, rough,” another kiss, “fucking of a lifetime.”
He groaned, closing his eyes as he thought about what he had planned for them. She really had no idea what was going on and he was excited for her to find out.
“You’re so on, baby,” he muttered, before pulling her into a searing kiss.
She reluctantly pulled away from him, frowning. “I better go.”
“See you tonight,” he said, smirking at her.
“I can’t wait,” she smiled, leaning in and kissing him again.
Dean watched on as Y/N picked her bag and slung it over her shoulder, grabbing her keys in her hand. She slipped on her nude heels as she picked up her fawn coat, turning and blowing him a kiss before walking out the door. He smirked as he thought about what she just said, and how he could incorporate it into the night he had planned. After she had made his birthday one that he would never forget, he didn’t want to wait for so long until hers to do the same.
Luckily, the most romantic day of the year was upon them, and it was the perfect opportunity to make it a memorable night for both of them. He had never really believed in a day to celebrate love, considering he never had much luck with it in the past, but now he was thankful to whoever decided to profit from February 14th and made it a big deal.
Dean got ready for the day and headed to work. He was happy knowing there wasn’t much to do that day with his half day of work. He was relieved when Y/N had managed to take leave for the next day just like him, knowing that his plan would succeed. After the big restoration job that he had told her about months ago had been paid them in full by the customer, they were doing amazingly well at the garage. It had been a lot of money and there was more than enough to go around. Dean was able to pull out all the stops for the night. He couldn’t keep the smile off his face at work, getting questioning looks from Benny, Garth, some of the other guys and even Ellen. The guys teased him all day, but he paid no attention to it. If they had a woman as wonderful as he did, they’d have a huge smile on their face all day too.
Y/N smoothed down her maroon, velvet, off-shoulder, knee-length dress as she looked at herself in the mirror. She had contemplated the style for a long time in the store a few days ago, wondering if she should go for a brighter red or shorter, but this caught her eye straight away. She just hoped Dean would like it. She also hoped he would like her strapless bra and panties set, of the same dark colour. She kept her eye make-up simple but went with a slightly dark red shade for the lipstick, and gave her hair a slight wave, sweeping it over one shoulder. She gave herself a nod as she smiled at her complete look in the mirror.
Y/N heard the front door opening, signalling that Dean had arrived, even if he was a little early. With one last check in the mirror, she picked up the gift she had for him from her bed and walked out of her room, her black heels clacking on the wooden floors. As soon as she saw him, her heart skipped a beat. He wore black dress pants and loafers, with a maroon sweater. He looked so unbelievably gorgeous that she just had to stand there for a few more seconds to appreciate him. He had his hands behind his back, and she knew it had to be something for Valentine’s Day.
“Who clued you in on maroon?” she laughed as she approached him.
“I… may have snuck a peek in the bag when you brought it home,” he replied, smirking as he took her in. She looked incredible and he was going to have a hard time keeping things PG for the first part of the night. “You look amazing.”
“Not so bad yourself, handsome,” she whispered against his lips as she leaned in and kissed him, softly. “This is very couple-y of us, though” she joked.
He shrugged, laughing. “It’s Valentine’s, baby.”
With that, he brought his arms forward, showing her the bouquet of lilies (she wasn’t a fan of roses; too overrated) and the heart-shaped box, no doubt filled with little chocolates.
“Be my Valentine?” he asked, chuckling.
She shook her head, laughing at his goofiness. “Of course.” She took the items from him and handing him his.
He smiled as he took it, quickly unwrapping the red wrapping around the small box. Opening it, he lifted the coffee mug out, smirking at the design. It was him and Y/N in animated form, with her leaning in to kiss his cheek, a little heart above their heads.
“That’s cute,” he said, smiling at her.
“It’s not too cheesy, is it? We said things that didn’t cost much, and this was relatively inexpensive. All I had to do was give the artist a picture of us, and she did the rest,” she explained, wondering if he really did like it and wasn’t just making her feel better.
“No, it’s not. I love it, really,” he reassured her.
She leaned in, happily letting him cup her face in his hands and pull her into a steamy kiss. It was over quicker than she would’ve liked, but as she looked into his eyes, she noticed a spark that wasn’t there before.
“Okay… put those in water and then pack a bag. Just essentials, clothes for tomorrow, that’s it” he instructed, rubbing his hands together.
She frowned, blinking a few times as she made sure she heard him right. “What?”
“Part of the surprise,” he said, not giving her anything else as he gestured to his watch.
“Okay…” she huffed as she snapped out of her trance, her mind reeling as she tried to figure out where he was taking her.
After putting the lilies in a small vase with water, Y/N went into her room and quickly packed a bag. Just her skincare and clothes for the next day were all she needed. She really had no idea what Dean was doing or where he was taking her, but she was now even more restless to find out.
Walking back into the living area, she saw Dean waiting by the door. He smirked as he reached for her bag, dragging it out for her as she picked up her purse and put on her black coat, locking the door behind her. Dean put her case in the trunk and then proceeded to open the passenger door for her. She snuck a quick kiss before she sat, putting her purse in her lap. Dean was on the driver’s side in a flash, quickly taking his seat and starting the engine.
“So… still no hint?” she asked, smiling through her impatience.
“Nope,” he replied, popping the ‘p’.
“Fine,” she sighed, sitting back in her seat properly as Dean pulled away from the curb.
She decided to stop asking. He always said he wasn’t great with romantic gestures but that he was trying with her, and she really appreciated that about him. He was expanding his comfort zone even though he didn’t have to. He wanted to.
They asked each other about their days as Dean drove towards the city. The anticipation for their night was overwhelming, and he was glad that Y/N kept talking. No doubt distracting herself just as much as him. As they reached their destination, he saw her eyes light up as he parked the car outside the restaurant, their first stop.
“Dean!” she exclaimed as she turned to him. “This is already too much! More than what we agreed on!”
He smirked, knowing that the fancy Italian place was one that she had wanting to go to for a while. It was definitely pricey, but his latest customer was making tonight possible. He really had to find a way to thank the guy.
“Not tonight it’s not.” He winked at her as he opened his door and got out of the car, a squeak coming from the hinges as he shut it.
He walked around the front and to her side, opening the door for her. Y/N couldn’t believe her eyes as she stood up and looked at the building, suddenly launching herself into Dean.
“I’ve told you before; I don’t need all of this to make me happy. You know that, right?” she asked, frowning slightly. She was worried that he may feel like he needed to do this just to make things special.
“Yeah, I do, sweetheart,” he replied, as he pulled back slightly from their embrace to look at her. “But if I can afford it, then why the hell not?”
“And you’re sure you can?” she asked, a frown still etched on her face.
Dean chuckled, shaking his head. “Yes! Y/N, we wouldn’t be here if I couldn’t. We did fucking great because of that big restoration job. Trust me.”
He had to wonder how she would react for the next part of the surprise if she was already shocked by the restaurant. Hopefully once he reassured her it was fine, and that he wasn’t doing this when he couldn’t afford it, she would relax.
“Okay.” A small smile tugged at the corners of her mouth before it grew.
Dean smiled wide as he saw her face light up. He held out his hand for her, ready to start their night. “Let’s go.”
Y/N took Dean’s hand instantly, linking their fingers together as they walked to the entrance of the Italian restaurant. As they made their way in and Dean gave them his name, they were immediately led to a table in the back, away from most of the chatter of patrons. Dean helped Y/N with her coat, draping it over the back of her chair, doing the same with his. She smiled as she sat down across from him, causing him to smile back. His eyes wandered up and down as he looked at her, taking in her beauty. She always looked stunning, no matter whether it was casual or a bit dressier.
A waiter brought over the wine list, which Dean discreetly handed over to Y/N considering that wasn’t something he knew anything about. She gave him a wink as she looked over several pages before deciding. Dinner was far more delicious than either of them were expecting, so between the great wine and even better food, Dean was very happy he brought her here.
Once dinner was cleared, and the chocolate cake they ordered to share for dessert arrived (after he lamented that there was no pie), Dean let her dig in first as he folded his arms on the table, watching her. He smirked as she stabbed a piece with the fork and held it out to him. He winked at her as he took the bite, seeing her visibly shiver. He chuckled to himself as he chewed, watching her drop her head and focus on the cake.
“Stop,” she laughed, trying to avoid his intense gaze. He was trying to kill her; she knew he was.
“Can’t,” he said, joining in with her laughter.
They both continued to devour the cake until there wasn’t even a crumb left, both sitting back as the waiter cleared the plate and glasses.
After paying, Dean took Y/N’s hand in his and left the restaurant. Their walk down the street turned into a relaxed stroll, enjoying the glow of the city lights despite the cold weather of February. As they continued towards the car, a group of street musicians was playing, also not bothered by the chill in the air. As they continued to play, Dean slowly spun Y/N around, causing her to laugh in surprise at his sudden gesture. His hands slipped down to her waist and pulled her close as he began to sway them to the music, looking into her eyes. She wrapped her arms around his neck, refusing to break her gaze away from him. The slow melody of the familiar song caused them to get lost in each other, blocking out the noise of the street and cars rushing by.
In his arms, Y/N felt safe. She felt as if nothing bad could happen to her, ever again. She felt like Dean would always be there to hold her up and never let her fall. He would never hurt her, knowing her past and making sure she never felt that way ever again. She thanked all forms of a higher power every day for bringing this man into her life.
In her arms, Dean had never felt more loved. With her, he had everything he ever wanted in life. Love, comfort, passion – feeling wanted. Someone who would never make him feel any less than he was. He knew how lucky he was to have her.
Dean leaned down and pressed his lips to hers, the kiss becoming deeper and more passionate as he pulled her a little closer. Y/N’s hands combed into his hair at the back of his head as she kissed him. After a moment, Dean pulled away from her caress, his breathing slightly heavier.
“Come on,” he grinned, moving away from her and taking her hand in his again, leading her down the street.
As he drove, Dean’s mind kept swimming with possibilities of what would happen next. He looked over at Y/N, smiling at her as she gazed up at the city lights from the window, completely oblivious to the thoughts that were going through his head. He watched as she frowned, the destination now right in front of them. She looked up at the sign, gasping loudly. He had brought them to one of the best hotels in the city and her heart began to beat just a little faster.
“Oh my god!” she yelled, looking at him as he pulled into the valet parking of the hotel. He got out and walked over to the trunk, taking out her small suitcase and pulling it for her, as she got out of the car.
Y/N stood in shock as she watched him warn the valet about the car, and then hand over the keys. As the Impala rolled away towards the main parking, she looked at Dean and shook her head as she walked over to him.
“Dean, this is-” she started but he stopped her as he took her hand and tugged on it, softly.
“Save it for upstairs, sweetheart.” He smirked as he brought her hand to his lips, placing a soft kiss on her knuckles.
They walked towards the entrance, a doorman opening the glass door for them.
“Where’s your stuff?” she asked, as she suddenly noticed he lacked an over-night bag.
“I checked us in during the day after work, before I picked you up,” he replied, as he walked them through the huge lobby and towards the elevators.
Y/N marvelled as she looked around. Her stomach flipped as she couldn’t believe she was in such a swanky place.
The elevator arrived; announced by a soft ding as the doors opened. Dean stepped in with Y/N by his side, pressing the button for their floor. Y/N looked over at him, unable to contain her smile as the elevator moved up the floors. Dean leaned over, cupping her face in his hands and kissing her, passionately. She hummed as she grabbed the lapels of his black coat, pulling him closer. They broke away from each other, however, when the elevator stopped, letting in another couple. They were slightly older and both of them grimaced as they witnessed the young couple with their lips locked. It was the clichéd scene you would see in every rom-com or steamy romance, but neither of them cared.
Once they reached their floor, they left the elevator and walked down the hallway. Dean walked a little ahead of Y/N, wheeling her suitcase behind him. He reached their room, taking out the room card and sliding it in, the beep and green light signalling he could open the door. Y/N walked in, as he held it for her and quickly slipped the ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign onto the handle, closing the door behind her.
If Y/N was smiling before, then she was practically beaming as she walked further into the room. The big window overlooked the gardens outside, and the room held a chic armchair with Dean’s brown leather duffle sitting on it, a round ottoman in front the armchair, a large bed with crisp white sheets, big pillows and royal blue cushions. Rose petals were scattered over the sheets with a tray that held little chocolates, an ice bucket with a bottle of Champagne and two champagne glasses on it, at the centre of the bed.
Y/N’s felt Dean’s arms wrap around her waist as he stood behind her, pulling her close to his body. She sighed contently, leaning her head against his chest.
“I know you’re not a fan of roses, but this is all they had,” he informed her, softly in her ear.
She shook her head, turning around to face him and instantly wrapping her arms around his neck. “It’s perfect. I love it so much.”
“Yeah?” he asked, a small smile on his face.
“Yes,” she sighed, smiling up at him. “I love you so much, Dean Winchester. Thank you for tonight. Thank you for loving me.”
“Well, you make it real easy, sweetheart,” he said, smirking.
“You make it easy to love you, too,” she whispered against his lips, and kissed him once, twice.
“So… champagne?” he asked, grinning.
“Yes,” she replied, without missing a beat.
Dean moved away from her, shrugging off his coat and draping it over the armchair. Y/N took off her coat and hung it up in the closet, taking a chance to look around the room. She wandered into the bathroom, biting her lip to keep from grinning as she saw the bathtub filled with water and rose petals along the surface. She fully intended to make use of it later. The bathroom also had another ice bucket and champagne with glasses kept near the tub, along with some chocolate covered strawberries, making her shiver at the possibilities of what could happen.
Y/N walked back out to the main part of the room, watching Dean open the wrapping from the top of the champagne bottle. He held the bottle carefully as he twisted the cork, letting out a “son of a bitch!” when it popped loudly. He poured some in each glass and handed her one as he took the other, his other hand slipping into hers. They looked into each other’s eyes as they clinked their glasses together.
“Happy Valentine’s Day, Y/N,” he said, smirking.
“Happy Valentine’s Day, Dean,” she sighed, her eyes sparkling with love as she looked at him.
As they both took a few sips, it was clear that no matter how great the champagne was, that wasn’t where their focus was at that moment. As Dean looked at Y/N, he knew he couldn’t waste another minute not touching her. In one big gulp, he downed the champagne and placed the glass on the tray. He moved it off the bed and placed it on the ottoman, turning back to her to see she had emptied her glass as well. She walked over to the ottoman slowly, the swing in her hips seductive and teasing him. As she bent down to put the glass on the tray, the curve of her ass looked glorious in her tight dress, leaving him powerless to resist.
Dean walked up behind Y/N, his hands slowly moving over the curve, feeling the soft velvet of her dress. He moved them up to her hips, swiftly pulling them back to meet his. Y/N bit her lip as she pressed her back to his chest, feeling his cock begin to stir through the fabric of his pants.
“You have no idea what I’m gonna do to you,” he whispered in her ear and placed a small kiss behind it.
She shivered as she felt his hands move up her body, lightly grazing over her breasts before moving back down to her hips. She took his hands and moved them up again, cupping her breasts and causing a soft moan to leave her lips. She smiled mischievously as she began to grind her hips back into his, feeling him become more aroused. Dean had instant flashes back to their first date, the night she did exactly the same thing on her front porch.
He suddenly flicked her hands off his and moved them down, grasping her hips and halting them. “You think you can do that again, sweetheart… you’re wrong.”
“Dean,” she whined, her frustration getting the better of her. She squeezed her thighs together, feeling herself getting wet between her legs already.
“Tonight, is all about you,” he told her as his hands moved to the back of her dress. He grasped the zip, pulling it down at a teasing pace. “Tonight… you’re all mine.”
A whimper left her lips as the dress opened in the back, and Dean’s pace suddenly changed. He roughly pulled at the dress, shoving it down her body and letting it fall to pool around her feet.
Turning them around, Dean faced Y/N towards the large mirror on the wall. He admired her dark red, lacy push-up bra, matching lace panties and black thigh-high stockings, as his hands roamed her soft skin. Their eyes met in the mirror, causing Dean to smirk at her and give her a wink. His right hand travelled down her body and over the lace of her panties, his fingers lightly teasing over her skin and the seam of the fabric. Her breath hitched in her throat as her left hand moved forward, trying to reach for his. She gasped as he roughly grabbed it and held it down by her hip, wrapping his fingers around her wrist to keep from moving.
“Only I get to touch you, Y/N,” he said, not breaking eye contact with her in the mirror. His hand moved down between her legs, his fingers rubbing along the lace and feeling her wetness through the material. She moaned, pressing her lips together to keep herself quiet.
“Already so wet for me,” he groaned, continuing to move his fingers in a moderate pace. “But… I want you practically dripping.”
Y/N moaned wantonly as Dean removed his hand and made quick work of taking off her panties, bending down behind her as they slid down to her feet. He helped her step out of each heel and her panties, smirking as an idea came to him once the fabric was in his hand. He quickly slipped them into his pants pocket as he took her hand and guided her towards the bed. Staring into his eyes, she saw them darken even more as he lifted his hands to her shoulders and pushed her, a squeal leaving her as her back hit the bed. The scattered rose petals bounced around, breaking the even pattern, as she moved up slightly on the bed and pushed herself up on her elbows to look at him.
Y/N smiled as she bit her lip, her eyes never leaving him as he lifted up his sweater and pulled his arms through, throwing it on the floor. He did the same with the white t-shirt he wore underneath as he moved closer to the bed. She reached over and hooked her fingers into the top of his pants, desperate to feel him against her. Before she could start working on the belt, he grabbed her hand with a firm grip.
“What did I say about touching, sweetheart?” he asked, his voice rough and authoritative.
A shiver ran down her spine as she looked up at him, unable to speak. His eyes were dark, and his face was unreadable, a commanding air around him. He was dominating in bed but never quite like this, and that had her excited to see what he would do.
Dean’s jaw clenched as he looked down at her, unbuckling his belt and sliding it through the loops. He gathered it in his hand and waved it at her. “One more time and I’ll have to use this.”
She nodded, still too stunned at his demeanour to speak. She breathed heavily as the anticipation got to her, wondering what his next move would be.
Dean placed the belt on the bed, close enough to reach for it when he needed. He quickly rid himself of his shoes and the rest of his clothes, pulling down his pants along with his boxers, dropping them on the edge of the bed. His cock twitched, hard and leaking pre-cum which she desperately wanted a taste of. He knelt on the bed, swiftly picking up both of Y/N’s legs and holding them up. He made quick work of taking off her stockings, rolling them down her legs and pulling them off, before leaning down and kissing her, roughly. She moaned into his mouth as she fisted the sheets in her hands, knowing she couldn’t touch him or herself. Dean continued to roughly kiss her as he reached under her and unclasped her bra, pulling it away from her body and flinging it across the room without looking.
Dean made a rough path of kisses down Y/N’s jaw and neck, reaching her breasts. He took a nipple into his mouth, flicking his tongue over the nub and pinched the other between his fingers. She moaned, throwing her head back, incredibly desperate to lift her hands and place them on his head to bring him closer. He continued his path down her body, finally reaching between her legs. She looked down to see him wink at her, his tongue slowly flicking out as it grazed her sex.
“Dean” she whimpered as she tried to move closer to his mouth.
Before she could say anything else, his head dipped down, his mouth covering her folds completely. His hands grabbed her legs and threw them over his shoulders roughly, causing a shocked huff to leave her lips.
“Oh my god,” she gasped loudly, her fingers clenching the sheets. “D-Dean, yes.”
His tongue moved over her clit in tight circles as his fingers dug into the flesh of her thighs, pulling her even closer. He moved his tongue up and down her folds, her juices coating his mouth as he moaned at the taste of her. She choked out a whimper at the vibration that ran through her as she looked down at him, their eyes meeting.
Pulling away slightly, he looked at her as he sucked at her clit. “Taste so fucking good, sweetheart.”
“Dean, please,” she begged, looking into his eyes. “Please, more.”
“Patience, Y/N,” he playfully scolded, smirking at her.
He continued to lap at her folds, the sounds of his moans and her wetness getting to her. She needed to touch him, but if she did, he’d restrain her. She wanted nothing more than to risk it and tug on his hair like she loved doing, but she couldn’t. He smirked against her as he continued his ministrations, lifting his right hand and inserting a finger into her wet canal.
“Shit, yes” she cried loudly, unable to stay quiet despite being in a hotel room.
“You like that, gorgeous?” he asked as he pulled away briefly, inserting another finger. He thrusted them in and out, his pace quick as she became wetter.
“Yes,” she gasped, nodding frantically. “Yes, I-I love it.”
He gave her a cocky chuckle as he took her swollen nub in his mouth again, his eyes never leaving her. He continued to thrust his fingers inside of her, his tongue licking at the bundle of nerves. He watched as her hands left the sheets and cupped over her mouth, her moans muffled under them.
Dean kissed and sucked at her clit, his fingers sliding in and out of her as he moved them along her walls quickly. Y/N’s hands barely covered her mouth, her moans loud as she couldn’t control herself anymore. He reached for his pants and quickly took her panties out of the pocket, knowing that if she got louder, she would need them.
“Open up, sweetheart,” he said as he placed the lace near her lips.
Y/N opened her mouth and let him slowly work the material in.
“Good girl,” he groaned as he looked down at her. His cock throbbed at the sight of her mouth stuffed with her dark red panties. He continued to work his fingers into her, picking up the pace. Her moans came out stifled around the fabric in her mouth, as she urgently grabbed at the sheets again.
Dean worked his fingers into Y/N, his pace getting quicker as they began to hit her g-spot with precision. He lifted her leg onto his shoulder as he sat up on his knees, his fingers never slowing. Y/N got louder despite her panties acting as a gag, her eyes shut tightly as she let out a string of muffled moans. He could feel her getting wetter with every passing second.
“You look so fucking beautiful like this, sweetheart. All spread out for me, desperate to cum,” he grunted as he worked his fingers at a faster speed. “You wanna cum, don’t you?”
She nodded wildly, too scared to open her eyes and look at him. She could feel something building inside of her, the coil in her stomach tighter than it ever had been, as if it was holding something at bay. She could hear how wet she was as he worked the digits inside her at a frantic speed, the squelching noises louder than her moans.
“You’re gonna be a good girl and cum for me, aren’t you?” he asked, his voice low and husky.
She cried out around the fabric in her mouth, the only way she could communicate at that point. Hearing him call her that always drove her crazy. He felt his fingers getting wetter, knowing she was closer than ever.
“Oh fuck,” he groaned; his fingers moving so quickly he could barely see them. “Fuck, cum for me, sweetheart. Fucking soak my fingers.”
Y/N threw her head back, her neck straining as she let out a stifled scream of his name around the material of her panties. One of her hands left the sheets as it latched onto his arm around her leg, needing to hold on. The damn within her broke, Dean pulling his fingers out as jets of liquid spurted out of her, drenching his hand. The vision behind her closed lids turned white, as a wave of the purest release she had ever felt washed over her. Her body shook as he held her, making sure she didn’t hurt herself. Her muffled scream turned into whimpers as she continued to come down from her high. She had never felt this way before as she continued to shake, unable to stop the waves of pleasure coursing through her.
Dean bit his lip, watching as Y/N slowly began to come down from the peak he took her to. That was a surprise, even for him. He didn’t know she was capable of that, but he was a little proud that he was the one to make it happen. Her eyes fluttered open, adjusting to the dim light in the room. She rolled her head to the side, looking up at him as her chest heaved, her breathing erratic. He leaned forward, taking her panties out of her mouth, a harsh sigh leaving her.
“Oh my god,” she exhaled, still trying to catch her breath.
“It’s actually Dean,” he joked, a wide grin on his face.
She lazily lifted her hand and tried to hit him but couldn’t even manage that.
“You…” she trailed off, shaking her head as she still couldn’t believe what just happened. “You made me squirt.”
“Sure did.” He nodded as he looked down at her, the smirk not leaving his face. “That was awesome,” he stated.
“It was.” She hummed as she smiled up him. That was first time anyone had managed to do that, and she was happy that her first experience of that was with someone who loved her so much. Someone who wanted to bring her pleasure before himself. His pleasure came from hers. She had never been with someone who cared like that.
“Shit,” she sighed, closing her eyes. Her whole body felt like it was buzzing. “I’ve never… done that before.”
“That was so fucking hot, sweetheart,” he declared, smirking as he looked down at his lower body and his hand, both wet from her unexpected release.
She stared up at him as she bit her lip. The fact that he found it hot had aroused her even more. The fact that he was so completely turned on by her and her body, gave her a confidence in herself that she never had before.
“You’re definitely trying that again, sometime soon,” she laughed, winking at him.
“Oh, we’re just getting started,” he stated, putting her leg down.
“Really?” she asked, amused by his eagerness.
“Yep,” he replied, popping the ‘p’. “Oh and Y/N…” he trailed off, gesturing to his arm that had been wrapped around her leg.
Y/N looked down and cursed inwardly, seeing her hand wrapped around his wrist. However, a small smile spread across her lips as she looked at him, trying to act innocent. “Oops…”
Before any more words could leave Y/N’s lips, Dean tugged on her hand and flipped her over, pushing her down on her stomach. He groaned as he looked at her ass, running his hand along her skin, grasping it in his hand. He picked up the belt, folded it and held it tight in his hands. Lifting it, he twisted his wrist and flicked the loop lightly across her right cheek, gaging her reaction. She moaned as her head dropped forward onto the bed, her hips wriggling, taunting him. He couldn’t see her face, but he was certain she was wearing the little mischievous smile of hers that he loved so much.
“Harder,” she told him, her voice firm. No hesitation.
That was the only confirmation Dean needed. He lifted his hand again, bringing the belt down on the same area, slightly harder than before.
“Fuck,” she moaned, humming at the slight sting.
Dean leaned down, placing a kiss and small nip on the cheek. “Love this ass.”
Dean held Y/N’s hands together and wrapped the belt around her wrists, making sure it was tight enough so that she couldn’t get out of the binds. He buckled it, tugging on it a couple of times to test it. She whimpered softly as she laid the side of her face on the bed, excitement coursing through her. She felt him grasp her hips and pull her up onto her knees, her bound hands on her back. That feeling of thrill rose within her as she sensed him move behind her.
Dean stroked his cock as he lined himself up to her entrance, Y/N’s hips levelled with his. He entered her swiftly, a strangled moan leaving his lips as he felt how wet she was, his cock easily sliding all the way into her. A choked cry left her as she tried to move her hips back, but he grabbed them in his hands to stop her from moving. He slid out and back in, then quickly began to thrust in and out of her at a fast pace.
“So fucking tight and wet, sweetheart,” he groaned as one hand came up to hold onto her bound hands. “So perfect… like you were made for me.”
With each thrust, she moaned louder and louder. Dean wondered whether he should gag her again, but quickly thought against it. Everyone else in the hotel be damned. He needed to hear his girl.
