#I MADE A FUCKING TYPO NOOO

[bonefall]

what IS Bramblestars worst name?

I think Stupidhead REALLY takes the cake here, like, most of them are at least passable, but Stupidhead backfired so hard that Bramblestar got made fun of for like a month

That's like, the Warrior Cats bad name equivalent of like,

[ID: Flaming blue skull typo meme, text reads, "TYPO in the group chat, you see this shit?? Now you went and fucked up!"]

The DAWNING horror of putting that name on Mousewhisker, witnessing him trying not to lose it, the wide-eyed amusement of the other cats in ThunderClan, the mood of the whole event going from solemn and shameful to hysterical

The EMBARRASSMENT, "ohhhh nooo"

[jellyaibo]

ok so disclaimer: i literally started writing this almost immediately after i woke up so there will be a bunch of typos which i dont bother fixing cuz im still very tired

had a dream where tpot 3 came out and i think it was 2 hours long and it was this HUGE bfdi finale video that had ALL the bfb characters (except…the tpot guys???? excluding 2 they were here at some point i think) i remember not watching the whole thing cuz it was fucking late at night so i skipped to near the end but right before i did there was this ?? intro to the episode where its just cary in front of a greenscreen thianking everyone who watched battle for dream island and when he said this an image was shown on screen that looked like the "I HATE CHOCOLATE" lady from asoingbob. anyways before ihe could continue i skipped REALLY far in the video where 4 and x have everyone gathered by a stage

(drew this on my phone sorry it looks like dogshit i didnt feel like redrawing it SKDJHFSDJF)

he was gonna reveal…something?? but before that he started doing this REALLY sarcastic and 4th wall breaking speech that basically made fun of the osc and people that didn't like post split??? it was so fuckunf weird it felt like cary/michael/whoever wrote this was having a breakdown while writing yhat. but thankfully it was just a joke thing and all the contestants hated him for that because i think at some point during the speech 4 started making fun of them too??? i swear they described everyone as "marketable disney stereotypes" and went off abt each one like. ok

while listing off each contestants flaws on stage, loser suddenly TRIES TO interrupt 4 multiple times but it doesn't rlly work out (plus her voice is different?? kinda… i described it as "more manly and…hunk-y sounding" so take that wgat you will)

anyways loser was fed up w this and stands up to 4 and getd all of the other contestants to GET THEIR FUVKING ASS so all the contestants get up onto the stage and start destroying the thing that was under that tarp (it was some kind of bad machine thing?) and the whole time this was happening 4 was just going "ohhhh oh nooo" in the most deadpan monotone voice possible. and ooohh this descrution scene ends with loser flinging himself AND CAKE up into the air like this was some anime shit and she slammed into the machine with one fist while holding cake in the other arm. this made me fucking get out of my bed and start punching shit (very positive) oh my god i was freaking the fuck out here

i remember i coudlnt stop replaying that scene NOT ONLY CUZ IT WAS THE FIRST LOSER & CAKE INTERACTION IN . A FUCKING WHILE but i also wanted to take a screenshot of cake's face cuz he had the funniest expression (too lazy to draw it but he was blushing SO MUCH and also screaming cuz he was falling w loser) BUT I COULDNT TAKE A GOOD FUCKING SCREENSHOT SO. MOST OF THE REST OF THIS DREAM WAS ME ANXIOUSLY TRYING TO GET A SCREENSHOT OF THIS FUCKING THIGN. oh yeah also cake's design was slightly different, he just had a white (or light yellow) center rather than a darker brown one.

then after i THINK i managed to grab a screenshot i went on a rant w lan abot how forced??? loser's little arc felt cuz there was no buildup ig and i just ended up complaining abt post splt and how bad jnjs writing was

THE END thats all i remember, i woke up drenched in fcking sweat at 2 am cuz of this (/hj itsalso just really hot in my room)

#i might draw some stuff based on this dream but no promises i feel very dented #also its currently 3 am i havent been able to fall bac asleep after this HELP #nate dreamposting

[sleeping-lilies]

robin era jason, dick, and babs headcanons because there’s too much comedic potential to ignore

- dick and babs were the ultimate gossip buddies. whenever dick was with the titans for long periods of time, babs always filled him in on everything

babs: dick you’ll never believe what hal said to bruce last night, i even have videos. dick, the look on his face please—

dick, immediately locking doors so his teammates don’t hear the mad shit about to be dropped on main: tell me everything

- vice versa too, dick filled babs in on everything going on with the titans and all they can say is thank god those lines are bat secured with no villains being able to listen in, imagine deathstroke hearing through bat gossip that joey’s dating who?!?! 😳