“How does that feel, Y/N?” he asked, as his hand on her hip grabbed her flesh tight, his thrusts relentless.
“So fucking good,” she moaned loudly, her mind delirious with pleasure. “Your big cock feels so good inside me, Dean.”
“I’m the only one who can make you feel this.” He let out a grunt, feeling her walls clench around his cock with each thrust. “Tell me.”
“Oh fuck” she gasped, unable to think clearly. “Y-You-”
Suddenly, a hard, resounding spank landed on her right cheek causing her to jerk forward as she yelped in surprise.
“Tell me, sweetheart,” he growled, his grip tightening on her bound hands.
She huffed a small laugh, completely overwhelmed by what she was feeling. He was hitting that sweet spot inside her so perfectly with every thrust. His words had her spiralling by the second, and his grip on her, both mentally and physically, had left her completely at his mercy. It was an experience unlike any other; one that she had expressed she wanted just that morning, but she had no idea the delivery would exceed her expectations.
“You’re the only one who can make me feel like this,” she moaned, loud and shameless. If someone else in the hotel was getting railed as thoroughly as she was, they’d be shameless about it too. “The only one who can make me this good… so fucking good, so full.”
She struggled against the belt around her hands, the leather digging into her skin in a delicious sting. Her legs felt weak and limp under her, quivering as she could feel herself quickly losing resolve.
“Fuck, Y/N.” His undulating hips picked up speed, as he grasped hers tightly.
Her walls continued to clench around him, signalling she was close. The only other sounds that could be heard apart from their moans and groans were the smacking of skin as their hips met, and wet, squelching sounds of her sex as he continued to pound into her.
“De… fuck, I-I I’m close,” she cried out, lifting her head to try and look back at him. The same feeling that she had felt before had returned, as if she was holding something back. “I-I think-” she shook her head, unable to speak.
Dean’s hips started to falter, his release fast approaching. “Cum with me, Y/N.”
“I-I-I’m,” she stuttered. She felt lightheaded, overstimulated and overcome by the pleasure coursing through her.
“It’s okay, Y/N,” he reassured her, his left hand leaving her hip and moving down between her legs. He rubbed her clit in tight circles, bringing her closer to her release. “Let go for me, sweetheart… soak my cock like you soaked my fingers.”
“Oh god… Fuck! Dean!” she screamed.
All concern for the people in the other rooms went out the window as they both reached the peak of ecstasy.
Y/N’s whole body convulsed as Dean let out a roaring moan, quickly pulling out as her release gushed out of her, drenching his cock as his cum spurted over her folds. Her legs gave out as she fell forward and flattened out on the bed as she tried to catch her breath. His chest heaved as he leaned forward, carefully unbuckling the belt around her hands, releasing her from the restraint. Her arms moved up the bed weakly, one hand cupping over her eyes as she began to chuckle. He looked down at her with a quirked eyebrow, confused as to why she was laughing.
“Y/N?” he called her name, getting no response.
She descended into a fit of laughter, slowly turning onto her back as she cupped both hands over her eyes.
“Sweetheart, what’s going on?” he asked, his mouth lifting up slightly into a smirk. He was amused by her reaction.
“That was… that was amazing,” she said through laughs. “I just… I can’t believe you did that. Not just once but twice!”
Y/N continued to laugh, causing Dean to join in as he leaned down and gave her a kiss. She lifted her shaky hands and cupped his face, kissing him deeply and moaning at the taste of herself that still lingered on his tongue. Pulling away, his legs almost faltered as he got up from the bed, but he held himself steady as he moved towards the bathroom. He wet a washcloth and then walked back out to the bed. He cleaned between her legs, the warm cloth ridding her of his release and her own. As he did, he was relieved to see they hadn’t ruined the sheets from both of their orgasms, his lower body taking the impact of hers. He cleaned himself off and got up again, discarding the cloth under the sink of the bathroom.
As he walked back out, he spotted the ice bucket and quickly swiped a cube out before he laid down next to her, both of them on their sides. Picking up her right hand, he smoothed the ice over the angry, red lines across her wrist. She hissed slightly at the chill on the heat of her skin but sighed as it cooled the sting. He looked at her as he did, smiling softly when her gaze lifted up to meet his.
“I… that wasn’t too much, was it?” he asked, his voice low and calming, but slightly nervous. He hoped that he hadn’t gone overboard.
She smiled, shaking her head. “No. It was perfect.”
She leaned forward, kissing him deeply. She sighed into the kiss, feeling more content than she ever had in her life. The feeling of being safe with him had been there throughout, and she loved him even more for being able to make her feel that way as he dominated her.
“You sure?” He needed to be certain. “I just gotta-”
She cut him off with another kiss, before pulling back to look at him. “Yes, I’m absolutely sure. It was everything I wanted. A good, proper, hard, rough… fucking of a lifetime.”
He smirked, satisfied with her sincere answer and leaned forward, kissing her once, twice which led to them giving each other small kisses on every bit of skin they got reach. Dean gave her other wrist the same attention, before the cube could melt into his hand.
“Now I can’t wait for you to fulfill another fantasy” she smiled, a naughty glint in her eyes.
“Yeah?” he grinned, wagging his eyebrows at her. “What is it?”
She hummed as she moved forward, pressing her body into his as she wrapped her arms around his neck. “Maybe I want a certain mechanic to tell me there are other ways of payment when I can’t afford for him to fix my car.”
He groaned as his eyes shut tightly, feeling his cock begin to stir again. “Fuck, sweetheart. I can’t wait for that either.”
He leaned in, kissing her passionately. His hands smoothed down her back and softly soothed the sting on her ass from the brief belt treatment and spanking she got.
“Bath?” he asked, tenderly as he pulled away from her lips and nuzzled his nose against hers.
She nodded with a small smile on her lips, feeling the mattress dip as he got up first.
Dean offered his hand to Y/N which she took instantly, allowing him to lift her up from the bed. Her legs shook as she stood, still weak from the amazing sex they just had. Suddenly, he leaned down and placed his arm under her legs, the other around her and lifted her up, a little laugh leaving her as she wrapped her arms around his neck. As he walked past the ottoman, she reached down and grabbed the champagne bottle from the ice bucket and the glasses, placing them in her lap and holding the bottle so it didn’t fall. They looked into each other’s eyes as he carried her into the bathroom and over to the tub.
Y/N slowly dipped her toe in, sighing in relief when it wasn’t searing hot. She held the bottle and glasses as Dean slowly placed her in the water, the petals dispersing once she was in. She took out the other bottle of champagne from the ice bucket in the bathroom and put the open one in, after she poured a generous amount into each glass. Leaning forward, she smiled as he got into the tub and rested against it, allowing her to lay back against his chest. Clinking their glasses together, she took a sip and sighed as she made herself comfortable against him.
“I’m half expecting someone to come knocking on the door about the noise,” she told him, laughing.
He shook his head, chuckling. “Nah, no one’s coming up here to warn us on Valentine’s Day.”
“I sure hope so,” she said, taking another sip of champagne.
“I did put the “Do Not Disturb” on the door on the way in, though,” he grinned, leaning down and kissing her cheek. “Just in case.”
“Always prepared,” she joked, turning her head up to look at him.
“You know it, baby.” He smirked as he leaned down, kissing her softly.
“Thank you so much for tonight,” she whispered against his lips as he pulled away from the kiss. “It was perfect.”
“No problem, sweetheart,” he whispered back, pressing his lips to hers again. The kiss deepened, causing a small moan to leave her as she reached up and ran her hand through his hair at the back of head.
She pulled back, slightly out of the breath as she bit her lip, looking into his eyes. “I don’t think I can manage it tonight, but you can expect me to ride you into oblivion tomorrow as a thank you.”
His eyes widened as he nearly choked from the shock of her statement. He shook his head as he looked at her, wondering once again how she could be so innocent one minute and turn into a vixen the next.
“You better not threaten me with a good time and then not deliver, Y/N,” he warned her, a small smirk playing at his lips.
She shook her head, her gaze flicking between his and his lips. “It’s a promise which I absolutely intend to keep.”
“Shit,” he hissed, putting his glass on the ledge behind him. “Thank fuck I got a late check-out.”
He took hers and did the same and then moved his hands under the water, turning her around so that she was facing him and straddling his lap. She wrapped her arms around his neck, her breasts pressed into his chest as she leaned in and kissed him, passionately. She pulled away after a few moments, looking into his eyes.
Y/N reached over to pick up a chocolate covered strawberry on the tray behind Dean and held it to his lips. Smiling at him as his plump lips closed around the fruit and bit into it, the juice ran down his chin as he moved his head back, trying to get the bite completely into his mouth. The fire that burned for him within her, that never extinguished, flickered at the sight of his beautiful, sinful mouth slightly stained by the sweet. She leaned in, kissing and licking the remnants of strawberry and chocolate from his lips. As he looked at her, he felt that feeling of being the luckiest guy on Earth wash over him again.
“I love you,” she whispered, a big smile spreading across her face.
“I love you, too,” he whispered back, his smile as big as hers as he pulled her back into their impassioned embrace.
They stayed that way until the water turned cold, and Dean carried Y/N back to the bed. They fell asleep in each other’s arms, their slumber peaceful as they both knew they were in the arms of the person who loved them unconditionally.
The next morning, Y/N kept her promise. Once they came up for air, they enjoyed a wonderful breakfast at the hotel before they finally made their way back home.
The rest of their day continued the way it began, locked in each other’s loving arms…
With promises made that they absolutely intended to keep.
-x-
Tags: @deanwanddamons @winchest09 @downanddirtydean @jensengirl83 @wonder-cole @that-one-gay-girl @flamencodiva @ellewritesfix05 @roonyxx @akshi8278 @hobby27 @michellethetvaddict @spngirl05 @kyjey @halesandy @440mxs-wife @stoneyggirl @deanswaywardgirl @redbarn1995 @marianita195 @babypink224221 @deans-baby-momma @parinarain @thoughts-and-funnies @mandalou29 @jerkbitchidjitassbutt @supraveng @supernatural-love14 @vicmc624 @prettyboyswow @lunarmoon8 @supernatural-bellawinchester
#spnkinkbingo#Life's Lessons Saga#Life's Lessons Time stamps#Valentine's Day#Dean x Female!Reader#Dean x Female!Reader Series#Dean x Female!Reader Fanfiction#Female!Reader Insert#Mechanic!Dean#Teacher!Reader#Dean x Reader Fanfiction#Dean Winchester Smut#Dean Winchester Series#Dean Winchester Fanfiction#Dean Winchester Fanfic#Supernatural Fanfiction
292 notes
·
View notes
Text
Ranking all the Monster High Abbey Bominable dolls!
i was feeling bored so thought i'd rank them all !! (everything past #1 under the cut!)
1. Wave 2
I feel like this is quite obvious, seeing as this is her basic doll, but still. I REALLY wish i had this one, i think they needed to incorporate more white into the clothes of her dolls, makes her look much more icy.
2. Ghouls Rule
I really like this line in general, lots of detailed designs, but this doll SPECIFICALLY is just so pretty imo. The snowflakes on her dress!!! I actually plan on buying her eventually on ebay.
3. Music Festival
While this one is much much more basic than the last 2, i just find her very nice. Probably one of the few colorful Abbey dolls i like.
4. I Love Fashion
This one is so simple, but i think it really works somehow? The dress is super cute and so are her boots. And the additional outfits are really nice, I like the shirt and pants a lot.
5. Picture Day
I actually own this doll!! so in that way i'm probably quite biased. Nevertheless, she's really well made. I was able to buy her off ebay in the box, but this was years ago, and i took her out of it.... I was so stupid back then.
6. Dead Tired
I love all of the dead tired line, honestly, its one of my favorites. Theyre very simple dolls... and yet they're just so cute!! They're little slippers are one of my favorite details. The tiny little ice cream too oh my god.
7. Dot Dead Gorgeous
This one actually comes in a 3-pack set with draculaura and ghoulia, and honestly all three are very nice. Abbey in particular though looks so good! Again, i really like it when they'd put more light colors on her dolls.
8. 13 Wishes
Honestly, if her dress was white, she would be way higher. So well made though!! I love the curly hair and gold accents.
9. Art Class
While this doll is very simple, i find that it actually manages to really work. I enjoy that pink is an accent color rather than a main one, and that theres something fluffy on her outfit! (one of my favorite details about her dolls)
10. Classroom
And this is where things start getting a bit less nice. While i think this doll is pretty, she's just missing something, not quite as complex in design as she has the potential to be. On the plus side, however, her hair is really cute!
11. Skull Shores
I don't have much commentary for this one, other than theres a bit too much purple. She could do with another hat, but the base-doll is beautiful (as always).
12. Scaris: City of Frights
Although she’s quite low on the list, I actually really like this doll. While Scaris isn’t exactly the most complicated line out there, I find that she makes quite a nice basic doll.
13. Skultimate Roller Maze
Honestly, nothing against this doll... she's honestly quite nice, but, overall... very in-cohesive color wise. I mean, green...? Roller Skates cool as hell though.
14. Geek Shriek
All I really have to say about this doll is that I basically like none of this line. the glasses are just a bit cheesy imo, and i wish the outfits were more than these simple dresses.
15. Coffin Bean
Cute face and hair, but so boring otherwise. Hasn’t she had these same style of shoes like 2 times already? I’m pretty sure the only cute coffin bean dolls were clawdeen and draculaura.
16. Sweet Screams
Ugh.... I feel bad for putting such a complex doll so low on this list, but god everything about her is just too much. She’s got that same ugly over saturated color palette as the reboot dolls, despite being made in 2014. maybe i’ll change my mind, but right now all i have to say is that black, deep purple, and bright teal is not a very nice color combo when overdone.
17. Party Ghouls
As with most fans of Monster High, I’m not a huge fan of the reboot. Thankfully though, all of the reboot Abbey dolls are fully articulated! While I don’t really like this particular doll, i must give credit for giving her actual fuzzy material on that dress.
18. Welcome to Monster High
This design is not my taste. Cheesy outfit and cheap plastic fur + those huge eyes don’t make for something all that desirable.
19. 2017 Collector Doll
And finally, we reach the end. This whole outfit + accessories are so garish i don’t even know where to begin. Those eyebrows... That hair... The bright pink shoes out of nowhere. Too much to unpack, why did they do this to her </3
Well, that’s it! I doubt anyone actually read this, but it was very fun to put together, if you’re reading this right now, i hope you enjoyed reading, and i’d love to discuss if others have different opinions!! :)
#monster high#dolls#doll collector#abbey bominable#monster high abbey#mh#mh dolls#ghouls rule abbey my beloved <3#i will have her one day#i hope#my posts
68 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Birds And The Bees ~ MYG [Request]
WORD COUNT: 2.3K
GENRE: Non Idol Au, Family Au, fluffy,
PAIRING: Min Yoongi x Fem!Reader
A/N: I hope this is okay for you! I know we spoke about putting the two of your requests together so I hope I did this some justice for you sweetie!
Jae shook his head at his best friend as they walked up the long paved driveway to their house. Jae and his twin sister had been out all day at their friend's house, having lunch together while their parents were out. They were supposed to go straight home to bed but the twins decided to have a sleepover instead, inviting their best friends Kayla and Derek over.
"I told you, my parents aren't even home," Jae laughed as he looked to his twin sister who was telling her best friend the same thing. Their friends were worrying that their parents would find out and get them all in trouble. The twins weren't normally the ones to have a small get together when their parents weren't home but with you and Yoongi gone they had free roam of the huge house you all lived in. They figured it would be no harm in having a small sleepover, they normally have them under your supervision anyway so it didn't seem like a big deal.
"Where are they anyway?" Kayla asked as she threw her long blonde hair up into a ponytail, shifting her bag from one shoulder to the other. Ara rolled her eyes as she thought back and on what you and Yoongi had told her that morning.
"A romantic getaway, they haven't been spending enough time together." Jae couldn't help but fake a gag as his sister told them where they were and at the thought of his parents still being romantic together. You were always all over one another as if you were still two young teenagers in love, which is cute for the both of you but embarrassing and cringeworthy for both of your kids.
"You want to be careful you don't get another younger brother or sister," Derek joked as he shook his head at the thought. The twins stopped walking when they reached the front porch of their house and stared at their friends who were both laughing uncontrollably.
"What? What's so funny?" Ara questioned, raising her eyebrow as she looked at her best friend who was starting to turn red in the face from laughing so hard. Kayla covered her mouth to try and silence her giggles but it was hard when Ara seemed so innocent in comparison to everyone else in their academic year.
"Do you have any idea where babies come from?" Kayla questioned this time, looking between them both as they thought it over. The twins were 13, almost 14, of course, they knew where babies come from. They'd spoken to their parents about it plenty of times but never the full birds and the bee's talk.
"Our mum? When they spend a lot of time together...Then mum-" Jae stopped him from continuing on when he saw their friends laughing even harder at them, he could sense that what he thought happened was wrong. There was a pit growing in his stomach as he felt embarrassed in front of them Kayla could see how it was upsetting them so she stopped laughing.
"You guys should really ask about that sometime," Kayla told them as they all walked into the house, taking off their shoes and coats as they stared around the place in Awe. It didn't matter how many times they came here they would still be in shock as they saw how different it was from normal homes. It helped that Yoongi, the twins' father and your husband, worked as a huge music producer. He wasn't famous but he worked alongside a lot of famous influences which paid well. Then there was you, the twins' mother, you worked as a bridal fashion designer which meant you got to work from home most of the time and get paid to draw, model and design gowns for people.
The house wasn't huge but it was bigger than most family homes, the small porch area they were now standing in had high ceilings with a fake crystal chandelier hanging down above them. The whole of the house was painted white and had marble counters in the kitchens and bathrooms. All the floor lined with different coloured flooring panels, Ara always made the same joke that it looked as though her mum had created the place in a Sims game and their father paid to have it recreated.
"Do you want another sibling?" Derek asked as they began to walk through to the living room, the lights were dimmed lower which made Ara frown as she searched around for the dimmer switch. As soon as the lights turned onto the full mode a scream came from the sofa and Yoongi rushed to cover you. The two of you weren't indecent but you were making out on the sofa,
"MUM!" Ara screamed covering her eyes as she turned around to face away from the scene before her,
"DAD!" Jae yelled out following his sisters' actions, their friends both laughing as they turned around and covered their eyes.
"We're clothed kids, I just wasn't expecting you here," You told them disapprovingly as you moved away from Yoongi and looked at your daughter, she was avoiding all means of eye contact with you. That meant she knew she wasn't supposed to have friends over and was trying to avoid getting into trouble with you.
"You were supposed to come home-" You checked the time realising that both you and Yoongi should have called them before now but you'd both been so lost in one another to have noticed.
"Hours ago, I thought we said no sleepovers," Yoongi said as he was doing his best to stay mad at them but he knew that he did the same thing at their age so he couldn't be mad forever. Neither could you since you knew what it was like to be their age and have the house all to yourself,
"You were supposed to be on your 'romantic getaway'," Your daughter grumbled as they all walked further into the living room and sat down on each of their seats in the living room. They already knew they were in trouble but if they could keep their friends there for long enough you and Yoongi would cool down. You'd never shout or tell them off in front of company. Kayla sat down beside Ara on one of the two-seater sofa's and Ara was still turning a bright red at the thought of their friend's seeing all of this. Her parents acting as though they were kids,
"The hotel cancelled on us last minute. Double booked us," Yoongi mumbled as he looked at Jae who was sitting with Derek on the beanbags in the corner of the room. Derek was turning away whenever they meet their eyes, feeling slightly shy in front of you both now.
"Mr and Mrs Min..." Kayla said slowly as she looked at the both of you, ignoring the look she was getting from Ara. Ara knew what was going to get asked and she wasn't looking forward to it.
"Yes, darling?" You questioned, raising your eyebrow as she stared at you trying to gather the nerve to question you.
"How did you and Mr Min meet? We've always wondered but the twins won't tell us," It was the talk of the school, or rather their school year on how the two richest parents meet and what their story was.
"Well...We met in college, I hated him actually. He was so stuck up and cocky." You giggled at the thought of it and Yoongi wrapped his arm around your shoulder, drawing your body closer to him as he kissed your cheek.
It wasn't a huge deal now as it seemed back then, The twins' groaned at the sudden display of affection coming from you both, they hated whenever you would get like this around them. Poor Jae still believed that girls had cooties and that if he kissed one his teeth would fall out, they were so young and innocent that it made it hard for both you and Yoongi to tell them the truth.
"He was a player in college, never went out with the same person twice...Then one day he asked me out, I told him no and I guess-"
"The chase was fun," Yoongi cut you off as he looked at you. Love filled in his eyes as he looked at you, the same love he felt for you back then still there in his heart. There wasn't a day that went by when he didn't think about how much he adored every part of you, he would go through it all over again. Every second of college if it meant he could start your story all over again, back to that moment his eyes first landed on you. The first time his heart skipped a beat which it still did to this day.
"You had the twins right after getting married...Was there a reason you wanted them so early?" Derek asked this time, he seemed to be just as engrossed in this story as much as Kayla was which made Jae and Ara groan. They'd heard all of the stories so many times that they could recite them if they felt the need to but they didn't want to. The thought of their parents still acting as though they were young and in love was enough of a cringe experience for them.
"Well we discussed having a large family, we had to start early." You laughed softly as Yoongi lifted your hand to his lips and gave you a small gentle kiss,
"Do you want more?" The room fell into a deadly silence, all five pairs of eyes were on you as you thought about it.
"We do want more," You answered softly, looking at the twins' who had discussed the thought of having siblings but they'd never given it a real thought before.
"In the future maybe, depending on the twins and how they feel about it all," Yoongi answered as he rose to his feet.
"I'll drive you both home, you two go and do your homework," Yoongi told the twins as they nodded at him, walking their friends out of the house to say goodbye.
Later that night the twins were getting ready for bed while you and Yoongi cleaned up after the late dinner you'd had together,
"Mum?" You glanced over your shoulder at Jae who was looking at you shyly,
"We have questions." You stared from him to Yoongi as you could already sense where the conversation was going. You'd walked past the study when you heard the twins debating on who was going to ask where babies really came from,
"Sure, s-sit down." You stuttered out hoping that Yoongi would take over the conversation since he was supposed to have the talk with Jae while you were supposed to have the dreaded talk with Ara who was now walking into the room in her PJ's. Sitting beside her brother and waiting for him to pluck up the courage and question you both on it,
"What's on your-"
"Where do babies come from?!" It came out as a yell from Jae who was now sinking into his seat as you both looked at him and then to one another. Debating if you were ready to ruin their childhood and tell them the truth.
"They're going to find out soon, school teachers them a lot..." You whispered slowly as you held back the tears, the thought of your kids growing up so fast was bothering you. Taking in a deep breath you turned to look at your husband, his ears were burning a bright red and he nodded at you.
The twins had different reactions, your son was staring at his father with a disgusted look on his face, his mouth hanging open at the thought of it all. Your daughter was staring at the table as she tried to erase the image from her mind, neither of you had gone into detail about it because they were your kids and it would be wrong but you told them the basics of how babies were made.
"I think I'm going to need therapy." Your daughter whined as she shook her head as if it was somehow going to get the image of her parents together out of her head.
"I second that," Jae mumbled as he stared at his father who was finding the whole thing quite funny,
"Well there was no other way and it was a lot of fun doing it," Even you groaned at the crude way he was speaking in front of your kids, you playfully smacked his arm and got up from the table. Going to make a cup of hot chocolate for each of you as you got ready for bed that night. The twins grumbled as they got up from the chairs and agreed to one another that they would never look at you and Yoongi the same way again for as long as they would leave.
"So do you want siblings?" Yoongi chuckled as both of the twins rushed off to their rooms, ignoring Yoongi as he kept yelling the question out to them.
"They're no longer our babies," You whined out as you wrapped your arms around the back of Yoongi's neck and brought him down into a kiss, whining as he tried to pull away from you.
"We can make new babies," He smirked, reaching around and grabbing your ass but you slapped his chest with the teatowel.
"When we get a hotel room, I don't want to while the kids are home." You laughed softly, laying your head on Yoongi's chest as you both stood in silence together, swaying to no music but just enjoying being together with one another.
Tagline: @lyoongx @mitzwinchester @fan-ati--c @rjsmochii @kneel-begyourpardon @taestannie @bisexualmess007 @innersooya @sw33tnight @sweeneyblue1 @jin-from-the-block @justfanonfan
#bts#bts x reader#bts x you#bts x y/n#bts imagine#bts imagines#seokjin#kim seokjin#jin#min yoongi#yoongi#yoongi x reader#yoongi imagine#yoongi imagines#min yoongi x reader#min yoongi imagine#min yoongi imagines#suga#suga x reader#suga imagine#suga imagines#jung hoseok#hoseok#jhope#kim namjoon#namjoon#park jimin#jimin#kim taehyung#taehyung
189 notes
·
View notes
Text
my teen angst bullshit has a body count
by @imgoingtocrash for @hailxhydra
Rating: T
Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Ned Leeds & Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Avengers Team
Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Ned Leeds, Flash Thompson, Jim Morita, Hydra Agents
Summary:
“Correcting people all the time, sucking up attention with the whole goody two-shoes act. I’m saying you’re a teacher’s pet, loser. And one day, everyone’s going to see it for the act that it is, and when they do—”
Peter’s hearing blanks out.
Pet.
It echoes.
Two years ago, Peter Parker escaped Hydra's control and was taken in by the Avengers. Traumatized from the experience but healing, Peter's starting to get a hang of this whole normal teenager thing. However, when Flash brings up a happily forgotten trigger from his past, Tony comes to give comfort and remind Peter that he's worth more to his loved ones than Hydra could have ever dreamed of.
Read on AO3
My fic for @friendly-neighborhood-exchange! Hopefully you enjoy it @hailxhydra!!!
Full fic under the cut as requested by the exchange:
“—But I’m asking if it’s a good movie.”
“I’m telling you, it was either picking Selena for the third time or Rio, which is a stupid animated movie about birds.” Ned shakes his head dramatically. “Everybody else will fall asleep, and if everybody falls asleep, then Misses Rodriguez will give us a pop quiz instead of letting us have a movie day.”
“But I like animated movies. We like them. We watched A Bug’s Life like last week!”
“Because you hadn’t seen it before! Your film under-education is criminal, and if I don’t help you fix it, who will?!”
Ned has a point. Being kidnapped and raised by Hydra after the age of six really limits a person’s entertainment consumption, as he’s learned more than ever now that he’s surrounded by other teenagers who grew up with movies and tv shows to watch at their fingertips.
“I mean, Steve does have a list…” Peter points out weakly.
Steve keeps it in his little notebook along with other things he doesn’t understand the references to yet. He tried to encourage Peter to start something like that in the beginning, but Peter’s never really considered himself a list person. He just sort of soaks up the world now, like a curious sponge. Sometimes it means he has to Google things he doesn’t really understand the meaning of, but it also means a lot of movie nights with both the other Avengers and Ned, which is actually sort of a bonus.
Ned stops them in the hall. “Yeah, but are they cool movies or are they movies for old people and war veterans who haven’t been alive for the last 100 years?”
“...You know that I don’t really know the difference.”
Ned gives a sad shake of his head. “You’re lucky you liked Star Wars, bro. Otherwise we’d be in a very different place right now, like, friendship-wise.”
“You still didn’t answer the question.”
Peter got to pick the movie for their classes’ Cinco de Mayo party. Peter’s not sure what either movie has to do with the Mexican Army’s historical defeat of the French, but he only picked Selena because Ned suggested it. Maybe he should be regretting that choice, if the other option was harmless little Spanish birds.
“You know, Parker, I have a question,” comes a very annoyingly musical voice from behind them.
Peter just barely resists to roll his eyes. Every time with this kid. Not that Peter is any less of a kid than Flash Thompson, technically, but he definitely feels more mature.
Ned, also more mature than some of their other classmates, completely ignores Flash.
“You’ll be humming the disco medleys for weeks, I promise.”
“Wait, wait, disco? I thought you said this was supposed to take place in the 80s and 90s?”
“Music endures, dude.”
“Hey, el idiots, I’m talking to you!” Flash interrupts again.
“That’s not even how you—” Peter starts to correct, only to realize he’s stepped directly in it when Ned groans.
Flash laughs obnoxiously to himself. “Just can’t help yourself, can you, Penis?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Peter grumbles. It doesn’t really matter what he says now. Flash has the attention that he wanted, which means he won’t bug off until the bell rings and until he has the last laugh. And that always happens, because he’s really the only one entertained by all of the poking and prodding at Peter.
Peter breathes in, steeling himself. He’s survived worse. So much worse. Bullies with electric prongs and steel cages and control over every other aspect of his life. This is just high school. Normal kids survive it all the time, even when there are bullies and bad test grades and cliquey subcultures. This is just one privileged asshole who thinks Peter’s an easy target.
In some way, Peter’s actually proud of that. No one has ever seen him as un-intimidating before. Even his Hydra captors knew that if they lost control of him as an asset, he could easily turn on them.
(Part of him always asks why he never did. If he wasn’t evil, if he wasn’t like them, then why didn’t he just fight back? But Sam says that’s just his mind trying to deal with trauma, and Peter is trying really, really hard to get better at ignoring those kinds of intrusive thoughts.)
Speaking of talking to himself, Flash snaps his fingers in Peter’s face to get his attention back.
“You’d think for such a genius, you’d be a lot quicker on the uptake.” Flash shakes his head like he’s disappointed.
“Please just get to the point already,” Ned begs, throwing his head back.
“Correcting people all the time, sucking up attention with the whole goody two-shoes act. I’m saying you’re a teacher’s pet, loser. And one day, everyone’s going to see it for the act that it is, and when they do—”
Peter’s hearing blanks out.
Pet.
It echoes.
C’mere, Pet.
Stay down, Pet!
He was property, he was an animal, he was a weapon, their weapon, he was a mutant and he deserved it, needed it, he was the Spider, a mongrel, nothing, he was nothing and no one and Hydra was the only home a no-good runt like the Spider would ever have and he should be grateful—Kneel, Pet, be a good boy and kneel for your masters—but he doesn’t want to, he doesn’t—
Foolish Pet, you wouldn’t survive out there.
You need us, Pet. You’ll always need us.
“Peter?”
He returns to the moment with one heaving breath, only to realize he can’t take in another.
His collar is too tight, they always put it on too tight and if he complains they hit him and if they hit him he bleeds and it gets on his clothes and he won’t get any more until his bath and he hates bath time because they water is cold and stings his skin and the soap is so harsh it burns his nostrils and they’re watching him he knows they’re watching because they never leave him alone because if they did he would try to escape, he would—
“Peter, what’s wrong, are you—?”
He did. He escaped and ran away but now they have him again and he can’t live like this, not when he knows about best friends and pizza and friendly ribbing and how warm he feels when Tony pulls Peter close on the couch and presses a kiss to his head and tells Peter that he’s proud. He can’t be here anymore, he has to go, he has to run.
“Peter, wait!”
Tony is, to say the least, nervous when he gets a call from Midtown Tech’s front office.
He trusts Peter by now. The kid has come a long, long way since he snuck onto the Avengers helicarrier during the chaos of a Hydra raid. Skinny as a rail, scared, brainwashed...abused.
The Spider.
Peter didn’t like being with Hydra since they were the ones that made him enhanced, but he sure as hell didn’t want to be locked in an enclosed space with a bunch of Avengers at the time either.
As was evident by the fight he put up until Steve knocked him out. Steve still feels bad about cold-clocking a kid when Peter jokingly brings it up now, but Tony’s never shamed Steve for the decision. It was that or some kind of drug injection with the way Peter fought back tooth and nail, confused and defensive. Practically feral, from the well-fitting clothing to his lack of speech.
It was all for the better, though, once they got him back to the compound.
Peter was a talkative kid once he let himself be. Funny, too. Almost normal, if you forgot the mutant spider genetics and years of torture from a bunch of descendant assholes that seemed to hate and resent the very thing they created.
That’s why Tony agreed to let Peter start school. Real, normal, human school just like every other teenager in America attended until they finished all twelve years of it.
Because he needed to be normal, sometimes. He needed movie nights, [other things], and most importantly, friends that were his own age rather than a bunch of adult superheroes that often acted like children.
But also because Peter wanted to go, and Tony had a really, really hard time denying anything that the kid wanted when he could so easily provide.
Peter had such a hard time wanting anything, in the beginning. What did Peter want to wear instead of the plain, grey, dirty sweatpants from Hydra? What did Peter want to eat now that he could have an adequate amount of calories for his enhanced, still growing body? What did he want to watch? Listen to?
All of these choices were suddenly available to Peter, but shaking years of being denied any kind of want, any kind of choice took a toll on him that took a lot of work to get through.
Peter had put in the work. Unsurprisingly well. He was smart—tactically from years of being trained for missions, academically from whatever education Hydra must have thrust upon him. Not so much socially, but they were doing better as Peter spent more time around people that actually cared about him and lobbed insults around to tease rather than to actually cause emotional harm.
But was that enough...training, of sorts, to be around a bunch of teenagers? Sure, Peter was technically also a teenager, but they’d found him at 14. Tony still looked at Peter and saw the wide-eyed little kid sitting in the corner of a containment cell, flinching every time Tony moved.
Two years later and a lot of growth physically and emotionally, but was it enough?
Tony was hesitant about it, wish-washing the entire summer with maybes and I’ll think about its until the deadline arrived and Tony had to actually make the call.
Peter had pleaded, citing an extensive, cheesy list of films that made him want the high school experience himself for some reason. He very genuinely enjoyed shopping for school supplies. He passed Midtown’s entrance exam with results that faked years progressing in homeschooling that Tony knew would have been true, if Peter had gotten the chance to grow up like he was supposed to.
So, Tony eventually said yes, knowing that one day this call might come and Tony would have to be prepared for whatever was on the other end of the line.
An “incident” of some kind. Whatever that meant. The secretary was entirely unclear, only insistent that Peter’s family should get down to the premises immediately to handle things.
That was Tony.
Part of Tony couldn’t fathom why Peter chose him out of everyone on the team to latch onto. Another part wasn’t exactly shocked. Trauma recognized trauma, after all, even if the context was entirely different.
Tony knew what it was like to be belittled. To be seen as something you weren’t. To be abused by someone you never really trusted in the first place.
He and Peter talked a lot in that little containment cell. Hours of Tony blabbering like he always did when he was uncomfortable and Peter just sitting and waiting, waiting, waiting for the strikes to start coming.
When he said his first words.
When he told Tony his name—not Spider, but Peter Parker, a little boy from Queens who lost his parents and his whole normal life in the same night, according to FRIDAY’s records.
When he touched Tony’s arm for the first time and got a smile instead of a reprimand.
He waited and Tony was patient and it was a rough road, but...Tony was kind of a parent, now. A parental figure, at least, among others of varying degrees of quality and influence on a scarred teenager.
He was Peter’s family, whether either of them was any good at it in a traditional way or not.
And also, you know. His money was paying Peter’s tuition. His time went into helping Peter study for the entrance exam. His name was technically on Peter’s manufactured birth certificate because he was the one forging it and it wasn’t like anyone else was offering when the subject came up.
And maybe, a little, because he cared about Peter. Loved him. Wanted to be what Peter needed, what he deserved, and what better way to do that than to write his name on a piece of paper that signified the job he sort of kind of wanted?
Tony slams the car door behind himself after pulling into Midtown’s parking lot, putting on his sunglasses for the brief trip into the early afternoon sun. He’s checking security cameras, exits, and also preparing a hefty sum of cash to go into Principal Jim Morita’s bank account as well as a handful of government officials, if that’s what it takes.
Again, not that Tony doesn’t trust Peter, it’s just...when you get this kind of call and your kid is a highly trained former assassin, you prepare exit strategies on multiple fronts.
It’s been two months and Peter has only made one friend at this place. The kids can’t all be angels like Peter proclaims Ned Leeds to be. If one of them touched Peter out of nowhere or said the wrong thing, maybe Peter lashed out. Maybe Peter forgot to hold his strength back like he’s been training to do. Maybe something was broken.
Maybe it’s something far worse.
Tony has to be ready for that. He has to be ready for whatever it takes to protect Peter.
At the very least, the police aren’t on site. That’s probably a good sign that they’re willing to leave this as an internal matter for now.
The unhelpful secretary of before leads Tony out of the office by the arm at a quick pace, not explaining the situation at all before they arrive at the scene. Whatever it is. Tony was definitely expecting more blood or yelling or...anything, really.
A small crowd stands outside of a door, marked by a golden plaque to be the janitor’s closet.
Leaning on the door itself with his arms resolutely crossed is a kid about Peter’s age. Short black hair, light brown skin, dressed so similarly to Peter that Tony’s starting to wonder if that’s where Peter’s new obsession with those geeky little t-shirts has come from.
“Mister Leeds—” An older Asian man pleads, dressed in a suit and standing up straight with all of the authority he can seem to muster against the stone wall that is the teen in front of him.
The kid shakes his head in response. So this is Ned, then.
“I’m sorry, sir, but I’m not moving. If he wants to stay in there to calm down, he should be allowed to stay in there.”
“I’m sure his parents—”
“He doesn’t even have—you don’t even know what he’s gone through!”
“And you do?”
“Well...kinda? No. But—but he’s obviously freaking out and everyone crowding around him is only going to make it worse!”
The adult rubs a hand across his forehead, stressing at a fold of wrinkles that settles there from the stress.
“Ned, I recognize you’re just trying to be a good friend, but this is a problem for—”
Tony clears his throat, catching the attention of both parties.
The older man sighs. “Oh, good. Thank you, Theresa, you can go on back to the office. We’ll take it from here.”
The secretary nods, brusquely turning around and heading off, leaving Tony there to be examined by both Ned and what must be the principal.
“Mister Stark, I’m glad you could come down, though I’m sorry it’s under these circumstances. I’m Principal Morita.”
“Obviously you know who I am,” Tony replies, shaking the man’s hand. “What did happen, exactly? Theresa was sparse on the details.”
“I told you, it’s Flash’s fault! He was being a dick and—” Ned shouts.
“Mister Leeds.” The principal interrupts, stern. “Another student apparently said something...unkind to Peter. He didn’t take it well and locked himself in the closet. I haven’t even been able to assess the situation properly yet. Normally I would start with asking Peter’s side of the story, but...”
He looks to the closet, where Ned still stands, defensive.
“The bouncer is a real stickler, got it,” Tony jokes, aiming a small smile at Ned. “Peter does seem to attract the protective type.”
“Oh,” Ned says, suddenly meeting Tony’s eyes and gaping like a fish. He seems to have finally realized exactly who he’s talking to. “Oh, wow. Mister Stark, it’s an honor. I’m a huge fan, like, so huge. Peter tells me to shut up about you at least three times a day. When he showed me a picture of you guys I was like, ‘Oh my god, your dad is Tony Stark!’ and he was like ‘Oh. Yeah, I guess you’d know who he is, huh?’ like he totally didn’t get how awesome it is that you’re Iron Man. And I know you’re only kind of his dad, but still—”
“It’s suddenly become very clear to me why you two are friends,” Tony responds, keeping his smile on.
It’s actually kind of sweet to see that Peter’s found someone to confide in, even if he’s seemingly left out the more traumatic elements. But he also knows that Peter can hear them through the door, and he wants to get to the kid as fast as possible instead of dawdling for time.
If Peter wants to see him, that is.
He does, doesn’t he? Tony has been there for everything, so far. Every breakdown when the choices became too much, when the world outside of Peter’s little cell and all of the things he did that he wishes he could forget attack him at night. He hasn’t gotten old enough to not want Tony around when he’s upset, right?
“Sorry, Mister Stark. Sorry,” Ned apologizes. “I’m just nervous and worried about Peter and—”
“I get it, kid. You’re good.” He gives a reassuring grasp to Ned’s shoulder. “But if you wouldn’t mind, I really need to see Peter now. You can ask him yourself, but I’m usually the exception to any rule about Peter wanting to be alone.”
“Right, yeah. I’ll just—”
Ned turns to open the door, but gives Morita a shifty look, like he doesn’t trust the man not to dive bomb in if given the chance.
“Peter—”
“Let him in,” replies Peter’s strained voice. He’s definitely been crying. Poor kid.
Ned pulls back and nods at Tony, stepping aside to let him through.
“You did a good job protecting him, Leeds. Thank you,” he says to the teen before stepping into the dimly lit closet and shutting the door behind him.
The room smells musty and over-powerful at the same time thanks to the potent combination of cleaners and the mop cart sitting so close together. Out of anywhere Peter could have picked, this probably isn’t the kindest to his sense of smell if it’s making Tony already scrunch his nose.
It’s lit by a single pull-chain light bulb, and in the shadows of it sits Peter, curled into himself and leaning against a rusty metal shelf filled with paper towels, cleaning equipment, and a few bottles of product that have to be expired.
“Hey, Pete.” Tony frowns at the cracked floor tile, but settles himself next to Peter anyway. His back catches some kind of spray bottle sitting on the shelf that digs uncomfortably into his back.
Peter sniffs, not looking up from the cradle of his arms. “Hey.”
Tony heaves a sigh, for the drama. “So, I hear you got your first bully.”
Peter shrugs. “Guess so.”
“That Ted kid is pretty nice. He’s a good friend.”
“Yeah. And his name is Ned.”
Tony stops beating around the bush. “What happened, Peter?”
“It was fine. It was good, you know? I got an A+ on my Spanish test, and Misses Rodriguez offered to let me choose the movie we were gonna watch for the Cinco de Mayo party as a reward. I didn’t even know any of the movies, but Ned said Selena was good because Jennifer Lopez is hot, so that’s what I picked. It was a good day, Tony!”
“...But?”
“But then Flash—”
“I meant to ask, is that his actual name? Like, legally?”
“No.”
“Oh thank god.”
“Flash said…he said I was a…” Peter’s hesitant to let it out.
“Pete, a lot of kids at this age are testing boundaries. They’re going to say a lot of stupid, insensitive, offensive—”
“He said I was a teacher’s pet.”
There’s a long minute of silence. Tony blinks curiously a few times. He doesn’t want to belittle what Peter’s feeling, but he also doesn’t understand why it’s caused him so much stress.
“I know, I know it’s—but they used to—” Peter swallows hard, probably only delaying another wave of tears. “Sometimes, before, they would call me…”
“Pet.”
Peter nods, starting to shake next to him on the floor, their arms lightly touching at just Tony saying the nickname.
“They liked it. I think it made them feel better about themselves if they acted like I wanted it. Like—like being locked in the cages or collared or—or being muzzled was good for me.”
“You need to learn a lesson, little pet. Be a good pet and eat your dinner. Stop your crying, pet. No more of your barking, pet.” Peter quotes with venom flinging from every syllable. “But I didn’t want that, Mister Stark! I promise! They gave me these powers and I didn’t want to be their pet and they made me—”
“Peter, I know. It’s not your fault. None of it is your fault, I know.”
Tony curls Peter into his side, rubbing his back consolingly.
“When Flash called me that I just—I felt the collar around my neck again and I couldn’t breathe though the muzzle and they kept kicking the cage even though it hurt my ears and I could never sleep in there because it was so small and—”
“Peter—” Peter’s hyperventilating. He’s panicking, Tony realizes. Probably just like he did initially. A flashback that triggered him into having a panic attack.
“And I know that’s not what Flash meant but I was back there and I can’t—I can’t stop—”
Peter breaks into sobs, burying his face into Tony’s shirt and clutching on tight.
“Oh, Pete. It’s okay. You’re okay,” Tony soothes.
He presses a kiss to Peter’s hair, unsure when he became this tender. Probably the moment he realized this was the way he wanted someone to treat him in the midst of his worst, most vulnerable moments.
“Sometimes the bad memories come back unexpectedly, it’s alright.”
“But don’t wanna think about it anymore!” Peter cries childishly.
If it wouldn’t break Tony’s ribs, Peter would probably start banging at his chest in frustration.
“What if it gets bad and I don’t talk anymore and I can’t go to school like a normal kid and I lose everything and then you won’t want me anymore because I can’t get over this and stop being a stupid animal who needs its owners to—”
“Peter Parker, no. Absolutely not.”
Tony pushes Peter away so he can hold the boy’s face in his hands. So that he can fucking imbue into this kid how much he is loved and cherished and human.
“You’re not property, and you’re not an animal. What they did to you was wrong, and you know that now. I know that you do.”
Not just because Peter’s been to therapy since integrating with the Avengers, but also because he’s talked to all of him during his recovery from the horrors of his earlier childhood. About how his life felt before and how it feels better now. How he wouldn’t have left in the first place if he really wanted to be a part of Hydra like they raised him to want.
He’s not the child soldier they raised anymore. He’s so much more than they ever allowed him to be in that awful place.
He loosens his grip on Peter’s face only to bring him back again with an arm around his shoulder. Maybe if Peter feels him, touches him, the kid will remember all of the growth he’s made, the family he’s gained.
“Buddy, you are getting better. I know it. I’ve seen it. You know we’re all so proud of you and the progress you’ve made.”
Tony sighs. Part of him wants to sugarcoat it. That Peter has seen the worst of the world and now he’ll just be able to move on from it scott-free. It’s what he deserves, but Tony knows from experience that nothing in life is that sort of kind.
“That doesn’t mean you won’t have setbacks. I have had setbacks. Healing from the bad stuff is really, really hard, but it doesn’t make you anything that they said you were. You’re a wonderful, good kid who deserves everything he’s worked so hard for. And you’re going to get it because you have me and the team and your new best friend behind your back. You’re not alone, you’re not in a cage, you’re—you’re home, Pete. You understand?”
Peter sniffs, a sign that he’s worked himself up again, but his weak nod into Tony’s chest tells him that some of them at least might be happier tears.
“Listen to me, Pete. And I mean really, truly listen.” He looks down at the snot-covered, tear-stained teenager practically in his lap. He does love Peter. He wouldn’t have gone this far for any other kid in the world.
“It doesn’t matter what happens—hitches, mishaps, a dumb teenage mistake. You’re our kid now, Peter. You’re never going back to Hydra. Never. Not with me around.”
He knows it means something to say it out loud rather than leaving it to be assumed. He doesn’t have as much of a problem admitting it as he thought he might.
“I’m never giving you up, or letting you go, or treating you like anything other than a person. Do you understand me? That is something you never, ever have to worry about. Not from me.”
Peter sobs against him. This time it feels a lot more like relief. A release in the safety of Tony’s arms that Peter hasn’t really allowed himself, even after two years of being free of Hydra.
Peter didn’t tell the team everything. He may never even tell Tony everything. But this is one more thing Peter doesn’t have to carry alone, and Tony is happy to help their kid navigate the horrors it's brought back into his improving life.
They sit there for another minute, Peter’s whimpers muffled in Tony’s dress shirt. He’s sure the principal and Peter’s friend are getting antsy. But all the same it gives Peter another chance to calm down, and this time he seems a lot lighter when he picks his head up to look at Tony.
“Feel better?”
Peter gives a sniffle, but accompanies it with a nod and bright, attentive eyes.
“Look, I think school’s a bust for the day. Let’s go home. Whatever you wanna do, just you and me. Nobody else needs to hear about this unless you want to tell them, okay?”
“And if you wanted, I guess…”
Peter tilts his head, expectant.
“We could...nah, it’s probably offensive, right?”
“What?” Peter insists. Tony tried to warn him, but Tony also can’t resist an idea once it pops into his head.
“I just thought, you know, if you wanted—if you thought it would help, we could get you a—“ He almost ruins it, but catches himself. “An animal. Like a dog or something.”
Peter is silent. He bites at his lip, contemplative. Looks in the direction of a mop bucket in the corner.
“Is that bad? You don’t have to, I just thought it might make you associate that word with good things, but if not—“
Peter finally meets his eyes with a tentative grin on his face.
“What kind of dog?”
#irondad#spiderson#au#friendly neighborhood exchange 2021#marvel#peter parker#tony stark#my writing#hailxhydra
48 notes
·
View notes
Text
Darkest Before The Dawn
pairing: willex, past luke/alex
summary: "your parents were never cool again after you told them you were gay.” OR an exploration into alex’s past, his family life, and his relationship with religion
essentially this is all one big angsty headcanon
authors note: basically i’ve been thinking about the gold chain alex wears around his neck and i’ve been way overanalysing what it is and i thought - what if it used to be a cross necklace that his devout parents made him wear?? also i’m so desperate for alex to have more backstory that i’m pulling it out of every nook and cranny at this point
trigger warning: homophobia, bad parenting
ao3
It starts when he’s seven. He’d invited Bobby over to his house after school to play, not knowing that his dad had come home from work early. They’re sitting at the dining table, drawing with Alex’s new 36 pack of crayons when he hears it.
“I just think letting him do all that... art stuff is gonna make him...” he hears his dad say to his mom, “...soft. Girly. We already have one daughter, we don’t need another one.”
Alex doesn’t really understand what his Dad means, but he drops the crayon he’s holding and pokes Bobby on the wrist lightly. “I’m bored,” he says quietly, though his picture remains on the table unfinished. “Can we go do somethin’ else?”
Bobby furrows his eyebrows and looks down at his paper. “But... I didn’t finish colouring my dragon.”
Alex looks at his Dad in the kitchen. He’s still talking to his mom, both of their heads bowed. He has that look on his face that reminds Alex of the time his mom tried to convince them to go vegetarian for a week. “We can finish colouring later... maybe,” he says. “Let’s go play in my room.”
Bobby takes one last look at his drawing but nods, gently folding the piece of paper in half and tucking it into his backpack. “Okay.”
They walk up to Alex’s room together, hand-in-hand like always. They pass the kitchen on the way and Alex’s dad turns his head, scowling deeper when he looks at their hands. Suddenly Alex feels cold all over.
“Boys,” he says, deep voice booming. “You’re getting a little old to be holding hands, aren’t you?”
Alex lets go of Bobby’s hand immediately and tucks it into his trouser pocket instead, nodding. Bobby looks like he wants to protest but Alex just nudges him and nods towards his room.
They walk away and Alex tries to brush the experience off. He doesn’t eat much at dinner that night.
---
His dad makes him quit choir the next year. He’s up in his room practicing for the Christmas festival when he hears three quiet knocks.
“Come in,” he says, closing his music book. His dad walks in, still in his shirt and tie from work. “Oh. Hi, Dad.”
His dad smiles stiffly. “Alex, what are you doing?”
Alex looks between his dad and his choir book for a moment. “Practicing for the festival,” he says, a smile growing on his face. “Mrs. Carson gave me a solo for the first--”
“I’ve been thinking about that,” his dad says, pursing his lips. “Wouldn’t you be happier... playing a sport or something? What about baseball? You know when your old man was in school, I was a real killer on the pitch.”
Alex’s tongue feels dry in his mouth the longer his dad speaks. He hates baseball. “Um... I-I like choir, though.” His voice is quiet, barely above a breath. His dad sighs and shakes his head. Alex feels an overwhelming sense of anxiety rise inside his chest. He hates disappointing people.
“I’m just worried about you, son,” he says, sitting down on the edge of Alex’s bed. “Okay, maybe not baseball. How about... soccer?”
Alex shuffles around on his chair. He feels like his heart has stopped beating. “Drums,” he mumbles, looking down at his hands. His dad leans closer.
“Speak up, Alex.”
Alex looks up, clenching his jaw. “I-I wanna learn how to play the drums,” he says. “L-like that guy from The Rolling Stones.”
His dad goes quiet, scratching his chin like he’s thinking about it, before he smiles and nods. He claps Alex on the shoulder hard enough that it makes him wince. “Drums eh? Sure, we’ll get you a kit and you can set it up in the basement.” As he turns to walk out of Alex’s room, he turns and throws him a cheeky smile. “My boy, the drummer. You know they say girls love drummers.”
Alex isn’t sure why, but that comment makes him feel sick. He stares at his closed door for too long after his dad leaves, his thoughts twisting and turning in his mind.
---
When Alex receives his first cross, he’s 12-years-old. He immediately vows never to take it off. It’s a beautiful piece of jewellery; a small gold cross on a solid gold chain. When his mom slips it around his neck, he feels... protected, somehow. Safe.
His mom smiles at him tearily as she hooks the clasp around his neck, running her hand down the side of his face. “Congratulations, baby,” she says quietly. “You know, my mother gave me my first cross when I was exactly your age. ”
Alex just smiles and tugs on the chain lightly, feeling the cool metal against his thumb and forefinger. “Thanks, mom,” he says quietly, looking down at where it’s dangling against the soft blue of his button down.
His sister, Andrea, comes from behind him and knocks his shoulder lightly. Her own cross is silver and smaller than his, contrasting against her light skin perfectly. He doesn’t remember when she got hers. She was four years older than him and got hers when he was just a little kid. “Congrats, Lexi,” she says.
His dad comes out of the kitchen, a bottle of champagne in one hand and two flutes in the other. He’s beaming. “This calls for a celebration!”
His mother looks at his dad and tuts quietly, though she still looks pleased. “Michael, it’s barely 9. We have to leave for church soon.”
His dad simply brushes off her worry. “My son is being confirmed, Linda. We’re celebrating.” He kisses her on the cheek and hands her a champagne flute. “It won’t take long.”
He pours himself and Alex’s mother a small amount of champagne and Alex watches, entranced as they cheers and take a sip. His mother and his father lock eyes before handing their glasses to Alex and Andrea, smiling secret smiles.
“Just this once,” his dad says. “Just one sip.”