- batkids have been and always will be the holder of superhero gossip. it’s a business, you see, but we’re getting off topic 😡

- lmfao anyways this is literally how dick finds out about jason

babs: anyways, jason—

dick: who the fuck is jason

babs: ....

dick: barbara?!?!

babs: ok promise you won’t freak out

- babs and dick’s first reaction upon meeting jason being “why is he so small i wasnt that small” “dick you were literally nine when you were robin—“ “he’s tiny” it’s like those two share the same braincell

- i’m making it so that dick gave jason his number earlier because i feel like it 😡😡😡 (not that it changes much other than the fact that i want more gossip dropped in dm’s)

- when dick gave jason his number, he went to babs like “give me jason’s number” “didn’t you literally just give him your’s?” “ya but i’m gonna make sure he texts me” “ya ok that’s fair”

- whenever jason didn’t want to be in the manor (fight with bruce, boredom, etc) he went to wherever the fuck babs lived and they would facetime dick and talk mad shit. it was a thing.

- despite them all being able to drive, babs was the only one during this time with an actual, legitimate, legal license (jason was too young to have a license and dick is too lazy/busy/whatever-excuse-he-wants-to-use to take the permit and driving test) so babs drove them around everywhere and it was a mess™ consisting of a bunch of backseat drivers

- “dick omg look at this video i found from the batcave” “omg he said robin gives him magic” “robin gives him magic” they both cry about it for years to come

- babs sometimes kidnapped jason after school after telling the head of wayne manor (alfred) and took him to get ice cream, then to the library while she worked. jason was the greatest kid in the library, he even had his own throne special chair just for him whenever he came provided by library staff who adored this absolute angel.

- jason 🤝 babs 🤝 dick -> i believe in annoying yet endearing nicknames supremacy

- nicknames include (some used by some more than others or just one, or by both equally because they’re annoying pick and choose my good people)

little wing (iconic, we all know this one fellas and who uses it)

red (used for babs, absolutely fantastic, but in the future it gets confusing because some people with their goddamn hero names 😡)

boy wonder (classic, babs calls them both that)

barbie (for babs, jason uses this one and he’s the only one able to get away with it)

dickie (jason just really gets away with everything huh)

dickhead (jason’s lucky he’s cute)

baba black sheep (jeez i’m on a roll with babs’ nicknames she’s so nickname-able and that’s very cool and sexy of her)

jay z

jay allen

jay jay jay (shut up, dickhead—)

big bird

and a bunch more i’m too tired to look for them in canon or make new ones up, but you get the idea

- dick can totally bake, and babs and jason keep bugging him when he’s baking and add more chocolate chips while pretending to not notice that he can see them 😡😡😡

- headcanon that jason had hero worship for babs and dick because they’re so cool in and out of costume and it never really went away when he got older listen his older brother and pseudo sister are so cool and that’s not his fault but he’ll never admit it

- barbie movie marathons because barbie is an iconic legend and they all recognize it. they have the fucking “she’s the queen of the WA-A-A-AVES” song memorized along with all other barbie movie songs, they sing it on patrol.

- dick and jason’s sibling dynamic was and is basically “ur a little shit and i hate you but i will literally kill for you”

- dick had tension with bruce while jason was just a little shit who would totally cause drama for the sake of it, and people never take advantage of this absolute power duo for destroying bruce

- dick sending cryptid texts to jason through a burner phone because he’s dramatic jason totally knew it was him about things that drive bruce mad, like leaving the shower turned to the coldest setting before bruce got there, leaving the lights in the batcave on, etc. jason, a wise little child, totally took advantage of this. bruce came to accept his fate

- the gc names, guys the group chat names

- jason crashing into titans tower whenever he wants and dick doesn’t bat (hAH) an eye, occasionally he very sweetly asks babs to come with him and she agrees but only sometimes because some people have jobs, jason—wait dick is being flirted with by who?!?! i’ll leave it up to your imagination ;) and they totally crashed titans missions too

- one time bruce was busy with the league while alfred was on vacation and bruce absolutely could not dip (i’m imagining bruce getting a call from the headmaster during an honest to god fight and bruce just picking up while punching the daylights out of some asshole) (“mr wayne, what is that noise in the background?” “sorry, headmaster, the cat is having a seizure”), so when jason got into a “fight” (read: some jackass picking on jason before he snapped and yelled at him and the bitchass kid tried to punch him and jason’s no quitter) bruce called dick who was an adult and legally family (yes dick is adopted sometime after jason was, stay mad) like “son... son please” and dick was like “oh no need to plead with me, this is too good” but of course this bitchass doesn’t have an actual lisence yet and he was hanging out with babs anyways so he and babs rolled up to gotham academy and the kids stared at them like “holy shit they’re so cool” ya dick and babs are those power couple, whether romantic or not, that turn heads, they’re just that powerful strolled into the office, bailed jason out while intimidating the headmaster because the altercation was the result of school staff negligence of actual bullying like those cliche tropes, said “ayyy you got that brat good” and get him chili dogs or whatever the fandom made robin jason’s favorite food. omg i just made an entire fanfic in rough draft form someone please steal it and write it in full form and send me the link

- jason is very very tiny, you see. babs and dick pick him up and move him for any reason, whether because they want to sit on that chair or to just throw him out of harm’s way and take the bullet for themselves.