Andrea takes the flute immediately and takes a sip. Alex watches her for a moment before taking his dad’s flute and lifting it up to his mouth.
The bubbles fizz and pop in his mouth. The taste is unpleasant, but... the feeling of his dad’s eyes on him, proud and sparkling with happiness make the experience a million times better.
As they drive to church, Alex keeps his hand firmly clasped around his cross, smiling the entire time.
---
Alex receives his first kiss when he’s 14. It happens in his basement with Luke Patterson. He’d invited him over so they could work on a song together. Luke had discovered him playing drums in the music room one day and had instantly recruited him to join his band, alongside Bobby and Reggie Anderson.
They’d long since abandoned practicing any form of music and were lounging on the couch in Alex’s basement, playing video games on his Sega Genesis. He’s so close to beating Luke at Mortal Kombat. They’ve been playing for 45 minutes and Alex has managed to lose every round so far.
But, with a fatal blow, Alex watches his character drop to his knees as Luke’s character poses victoriously. He groans loudly and leans back against the couch, trying his best not to pout as he hears Luke’s laughter next to him. “No fair!” he exclaims, dropping his controller beside him on the couch.
Luke smirks, boxing Alex in the shoulder lightly. “Not my fault I’m better at this game than you are,” he says. He’s leaning towards Alex, his face mere inches away from his shoulder. “I’m just naturally skilled.”
Alex blushes and shuffles away from him, leaning into the arm rest and trying to ignore his heart as it pounds away in his chest. “Naturally ugly, more like,” he mumbles. It’s not the best comeback, but he can’t really focus right now.
Luke laughs anyway, punching Alex’s arm again and turning back to face the TV. Neither of them speak for a moment but Alex can feel the air thicken with a strange tension that he’s never felt before.
His hand automatically comes up to grip his cross, the edges of the metal digging into his palm. He takes a short breath in and out, feeling the cold metal warm up in his hand.
He feels Luke’s eyes on him and he turns. There’s a small smile on Luke’s face that Alex can’t help but return. “What?” he asks.
Luke shrugs. “Nothin’,” he says softly.
Then, he leans in closer. Alex does not pull away.
Before he even realises what’s happening, they’re kissing. It’s chaste and completely innocent; a light press of lips against lips. Alex can tell that Luke hasn’t bothered to put on chapstick in his entire 14 years of life, but he tastes vaguely of grape bubblegum and iced tea. It’s nice.
As they kiss, he feels his grip on his cross loosen until his hand falls completely slack, landing on top of Luke’s hand where it’s resting on a cushion.
They’re interrupted by the sound of footsteps against carpeted stairs. Alex jumps out of his seat and lands on the floor in front of the couch. Luke loses his balance and falls after him, landing face first in the couch cushion where Alex had just been sitting.
The basement door opens and Andrea pokes her head through, holding two capri suns and a bowl full of chips. She sees Alex on the floor and furrows her eyebrows. “Why are you on the ground?”
Alex clears his throat and blinks down at his knees, trying to hide his shaking hands. “Um... it-it’s more comfortable down here,” he mumbles.
Andrea shrugs and walks in, placing the bowl of chips and the drinks on the coffee table. “Mom told me to give these to you.” She looks between the TV and the two of them. “I thought you guys were practicing.”
“We were!” Luke says, standing up and walking over to where his guitar is resting on the other side of the room. “We took a quick video game break, but we’re ready to get back to work. Right, Alex?”
Alex nods, but he can’t stand back up. “Right,” he says breathlessly, giving Andrea a weak smile. “Thanks for the snacks.”
Andrea nods, but she looks suspicious. She walks out of the room and shuts the door behind her. Alex doesn’t exhale until her footsteps have retreated completely. He breathes out shakily and draws his knees to his chest, wrapping his arms around them.
“Hey,” Luke says, running to Alex’s side. His hand hovers above Alex’s back before resting just behind him on the couch. “You okay?”
It takes a minute, but eventually Alex nods and looks up at Luke. “Yeah,” he replies, though his hands are still balled into tight fists. “I’m good.”
Luke nods, his hand tightening and loosening its grip on the couch cushion a few times. “Was that... weird?” he asks quietly. Alex has never heard him sound this unsure before.
He shakes his head, a small smile growing on his face. “No,” he says quietly, and he means it too. “I don’t think so, anyway.”
Luke nods again, smiling brightly at Alex. “Okay. Cool.”
“Can we not... tell anyone? About that?” He asks quietly, looking up at Luke, eyes pleading. “I-I don’t know if I’m... if that...”
“Alex, of course,” Luke says earnestly, finally reaching over and resting his hand in Alex’s shoulder. “It’ll be just between us.”
Alex nods, smiling weakly. “Cool. Thanks.”
He feels mildly comforted by Luke’s words, but he can’t help the anxiety that grows in his stomach. He stands up and walks over to his kit, sitting down at his stool and twirling his drumstick in his hand.
When he closes his eyes that night, snuggled up in his bed, all he can think about are warm lips and iced tea.
---
He comes out at 16.
It doesn’t go well.
His mom cries like he’s just told her he died... but what makes him more anxious is his dad’s reaction.
He doesn’t say anything at first. Just stares at Alex with that those hard, light eyes. He doesn’t even look angry, he just looks... disappointed.
“Dad?” he says quietly. The word gets caught in his throat.
His dad breathes in slowly and stands up. He walks out of the living room shaking his head. Alex watches him go until he’s completely out of sight. All he can hear are his mothers sobs. All he can feel is the weight of his guilt pressing down on him.
His cross feels like it’s burning his skin through the fabric of his t-shirt. Suddenly it feels like he’s wearing a ten pound weight around his neck. It’s hard to swallow.
He wants to comfort his mom, but he doesn’t even know what he would say. What could he say that wouldn’t make everything worse?
So, he stands up and takes one last look at his mom before walking down the hall. He passes Andrea on the way to the basement. She looks at him and then toward the living room where they can both hear their mother’s sobs.
“What’s wrong with mom?” she asks, placing a hand on his elbow. The touch burns.
Alex opens his mouth to speak but the words he wants to say get stuck in his throat. He brushes past her, ignoring her questions and running down the stairs to the basement and shutting the door behind him.
He sits down behind his drums and raises his hand to clasp his necklace, holding it so tightly his hand begins to hurt. He can’t cry. He thinks if he could, then maybe he’d feel better, but... the tears won’t come.
So, he lets go of his cross and picks up his sticks instead, twirling the left one in his hand a few times before hitting his high tom once, hard. It feels good, but the feeling doesn’t last long.
Eventually, he loses himself in the rhythm, hitting each drum harder than the last. He forgets for a moment; forgets about the disaster that had happened just minutes ago upstairs. He pauses for a minute to catch his breath but finds his mind wandering; is his mother still crying? Why hadn’t his dad said anything?
He shakes the thought free before pounding on his drums again. He’s not even beating out a rhythm now; he’s just trying to fill the space with noise to keep his thoughts out.
He’s interrupted when the door opens. It's his dad, holding an empty duffel bag, a somber expression on his face. Alex raises his eyebrows and takes his earplugs out of his ears. “Dad?”
His dad winces when Alex speaks, throwing the empty duffel bag onto the floor. “Pack your things.”
All the blood drains from Alex’s face and he stands up on shaky legs. He’s gripping his drumsticks so tightly, it’s a miracle that the wood doesn’t fuse with his skin. “Wh-where’re we goin’?” he asks, though he has a suspicion.
“We aren’t going anywhere, son,” his dad says. His eyes are on the carpet. He can’t even look at Alex. “Your mother and I... we can’t have you staying in this house.”
“What?!”
“If you’re going to choose to live with your... affliction,” he spits out the word like it’s poison; and in his dad’s mind, perhaps it is, “then it won’t do to have you living here, corrupting us with your ungodly temptations.”
“Dad--”
His father holds up a hand. “I’ll give you 15 minutes to get your things and leave.” He turns to leave the basement but Alex calls him back.
“Where am I supposed to go?” he asks, voice cracking as he tries to fight the tears that threaten to run down his cheeks. He knows crying will only make him more upset. His father doesn’t turn around.
“You can figure that out on your own.” Then, he walks out. Alex is alone. After a few moments, he walks out from behind his drums and picks up the. empty bag with weak hands and walks up to his room.
He’s working on autopilot as he shoves clothes and shoes and random items (when will he ever need his model robot?) into the bag until it’s almost full to bursting. He drops the bag on his bed and stares at it. He can’t hear anything; all the sounds around him are dull, muted almost.
He turns around and catches a glimpse of his reflection in his bedroom mirror. He still looks the same as he had that morning when he’d gotten dressed for school. There are still drawings on the back of his hand in blue and black ink from third period when Bobby and Luke decided to draw on him in lieu of paying attention to what Mr. Peters was saying.
Remarkably, he looks the same... but he couldn’t be more different.
Alex’s eyes drop to the necklace around his neck. It almost hurts to look at now. He’d done well by his vow; hadn’t ever taken it off, even when Jeremy Matthews teased him about it (and received a firm smack on the head from Reggie).
Shakily, he lifts his hands and unclasps the necklace, holding onto the chain so tight that the links begin to make grooves in his skin. He takes hold of the cross and swallows thickly, looking at his warped reflection in the surface of it.
He slowly slides the cross off of the chain and places it on his nightstand. The chain, though, he keeps though he doesn’t really know why. He puts the chain back around his neck. It feels bare without the cross on it weighing it down, but... Alex finds he kind of likes it.
With that, he picks up his duffel bag and walks out of his room. He can hear the quiet sound of scraping cutlery against ceramic and he winces. They’d started dinner without him.
As he walks towards the front door, he passes the dining table. When she hears his footsteps, Andrea looks up from her untouched plate of food and stands up. Alex shakes his head silently at her, gripping his bag strap tighter.
His parents don’t even look up. He gives Andrea a half-hearted smile and a wave before walking out the front door. He doesn’t bother taking his keys with him; he knows he won’t need to use them again.
The cold, night air smacks him right in the face as soon as he closes the door behind him. Then, without a second glance, he leaves and begins the short trek to Bobby’s house.
---
“So, I was wondering...”
Willie turns to Alex and smiles at him, squeezing his hand gently. “Yeah?”
They’ve been walking down the pier together in comfortable silence for almost 15 minutes, but the question bubbles up in Alex’s chest before he can control himself.
Alex looks down at their interlaced fingers before gesturing towards the necklace around Willie’s neck. “What’s that key around your neck for?”
At the mention of his necklace, Willie wraps his hand around the key and gives it a light tug with his free hand. If Alex notices how Willie’s slowed their walking pace slightly, he doesn’t say anything.
“It’s my house key,” he says softly. Alex parts his lips in surprise. “When I was a kid, I... I was pretty irresponsible. I was always losing things in random places. My mom used to tell me I’d lose my arms if they weren’t attached to my shoulders.” The smile on his face makes Alex want to cry. “When my folks gave me my first house key, it felt like I was finally growing up. I was so scared I would lose it, so I bought a chain. I’ve worn it around my neck ever since.”
“Even after...” Alex doesn’t continue his train of thought but Willie understands regardless. He nods.
“When I woke up after the accident, it was actually the first thing I reached for,” Willie says quietly, gripping Alex’s hand like a lifeline. “Force of habit, I guess.”
“Have you ever tried to visit your place?” Alex asks quietly, steering Willie towards the edge of the pier so they can sit by the water. Willie nods.
“A couple times. After I died, I didn’t visit for months. It hurt too much.” He pauses, looking out over the water as he scoots closer to Alex until their shoulders are pressed together. “I visited them for the first time a year after I’d died. I couldn’t go in. I was too scared, so I just watched from the windows like a total creeper.” There’s a chuckle in Willie’s voice that astounds Alex. He doesn’t know how he can be so cheerful even while talking about something so heartbreaking. “My family moved sometime around ‘89. I haven’t tried to find them since.”
Alex nods, listening to the sound of the crashing waves and seagulls as they fly overhead. He doesn’t feel pressured to comfort Willie at all. He thinks that telling him his story might’ve upset Alex more than it upset him. Instead, he rubs his knuckles with his thumb slowly, his finger savouring the feel of every dip and crevice.
“What about you?” Willie asks suddenly, turning to Alex. There’s a smile in his eye that Alex never wants to look away from. “Is that gold chain around your neck a remnant from your gangster rap phase, or...?”
Alex laughs brightly, throwing his head back. He can feel Willie laughing too, his shoulders bouncing up and down with every giggle. He stops and breathes out quietly, looking down at his chain and hooking his finger through it.
“Um... there used to be a cross hanging from it,” he says. “My parents got it for me for my confirmation when I was 12. I basically didn’t take it off for five years.”
Willie pauses, shuffles closer; almost as if he can tell what’s coming next. He doesn’t say anything, though, and somehow that makes it easier for Alex to keep going.
“When I came out, my parents um... they weren’t very cool about it,” he says, tugging a little harder on the chain. “My dad kicked me out.” Willie’s grip on his hand tightens and Alex lets out a breath. “When I was leaving, I took the cross off. It didn’t seem right to keep it after...” he clears his throat. “I kept the chain. I’m still not really sure why... I’ve been thinking about it ever since I left home. I think it’s just... a reminder of why I left and what I have now.”
Willie smiles, bumping their shoulders together. “What do you have now?”
He looks at Willie and find that he can’t control the smile that’s growing on his face either. Under the setting sun, Willie looks so beautiful; his tanned skin practically glowing and long dark hair moving with the breeze. He leans in and brushes a gentle kiss against the side of his lips. He feels Willie’s hand come up to cup his cheek and he leans into the touch.
They pull away from each other after a few seconds and Alex smiles again, resting their foreheads together.
“Freedom.”
#alex jatp#willex#willie jatp#julie and the phantoms#jatp fanfic#owen patrick joyner#booboo stewart#writing tag
161 notes
·
View notes
Text
Honey extra - The Sex Playlist + a little scene
Elide Lochan x Lorcan Salvaterre roommates au
A/N: I posted part five on the same day acosf was released, so if you didn’t see it, go read it, cause it’s.. long and it took me years to finish and I saw it didn’t get the same attention the previous parts did, and yeah
fic masterlist
this takes place somewhere between part five and six
Elide was one of the few lucky girls whose period was never too bothersome. The pain was always very bearable and only lasted a few hours, and most of the time, it wasn't even a real pain, just a slight pressure in the lower abdomen. She could go about her day without having to stop every few minutes because of a cramp - unlike Aelin, who died every month as if someone was stabbing her in the guts.
She also didn't have a heavy flow, which she would always thank the gods for, if they existed. She couldn't understand how her friends could put up with such misfortune.
Not that they could do otherwise, of course, but she was always in awe when they told her about their period-catastrophes. She knew that if it were her turn to suffer like that every time, she would rip her uterus out of her belly.
And at that moment, lying in a fetal position on Lorcan's bed, she wasn't entirely sure she'd be able to keep from doing it herself before the cramping stopped. Because for some strange reason, her body had decided to turn against her this month.
The last two weeks had gone by in the blink of an eye, she and Lorcan had fucked on every surface in the house and between work and classes and studying, Elide had gotten very little sleep. Considering also that every time she lay down, her boyfriend would slip in behind her and she couldn't say no to herself, to that pleasure so exhaustive and ecstatic, it made her forget that her body needed rest.
It had taken Lorcan to remind her that they couldn't go on like this.
So when she'd found a bloodstain in her underwear the previous night, just before going to bed after her shift at the diner, she hadn't worried so much and had thought that they'd finally take a few days off and maybe her body would calm down.
Elide wasn't a fan of period sex and the few times she'd done it she'd been so grossed out that she'd risked barfing in the middle of it. It simply wasn't for her.
What she hadn't expected though, had been cramps so strong they had pulled her from sleep in the middle of the night. Elide had gotten up and gone to the bathroom because she'd started moving around too much and didn't want to wake up the boy sleeping blissfully next to her. She had started pacing the living room, trying to figure out what the fuck she was in such pain for.
When it felt like someone had stuck both hands in her uterus and was digging their nails into her ovaries, Elide had knelt on the floor by the couch, leaning forward with her fists pressed against her stomach.
Lorcan had found her in that position around half past four.
To say he'd been scared out of his wits would be an understatement.
He'd thrown himself to the floor beside her almost immediately, all traces of weariness gone the second he'd heard her whimper in pain and seen that Elide was biting her lower lip so hard it was drawing blood.
When they had established that it was just her cycle, Lorcan had taken her back to his bed and now they were both lying between the soft blankets she had given him.
They had both been puzzled by this new symptom. After all, Lorcan had never seen her suffer from her period in all the years they had lived together and neither of them had expected it to be any different this time.
Elide had had to joke that it was the fault of his huge cock that had literally stabbed her in the uterus, and Lorcan had apologised in earnest, looking at her with wide eyes and pulling away a little, as if he really felt guilty. She had burst out laughing and then pulled him to her again, taking one of his arms and putting it around her body so that his big hand covered her belly.
He'd started moving his fingers over her lower abdomen, applying pressure from time to time when she seemed to tense up due to a cramp. It helped, somehow, to have him there to massage her. To hold her to his chest as they cuddled.
Now, Elide kept her eyes closed, his head resting on top of hers as they both dozed. Or at least she thought so, because Lorcan spoke, his rough, low voice too close to her ear, "How do you feel?"
She sighed, pulling her knees up slightly. His legs immediately followed her, as if they couldn't bear to be away from her body. She smiled, "A little better." then yawned, "I guess it's the fact that I was already tired as it is, what with university and all."
Lorcan hummed behing her, "I see," then he moved, pulling away only briefly, "maybe we should take it slower, with everything I mean."
Elide nodded slowly. She turned her head towards him, still with her eyes closed, but pursed her lips forward, silently inviting him to kiss her. He chuckled, but a second later their mouths clashed in a simple peck on the lips.
The music playing from the speakers suddenly changed from the sweet melody of a love song to something quite different.
"Cause I eat up for a while, let me through. The shake, the screaming aloud, I'ma fool. In my face you shake, leaking everywhere."
Elide's eyes went wide, "Lorcan!" she let go a surprised chuckle, "What is this?" she turned to him fully and could finally see the satisfied smirk on his face.
"It's a playlist I made yesterday," he then lowered his voice an octave, looking at her lips, "For when we can take the time to think about music instead of jumping right into it," he murmured.
Elide swallowed, nodding slowly, continuing to listen to the song.
Definitely very different from what he normally provided her with.
"I like it," she continued, then draped her arms underneath his, resting her head against his chest as he pulled her close to him and lay on his back, making her lie completely on top of him, "our sex playlist." she smiled, playing with the ends of his hair.
Lorcan hummed again and Elide felt it throughout her whole body when he said, "I called it 'elide'."
She had to force herself to calm the hot spirits that that new information had triggered in her body, but she was glad to know that he wouldn't be able to use that playlist with other people, considering it bore her name.
"I like it even more now," she confessed under her breath.
His arms tightened around her back and then his hands began to rub her lower back, where he knew she was feeling the most pain. Elide fell silent, enjoying his warm hands on her skin, and only had time to thank him before sleep beckoned her again.
The playlists
01.02
1. The Fixer – Brent Morgan
2. Why iii Love The Moon – PHONY PPL
3. Couch Potato – Jakubi
4. Anyway – Noah Kahan
5. comethru – Jeremy Zucker
6. Why Not Me – Forrest.
7. Loving – Surfaces
8. always, i’ll care – Jeremy Zucker
9. Like Strangers Do – AJ Mitchell
10. Yellow Lights – Harry Hudson
11. Glue Myself Shut – Noah Kahan
12. Colour Me – Juke Ross
13. Lovesong (The Way) – Charlie Burg
14. Lucky Love – Michael Seyer
15. Freak In Me – Mild Orange
elide
1. Skin – Rihanna
2. Do It For Me – Rosefield
3. Body Party – Ciara
4. When We – Tank
5. Rockstar – Rihanna
6. F***in Wit Me – Tank
7. On Top – Trey Songz
8. Acquainted – The Weeknd
9. Freaky – Gemaine
10. Make You Feel – Alina Baraz
11. First Fuck - 6LACK & Jhené Aiko
12. Young God - Halsey
13. How Many Times – DJ Khaled
14. Fuck You All The Time – Jeremih
18.02
1. I Don't Know Me Like You Do – Low Hum
2. I Don't Wanna Be Okay Without You – Charlie Burg
3. Why Can't I Have You – Gloria Laing
4. If I Go, I'm Goin – Gregory Alan Isakov
5. Let Me In – Skinny Living
6. Reason To Hate You – Rhys Lewis
7. Be Your Man – Rhys Lewis
8. Yours – Jake Scott
9. Loved Us More – Munn
tog tag list (if you wanna be removed or added just send an ask or dm me)
@maastrash @ireallyshouldsleeprn @sleeping-and-books @ladywitchling @thegoddessofyou @ghostlyrose2 @claralady @anne-reads @sayosdreams @perseusannabeth @letstakethedawn @simping4bookboisngrls @post-it-notes33 @booksstorm @nalgenewhore @queen-of-demons-and-hell @miserablemusings @lanyjoy-13 @vasudharaghavan @cupcakey00 @bri-loves-sunflowers @queen-of-glass @thewayshedreamed @the-regal-warrior @fangirlprincess09 @januarystears @rowaelinismyotp
73 notes
·
View notes
Text
‘So... the weather?’
This is a little AU piece that was requested! The prompt: Hey could you do a one shot where harry and famous reader are in a talk show and he has a crush on her. Maybe he accidentally hurts her while playing a game and he feels awful about it orrr maybe the host put a video where harry says that the reader is his crush and he gets nervous and embarrassed.
Promoting a movie was all but glamourous. It was a constant string of 14 hour days, 5am wake up calls and repetitive questions about working with this person or that person with very little time spent discussing the actual plot of the film. The savior of press tours was any interview where you werent alone, whether it was a joint interview with cast mates or a full couch talk show.
You’d been on the Late Late Show once in the past and you had to be honest, it was so much fun. Your first appearance included a 7 minute long musical medley involving fifteen quick changes and you very nearly faceplanting the floor.
By this point you were sitting in the dressing room, your hair being tugged one way or another by David your hairdresser, with your make up artist Cam working his magic on your noticabley exhausted face. “Who am I on with tonight Maggie?” you ask your manager, realising no one had actually told you. Maggie looked up from her laptop, a smirk on her lips. “James told me not to tell you so you’ll have to wait!” she said smugly. You rolled your eyes, “Of course he said that, that man has to stop trying to set me up”. James was a good friend, the two of you having met a number of times through industry parties award shows. He’d always try and find the mosyty eligible bachelor in the room and push you towards them just to shit you. Suffice to say none of them worked out.
Once your hair and makeup were done and you were dressed in a cute but entirely impractical and kind of uncortable outfit, a crew member came to get you and walk you down to the stage. “Ok so once we get to the stage, you’ll hear James announce your name, walk down the steps through the audience, wave or high five whatever you feel like. Then greet James and take a seat, then he’ll then announce the next guest”. You nodded along politely, already knowing the drill. “By chance, do you know who the other guest is?” you say shooting Maggie a smug look. “Yeah its Harry Styles” with that your heart skipped a beat, you’d always found him attractive and incredibly charming which is something you had stupidly mentioned to James once or twice. “That bastard” you say under your breath, you didnt have much time to think about it though because not even 30 seconds later you rounded a corner and there he was.
He was a gorgeous as ever, wearing what you could only assume with a gucci knitted jumper with a delicate lacy collared shirt beneath it, his signature pearls hanging perfectly around his neck, and a pair of cream flared pants. The outfit was quintessentially Harry. He was chatting to another random crew member who seemed to be giving him the same speech. You could hear James wrapping up whatever he was talking about, you were too distracted to follow it, you couldnt look away from the man 8 feet away from you. “You good?” Maggie says, pulls you from your bewildered state, Maggie’s words also caught the attention of Harry who finally looked in your direction.
Harry’s eyes landed on you and unbeknownst to you he was just as taken by the sight of you. Realising his gaze was lingering, Harry snapped himself out of it “Hey i’m Harry, nice to meet you” he said, taking a few steps towards you, his hand awkwardly out for a hand shake, something Harry was already kicking himself for doing. You took his ring clad hand in yours briefly “Hey I’m-” before you could finish you could hear James announce your name, you let out a laugh “that’s my queue”. It was probably a good thing that James has inadvertently introduced you, who knows whether you could have actually remebered your own name in that moment.
You descend the stairs, meeting James at the bottom with a friendly hug before taking your place on the couch. “Can you also put your hands together for the incredible Harry Styles!” James proclaims, the audience erupting once more, you watch Harry interact with the audience effortlessly as he makes his way down the stairs, having a bromance moment with James before he plops down next to you, sitting closer than you had expected him to. “So have you guys met before?” James says, knowing full well the answer is “No we haven’t, we met briefly backstage” Harry says. He couldnt stop thinking about how awkward he’d made the initial encounter but he couldnt help it.
Throughout the interview it was all too clear that sparks were flying bewteen the two of you. Harry had talked about his new music, you’d talked about your new film, an anecdote or two thrown in from the both of you. all was going smoothly until about 15 minutes in when James began to look very smug. “Now Harry, I know you two hadn’t met before but from what I hear you have quite the crush huh?” Harry’s cheek went bright red knowing exactly what was about to happen. You on the other hand had zero idea what was going on. “And how would you know that James?” Harry says trying to pretend he has no clue what James was referring to. “Funny you should ask my friend, this clip might just answer that for you!”
Your eyes darted to the nearest screen as the clip rolled, it was an interview from the press tour of the movie Harry had been in last year. The interviewer had asked the cast who they’d love to work with on future projects and to your surprise, Harry’s pick was you. The interviewer then asked why you were his choice, Harry’s response was “she’s just so talented, every time I watch her in something I’m just profoundly captivated. Her on screen presence is incredible.” One of his castmates laughed, playfully poking Harry in the shoulder adding "If it wasn’t already obvious he’s got quite the crush! He made us watch like 4 of her films during our set downtime” before the clip ended.
Harry dramtically buried his head in his hands out of sheer embarrassment as the audience let out a series of ‘oooohs’ and whistles and James burst out laughing. You let out an laugh as you awkwardly fiddled with your fingers, not entirely sure what you were menat to say or do in that moment. "Well then Harold, go on, ask her out. Nows your chance!” James goaded. Harry was utterly mortified but wasnt the least bit surprised. “So... the weather?” the audience laughed at Harry’s miserable attempt at changing the subject. “Alright alright i’l drop it but you can’t say I didnt try! Just remember this moment when you get married ok?” James said, throwing his hands up in defeat as he got in one last playful jab.
The rest of the interview went awkwardly by, although you were a little distracted. Did he really have a crush on you? How could he have a crush on you? You’re the one who had the crush on him, surely he didn’t feel the same? James wrapped up the interview and once the cameras had cut both you and Harry made your way backstage.
“Well that was sufficiently awkward and I apologise for how uncomfortable I’m sure that made you. I’m honestly gonna fucking kill James for that” Harry said, you could only giggle in response. “He has no idea what’s coming the next time we catch up. In all fairness, despite how uncomfortable that whole ordeal was, it was lovely to meet you” the two of you smiled at each other. “It was lovely meeting you too Harry, no need to apologise, I bloody knew he was up to something. anyway, I have to head back to my dressing room, I’ll see you around” you say before starting to walk away. You only make it a few steps before Harry stops you “Hey wait! What are you doing this afternoon? This was my last interview for the day and I was gonna head from here to get some food. Wanna come along?” You pause for a moment to think about what the rest your day looked like before smiling back at him “Well, I had planned to go home and eat some left over chinese in front of a film... but I like your idea better. Swing by my dressing room on your way out?” Harry could conseal his happiness with your response, a giddy grin now plastered on his face “It’s a date, but we have to make a deal that neither of us tell James ok? You know how smug he’d be. Deal?” Harry said with a wink, reaching his hand out to seal the deal. You laughed as you shook his hand once more, this time a little less awkard than the first encounter. “My lips are sealed. Now you better not take too long, I’m starving!” you say as you walk away with a smirk and as they say, the rest was history.
Hey lovelies, I hope you enjoyed this one! And I hope the anon who requested it thinks I did an ok job! I havent done many request pieces. Also I know its not super long but I still think its pretty adorable. Requests are open, just shoot me a message and I’ll see what I can do! xx
#imagine harry styles#harry styles x reader#harry styles fanfic#harry styles fanfiction#harry fic#harry styles fic#harry styles imagine#harry styles#one direction#harry fluff#harry smut#harry imagine#imagine harry#harry oneshot#harry styles onseshot
212 notes
·
View notes
Text
Paul Weller in conversation with Mary McCartney: ‘We used to pinch a lot of Beatles songs’
For this Woking-born son of the 1970s, there were four father figures who underpinned everything, from his first guitar to an inspirational career that continues to expand and explore more than 50 years later. On the release of his latest solo record, his third in three years, we asked Paul Weller to pick through the past with an artist who knows better than any how The Beatles shaped the generation that followed. By Dylan Jones; 4 June 2021 from British GQ Magazine
(edited for Mary McCartney content only)
For Weller’s latest GQ appearance, we thought it would be good to put him together with an old friend, the photographer Mary McCartney. Which is what we did...
Mary McCartney: So, Paul, when did you become a Beatles fan? When you were 12?
Paul Weller: When I was five years old. I had some of the singles, because my mother bought them, but the first time I saw them was the Royal Variety Performance in 1963, when I was five. From the time I saw The Beatles I loved music and then when I was around age 12 I started trying to learn to play guitar. Me and my mate had a few lessons for a bit and got a few weeks in, but the guy was trying to teach us how to read music, so we got bored with that. And as soon as we learnt enough chords we stopped the lessons and we just start doing it ourselves.
MM: When did you actually start writing songs?
PW: As soon as we – me and my mate Steve Brookes – learnt the three or four chords. I’m still mates with him now. We started a band and we just learned together and we just kept swapping whatever we’d learned in the week, swapping back and forth. It was just me and him and then we just gathered up people as we could find them. There was never any doubt in my mind that’s what I would do and, even at around 12, I thought that was definitely what I was going to do for a living. Well, I didn’t know it could be a career, I just knew I was going to do music. So by the age of 14 we were playing pubs, working men’s clubs and social clubs with The Jam. But your dad’s band was the catalyst for all of it.
MM: You know, I’m directing a documentary about the history of Abbey Road Studios at the moment, so I’ve been taken back to those times. There is a photograph of me aged three months on one of the sofas in the studio, so I was there before I can remember being there. Whenever I walk in through the doors I still get a funny feeling. But I’m learning a lot about The Beatles’ recording process, though. What was your writing process in the early days?
PW: When we started to write songs we just used to pinch a lot of The Beatles songs. They were very basic, just us taking our first steps as songwriters. I was actually very passionate at the time, but I didn’t have the skills to articulate that passion. That kind of developed. Our first songs would have been nonsense songs, just “My Baby Love Me” stuff... But, like every other fledgling songwriter, I just started off by aping other people, like The Beatles did, like Dylan did. Everyone starts out copying other people.
MM: I assume you recorded your new album during lockdown?
PW: I did. I had about four or five tracks left over from [last year’s] On Sunset and they were just lying around, unused. So I started working away, chipping away, trying to put together a new batch of songs. As ever, I recorded them all in the studio down in Surrey, just me and a guitar singing along to a click track. If I couldn’t record with the band, I’d send the recordings to them and they’d play their parts and then send them back. It was a very odd process, but it worked. However, when we could finally all record again together, it was like the first day of school after the summer holidays. It was great. The writing process was actually the same as it always is, but because I knew I didn’t have any live work for the foreseeable future, we just created all this space. I think the lockdown was actually hugely influential in a way, as all the quiet made me appreciate nature in a way I hadn’t done for quite some time, maybe ever. I could really feel and hear and see nature again, it started to take over. I loved hearing the birds sing and not seeing any aeroplanes in the sky. It helped me think about things I would never normally think about in any situation. I felt more in tune with nature. I had a thought that if we weren’t here, if we all disappeared, which I’m sure we will do one day, the earth would just reclaim itself and that it will always be here and we won’t.
MM: It was such a nice feeling, actually stopping and looking and appreciating, not rushing around. I was lying in bed one night in the middle of London. It was 2am and it was so quiet it felt like we had gone back 100, 200 years. I couldn’t hear the rumble of the underground and it was almost as though cars hadn’t been invented.
PW: How was your lockdown, Mary?
MM: Mine was good, but we’re not here to talk about me. I’m grilling you today. But mine was good. Well, I say it was good, but it was unnerving. I think, on a global scale, it was just unnerving because it was like living in a science fiction movie. I think the main thing a lot of us benefitted from was having to slow down and not being able to just go and do things. So, in that sense, it wasn’t a bad thing. I was obviously worried about people’s health and the economy, but, like you, I really got in touch with nature. I did a lot more photographic work outside. And, of course, I started to prep for the Abbey Road doc. What’s the perfect recording scenario for you?
PW: Well, I love my studio and, to be honest, I’d be quite happy to never come out of the place. I could quite happily stay there forever. I bought the building in 1999, but it’s only really been the past 15 years or so that we’ve really got it together, with the sound and the vibe and the equipment. I’m continually making little acoustic adjustments to the room. We’ve got a drum kit set up all the time, as well as a mic’d piano, so it’s always ready to roll. I can play guitar, obviously, as well as bass and piano, but I’ve never really enjoyed playing the drums, because I can’t sing and drum with any conviction. It’s a different art altogether, playing drums. I like drummers who play the song, who can play the tune and who aren’t trying to do their own thing. That requires a certain amount of discipline, a different discipline: not playing too much but playing the right thing. Your dad is a good drummer.
MM: Yeah, he is. Mum introduced me to a song he played drums on years ago, called “My Dark Hour”, by the Steve Miller Band. He’s credited as “Paul Ramon” and he does backing vocals, guitar, bass and drums. It was recorded in Olympic Studios in London towards the end of 1969, after an argument Dad had had with the others over Allen Klein becoming their manager. The others had gone off and he said Steve Miller walked in and asked if he wanted to play the drums on this track he was recording. I think the drumming on it is so good, but you can tell he’s letting out a lot of tension.
PW: I love that first solo album of your dad’s, the one with you as a baby on the back. That’s probably one of my favourite records. It was lo-fi before lo-fi was even talked about.
MM: I love the rawness of it, as it’s just so personal. I still listen to McCartney and Ram a lot. They shot the album cover up in Scotland. They were horse riding and he zipped me up in his jacket. He put me in the jacket so I was safe, as he was going riding. I love that picture from a photographic point of view as well, as it’s very real. It’s taken at the end of the day, during the golden hour. It’s so natural.
PW: Now, what was it like growing up, then, as a daughter of a Beatle?
MM: Well, it was more like growing up as a daughter of Paul and Linda, because they were such a great couple. But,
also, they were such adventurous people. So, we were kind of following them around and going on lots of adventures. We went on tour with them and we really only stopped when we needed to go to school. So I have lots of memories of travelling as a girl. I even remember going on the double-decker that they used as a tour bus in 1972. The seats on the upper deck were replaced by mattresses and bean bags.
PW: I assume it was your mother’s inspiration that made you want to be a photographer...
MM: I think so, as I think I just always saw her taking pictures. She had such a casual style too. She didn’t do a lot of setting up and neither do I. It’s just so much nicer when you connect with your sitter and when you just casually take pictures. I much prefer that and I certainly know that you don’t like to have your picture taken in a very set-up kind of situation. What really got me into becoming a photographer was looking at Mum’s pictures from the 1960s. They were about her being with someone and taking pictures and very much not “This is Jimi Hendrix”. Again, casual. When I became a photographer, I took Mum’s talent for granted. She would take pictures out the car window and then they became these books or a print on the wall. When I started doing it myself I’d put the camera up and I’d be like, “Dad, can you turn the car around so I can take this picture?” And he’d be like, “No.” She would take pictures so effortlessly and I didn’t realise there was a knack to it. Mum and Dad would treat everyone equally; I do remember that. We were always surrounded by people, so I suppose that’s why I think I am a bit of a people person. I like meeting people and I like connecting with people, but I still find I’m quite shy about it. I find it stressful, but I like it. But I could never in a million years get up on a stage, ever. Even thinking about it makes me feel like fainting. When did you first walk out in front of a big crowd? How does that feel? Is it just feeling that adulation and love and appreciation and then giving that back? Does that feel really healthy? I always think when it works perfectly, it just must be such a healthy feeling.
PW: It’s almost a weird thing, because just prior to going on stage, especially in the hour before, I’m in bits. I’m so nervous and so don’t want to be there and want to go home, and then within minutes of actually being on stage, as soon as that first tune strikes up, I automatically feel as though this is completely where I’m supposed to be. It feels like the most natural, most comfortable, Zen-like place you could possibly be, it’s so weird. I’ve always felt nervous before going on stage. That’s never changed. I mean, it’s got a little bit better as I’ve got older, but not much. I think I need to have that feeling. It was weird, because there was a time when I tried to stop drinking – before I stopped completely – and when I stopped I suddenly wasn’t nervous before going on stage. And I didn’t like it. It felt really odd.
MM: Isn’t there something superstitious about this?
PW: No, I don’t think so. I just think it gives you an edge. Those nerves can make you edgy and I think that’s important for me.
MM: And then did the nerves come back?
PW: When I started drinking again they did.
MM: But now you’re not?
PW: When I finally stopped drinking it took me at least two years to get used to that feeling of going on stage totally sober and straight. And now I love it. But it took a good two years to get comfortable, as it was really odd at first. I’d be on stage and I’d notice so much, like there’s a guy in the front row who’s wearing a green shirt or something, and now I don’t feel that at all. Now it feels natural and I have a greater appreciation of it. That’s the other thing as well, getting more from it and being more conscious of what we’re doing.
MM: Growing up, watching Mum and Dad on stage just felt natural. But I’ve seen you play a few times and it makes me realise how much I couldn’t do it myself. There is such great energy and it’s really entertaining and you look completely natural, but I wouldn’t be able to feel comfortable in that position. Also, to me, it feels like your music has to be played live. I went to a concert before lockdown and the person was so vacant and not connected to the audience and, because of that, it made me nervous. You could tell they were going through the motions, that it was an act. They had no connection at all. Whereas when I look at Dad on stage he’s all about connection. I think I had taken it for granted before that, but when you see someone who doesn’t connect, you realise how important it is.
PW: I know some people who turn up just before they go on stage and as soon as they finish they get in the car and they’re off. I don’t understand that either. It’s a far bigger thing than that for me, because I’m looking for that connection. As much as the audience might be, I am as well, and my band too, because I’ve seen it happen with my own eyes and there are some nights where you get so connected together by an audience that this thing just grows and grows. It transcends the moment.
MM: It’s like magic.
PW: It’s something special. The last time I played at the Fillmore in San Francisco, a couple of years ago, it was like that, and it wasn’t because of gear. It was almost like we took off, like the whole room just lifted up.
MM: Have you got a ritual for after the show?
PW: No, not really. No.
MM: My dad has this sandwich and a Margarita, because he doesn’t eat before he goes on. He waits until after.
PW: I have a cup of tea these days. In the past, I would have got off my nut, but I don’t any more. But if you have a gig like that and that becomes your benchmark, you’re always looking to get back to that moment, which is not always possible. But that becomes the thing you’re always searching for, to find that connection. We’re always striving for the spectacular. It’s the same with record companies. Sometimes you have to compromise, but what you really want to do is pursue your own passions. It was more difficult when we first started, because the record company tried to step in more and tried to guide us to do this or that. In the early days of The Jam they even suggested we cover a 10cc song. We said, “No fucking way is that going to happen.” You’ve got to stick to your guns. You’ve got to pursue what you set out to achieve.
MM: Fashion and clothes feel important to what you do, maybe because they make you feel a certain way to be able to perform?
PW: Yeah. But although I was too young to be really involved in the 1960s, I still lived through that time and that whole thing has never gone away for me. I love that period and it informs a lot of what I do, including how I dress. The whole look and sound of that time is just really formative. I don’t feel I’m stuck in that time, but it will always be the cornerstone of everything I do. I just thought it was such a brilliant time for music and fashion and art and all that stuff.
MM: What do you think it is about it? Is it experimentation?
PW: I think so. It was those postwar years, coming out of all that austerity, that bleak black and white, grey world – large parts of the country were still like that in the early 1960s. There were still bombsites. There was still slum housing. So it took a long time for Britain to become modern, but when it did, it was explosive.
MM: Dad describes it as it all suddenly going technicolour.
PW: Yeah, I think that’s true and you just see the clothes and music expanding. Men stopped wearing demob suits and started wearing all these bright-coloured clothes.
MM: And the pill came about and made life a lot easier.
PW: Then the other pills came a little bit later and helped expand everyone’s horizons. These people were pioneers. And also look at the art world – Peter Blake, David Hockney, Bridget Riley. It felt as though everything was becoming more modern and opening up and becoming different and colourful. I was only a very tender age, but, nevertheless, that influence was of great importance and value and always has been. Punk was probably the first time I experienced that freedom. We missed out on the 1960s, had a lift with Bowie, but after that it was largely a cultural wasteland. I was always looking for when I thought it was going to be our term. The 1970s were still very much in the shadow of the 1960s until punk. And then it all blossomed. Then it all started to make sense.
Fat Pop (Volume 1) by Paul Weller is out now.
Producer: Grace Guppy. First assistant: Pedro Faria. Digital technician: Alexander Brunacci. Make-up: Jane Bradley. Retouching: The Hand Of God
32 notes
·
View notes
Text
Stark Spangled Banner
Ch 14: Nothing Personal
Summary: Steve confronts Fury about the Lemurian Star mission and the Director reveals just exactly what it is he’s been working on. However, when Fury is later gunned down in Steve’s apartment right in front of the Captain and Katie, the two are forced to run from the very people they’ve called colleagues and friends for years.
Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark
Warnings: Language! Violence.
A/N: I love this edit from @angrybirdcr
Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.
Chapter 13
Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist
“You just can’t stop yourself from lying, can you?” Steve seethed as he crossed the floor of Fury’s office.
Nick didn’t even need to ask him what he was talking about. Without turning round the Director spoke calmly. “I didn’t lie. Agent Romanoff had a different mission than yours.”
“Which you didn’t feel obliged to share” Steve pressed, raising an eyebrow as the Director spun in his chair to face him.
“I’m not obliged to do anything” Fury replied simply, looking at him.
“Those hostages could’ve died, Nick.” Steve pressed, holding the man’s gaze.
“I sent the greatest soldier in history to make sure that didn’t happen.” Fury stated, and Steve could feel his temper rising even more. He hated the blasé attitude the Director was discussing the issue with, like it was simply something he wasn’t all that bothered about.
“Soldiers trust each other, that’s what makes it an army.” He said after a short pause. “Not a bunch of guys running around and shooting guns.”
He wasn’t expecting the response he got. Fury leaned forward, frowning as he levelled Steve with a look.
“The last time I trusted someone, I lost an eye.” Fury spoke, his tone steely. Steve cocked his head to one side, crossing his arms but maintaining his silence. “Look, I didn’t want you doing anything you weren’t comfortable with. Agent Romanoff is comfortable with everything.”
“I can’t lead a mission when the people I’m leading have missions of their own.” Steve pointed down at Fury’s desk, stressing his point.
“It’s called compartmentalization” Fury eyed him. “Nobody spills the secrets because nobody knows them all.”
Steve snorted silently and gestured at Fury. “Except you.”
Fury took a deep breath and levelled Steve with a look. “You’re wrong about me. I do share. I’m nice like that.”
Steve frowned as Fury stood up and motioned for him to follow.
“Where are we going?” Steve’s frustration was evident on his tone.
“You’ll see.” Fury stepped inside the elevator. Steve followed. “Insight bay.”
A photo of Nick’s SHIELD ID flashed up on the screen, surrounded by a green light. Then Steve noticed his, but the light was red as the SHIELD computer spoke. “Captain Rogers does not have clearance for Project Insight.”
“Director override, Fury, Nicholas J.” Fury spoke, without missing a beat.
“Confirmed.”
The elevator started to moved downwards. Steve leaned against the rail which ran round the middle of the glass box and clasped his hands in front of him by his belt. Despite his initial annoyance, he had found himself beginning to understand what the Director was saying. SHIELD had so many secrets, many a matter of national security. It made no sense for everyone to know everything, it was a security risk, he got that. But it still irked him.
“You know, they used to play music.” Steve said, his tone softer as he broke the silence, making a joke at his own expense.
“Yeah. My grandfather operated one of these things for forty years.” Fury mused, somewhat nostalgic. “My granddad worked in a nice building, he got good tips. He’d walk home every night, roll of ones stuffed in his lunch bag. He’d say ‘hi’, people would say hi back. Time went on, neighbourhood got rougher. He’d say ‘hi’ they’d say, ‘Keep on steppin’. Granddad got to grippin’ that lunch bag a little tighter.”
The flash into Fury’s personal life surprised Steve somewhat. He cocked his head to one side and looked at the man. “Did he ever get mugged?”
“Every week some punk would say, “What’s in the bag?”
“What did he do?”
“He’d show ‘em. Bunch of crumpled ones and loaded point twenty-two Magnum.” Fury smirked “Granddad loved people. But he didn’t trust them very much.”
Steve had to smirk slightly, thinking that Fury sounded a hell of a lot like his grandpa. He looked down for a second, and when he looked up he was aware that they had now travelled down the side of the Triskellion and were descending further, underground even. As Steve looked around he realised he was in some sort of below building hangar, and he looked out of the glass, spotting three giant Helicarriers. His mouth fell open in surprise, his brow furrowing.
“Yeah, I know. They’re a little bit bigger than a point twenty-two.” Fury remarked.
Eventually the elevator stopped and Fury stepped out, Steve hot on his tail as he watched people bustling around the hangar shouting, carrying things, fixing things. The helicarriers were bigger than the one they’d used during the Chitauri invasion, each being able to house at least twenty Quinjets.
“This is Project Insight.” Fury explained as he led Steve across the floor of the hangar. “Three next generation Helicarriers synced to a network of targeting satellites.”
And then Steve understood. “Launched from the Lemurian Star.”
“Once we get them in the air they never need to come down. Continuous suborbital flight courtesy of our new repulsor engines.” Fury stopped underneath one.
“Stark?” Steve asked, frowning.
“Well, he had a few suggestions once he got an up close look at our old turbines.” Fury nodded, as they continued. “But don’t worry, that’s not something Nova is keeping from you.”
“I wasn’t” Steve said honestly, as he looked up and around the hangar. “I trust my girl.”
Fury looked at him before he turned his attention back to the matter in hand and pointed up again “These new long range precision guns can eliminate a thousand hostiles a minute. The satellites can read a terrorist’s DNA before he steps outside his spidy hole. We gonna neutralize a lot of threats before they even happen.”
Steve crossed his arms. “I thought the punishment usually came after the crime.”
“We can’t afford to wait that long.”
Steve could feel the nerve twitching in his jaw. “Who’s ‘we’?”
“After New York, I convinced the World Security Council we needed a quantum surge in threat analysis. For once we’re way ahead of the curve”
“By holding a gun at everyone on Earth and calling it protection?” Steve looked at the director, frowning. He didn’t like this. It smacked of something HYDRA would do.
Fury picked up on his tone and he looked at Steve, arching an eyebrow. “You know, I read those SSR files. Greatest generation? You guys did some nasty stuff.”
Don’t I know it? Steve thought to himself as he took a deep breath. “Yeah, we compromised. Sometimes in ways that made us not sleep so well. But we did it so the people could be free.” He turned and pointed at the helicarriers before looking at Fury “This isn’t freedom, this is fear.”
“SHIELD takes the world as it is, not as we’d like it to be.” Fury stated simply. “It’s getting damn near past time for you to get with that program, Cap”
Steve shook his head. “Don’t hold your breath.” And with that he left.
He changed quickly, eager to put as much distance between him and SHIELD as possible for the rest of the day. After a short conversation with Rumlow about a mission report, he was on his bike and heading for Katie’s apartment, his mind whirling. What was Fury playing at? This wasn’t what he signed up for, at all. It felt so far removed from what he had joined the army to do, to keep people safe, free. Had he really changed that much? He felt a sudden pang for his Howling Commandoes, for Bucky, for Peggy, for Colonel Philips, for all those damned missions which had been simple- destroy HYDRA before they destroyed you.
Despite the fact he had woken up that morning and felt so happy with his girl being there, he couldn’t help but wish life was as simple as it had been back then.
*****
Katie’s morning had been far more productive. She had looked at a couple of transcript extracts her editor had selected. She had to admit, the guy had a good eye for a future blockbuster, and this one she particularly liked. After discussions, they settled on an initial run of two hundred hard copy of the books to be sold online, along with a downloadable kindle version, and if they went they would review how many more we needed.
Pleased with her mornings work and having cleared her diary for the afternoon, she had lunch in the kitchen and had just finished when she heard the elevator door open. She headed into the main area of her apartment to greet Steve, taking a deep breath as she noticed how drained he looked.
“Dare I ask how it went?”
His response was a sigh as he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her in for a hug, simply wanting to feel her close.
“That good huh?” She squeezed him back gently before she pulled away and headed towards the kitchen, him following behind her.
“Debrief was fine. Fury, however, went on about compartmentalisation, the usual crap.” Steve sighed, running his hand over his face, smiling softly to himself when he saw she was gathering stuff out of the fridge to make him a sandwich “And then shared something I really wish he hadn’t.”
“Like what?” she asked, throwing some turkey and mayo onto a sub.
“Ever heard of Operation Insight?” Steve looked at her, even though he knew the answer. There’s no way she would have and not told him.
“No?” She handed him the plate containing his sandwich.
“Well apparently your brother has. Thanks.” He took the plate from her sat at the breakfast bar taking a bite of his food. He swallowed and then continued “Three huge hellicarriers that are basically designed to go up in the air and never come down based on Tony’s arc reactor tech. Programmed to monitor potential threats and wipe them out before they get chance to do anything.”
She frowned, settling on the stool next to him. “And Fury has sanctioned this?”
Steve nodded, taking another bite of his food. “I don’t like it. Like I said to him, punishment normally comes after the crime.”
Katie could see he was really struggling with this and that his faith in SHIELD was running very, very thin. A lot of what the Agency did was political, not just about keeping people safe. She’d tried to explain that the lines were a lot more blurred than back in the 40s, but still had to admit she was kind of with him. As she pondered for a moment, Steve could see the cogs whirring in her brain, the slight v shape crease that always formed in the middle of her eyes when she was thinking was present. Steve didn’t blame her, it had thrown him too and he’d had the full explanation. The hangar had been huge, and there were enough people in there to make him realise that a LOT of people knew about it. What he didn’t know was who on his immediate team knew about it.
“I just wanna know who I can trust” He sighed, looking at Katie as she reached out gently, touching his cheek.
“I know, Soldier.” she said, softly before she shook her head. “Okay, no more talk about SHIELD or hellicarriers, or whatever.” She moved to pick up her soda. “What do you want to for the rest of the afternoon?”
Steve wanted to go to the Smithsonian. He’d been thinking about it since they had emailed him to invite him to open the exhibit on him, which he had politely declined. But he was curious to see what it was like, curious and also eager, after today, to be reminded of a time when he worked with people he knew inside out, people that he would trust with his life. And he was keen to share that with his girl, the woman who had months ago before they even started dating, been the one to help him pick what the museum would display.
“You know, we’ve still not been to the Smithsonian since they opened the exhibit.” He shruged, hoping his tone was casual enough to make it sound like he hadn’t been thinking about it enough. He failed though, smiling as Katie looked at him, arching an eyebrow.
Busted.
“Call it curiosity.” He shrugged.
“You know what curiosity did don’t you?” Katie quipped back, her eyes flashing playfully.
“What?”
She grinned as she delivered the punchline “Killed the Cap.”
*****
“A symbol to the nation. A hero to the world. The story of Captain America is one of honour, bravery and sacrifice,” the narrator at the Smithsonian museum said as we entered the exhibit.
Steve paused to pull the collar of his blue jacket up a little further, a gesture that, along with the cap that was pulled down over his face, he hoped would prevent him from being recognised as they made their way to the start of the pieces.
"Denied enlistment due to poor health, Steven Rogers was chosen for a program unique in the annals of American warfare. One that would transform him into the world’s first super soldier,” the Narrator continued. Steve paused to look at the display to his right when Katie gently nudged him.
“Think you’ve been rumbled.”
Steve looked down at her, and then followed her gaze as she looked to her left at a small boy dressed in a light blue T-shirt adorned with the design of his shield who was watching the pair of them, his eyes growing wide. Steve smiled, put a finger against his mouth to indicate for him to keep quiet. The boy nodded and then turned, running back off to find his mum.
Without speaking Steve took her hand and led her over to the part of the exhibit that had an older looking motorcycle on a platform and some black and white footage playing beside it. The footage was of him in his older Captain America uniform, also currently on display, running through a battlefield.
“In this rare footage, everyone’s favourite war hero, Captain America…”
He didn’t stop to hear the rest, he could remember that mission by heart. It had been on the outskirts of Toulouse, liberating another HYDRA prison camp. Katie allowed herself to be led by him, this was his moment after all. They slowly walked to a display of mannequins dressed in his original suit, plus those of the Howling Commandos, which had been donated by their families. His eyes lingered on Bucky’s for a second and he took a deep breath.
“Battle tested, Captain America and his Howling Commandos quickly earned their stripes. Their mission, taking down HYDRA, the Nazi rogue science division,”
Katie looked at the uniforms, a smile on her face. She had only seen photos of Steve’s war suit, never seen it in person and it intrigued her. More so because this was something that her dad had made, something physical he had touched. She felt a tug on her hand again, and she looked up to see that she was being led to a section dedicated to Bucky. The familiar (albeit again, only from photos), handsome face of his best friend looked back at them as they wandered over to read what it said in more detail.
“Best friends since childhood, Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers were inseparable on both school yard and battlefield. Barnes is the only Howling Commando to give his life in service of his country…”
The narration didn’t cover half the text on the black, glass screen and in Katie’s opinion it wasn’t a particularly good tribute to a man who had lost his life in such tragic circumstances. She read the rest of the text as Steve’s eyes skated over it, reading, despite the fact he knew it all. He wished he could have saved him, he really did. He’d loved him to have been able to meet Katie. But then, he wouldn’t have anyway. As he would have most likely been dead now. Or what’s to say things may or may not have ended up differently. Would Buck have been on the Valkyrie with him?
He watched the black and white footage playing, where the two of them were talking and then laughing about something and he felt the sadness hit his chest again. And as if she sensed it too, Katie gripped his hand a little bit tighter and lay her head against his arm, her weight giving him something to anchor himself too, and he was grateful for it.
They carried on walking and then they found there was a small cinema area a bit further round the corner playing footage and interviews. Steve paused for a second and then looked at Katie, the question stayed silent. She nodded and together they walked in, taking a seat on one of the benches. There was a bit of introduction footage, and then a familiar face appeared on the screen.
Besides him Katie took a deep breath and whispered a single word “Dad…” and he automatically dropped a hand to her knee, where she placed hers on top of his as the two of them watched her father an animatedly talking to the camera.
“Rogers was different” Howard spoke, smiling, the caption on the screen telling him the footage had been filmed in 1953. “He was constantly striving to do the right thing, with no fear or care for how it would affect him. He, err, when we dropped him behind enemy lines we had no idea if we would see him again. I narrowly escaped myself, the machine guns nearly took our aircraft down but without thought to how he would get back, he told us to leave him behind. When they declared him missing in action the entire company was devastated but, lo and behold… well they can’t keep a good man down.” Howard paused and then looked down and back up at the camera “I can only hope that if I’m graced with Children, they grow up to be half as driven as he was to do the right thing…”
As Katie looked down at her feet, a stray tear fell down her cheek. Seeing her dad there like that was raw. She knew that Tony felt the loss of their parents far more than she did, she had only been seven after all when they had died and Tony had been her father, if you will, for far longer than her actual dad had. But still, seeing him in front of her so candidly, talking about his hopes for his future children, made something in her chest tighten and she couldn’t help but feel sadness at the fact she never got the chance to really know him. Steve gently squeezed her knee, but then as they looked back up at the screen it was his turn to still as someone he recognised extremely well, her face painted into his memory for life, entered the screen and began speaking, also in 1953.
"That was a difficult winter. A blizzard had trapped half our battalion behind the German line. Steve, Captain Rogers, he fought his way through a HYDRA blockade that had pinned our allies down for months.” Peggy Carter stumbled slightly through the interview. “He saved over a thousand men, including the man who would become my husband as it turned out. Even after he died, Steve was still changing my life,” And despite the fact that she smiles slightly at the end of this line, it’s clear to see that talking about Steve affected her a lot.
Katie leaned against him and with a breath he lay his head on top of hers. “We haven’t seen her for a while…” she whispered as the video finished. “Shall we go on the way home?”
He gave a soft chuckle and dropped a kiss to the crown of her head.
“You read my mind.”
*******
Peggy was pleased to see them, as always when she was having a good day. They both greeted her and after a few pleasantries they told her about their trip to the Smithsonian. Peggy smiled, informing them that she remembered the interview, like it was yesterday, apparently the man interviewing her had been an “utter rogue”, but she didn’t elaborate on what that meant further than saying he was worse than Barnes, which made Steve laugh. They chatted a little about her time as Director at SHIELD before she trailed off with a sigh as she noticed that Steve was uncharacteristically quiet. After a little gentle coaxing from her and Katie he told her what was on his mind.
“My whole life I’ve just wanted to do what was right, I guess I’m not sure what that is anymore.” He paused for a moment, thinking of how to voice his worries about SHIELD “And I thought I could just throw myself back in and follow orders, it’s just not the same.”
Peggy chuckled as she rolled her eyes and looked at Katie. “He’s always so dramatic.”
Katie let out a small laugh, nodding her agreement. “Tell me about it!”
Steve shook his head, a smile on his face as he raised his eyebrows slightly and looked away as Peggy continued to speak.
“Look you saved the world, we rather mucked it up.”
“No you didn’t. You know, knowing that you helped found SHIELD is half the reason I stay.”
“And the other half being?” Her eyes strayed to Katie who smiled, looking down and then up at Steve as he caught her eye, his hand resting on her knee.
“I quit remember?” Katie reminded her.
Peggy smiled “Indeed, a woman with principles. That I can get on board with. ”Katie gave a little smile as Peggy continued. “Look, the world has changed and none of us can go back.” She spoke softly. “All we can do is our best, and sometimes the best that we can do is to start over.“
At that she started to cough. Steve quickly picked up a glass of water from the table and rounded the back of the chair Katie was sitting in to try and hand her the glass.
"Peg?” He held the glass out as her coughing subsided and she took a sip. Once she had finished she looked up and stared at Steve as if she was seeing a ghost
“Steve?” Peggy breathed out in an amazed yet broken voice.
“Yeah,” Steve whispered, his heart sinking as he recognised the look in her face. Her memory had gone, again.
“You’re alive! You, you came, you came back,” Peggy whimpered. Tears were gathering in her eyes at this point as she tried to hold them back and Steve was struggling to do the same with his own. One of the smartest, nicest, bravest women he had ever met was being betrayed by an illness that was literally rotting her brain. It was cruel, and every time she did this, they went through the same routine.
“Yeah, Peggy.” Steve responded forcing a smile onto his face as Katie squeezed his hand gently, standing up so he could take the chair next to Peggy.
“It’s been so long. So long,” Peggy started to cry, giving up on holding back her tears.
“I’ll leave you with her.” Katie spoke softly as she gently touched Steve’s shoulder. His hand briefly reached up to lay over hers before he leaned over to take Peggy’s.
“Well, I couldn’t leave you.” He forced himself to smile. “Not when you still owe me a dance.”
Normally that calmed the old lady down, but not today. She was becoming more and more confused and in the end he had to press the call button.
“Again?” The nurse who attended asked softly, and Steve simply nodded.
“I’ll fetch the doctor.”
Outside Katie took a deep breath and headed towards her car. Ex partners could always be an issue in relationships but this was something else, something completely different. She opened the passenger side to the car and sat side on in the seat, door open, legs dangling out. She felt sorry for Peggy, she really did, and her heart ached for Steve. It can’t be easy seeing the woman he once loved, and probably still did in some way, fading like that in front of your eyes.
She ran her hand over her face, rubbing at her eyes slightly and waited as she watched various people coming and going out of the main doors of the hospital. It wasn’t that long before a familiar figure appeared, a flash of white T-shirt standing out against his dark navy jacket and equally dark jeans as he walked towards her, hands in his pockets. She stood up, not saying a word as she wrapped her arms around him and he buried his face into the nook of her shoulder and neck, his safe place, his hands gently resting on her hips as he breathed out a sigh.
“Is she okay?” she asked gently.
“Yeah they sedated her.” He said as he pulled away.
“I’m so sorry Steve.”
“What for?”
“Peggy…it’s so unfair.”
“Yeah…” He replied simply. And it was. He wished things could be different, that Peggy wasn’t ill. That she could be home, with her family, living out the last years of her life with the dignity she had lived the rest of it. She deserved more. He looked over the car roof across the street and watched for a second, everyone milling about their business, getting on with their lives. Like he was, and whilst he wished things had been different for Peggy, he suddenly found himself thinking and wondering if he would change anything if he could.
He felt Katie still in front of him, reacting to the fact he himself had changed posture, and as he looked down at her he was suddenly struck with the answer to his question. Despite everything, despite his sudden feelings of nostalgia sparked by the events of the last twenty hours or so, no he wouldn’t. Because whatever had happened, every action, every decision, it had led him to the girl now in his arms, and he loved her so fucking much it hurt. Yeah he had loved Peggy, he still did in some ways, but it was nothing compared to this. Nothing.
He reached out and took Katie’s hands, pulling up her arms so they were round his neck, pulling her closer to him as his own hands joined at the bottom of her back
“I love you.” He said gently, needing her to understand, to believe him. “My best girl.”
“I hope I’m your only girl, Rogers.” She sassed back with a sniff, and he smiled softly, happy that she understood.
“How about we head back to mine and not leave the flat for the entire day tomorrow?” Steve looked down at her, the idea suddenly coming to him and her face lit up. Katie loved lazy days. It was rare Steve was in the mood for them, his incessant energy normally meant he had to be doing something. But on the odd time he agreed, it usually involved them staying in bed till about midday, then watching old movies on the TV under a blanket on the couch, maybe a bit of fooling around and then calling a take out before retreating back to bed. Right now that sounded like a damned fine idea. “Can you clear your diary?”
“Consider it cleared.”
“I just wanna make one quick stop on the way home” He suggested, his journey of contemplation was leading him to one more place. He glanced at his watch before planting a kiss on her lips as she looked at him questioningly. “Thought we could pay our jogging friend a visit.”
********
“Look who it is. The running man and his pretty girl.” Sam joked slightly as he came over to the doorway where Katie and Steve were stood.
“Hey.” Katie smiled as he dropped a kiss onto her cheek.
“Caught the last few minutes. It’s pretty intense,” Steve commented as Sam shook his hand.
“Yeah, brother, we all got the same problems. Guilt, regret,” Sam shrugged. As his sentence went on his voice got more serious and softer.
“Have you lost someone?” Steve asked, perceptive as ever. Katie mentally cursed herself for not filling him in fully, but Sam didn’t seem too bothered to talk about it. He nodded gently.
“My wingman, Riley. Fly in the night mission. A standard PJ rescue op, nothing we hadn’t done a thousand times before, till an RPG knock Riley’s dumb ass out of the sky. Nothing I could do. It’s like I was up there just to watch,” Sam paused to cross his arms over his chest, his posture slightly tense. “After that, I had really hard time finding a reason for being over there, you know?”
“But you’re happy now, back in the world?” Steve asked
“Hey, the number of people giving me orders is down to about zero. So, hell, yeah,” Sam joked, loosening up slightly, before getting a bit serious, “You thinking about getting out?”
“No.” Steve replied quickly before he took a breath. “I don’t know. To be honest, I don’t know what I would do with myself if I did.”
“Ultimate fighting?” Sam shrugged and Steve laughed as Katie snorted. “It’s just a great idea off the top of my head. But seriously, you could do whatever you want to do. What makes you happy?”
Steve turned his head to look at Katie, an unconscious movement, smiling gently as he shrugged. “I dunno…”
“Oh I think you do.” Sam said, smirking slightly as Steve placed his hand on the small of his girl’s back.
“Oh, stop by the front desk on your way out,” Katie turned to Sam, smirking, and he raised an eyebrow in question,
“We asked for you by name.” Steve clarified.
“She seemed thoroughly impressed.” Katie finished. Both of Sam’s eyebrows rose at that and he looked down the hallway towards where the front desk was.
“You two are the best.” A smile stretching across his face as he began to turn to head down the hall. “Stop by anytime.”
“No problem.” Steve grinned in amusement as Sam jogged his way down the hall.
It was gone eight by the time they got home, having made a pit stop for a beer on the way. Steve held the door open for Katie, and she stepped into the apartment building and started to climb the stairs in front of him, giving him a quite pleasing view of her ass as her hips swayed side to side in front of him.
“Sam’s right you know.” She continued their discussion from the bar. “And so is Peggy.”
“What about?”
“If you wanted to get out you could do, start over.”
He took a deep breath. “I don’t know what I want, but spending the rest of my life playing janitor for Fury is not it.”
“I can write you a resignation note.” She grinned and Steve chuckled slightly and then took a deep breath.
“You know, it’s funny when I think about it. Us, stuff, what we’ve done and how far we’ve come in a year.”
“You’re saying it like it’s a bad thing.” She teased as she stepped onto his landing.
“No, that’s not what I mean at all.” He took a deep breath as she headed towards his door and turned to face him “You know, I’ve never really talked to anyone or shown them about my past in detail or introduced anyone to Peggy bar you.”
“Well I am your girlfriend.” She shrugged, holding onto the hand that wasn’t digging into his jeans pocket to fish out his keys. “Your best girl.” At that he smiled. “So you should be able to talk to me about anything.”
“I know, I’m not explaining myself very well.” He remarked, finally succeeding in obtaining his keys. And he wasn’t. He was trying to tell her that he couldn’t imagine his life without her, that he wanted her to share his everything, including his home.
“Spit it out Rogers.” She teased as he slid the key into the lock.
He took a deep breath. “Coming home last night and you being there…and then this morning…it was perfect, Doll, and I want that all the time.” He turned to face her leaving his key hanging from the door. “How would you feel about us maybe moving in together?”
She paused for a moment, looking at him, realising he was deadly serious. She raised her eyebrow.
“I thought you came from a time where man and woman didn’t live together until they were married?”
“We could get married if you want.” He blurted out. That made Katie raise both eyebrows as she studied him again, her mouth dropping into a small ‘o’. Steve looked back at her, trying to keep his face passive, as if it had been a joke, even though he knew it wasn’t. He’d known for months she was the one.
But to blurt it out like that? Outside his apartment door, in such a dumbass way?
Way to go, Rogers.
Katie cocked her head to one side, there was a funny look on Steve’s face that she couldn’t place. But whatever it was, even if Steve was serious about them getting married, she knew him well enough to understand that was not how he would want to propose, and that he was probably kicking himself about stumbling it out the way he had done. So she broke the nervous tension, as she always did, with a slight joke.
“You know, that’s not much of a proposal.” She slid her arms up around his neck. “But its one step up from you’d make a great housewife, I suppose.”
“Should I try again?” A cheeky grin spread across his face, glad the tone was playful, his arms circling her waist
“Yeah, with a big, fuck off Tiffany diamond.”
“I didn’t think you were so materialistic?”
“Well, you know what they say? Diamonds are a girls’ best friend.”
“And there I was, thinking it was me.” He muttered, his lips pressing onto hers.
“That’s so sweet!” A voice interrupted and they both turned to look at Kate, his neighbour from over the hall. For a split second Steve thought she was talking to them but it soon became apparent she was on the phone. “That’s so nice…but hey, I gotta go…okay bye…”
She dropped the phone into the basket of laundry she was carrying before grinning at us both “My aunt, she’s kind of an insomniac”
Steve smile before looking at the basket of washing in her arms as he dropped his arm round Katie’s shoulder “you know if you want…if you want, you can use my machine. Might be easier and cheaper than the one in the basement.”
“Thank you, but I already have a load in downstairs actually, and you really don’t want my scrubs in your machine.” She grinned. “I just finished a rotation on the infectious diseases ward, so,”
“Ah, well, we’ll keep our distance,” Steve grinned, holding his hands up, palms out.
“Hopefully not too far.” She chuckled. “Don’t want to lose my best neighbour. Okay, well I better be off.” She turned to go before she stopped and spun back round to look at Steve. “Oh, by the way, I think you left your stereo on.”
“Right, thank you.” Steve watched her go, frowning. He looked at Katie as they both pressed their ears to the door. The record player was certainly on but…
“We definitely didn’t leave that on before.” Katie looked at him, as the gentle tones of Kitty Kallen Long Long Time hit their ears.
Steve held his finger up to his lips and gestured to the window, before leaving Katie where he was. He ran off, down the stairs as fast as he could and then he scaled the gate on the fire escape easily. Once he reached the steps which were parallel to his window he took a running jump, easily pulling himself up over the sill and into the kitchen area. Quickly and quietly he moved along the wall, picking up his shield which was leaning against the shelving unit. Holding it up, he cautiously peered round the corner of the room into the living area and instantly relaxed when he saw Fury lounging in a chair.
“I don’t remember giving you a key.” He said, somewhat sardonically.
“What, you really think I’d need one?” Nick replied. Steve shook his head and headed to the front door of the flat, pulling it open.
“Fury.” He said with a roll of his eyes, turning and walking back into the apartment.
“Huh?” Katie asked as she followed him into the living room, where the music was coming from, to see Fury sitting on the couch in the dark.
“What are you doing here?” She demanded.
"Nice to see you too, Nova. And in answer to your question my wife kicked me out.”
“I didn’t know you were married,” She continued, frowning. And she didn’t. And she wasn’t sure that he was.
“There are a lot of things you don’t about me,” Fury replied casually.
“I know, Nick. That’s the problem,” Steve grumbled walking forward as Katie remained where she was, eyes narrowed at her old boss. Steve flipped on the light switch, instantly recoiling in surprise when he noticed Fury’s injuries. Besides him Katie gasped slightly and moved to get closer to help but Fury indicated for her to stop and the both of them to stay quiet. He turned off the light again and typed something on his phone.
'EARS EVERYWHERE’.
Bugs? His apartment was bugged? By who? They both exchanged a glance and instantly Katie looked up and around the room, as if she expected to see a microphone glaring at them.
“I’m sorry to have to do this but I had nowhere else to crash,” Fury looked around a bit before he typed something else up on his phone:
'SHIELD COMPROMISED’.
Steve and Katie shared another glance, the pair of them wide eyed. This was bad.
“Who else knows about your wife?” Steve asked, keeping his voice even.
Fury showed them another text;
'YOU TWO AND ME’.
“Just my friends,” Fury grunted in pain while getting up and walking closer to them.
“Is that what we are?” Katie blinked at him. She still hadn’t completely forgiven the man for lying to them all about Coulson.
“That’s up to you.” Fury replied, his eyes darting from Katie to Steve.
Then out of nowhere came a rapid succession of gunshots. Steve quickly pushed Katie out of the way, the pair of them taking cover behind the kitchen wall as Fury groaned before he collapsed down to the floor. Steve scooted forward, keeping as low as he could, pulling him into the kitchen. Katie knelt next to him and tried to check his injuries through his black clothing when he reached up and handed something to Steve.
“Don’t, trust anyone,” he coughed before passing out. Katie and Steve both looked at what he had been handed and saw that it was a flash drive. Steve curled his hand around it and looked at Katie, but before either of them could say anything else there was the sound of someone breaking into the apartment. Steve quickly moved into a defensive position, in front of Katie and Fury, raising his shield.
“Captain Rogers?” a familiar voice suddenly called out and they watched as Kate, his neighbour, cautiously walked in with a gun pointed. “I’m Agent Thirteen of SHIELD’s Special Service.”
“Kate?” Steve frowned, shaking his head. He’d just about had his fill of surprises.
“I’m assigned to protect you.” She continued
“On whose orders?” Katie snapped.
Kate stopped as she spotted Fury lying on the floor. “His,” she dropped besides Katie, checking Fury for a pulse and then spoke into her radio
“Foxtrot is down, he’s unresponsive. I need EMTs.”
“Do you have a twenty on the shooter?” A SHIELD agent questioned through the radio.
Then there was a movement on the other side of the window, on the roof adjacent to the building. Steve instantly glanced up and saw a flash of silver and the shadow of a figure running across the rooftop.
“Tell them I’m in pursuit.” He said and with that he took a running jump and smashed straight through his window, and through into the office building opposite. Steve ran, keeping his eye on the man, smashing through walls, windows, anything in his way. Eventually he caught up with him on the roof and flung his shield at the assassin who, to Steve’s shock, caught it with one swift move in the hand of his metal arm. There was a pause as Steve could do nothing but eye the man with surprise before the shield came flying back. Steve caught it, with both hands on its rim but the force pushed him back a few yards along the gravel surface of the roof. By the time he had stopped the momentum moving him, the assassin had jumped. Steve ran to the edge of the building and looked down.
He was gone.
*****
“What happened?” Hill asked as they all looked through the glass window at the hustle and bustle of the operating room. Steve moved his arm from around Katie and took her hand in his, squeezing her fingers gently.
"He was at my apartment when we got home.” Steve started. “I hadn’t even had chance to ask why when there were two blasts, then another. Someone shot him through the window- three times. I tried to go after the shooter, but I lost him on the roof of the building across the street.”
Steve had no doubt in his mind that if there was anyone else in SHIELD they could trust right now it was Hill, but both he and Katie kept quiet. He had taken Fury’s warning of trusting nobody seriously and had told Katie as much as they had strode through the ED of the hospital. Both were aware that Hill was studying them, side on, her face stony.
“What aren’t you telling me?” She asked quietly.
“Nothing.” Katie answered for them.
Before Hill could drill either of them anymore, the door to the observation room flung open and heavy footsteps crossed the room, stopping at the other side of Katie.
“Is he gonna make it?” Natasha asked, almost inaudibly, staring through the window.
“We don’t know,” Hill mumbled.
“Tell me about the shooter,” Natasha whispered
“He’s fast and strong. And he had a metal arm,” Steve said, letting go of Katie’s hand to fold his arms across his chest and as he did, they both caught the look of recognition and slight fear on Natasha’s face reflected in the window.
“Ballistics?” She swallowed heavily.
“Three slugs. No rifling and completely untraceable,” Maria answered softly.
“Soviet made?”
“Yeah,” Maria looked at Natasha in shock. Steve turned to face her, as did Katie, but she didn’t look back. She stared straight through to the operating theatre but before Katie could ask what it was that she wasn’t saying, the operation room went into overdrive. Machines started beeping erratically, the doctors and nurses were rushing around the room and the panic was palpable even behind the glass. But they couldn’t save him.
“Time of death, 1:03 A.M.”
A few moments passed as the four of them stood completely in shock. Katie reached up to wipe a tear that had trickled down her cheek away, before Natasha turned and almost sprinted out of the room.
Steve pulled his hand out of his pocket, turning the flash drive that Nick had given him over in his hand. Nick had been killed because he knew whatever it was that was on that drive. What could possibly be so bad, so secret, so dangerous that the Director of SHIELD was deemed a threat for knowing? He glanced up at Katie who was watching him, tears in her eyes. She might have had her issues with Fury, but he was a good man and would never have wished him dead. With a sigh Steve placed the item back into his pocket and pulled her in for a hug.
******
A little later, they were all in the same room as Nick’s body. Natasha was by him, hardly having moved a muscle, almost like she was in shock. And it unnerved Katie. Nat wasn’t one to really show emotion but then again, Fury had meant a lot to her. The door opened and a doctor entered, speaking to Hill. She nodded and then walked over to Katie and Steve, coughing to clear her throat.
“They need to take him.” She said, her voice cracking slightly. Steve nodded and stepped forwards.
“Nat. Natasha…”
But at that she turned away from them all and made her way quickly into the corridor of the Hospital. Katie and Steve looked at one another, before they hastily followed her.
“Why was Fury in your apartment?” Natasha span around to ask Steve. Her eyes were filled with sadness, but Katie could also see suspicion etched on her pretty features.
“I don’t know,” Steve sighed shrugging his shoulders, and before the conversation could go on further they were interrupted by Rumlow.
“Cap, they want you back at Shield,” He informed them, gently touching Katie’s shoulder. “You too Nova.”
“Alright, give us a second,” Steve nodded dismissing Rumlow, perhaps a little more harshly than he intended, as he turned back to Natasha but Rumlow was insistent
“They want you now,”
“Alright” Katie spoke firmly but calmly. Rumlow nodded and then moved back down the hallway.
“You’re a terrible liar.” Natasha shook her head at Steve with her trademark smirk that didn’t reach her eyes before she turned and left.
“What the hell is on that drive?” Katie asked Steve after a moment of silence.
“I don’t know, but it’s what Natasha was saving data to on our mission the other day.” He replied before he looked up staring very focused into a vending machine to his right, which was open as a janitor filled it up. He didn’t want to take the drive back to the Triskellion, just in case. He knew that something wasn’t quite right.
Katie caught his eye before glancing around the hallway that was mostly full of SHIELD agents, luckily they were all congregated on the other end.
“Do it.” She nodded, figuring out his intention to hide the item “I’ll distract them.”
Without another look back at him, she began to stride forwards towards Rumlow.
“Its almost four am.” she glanced at her watch. “What do they want us for Brock? We already told Sitwell what we know and I don’t work for SHIELD anymore, remember?”
Rumlow shrugged “Honestly, I don’t know Nova. I’m just under instructions to get you both back to base.”
At that point Steve reached them, but he wasn’t stopping. Taking Katie’s hand he nodded to the STRIKE leader
“Let’s go.”
“Yeah,” Rumlow fell into step with them, fixing his earpiece. “Strike! Move it out.”
Steve drove to the Triskellion, Katie’s car flanked by the Armoured SUVs as they sped through the streets of DC. Katie dozed off for ten minutes and Steve let her sleep, lost in his own thoughts. He had expected her to be called in alongside him, especially after she had been, along with him, the last people Fury had spoken to him before he died. But he wasn’t happy about it, he wanted her as far away from whatever the hell was going on as possible. Once they arrived he gently shook her awake and the two of them were given an hour or so to grab something to eat. Neither were hungry, but they forced down their sandwiches, Katie’s brain working in overdrive as she did so. Something was nagging at her, and she was trying to make the connections, figure it out, but her head simply kept replaying Fury getting shot over and over.
“Foxtrot is down, he’s unresponsive. I need EMTs.”
“Do you have a twenty on the shooter?”
She frowned.
“What is?” Steve asked, coffee in his hand as he sat back on one of the large chairs in one of the common rooms by the kitchen area.
“Before…when Kate…Agent thirteen, whatever the hell her name is called back to base…she said Fury was down and needed EMTs…”
She paused and Steve waited, knowing how her analytical brain worked. She had to follow threads, talk them over or write them out, letting them weave together as she did. A look of comprehension crossed her face as the threads connected.
“Sitwell…” She whispered.
“What about him?” Steve asked.
“He was the one that replied, at least it sounded like him.” She bit her lip, but not in the seductive way that made his crotch twitch, the way she did when she was thinking “And he asked…do you have a twenty on the shooter.”
Steve frowned, not quite sure where this was going. “Okay…”
“Well, how did he know Fury had been shot? How could anyone know he had been shot?”
Now he understood. He understood completely. Damned it she was clever. “They couldn’t.” He sat up and leaned towards her, his voice dropping. “Not unless they were there or Kate…whoever, told them.”
“And she didn’t. She just said he was down and unresponsive.”
“Which means…” Steve began, but Katie finished for him.
“Sitwell knew about the hit. Because he was in on it.”
The both looked at one another, their faces wearing similar looks of shock. Fury was right, SHIELD was compromised. But how far, they had no idea.
Before Steve had chance to say anything else, the door opened and Rumlow stepped in
“Secretary Pierce is ready now guys.”
“Thanks.” Katie nodded, shooting Steve another glance as they both stood up.
“Not a word.” He mumbled as they got into the elevator “We say nothing, not until we figure out who we can trust.”
“If we can trust anyone.” She mumbled back.
*****
“Captain, why was Nick in your apartment last night?” Secretary Pierce looked at Steve as he sat on the couch next to Katie in the large office.
“I don’t know.” He answered in a soft voice.
“Did you know it was bugged?” Pierce pressed on.
“We did.” Katie nodded meeting the secretary’s eye. “Because Nick told us.”
“Did he tell you he was the one who bugged it?”
Steve took a breath and glanced at Katie, his expression stony but the two of them shared the understanding.
No, no he had not.
“I want you to see something.” Pierce continued, and gestured to a monitor just behind the couches we were sitting on. On the screen was a man tied down to a chair, he looked to be currently being interrogated. Katie didn’t recognise the man, but Steve did. It was Batroc, the lead merc from the hijacking of the Lemurian Star.
“Is that live?” Steve asked.
“Yeah, they picked him up last night in a not so safe house in Algiers.”
“Are you saying he’s a suspect?” Steve didn’t take his eyes off the screen “Assassination isn’t Batroc’s line.”
“It’s more complicated than that. Batroc was hired anonymously to hijack the Lemurian Star. He was contacted by email and paid by wire transfer, and then the money was run through seventeen fictitious accounts. The last going to a holding company that was registered to a Jacob Veech.” Pierce said handing Steve a folder.
“Am I supposed to know who that is?” Steve skimmed through the file offered to him in curiosity and confusion.
“Not likely. Veech died six years ago. His last address was 1435 Elmhurst Drive. When I first met Nick, his mother lived at 1437.”
“Wait,” Katie frowned as she gathered what Pierce was suggesting. “Are you saying Fury hired the pirates? Why?”
“The prevailing theory?” Pierce shrugged. “The hijacking was a cover for the acquisition and sale of classified intelligence. The sale went sour and that led to Nick’s death.”
“If you really knew Nick Fury you’d know that’s not true.” Steve replied strongly, and he believed it. Fury was a lot of things, but a traitor he was not.
Pierce nodded in agreement. “Why do you think we’re here talking?” He then got to his feet and began to walk towards the window. “See, I took a seat on the council not because I wanted to, but because Nick asked me to because we were both realists. We knew that despite all the diplomacy, and the hand shaking and the rhetoric, to build a really better world sometimes means having to tear the old one down. And that makes enemies.”
Steve didn’t like the way this was going. He looked at Katie and gestured for her to stand as he did. Pierce turned back around and looked at them both.
“Those people that call you dirty because you’ve got the guts to stick your hands in the mud and try to build something better. And the idea that those people could be happy today,” Pierce shoved his hands in his pockets. “Makes me really, really angry. Captain, you and Miss Stark were the last ones to see Nick Fury alive. I don’t think that’s an accident.” Pierce said matter-of-factly. “And I don’t think you do, either. So, I’m going to ask again was he there?”
“He told us not to trust anyone.” Steve said honestly.
Pierce made a humming sound. “I wonder, if that included him.”
There was a tense moment of silence before Steve spoke again. “I’m sorry. Those were his last words. Excuse us,” He turned to leave, picking up his shield that he sent down upon our arrival and attaching it to the harness on his back, before ushering Katie out of the room slightly ahead of him.
“Captain,” Pierce’s voice halted him mid step and he turned to look at him. “Someone murdered my friend. I’m going to find out why. Anyone who gets in my way is going to regret it.” Pierce’s voice rang out again, a pointed look in their direction.
Steve wasn’t a stupid man, and he knew that was a veiled threat. He took a deep breath, considering his response, before he decided appearing un-rattled was the best option.
“Understood.” He nodded, holding the door open for Katie to step through keeping himself between her and Pierce as he followed, anchoring his hand on her back to keep her moving.
“You should have lied.” She whispered.
“Huh?”
“Back then, said we didn’t know why Fury was there. By telling him that he told us not to trust anyone he knows we know and that we’re hiding something.” Her tone was a little panicked and Steve simply took a deep breath.
“We need to get to the hospital and get that stick.” He looked at her, remaining adamant that whatever it was that was on there would hold the answers. He looked up and down the corridor before they stepped into the elevator.
“Operations Control” Steve spoke as the elevator scanned his face and Katie’s Guest ID.
“Confirmed”
Just as the doors were about to close, Rumlow stepped in with two other STRIKE agents.
“Keep all STRIKE personnel on site” He was saying. Both the agents nodded and voiced their acknowledgement of his order. “Forensics.”
“Confirmed.”
“Cap, Nova…” Rumlow nodded to them both.
“Rumlow.” Steve acknowledged him as the doors closed and they started to descend.
“Evidence Response found some fibres on the roof they want us to see.” Rumlow turned his head to look at Steve. “You want me to get the tac-team ready?”
“No, let’s wait and see what it is first.”
“Right.” Rumlow turned back and Steve looked out of the side of the elevator, pondering what his next move was. Chase down the man responsible? The drive? The elevator stopped at the next floor and Rollins plus a few more SHIELD and Strike agents entered, Steve moving over slightly to allow them in.
“What’s the status so far?” Rollins was saying.
“Administrations level” another one asked, before they continued whatever it was they were talking about, moving round to find a space behind Steve and Katie.
He noticed Katie look round, a frown on her face, but before he could say anything Rumlow spoke, looking over his shoulder at Steve.
“I’m sorry about what happened with Fury. Messed up, what happened to him”
“Thank you.” Steve nodded.
Katie could sense something was off. Years of training as an Agent didn’t just leave you when you quit, and those years of training had taught her very well to read body language. Rumlow was alert, too alert, and it was more than just a nervousness because Fury had been killed. There was an atmosphere in the lift, and she glanced at one of the agents that had joined them at the last floor. He was still talking, normally, but he there was a bead of sweat dripping down his cheek from his temple.
Steve could sense it too. He watched as Rumlow and Rollins exchanged a glance and looked down at Katie who was watching him, nervous expression on her face. He shook his head gently, instructing her to keep calm.
The elevator stopped and another agent entered.
“Records”
This one stood in front of them, facing the elevator doors and it was then with a slight air of exasperation at allowing it to happen, Steve realised they were surrounded. Whilst he wasn’t too concerned, he knew he could more than likely fight his way out, it was his girl he was bothered for. It had been months since she had been in active combat, and this was going to be brutal. Besides him Katie stiffened, feeling very underprepared for what was about to go down. She had no weapons, nothing. Instinctively Steve gripped her hand and pulled her forward so she was stood next to him instead of behind and moved his feet apart slightly, hands on the buckle of his belt, adopting his Captain stance, preparing for what was coming.
“Before we get started,” he sighed, looking down before he stared straight ahead, “does anyone want to get out?”
His eyes flicked to the back of Rumlow’s head. There was a moment’s pause before all hell broke loose. They both put up a good fight, ducking, diving, punching. Steve was then shocked with a baton, but he simply grit his teeth, absorbing the electricity into his body. It hurt, but it wasn’t unbearable. And then, three of them managed to snap one of his arms to the wall of the elevator using some kind of metallic clamp, before five of them piled on him at once, attempting to pin his other arm in too. He kicked out, taking down as many as he could.
Just as Katie had floored the second of the agents who had launched at her, she was grabbed from behind by her hair and hauled to the edge of the elevator, being wrestled roughly to the floor by Rumlow who was instantly on top of her, trying to get her wrists from where she had positioned them underneath her body in an attempt to stop them restraining her.
"Brock…” She spoke gently, looking at him as she swallowed. “What’s going on?”
“I’m sorry Stark.” He shook his head. “Just following orders.”
“Yeah well follow this.” She snarled, the anger brewing in her as she jerked her head forwards as hard as she could, feeling it connect with his nose. He yelled, and then her head snapped painfully to the right as he back handed her straight across the face. She felt her lip split and the warm, metallic taste of blood hit her taste buds, stars flashing in front of her eyes as her ears began to ring from the harsh knock.
Steve saw Rumlow land the blow to Katie’s face and let out a growl of anger and aimed another kick at the final agent standing, causing them man to collide with the side of the elevator before slumping down. He turned, pulled on his arm as hard as he could, wrenching the cuff off the side of the elevator and looked up in time to see Katie, who was now pinned against the wall by another set of those damned cuffs, take a blow to the ribs from Rumlow causing her to cry out in pain.
“Rumlow!” Steve yelled causing the man to whip his head round, surprise on his face. Katie, using her arms as leverage, swung her legs upwards, kicking Rumlow with both feet. The STRIKE leader stumbled slightly as Steve snarled at him, his entire body and face alight with rage “Touch my girl again and I’ll fucking kill you.”
Rumlow got to his feet, holding one of his arms out, electric rod in his hand “Whoa, big guy. I just want you both to know, this ain’t personal.”
He then lunged at Steve with his electric rod but one on one Steve was easily able to defend himself, he moved to the right, dodged and grabbed Rumlow, throwing him harshly upwards where he crashed into the ceiling of the elevator, before falling to the floor, unconscious.
“Yeah well, it kind of feels personal” Steve said, his breath slightly ragged from the exertion. He used his foot to flip his shield over like a Frisbee, catching it perfectly.
“You alright?” Steve asked, stepping over the bodies that littered the floor of the elevator to get to Katie.
“Yeah.” She assured him. Steve cut the cuffs that were restraining her into two pieces with his shield and she bent over, his hands gently on her back as she rubbed at her side before straightening up and stalking over to where Rumlow was beginning to stir slightly. She kicked him hard in the face, causing him to flip backwards and he was out, unconscious.
“Nothing personal.” She spat, then looked up at Steve. There was a moment during which they both looked around, trying to make sense of what had happened, before the elevator doors opened and Steve pulled Katie sharply behind him. They both stared at a team of STRIKE agents pointing their weapons into the elevator. Steve raised his shield.
“Drop the shield! Put your hands in the air!”
Steve looked round, and spotted the elevator wires to the left of Katie’s head
“DUCK!” he yelled at her, and as she did, he swiped with his shield over her head sending them plummeting. Eventually the emergency brake systems kicked in and the elevator stopped, slightly misaligned with the doors by a few feet. As Katie bent down to retrieve a gun and some ammo off one of the Agents, Steve forced the door open, intending to climb out but more STRIKE agents were approaching. He closed the door again and looked at Katie, then around the glass walls, looking down below us at the glass roof of the main Triskelion atrium.
It was a long way but they could make it.
“You’re fucking kidding, right?” Katie exclaimed, realising exactly what he was thinking.
“Give it up, Rogers! Get that door open! You have nowhere to go!” came the yell from the floor outside the elevator door.
“Do you trust me?” Steve asked, both his hands cupping Katie’s face.
“Of course I do, but…”
“Then hang on…”
She sighed and jumped onto his back, swinging her legs round his waist and her arms round his neck. Steve raised his shield in front of him, before he propelled them forward and broke through the glass in the elevator, spreading his arms out wide as he fell to prevent them from tumbling through the air before tucking his body as tightly in to his shield as he could. Katie did the same, burying her head into his back as they crashed through the glass ceiling and hit the floor with a loud clang, to screams and shouts from people all around the atrium.
Katie gave a soft groan, rolling off Steve who moaned and stretched out, having been winded from the impact. But Steve knew they had to keep moving. With a monumental effort, he pushed himself up onto his knees, took a deep breath and offered his hand to Katie to help her stand. They both took a quick glance around before he started to run, pulling her with him. She stumbled slightly, but Steve kept hold of her, not letting her fall until her legs seemed to be working again.
And then they ran.
****
Chapter 15
**Original Posting**
#stark spangled banner#steve rogers#Katie Stark#steve rogers x ofc#steve rogers x original female character#steve rogers fanfiction#steve rogers fic#mcu#mcu fanfic#captain america#chris evans#chris evans characters
64 notes
·
View notes
Text
(interview) vogue korea april issue 2020 - perfect taemin
1. superm was another chance for taemin’s ever-evolving performance to be showcased.
i thought a lot about how to create synergy with these exceptional performers. to put it simply, i wanted us to come off as energetic. but these days i’ve had a change of heart. our identity is definitely important. rather than just working hard, for superm to show off their colours well we need to show our personalities; we should be seen as one team. to be able to formulate a solid and clear colour is our homework. that’s why it’s regrettable. we couldn’t come up with a novel choreography to carry our new identity. we tried a lot in the practice room. superm seems to have found its musical identity but hasn’t gotten a hold of its performance character yet. the stages are too vague.
2. now that you are finally promoting with your best friend kai in one group, you two must’ve shared your concerns.
since this friend is someone who has a lot of passion and ambition, he talks about various things. for instance, this style is pretty good, this choreography is quite trendy. thanks to him i’ve learned a lot. he is also very knowledgeable about the latest ‘hottest’ genres. we talk about these things often and even watch videos together. kai gives off ‘popular’ vibes. compared to him, my interests are quite unusual. nowadays kai is interested in music while i am into science.
3. is it science fiction?
these days we’ve been watching videos on the theory of relativity and quantum mechanics together.
4. what aspect of it interested you?
originally i was very curious, after seeing a recommended video on youtube i learned about quantum mechanics for the first time. i couldn’t understand the explanation, even those who were explaining it said it was a difficult concept. that was very fascinating to me. kind of like magic.
5. are you reading books on the subject too?
the subjects of the books i read are different (laughs). there’s a book that was published long ago called ‘regarding the pain of others.’ it is a pessimistic book that gathers contradictory opinions of people for instance ‘people find joy in the pain of others, it is instinctual.’ as a celebrity, there are times when you are criticized but there are also times when you receive comfort from people. rather than blaming others, while reading this book, i began to think ‘people are like that, at most i shouldn’t behave like them.’ my interests are all over the place.
6. what makes you and kai click?
we converse well. our opinions almost never clash and we respect each other. moreover, we fully understand our own roles in superm.
7. what position do you hold in superm? since i can’t ask if it’s the main dancer.
in pictures and interviews, i’m the center. baekhyun hyung is the leader (laughs).
8. when the conversation wasn’t flowing well during the talkshow interview, i saw you neatly concluding it.
that does happen. nct and wayv are still in the learning phase. that’s why i first listen to all of their thoughts during interviews then flesh it out with details later.
9. compared to when you set out abroad as shinee then promoting overseas as superm now, the status of k-pop has changed.
looking at how superm was able to start off with an arena tour in the us and europe made me feel that k-pop is a ‘hot’ topic. in the past, we’d use venues of this scale for smtown concerts. even if you promote mainly in asia, seeing the audience section will make you realise the perception of k-pop has changed.
10. though k-pop’s scope has expanded and diversified, its definition has become simple. what are your concerns?
my first concern is language. after i was able to communicate via language during my japanese activities, there were so many advantages. though each country overseas has its own language, i felt that i needed to learn english first. there are many international fans who want to experience the chemistry between our members, they’d feel much closer to us if we communicated using (a common) language. k-pop isn’t one dimensional. it’s not only about the music, there is music video, style, etc. included. people would make dance covers in the past, now they even emulate the styling. all of this is korean pop culture.
11. superm were on the ellen degeneres show and jimmy kimmel live.
before we went on the ellen show we really rehearsed the interview a lot. america’s atmosphere is different so you receive questions that are never asked in korea. they don’t disclose the questions in advance either. we were also worried because the emcee could ad-lib. we came up with the most probable questions and practiced, we also received lessons from american comedians. compared to that, we went on jimmy kimmel live without any prep.
12. what went according to plan and what didn’t?
the questions were not as intense as expected, ellen was well aware about k-pop culture so it went smoothly.
13. is there a dance genre you’re into these days?
contemporary, lyrical hiphop, in the future as superm i think i’ll be able to show more, not the kind of dancing that you do after learning a given choreography but the kind that is full of emotions. it’s about giving meaning to your gestures. it isn’t out yet but my concert vcr features lyrical hiphop. in it i think i’m dancing alone with a giant full moon as my backdrop but get confused when there are two of us, either it’s another person or a shadow. a choreographer with a body type similar to mine had to dress in all black to come across as my shadow. i wore an oriental outfit with smokey makeup.
14. how do you usually come up with your ideas?
i get inspired by the choreographers and creative directors. i imagine it as we converse then the idea develops.
15. was there a time you were inspired by fashion?
of course. art begins with the five senses. what you see with your eyes, the things you can feel, clothes, food, perfume, music that you listen to are all sources of inspiration. i create private accounts to follow fashion brands.
16. having debuted at the age of 16, you are still young but your work experience has been long.
i was in certain situations because of this. it doesn’t happen as often now but even in my early 20s, i completely belonged to the senior category at broadcasting stations. they are my juniors but many of them are also hyungs, i’m their senior but i’m also the youngest. now there are even staff members who are younger than me. they’re too formal with me (laughs).
17. are there juniors that ask you for advice or help?
the superm members! especially ten, he is very curious. when we come out of a company meeting, he’ll get surprised and say “wow, hyung everything you said was right.” i even hear things like ‘veteran’ and ‘seer.’ apparently my predictions come true. but i try not to advise them as much. taking the initiative to say something feels overwhelming.
18. born in 1993 between millennials and gen z, do you share any characteristics with those in your age bracket? we’ve picked out a few of their traits. the first one is ‘they don’t eat fast food.’
me too! i took care of my health well ever since i started out with shinee. i was brainwashed from home to avoid foods that harmed the body. not even ramyeon, snacks were also banned. and just like that in my 20s i started carrying out the regime on my own. it’s become a habit to look after my health ever since i moved out. i always eat things that are good for my body, if the hyungs are taking vitamins, i’d ask for one too.
19. i suddenly recall a variety show where you were the only one who skipped the sauce and ate the meat on its own!
one should not eat irritable foods. my mother’s words.
20. how about ‘they watch videos on youtube rather than tv. even the ads don’t particularly bother them.’
that’s right. i watch youtube more often than tv, while watching the ads i'd even marvel at their production quality. i’ve signed up for the premium package now so i don’t see the ads anymore.
21. ‘marrying or wanting to buy their own house.’
i currently live alone and i have no interest in decking out my house. at first, i didn’t think like that but a month later my interest dissipated. i’m lazy. it’s not like my house is for others to see, i’m fine with the incomplete feeling for now.
22. and finally ‘they avoid investing in financial companies.’
i don’t do that. my parents manage that, if there’s a good tip i’ll just let them know.
23. hiphop musicians tend to express their success through music. as an idol musician how have you been using the wealth you accumulated all these years?
i invest in food instead of saving up (laughs). honestly, i don’t spend much. i don’t have anything i want. though i do spend on others a lot.
24. what kind of household did you grow up in? what gifts did you inherit from your family as a musician?
i inherited my body type. all of my cousins have model-like physiques, they’re taller and slimmer than me. my mother sings well. my father plays instruments as a hobby. oh, and my paternal aunt used to be a ballerina. so perhaps i inherited such genes?
25. you’ve been doing the same thing for more than 10 years. what is the purpose behind creating music and showcasing it?
in the past, i would think i should do well, i need to be number one, these days i’ve become ambitious for other aspects. i take pride in the fact that my work supplies others with positive energy. i feel a sense of accomplishment when fans like my music, i want to make them as happy as i am. everyone’s profession is different but i hope this synergy gained from mutual dependence leaves a good impression.
26. are you still composing songs?
i used to but now i only participate in lyric writing. it differs with each song, at times the lyrics are emotional or talk about abstract love. it seems like my next solo album will include a song i wrote the lyrics to. sometimes songs composed by overseas composers might prove too difficult for the general public to understand. so i participate a lot in the arrangement or mixing phase. i point out the parts that should be added to the composition and those that are unneeded. teacher lee soo man does give advice but it often feels like i do the producing of my own solo album.
27. taemin’s originality is the clearest when he promotes as a solo artist. which song has best represented your identity?
i worked hard on all of them but there was a turning point. at first there was ‘danger’ then ‘press your number’ was a conceptual performance, the transition to ‘move’ turned out well. i wanted to break out from the typical choreography routine and create my own identity, the resulting performances were ‘move’ and ‘want.’ my next solo album is again different. i’ve been making a lot of changes these days.
28. you seem to have high standards when it comes to composing music. was there ever an occasion where you absolutely refused to compromise and gave others a hard time?
everyone is used to it (laughs). it’s something i learned from the head manager hyung who’s been with me since debut. the belief that ‘there is nothing that can’t be done. there is no such thing as impossible.’ another team manager hyung would tell me ‘you remind me of our head’ (laughs). honestly, the staff around me work beyond their given roles and with affection. normally work timings are from 9 to 7, they stay back till 10-11 pm for me. they don’t hold it against me, and when things do well, they too feel a sense of fulfillment together with me.
29. the new unreleased song must be quite different from the original then.
there are already 12 versions of the song. when i thought we were somewhat done, we recently started arranging it again (laughs).
30. you hold your body to specific standards for the best performance outcome.
i don’t ‘bulk up.’ previously, i used to work out when i ate a lot but my body would feel weighed down, it wasn’t what i wanted. if i gain a lot of muscles or become thick, it hampers my dancing form. that’s why i don’t put on weight. i train my stamina and strength and avoid bulking up my shoulders and arms.
31. by the way, do you do neck exercises as well? i was touched looking at your long neck in the vogue photoshoot.
i had been noticing this too, now i know the reason! i think it’s because i dance. a lot of resistance goes into the neck when you dance. our head is the heaviest and it’s the neck that supports it. it goes away when i rest for a few days. we’re shooting amidst the superm tour maybe that’s why it looks thicker now.
32. an editor who has been watching you closely for a long time said that you’ve become extroverted. could it be that experience and relationships have made you comfortable and secure?
i’ve lowered my guard. i couldn’t reveal my current self to others before. as a child i used to be so introverted that i’d hide behind my mother when strangers would get into the elevator. i changed with time.
33. is your ever-present smile a product of your personality or just business decorum?
i’m always smiling. i even laugh at things other people don’t find funny (laughs).
34. shinee members are currently serving in the army. when they’re on break what kind of advice or nagging do they subject you to?
i wish they would do that. we have a group chat on kakaotalk and i always revive it by asking “what’s up” “happy new year.” but as soon as the conversation picks up they only talk about the army. when i inform them about an issue at the company they say “really?” then it’s military talk again. when i feel left out and tell them to stop, they reply with “you’ll understand when you get here.”
35. in your career as a musician, when do you feel the best?
when it’s time to reveal all that i’ve been preparing for so long! it feels different from finishing it. the first stage after debuting, shinee’s first concert, performing at tokyo dome, receiving the award... these are the moments that come to mind.
36. watching taemin grow for the past decade has been a huge source of strength. what are your dreams now?
there are many. first of all, once shinee comes back again, i want the entire group to give off a feeling of revival. usually after getting discharged, it’s hard to keep up with the next generation, i want to avoid that. i’ve imagined it all when the shinee members return. second, i want to perform a lot on various stages as a solo artist. superm topped the billboard 200 album chart, it’d be nice to enter the top 10 on the hot 100 digital chart as well.
37. you are really talented at setting goals.
i’ve gotten greedier. it’s just not for myself but i want to do it for the fans and members, even the staff. they become my driving force. i really am lucky. everybody works hard but i even get the recognition for it. come to think of it, i was given many opportunities and i worked hard to make the most of them, i’m really happy my efforts paid off in the end. i’m surrounded by good people. shinee, superm, many people fill in the gaps for me that i can’t solve on my own.
38. superm’s concert title is ‘we are the future.’ when you hear the word ‘future’ what are you reminded of?
first, it’s h.o.t. (laughs). future-oriented things come to mind like artificial intelligence, drones, 3d hologram concerts. then again, in the future, though people might be able to watch concerts through holograms, i think humans will not give up on the tasks they themselves can do. my work will still be the same in the future.
39. the reason you don’t write anything on instagram.
i don’t have anything to say yet (laughs). i don’t know if i should make my instagram cool or approachable. when fretting between writing a caption or using an emoticon, i just end up leaving it blank. actually i signed up after my manager hyung suggested that instagram would be good. so i’ve made one but i still don’t know what to upload. i get teased by the people around me for putting up selfies. i even took lots of pictures especially for instagram but...
40. did you not post the pictures? the point of instagram is real-time communication.
is that so! i didn’t know (laughs).
translated by romanceboys — take out with full credit
(source)
582 notes
·
View notes
Text
Words Not Said (But Still Heard)
Fandom: Thunderbirds
Rating: Gen
Genre: Family/Hurt/Comfort
Characters: Gordon, Scott
#fluffember prompt #14 - Song, which decided to be awkward because I’ve already done a few that could have fit this prompt earlier in the month and finding a new take was tricky. Even after I found a new one, it decided to spiral itself out of my control, because it could. I’m not good enough to write song lyrics, so the ones used here are borrowed from part of KEiiNO’s “Spirit in the Sky”.
Gordon didn’t remember much about his time in the hospital, but he remembered the song.
Scott had done a lot for them over the years, some more obvious than others but all appreciated just the same. When they’d lost Mom, and then Dad, he’d stepped up into far more of a parental role than he should have ever had to take on, and while Gordon knew none of them ever mentioned it, they were all keenly aware of that fact.
But perhaps they should mention it from time to time. They’d grown up secure in the knowledge that Scott was always there for them, but sometimes he wondered if Scott knew that they were also there for him. Knowing Scott and his reluctance to lean on anyone, it was unlikely. Maybe he’d accepted that John wasn’t going to back down without a fight, and Virgil had inherited the same smother-genes, but Gordon knew for a fact that neither he nor Alan were expected to do any supporting of their eldest brother.
Too bad for Scott, but Gordon wasn’t going to sit back and let him suffer in silence when there was something he could do about it.
He didn’t have many memories of weeks immediately after the hydrofoil crash, not least because he’d been comatose for much of the time. There were months, even, where his memory was patchy at best, a whirlwind of treatment and hospital and therapy with an underlying current of terrified family beneath it all.
What he did remember was the song.
It was one Mom used to sing, a lullaby that pacified whichever son it was aimed at – a song of hope and reassurance that no matter what, everything would turn out fine in the end. Mom was several years gone, and Alan had grown up knowing it in Scott’s voice, big brother turned parent to a toddler who didn’t understand why Mommy wasn’t around anymore.
Gordon had been more of Virgil’s responsibility, back then. Insomnia had been soothed by his immediately bigger brother’s melodic voice and instinct for music. Scott had had his hands too full with Alan, then.
But it wasn’t Virgil’s voice he remembered as he’d drifted in and out of awareness, all those months in the hospital. Rough and pained but hopeful, it was Scott that had held his hand and sung to him, reaching him in a way that nothing else truly could.
Gordon wasn’t sure if he’d ever thanked Scott for that. He didn’t know if Scott knew he’d heard it, let alone remembered it when the whole traumatic experience was locked up securely in the depths of his memories, to be revisited hopefully never.
If there was ever a time to let him know, it was now.
A rescue gone wrong, broken bones and so many painkillers he was barely lucid when he was conscious. Virgil had been sent home by John, putting his Big Brother foot down in a way he rarely did, after too many consecutive nights and days by Scott’s bedside, waiting for signs of recovery. Alan was similarly squirrelled away, all three of them determined that he didn’t need to see Scott like this.
John and Virgil had tried that on Gordon, too. They’d backed down when he reminded them of his own hospital stints and made it crystal clear that he wouldn’t leave Scott now the tables were turned. No amount of Big Brothering from either of them was enough to overrule that. Scott could have, but Scott was in no condition to make anyone leave (he’d tried, in his brief moments of lucidity, but it was painfully obvious that while he said they didn’t need to stay with him, he didn’t really want to be left alone).
So here Gordon was, sat in a plastic visitor’s chair pulled as close to the bed as he could get it, with Scott’s limp hand held in his. He didn’t know if Scott was aware, or if he’d drifted off again, carried on a wave of painkillers and the haze of pain they couldn’t entirely banish. It didn’t matter, anyway.
Gordon had never sung it himself; he’d heard it from Mom, Virgil, Scott all those times in the hospital, and even John on rare occasions, but never sung it himself. That didn’t matter, either. He’d heard it so many times he knew it by heart.
Can't you stay
Stay with me into the night?
Stay, I need you close
You can go back when the sun rises again
Just stay tonight
Just stay
I see your spirit in the sky
When northern lights are dancing
I hear you calling me at night
Whenever wind is blowing
I can see your spirit in the sky
When northern lights are dancing
I'll follow you until the daylight
Show me the way
'Cause I am dancing with the fairies now
They all sing our name
I got my light here
Shining here
The hand he held twitched, an aborted movement, and Gordon glanced down at it as he sang, caressing long calloused fingers and watching as they moved again, stronger than before.
“I see your spirit in the sky
When northern lights are dancing”
Startled at the sudden accompaniment, he found Scott’s face again. Blue eyes were open and looking at him, mouth pulled into a grin he could almost describe as smug, although the look in his brother’s eyes was more understanding than anything else. His voice was raspy with sleep and pain, and nothing like the strong yet quiet voice that had sung to Gordon in the past, but as always, when Scott put his mind to something, nothing was going to stop him.
And Gordon couldn’t say he didn’t like singing with his brother. It was a rare enough occurrence as it was, what with their hectic lives – and Virgil’s general monopoly on anything music (not that Gordon was complaining about Virgil’s singing, because he absolutely was not).
“I hear you calling me at night
Whenever wind is blowing
I can see your spirit in the sky
When northern lights are dancing��
With the end of the song, Gordon lightly squeezed his brother’s hand, and managed a smile when Scott returned the gesture, if with less strength.
“I never knew if you heard me.” Scott’s confession was just as quiet and raspy as his singing had been. It was a vulnerability he didn’t often let himself show, and Gordon wondered if it was the song that had broken through his mask. He didn’t ask.
“It’s the only thing I remember,” he admitted instead, to widening blue eyes. “Guess I never told you that, huh?” He squeezed his hand again.
“No,” Scott murmured. “You didn’t.” He sounded a little melancholy, even sad, despite returning the squeeze with another weak one of his own. I guess I never thanked you, either, sat on the tip of Gordon’s tongue, but he swallowed them back. He knew his brother enough to know he wouldn’t want to hear that – not now, and maybe not ever. Scott never wanted to be thanked for caring about them, even when he went above and beyond anything that could reasonably be expected of him.
Instead, he let a grin cross his face. “Well, Virgil’s not here, so it’s a one time offer of a performance by yours truly,” he proclaimed instead. “If you’re lucky, I’ll even take requests!”
The eye roll was immediate. They both knew Scott wouldn’t request anything. They both also knew Gordon would sing anything if he did.
“You just lie back and heal,” he continued, “and I’ll provide the entertainment.” Scott had the cheek to groan, but he didn’t say no and that was enough for Gordon to delve into his mental bank of songs and start another one.
Scott wouldn’t accept a thank you in words, but there was more than one way to show it.
#fluffember#thunderbirds are go#thunderbirds are go fanfiction#tsari writes fanfiction#scott tracy#gordon tracy#thunderfluff
54 notes
·
View notes
Text
A Need So Great-Chapter 19
Summary: Eva Moore is assigned to work the last year of her contract with the DEA in Colombia. She just wants to get to the end of her tenure, but she keeps getting drawn further into a string of murders in the city. It isn’t long before she’s forced to face the ghosts of her past.
Word Count: ~4,600
Warnings: Smut.
A/N: For the purposes of this story, Carrillo isn’t married--or, if you like, divorced. A/B/O dynamics are prevalent, and they come with their own warning. The overall rating for this story is Explicit, although not every chapter will contain adult themes.
Taglist: @dirtynerdy98 @1zashreena1 @heresathreebee @deliciouslyclassytrash @maybege @kid-from-new-zealand @clydesducktape @revolution-starter @autumnleaves1991-blog @jedi-mando @buckysalefty @anaeve
Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 8.5, 9, 10, 10.5, 11, 12, 13 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 20, 21
She’s slipping on her heels when he calls out to her from the living room—Amorcita, are you ready? Eva shook her head and picked up her clutch, slinging the little chain over her arm and flicking off the lights as she moved through the house.
“Yes,” she said as she turned the corner, “I’m ready.”
He was buttoning the jacket of a deep navy blue suit, turning at the sound of her voice when she spotted him. It never failed. Never. Eva’s breath caught as she took him in. Broad shoulders that led down to thick arms that could hold her so tightly, hands that she had long since memorized the feel of as they skimmed over her skin, the focus of his eyes as he looked at her. She swallowed, smoothing down the folds of her dress.
Eva was wearing the red number that she’d worn to the last crime scene she would ever be a part of. It felt right that she should give it a new memory to live in. She had decided to make as many new memories as possible so that she could dissolve the hurtful ones that had controlled her since she was fourteen. So much had happened in the last year that Eva almost couldn’t wrap her mind around it. She went from being almost completely alone in the world to having friends, to having Horacio.
He was staring at her, eyes dark, taking in every detail. Eva let him look as she sauntered forward, rising up in her heels when she reached him to give him a chaste kiss. His arms encircled her waist, pulling her close.
“Maybe we should stay in,” he prompted, nose tracing down the line of her neck.
Eva squeezed his shoulders, shivering as his lips skimmed her skin, “You promised me a night out.”
He pulled back, considering, “I did make a promise.”
“You did,” she confirmed, toying with the hair at the nape of his neck.
“Then, we should go,” he replied, taking her hand and leading her to the door, “Before I decide to break that promise.”
Smiling like an idiot, she followed him out the door and into the darkening of the night. He took her to a little bar—bar was not the word. Eva didn’t have a word for what this place was. Small, so dimly lit that she was having a difficult time seeing clearly. The clientele were all dressed similarly, suits, cocktail dresses, heels, and ties. The décor was all dark wood and polished bronze, warm tones in all the fabric. It smelled a little liquor and a lot like spice and heat.
He led her to a table off to the side of the dance floor, a few couples already swaying to the sultry beat. Eva tucked her dress beneath her thighs as she lowered into the chair Horacio held for her. As was usual, she let him order for her, smiling wide when the wait staff brought forth a pair of tumblers filled with amber liquid. She watched carefully as he gave the waitress a few bills, tucked discreetly between his fingers.
Eva was struck was the fluidity of the action, something he probably did a lot as he bought and sold favors. Though she had seen quite a bit of his work in their time together—had glimpsed the ruthlessness with which he hunted down his targets—it still gave her pause. He did it almost without thinking, muscle memory as much as it was training and experience. Eva found herself continuing to watch him as he scanned the room, ever vigilant. Even now, when they were supposed to be relaxing and spending time together, the inherent threat of his work subtly pressed in from the outside.
With conscious effort, she put the subject away and focused on her drink. A small sip confirmed that he’d ordered the same thing that he’d ordered in the restaurant all those months ago, a whiskey he favored. It rolled over her tongue, burned fire down her throat. She’d had to nurse it, if she had any hope of staying upright in her heels.
“If you could go anywhere in the world, where would you go?”
She asked the question to get the answer as much as to start the conversation. He’d fallen silent during the ride over, his attention diverted by whatever he was thinking about. Eva’s flight out of the country was fast approaching and they’d discussed that he would be accompanying her to the meeting Javier had scheduled. It hadn’t gone much further than that, their lives lived one step at a time. Though Eva had spent nearly the last fifteen years doing that very thing, she found herself wanting to plan a little further out, to actually look forward to something in the future.
Horacio glanced at her, setting his glass down and thinking, “I liked Spain, when I was assigned there.”
She recalled that he’d mentioned spending time there, an assignment that he enjoyed until he’d been called back home to deal with the rising power of the cartel.
“Oh?”
With a nod, he continued, “It was...quieter, there.”
Eva hummed, “Quiet is good.”
“Quiet is different,” he offered, as a compromise, “But, the work was steady, and I didn’t get shot at half as much.”
Brows lifting, she prompted, “Half as much?”
His mouth curled a little, “At all. I didn’t get shot at, at all.”
“That’s a nice change of pace,” Eva replied, crossing her legs.
She liked how soft his expression was in that moment, the little smile he allowed to form on his lips. He’d been smiling like that more and more since they’d met, though it was not yet a daily occurrence. She hoped that it someday would be.
He gave a low chuckle, wordlessly agreeing with her. Then, “What about you?”
Her answer was reflexive, “I’m right where I want to be.”
That seemed to startle him. He stared for several long seconds, eyes unblinking. Eva held his gaze, unwilling to back down from her statement. It was true. She was exactly where she wanted to be—with him, here. It didn’t matter that she was probably still in danger from her former in laws. It also didn’t matter that her administrator may or may not have set her up to be killed. Eva was content to be sitting in a cozy little not-quite-bar, sipping bourbon that burned down her throat, next to a man who was looking at her as if he couldn’t quite figure her out.
Horacio lifted an arm, taking her hand as it lay on the table, holding it warmly. They sat like that for a while, listening to the band. When a low, slow beat started up, he stood and pulled her onto the dance floor. She followed with a smile, draping her arm over his shoulder and toying with the collar of his jacket.
He looked good in it, the dark blue contrasting with the lighter blue of his button down. The low light cast half his face in shadow, accentuating the sharp jawline, the pout of his lips. She couldn’t resist rising onto tip toe and kissing him quickly. He smiled into it, eyes crinkling at the corners.
Around them, she noticed a few turned heads, the eyes of curious onlookers. She’d gotten used to being a little bit of a curiosity, an American out of her element. These kinds of looks, however, were a bit newer for her, occurring more often when they went out in public. Narrowed gazes, jealousy shining in them, pointed in her direction. Eva ignored them, focusing on the man in her arms. Her hands spread out of his chest, fingers pausing over an unfamiliar bump in the cloth of his jacket. Brows drawing together, she peeked underneath.
“Do you think you’ll need this?” She asked with a lifted brow, her mouth half smiling.
Horacio sighed, “This is a new location for me. I wanted to be safe.”
Eva tapped her forefinger over the strap of the harness that was secured over both shoulders. Though she couldn’t see them, she knew there were a pair of hand guns tucked at his sides, ready if he needed them. This didn’t seem to be the kind of place where a gun fight would break out, but she agreed that safety was a priority, even when it was unlikely.
“Okay,” she said, eventually.
He looked away, hands flexing on her body. Eva hadn’t fought him on the body guards, hadn’t even argued when he ordered an officer outside of her apartment. Not arguing didn’t mean that she liked the fact that he had to be armed even on a date night. It just meant that this wasn’t the hill she was willing to die on—figuratively, speaking. Inherently, she knew that he wouldn’t give her an inch when it came to her safety. Even if he verbally relented, he’d just tell his men to hide better, so that she didn’t notice them. She’d rather know who was watching the house, and when.
They danced until the end of the song, but when they moved off the floor, their table had been taken by a group of people talking animatedly. Eva could see that he was going to approach, and she was reluctant to draw any further attention to them. So, she grabbed his arm and leaned her weight back to slow him down and direct him towards the bar. To her surprise, he went with her.
At the bar, he ordered another round and they spent some time talking and drinking. The music continued on, a low thrum that echoed the excited beat of her heart. She found herself leaning into him, touching his arm and thumbing the buttons on his jacket. He welcomed her touch, as he always did, eyes straying down her body from time to time, lingering on her legs.
Eva’s cheeks were warm, the feeling spreading down her neck and chest. Her skin felt too sensitive, sizzling when he touched her or when she brushed against his body. It was heady, knowing that he wanted her, knowing that she could have him whenever she wanted. An inhale told her that he was feeling it, too, his scent deepening slowly as time went on.
She caught another narrowed look from a woman at the far end of the bar. When she held the gaze a bit longer than would have been polite, the woman rolled her eyes and pushed away, heading into the crowd. Eva laughed derisively, draining her glass and setting it on the bar.
“What?” he asked, curious.
She shook her head, “Nothing, just a thought.”
All he did was lift a brow and she knew exactly what he was saying. She huffed, looking to the side and debating her words.
“I’ve been getting a few looks tonight,” she muttered, taking half a step towards him so that the skin of her thighs brushed the fabric off his slacks. “That’s all.”
He was immediately straightening, his head turning. Eva caught his chin quickly, keeping him from being too obvious about it. That was exactly what she did not need right now.
“Its fine. They’re not bad looks.”
And, they weren’t. Eva was proud that she’d garnered a little bit of envy that night, a testament to the man standing in front of her. She let go of his chin, smoothing her hand down his lapel.
Head tilting to the side, he asked, “What kind of looks are they?”
She bit her lip, chin lowered so that she could look up at him through her lashes, “Envy, mostly.”
His lips parted, brows furrowing. Eva shook her head and ran a finger down the little crease between them, smoothing the skin. Then, she pushed up a little and kissed his cheek, charmed by his confusion.
“You’re hot, sweetie. I’m bound to get a few evil eyes now and again.”
He huffed a breath, his expression a little boyish, “Thank you, but I think you’re maybe just a little biased.”
Eva rolled her eyes, “I might be biased, but that doesn’t mean I can’t see that you’re objectively gorgeous.”
He rolled his eyes and fixed her with a sardonic look, “I think ‘gorgeous’ might be going a little far.”
Pursing her lips, Eva decided that maybe he needed to hear the evidence. She leaned further into his space, chin tilting up to hold his gaze.
“Should I describe it for you?” When he went to say ‘no’, she pushed on, “I’m gonna start at the top, okay?”
Gently, Eva wrapped her finger around a curl that had fallen over his forehead, “You have the most adorable curls that you do your damndest to tame. I love how wild they are when you wake up in the morning.”
One side of his mouth lifted, not quite a laugh. A good sign. She kept on.
“You have the most expressive eyes. Even if I couldn’t read your scent, I’d be able to tell your moods just by looking at them.” Hand tracing down over his temple and behind his ear, “And, I think we’ve established that I could absolutely drown myself in your scent. Its part of why I love wearing your clothes.”
His hands were holding her waist, pulling her closer into his body. Eyes flicking down to her mouth, she could see his intent to kiss her. Not to be deterred, Eva leaned a little bit away, smiling at the little sound of frustration he made.
“And,” she continued, “Let’s not even talk about this mouth.” Her thumb traced over his lower lip, pushing just a bit into the soft pillow of flesh, “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve come just thinking about how deeply you kiss me—and where you kiss me.”
The hissing inhale was gratifying for Eva, as was the unchecked fire burning in his eyes. She was on the right track. She should definitely keep going.
Hands moving, she followed the line of his throat and over his shoulders, “I love how strong you are, I love how tightly these arms hold me.” Leaning in, she pressed a kiss to the hollow of his throat, left bare by the open buttons of his shirt, “I love it when you hold me down, make it impossible for me to move.”
Her name escaped his lips in warning, followed by a hard swallow. She shushed him lowly, fingers dancing down his chest to fall to the cool metal of his belt buckle. Angling her body, Eva blocked any onlookers from seeing how she turned her palm down and cupped him, half hard behind his fly. Against her side, she could feel the vibration of the groan he couldn’t keep inside. His hand encircled her wrist, keeping her from adding any further pressure or friction.
She looped her arm around his waist beneath his jacket. It was a little awkward, the bend of her elbow curving around the barrel of a pistol. Eva leaned as much weight as she dared into him, head tilted back so that he could read her expression.
“Big Guy, all I have to do is look at you and I want to feel this inside me. I can guarantee that anyone who looks at you is going to feel the same way.”
His eyes closed, jaw tight, and Eva knew she’d finally pushed him to his limit. Pulling her hand away, Horacio spun her around and guided her towards the door. She had to skip a little to keep up with his longer stride, but Eva could not keep the delirious little smile from her face as she followed him to the parking lot.
The ride home was tense. He was quiet, but the hand on her knee was firm and warm. Eva let the silence hang between them, feeling little tingles of anticipation rise ever higher as they got closer.
Once he had her inside, Horacio turned and pushed her against the door, hands cradling her jaw as he kissed her. He nipped at her mouth, sucking her lower lip to soothe the sting. Eva struggled to keep her balance as she soaked in the heat of his kiss, the sensual press of his body against her.
With a long, firm caress, he ran his hand down her side, fingers bunching her skirt until he had the mass of fabric balled in one fist. Using his free hand, Horacio gripped her hip, a rough sound escaping his lips as he discovered she hadn’t been wearing panties. Eva loved that he was always surprised, though she went without them regularly.
Face pushed into the crook of her neck, Horacio slipped his fingers through her folds, breathing hard. He groaned lowly as he spread the wetness around, encouraging her non-verbally to widen her legs a little. Eva balanced on her heels, head falling back to rest against the door. Her breath stuttered out of her as he circled her opening firmly, just once.
He played with her for a moment, breath hot against her neck. Slow, teasing touches that weren’t nearly enough. She grasped his forearm, using it as leverage to rotate her hips up and into his fingers. Head lifting, he kissed her. It was a harsh thing, almost a punishment, but she encouraged him nonetheless, her body responding excitedly to the prospect of more rough touches. Eva’s eyes closed tightly, a strange feeling rising in her chest.
It was hope. A warm, desperate hope—desperate for this man, desperate for the life she was building, desperate for the thing she wanted very much. Eva fought with herself trying to stay in the moment, trying to feel the way he tangled his tongue with hers, the way his scent sharpened with arousal, the way his fingers were sliding inside her.
She moaned, ending on a high pitched whine as he circled her clit with hard pressure. Gone were the teasing touches. Instead, he pushed her harder and harder with every thrust, fingers spreading out inside her and curling to rub at her g spot.
Legs shaking, Eva came with a hoarse shout, her hands holding onto his shoulders for dear life. He eased her down, praise falling from his lips. Horcaio held her close while she regained her footing, pressing little kisses over her forehead, her eyelids, her cheeks.
Then, he dropped to his knees, both hands on her hips, her dress draped of his wrists. Licking up the inside of her thigh, he said, “If you hit the floor, I’ll fuck you on it.”
Eva knees buckled reflexively, a laugh already forming even as he growled in frustration. He laid back, hauling her up his body. Eva went willingly, though her brows came together as he urged her higher. Walking on her knees, she settled with her thighs on either side of his head, his arms holding her steady from below.
He gave her maybe half a second warning before his mouth was on her. Still sensitive, Eva curled down over him, one hand gripping his hair, the other balanced on the arm across her thighs. Running the flat of his tongue from bottom to top, Horacio shook his head a little, spreading her folds. He kissed first one side, then the other, tongue rolling along the seam and adding an undulating pressure. Eva bit her lip, her hips swiveling. When he sucked hard on her clit, she keened lifting a bit when the pleasure burned at little too hot.
The hand holding her hip rotated, pushing up her sternum and between her breasts. He hooked his fingers in the center of her bra, using it to hold her down and against his mouth. Eva whined, the sensation of his stubble scraping against her inner thigh zinging through her. Her breaths came faster as he zeroed in on her clit, tongue circling over and over. He encourage her hips to rock against him, his arm pushing against her lower back.
The fabric of her dress kept her from seeing his mouth working her over, a fact that made the sound of him sucking and nipping at her all the more tantalizing. Feeling the orgasm grow closer, Eva gripped both of his arms, shuddering. It was shorter, less intense than the first, but it only seemed to urge him on. His mouth opened, drinking her down, tongue rubbing from side to side.
Heaving deep breaths, Eva tried to rise up, intending to slide down his body and reciprocate. She was stopped when his arms tightened to near the point of pain, keeping her right where he wanted. His low growl rumbled against her, causing a little aftershock of feeling.
Letting go of her bra, Horacio massaged down her belly to her hip to her knee. Thumb pushing into the soft skin behind it, he widened her stance even more. Eva’s legs shook as she tried to keep balance, the carpet digging into her knees and shins.
Slipping his arm underneath her, he pushed first two, then three, fingers inside, mouth locking on her. Eva gave a startled little cry, breaths stuttering. The feeling of him mouthing at her, arm holding her still had her ricocheting off the previous orgasm and stumbling into the next. Surprised, she couldn’t keep her weight underneath her, her thighs giving out.
In an effort to keep from suffocating him, Eva tried to push forward onto her hands. With a sound of censure, Horacio held her still, licking lazily at her still fluttering pussy. He let her go eventually, when he was sure that he’d gotten every drop from her. Boneless, Eva fell to the side, letting him roll her to her back.
“Good?” he asked, settling between her thighs and tucking her hair behind her ear.
Eva nodded, barely able to keep her eyes open, a soft warmth filling every corner of her body. He gave her a small smile, eyes twinkling with amusement. Eva scoffed, pushing at his shoulder a little, embarrassed. He caught her hand and kissed it, following up with a soft kiss to her wrist.
The smile on Eva’s face faded as she took in the adoration in his expression. He looked at her as no one ever had. With him, she was not a possession to be used, or a felon paying penance, or even an unbonded omega. She was just herself, that was all she needed to be.
Gaze soft, Horacio leaned down and kissed her. Eva closed her eyes, trying to keep the emotions she was feeling inside. Knowing that she was riding a thin line, Eva slipped her hands under his jacket, pushing to down and over his shoulders. He balanced on one hand and then the other, tossing the jacket away.
Resting his weight on her, Horacio pushed her dress up a little further, gathering it beneath her hips and tilting them up. Deep, intense kisses. Firm, warm caresses. He built her up slowly, pulling her along with him until she was arching up into his body, grinding against the erection at her hip.
Nimble hands pulled at his belt, opening his fly and pushing the fabric down. He rose up, reaching for his jacket and digging into the breast pocket. With a sound of victory, he pulled out a condom and tore into it, rolling it on with smooth, efficient movements. And then he was pushing inside.
He took his time, easing in and out, pushing just a bit further with each thrust. The movement was so controlled that the normal two or three pushes inward became six, the glide easy with how wet she was. Eva tucked her head into his neck, hands clenching in the fabric of his button up. When he pulled back and gave her a slow, full thrust, the air went out of her and her upper body collapsed against the floor.
Sensitive and flushed, she looked up at him. He was breathing deeply, sweat on his temples. She touched his cheek and he smiled, kissing her briefly. Leaning on his elbow, he dropped his forehead to hers, hips rotating. The pace mounted, his movements ending with a little grind that had her bowing up with the sensation.
They were sharing breaths, their bodies wrapped tightly together, heat bouncing back and forth between them. Eva gripped his biceps, chin tilting up, eyes squeezing shut as she hissed in a breath. A harsh sound escaped him, caught in that back of his throat as he reached down to grab her thigh, hauling her leg up and around his waist. The cool metal of the pistol at his side dug into the soft meat just above her knee, the little bit of pain adding to the frisson running all over her.
Eva gasped as he pushed deep, filling her to the brim and holding her suspended for just a moment. She bit her lip, watching him look at her with such affection that she could feel the urge to cry well up behind her eyes.
“I love you,” she said, the words out of her mouth before she could catch them.
She expected him to be taken aback, perhaps pull away and ask her what she’d said. She expected the he’d be surprised by the admission. He wasn’t. Horacio searched her face for a moment, then grinned at her, full-dimpled.
“Good,” he pronounced, as if he’d known all along. Then, “I love you, Eva.”
Ah, fuck, she thought, blinking as she tried very hard not to cry. He chuckled, kissing her sweetly. Unable to stand it, she grabbed at his collar and took a deeper kiss, lifting her hips to encourage him to move again. He moaned into her mouth, lips pulling back from his teeth.
Spurred on, he picked up the rhythm again, building to a faster, harder pace than before. Each forward rock of his hips intentionally pushed as far as he could go, as if he couldn’t get deep enough. Movements fluid, Horacio gripped the leg not wrapped around his waist and pulled it up and around, locking her ankles just above his ass.
Pushing to his hands, he snapped his hips against her, eliciting a squeak from her. Eva could only hold onto the wrinkled shirt in her hands as he changed the angle slightly. Pleasure careened wildly, her body clenching down, a squeeze that had him biting out a pathetically high whimper, his face scrunching. His hips faltered, arms shaking, breath stilling as he pulsed, coming hard.
He dropped to his elbows, hands in her hair. The kiss that followed was soft and sweet. Carefully, he pulled out, slipping the condom off and tying it off. They laid there for a few moments, staring at the ceiling. Eva’s head lolled to the side, looking at him in profile.
“You know, we haven’t packed yet for our flight.”
Horacio huffed a laugh, “Its a three day turn around. We won’t need much.”
Always with the practicality.
“Oh, yeah,” Eva replied, rolling her eyes, “I’ll just show up to the offices in my underwear.”
He lifted a brow, glancing sidelong at her, “I wouldn’t complain.”
Rolling to her side, Eva rested her head on her elbow, “You would. What you wouldn’t do is let me out of the hotel room.”
With a nod, he conceded the point. Sitting up, he pushed to standing and headed for the kitchen to toss the condom in the waste bin. Eva laid there and watched him unfasten the harness across his shoulders, setting it on the kitchen table. Pants hanging open, he made his way back to her and helped her stand.
“Hurting anywhere?”
She shook her head, “Although I’ll probably have a little rug burn. I’ll take it though.”
Shaking his head, he kissed her, fingers running through her hair, “I love you.”
Eva felt her chest constrict, unused to the feeling. She swallowed, her voice a rasp, “I love you, too.”
46 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
simpleboox-blog
Kat
fundafari
Live The Life You Love
jleighsworld
Sub looking for mistress
ofblaze-blog
ᴡɪʟᴅғɪʀᴇ;