- jason and dick both get adorable blushes on their faces it’s genetic yes that’s how genetics work shut up meanwhile babs’ ears turn red when she’s embarrassed and all three of them clown each other for it

- i yelled about this to my mutual (cough cough @littlespaceboii) who also added to this absolute dogshit headcanon and then in the discord full of mutuals, but the basement of wayne manor is haunted. dick found it when he was a little gremlin (i stand by that dick was the original demon child) (“you see damian, before there was you there was me” the real reason he was good with damian lmfao) and was like “omg this is so cool” @littlespaceboii came up with that it was just alfred fucking with bruce and so when jason first came and dick was comfy around him he was like “so have you been in the basement” and jason was like “im literally robin i’ve been in the batcave?!?!” and dick goes “no the basement, the haunted one” and jason’s like “hAUNTED?!?!” cuz jason has at least some self preservations and knows not to fuck with the spookies until he too became a spooky and bruce was like “there’s no ghost it’s not haunted” because he’s a skeptic and a party pooper and babs is like “no go on let him finish” even though she knows full well there are no ghosts or does she? and uhhhh basically they becomes ghostbusters 2.0 but cooler and funnier

- this trio is basically baby pan/bisexual jason and two resident expert pan/bisexuals solidarity but that’s literally canon. they go to pride every year that jason’s alive what who said that?

- they all tease each other for their crushes like all siblings/family friends do, i don’t need to say it but it’s important that’s emphasized for my well being

- yelled about this in the discord to the mutuals who added onto this absolute train wreck too, but jason used to play baseball during his robin days, and dick never showed up to those games with being busy as an excuse, but babs always showed up with bruce and alfred and took pictures for dick so dick could be like “mlb players are jobless now that little wing is on the scene” babs (and sometimes bruce) always shouted loudest for jason whether he was in the field or in the dugout and jason would get this extremely adorable blush on his face (jason finds out in the future why dick never showed up (cough cough ptsd from two face’s massive baseball bat which led to everything that came after including being fired and veangance academy and nearly killing two face and omg that’s a ride) and is like oh my god my childhood is even more ruined—)

- remember when i said dick got adopted after jason did in this new absolutely fabulous canon i just created? bruce did that because “ahhh fuck that’s my kid and i want him to know i love him through every means possible since i have the ability to do so” i believe in good dad bruce supremacy and made a whole thing where he invited dick to dinner for like a week to work up the courage and bonding to ask him and show him the adoption papers and then everyone cried :) bruce decided to finally adopt dick after jason referred to dick as his brother and bruce was like “...oh” and alfred was like 👀

- dick, as the first child hero and one of the first heroes period like at least a year or two before babs, holds the “back in my day” card over literally everyone in the hero community in general and pulls it out to annoy babs and jason even tho babs literally joined the scene only a year or two after dick

jason, shaking in his panties: it’s so fucking cold

dick, standing strong in his tits out outfit, who had to wear the panties on his own decision: oh, you’re cold? back in my day—

babs, throwing her boot at his face: god shut the fuck up—

and then dick doesn’t give back her boot and it becomes a whole thing with lots of tackling and play fighting and someone nearly gets thrown off they rooftop for funsies but anyways

also on a side note, babs would take off her cape and wrap it around jason whenever she noticed his discomfort with the weather, or use the weather as an excuse whenever she saw him uneasy for whatever reason and they never mention it to each other

- yelled about this in the discord to the mutuals at some point too holy shit i have friends, but those three are team rocket. they went out as team rocket for halloween one year after bullying bruce to let jason out only jason because he can’t tell dick and babs what to do and jason is under his care and when they do convince him, dick and babs bully jason into being meowth. manifesting jason in a meowth onesie ARTISTS PLEASE—

- dick finally took his license seriously and took his driver’s test after babs became paralyzed.

- those were a rough few months for those three. and then another rough few months for those two

- yikes, sorry to throw angst at you (sorry (unfeeling)) anyways, in the future alfred finds those old photos and shows the rest of the fam, so dick and babs bully jason, 6’2 jason that towers way above both of them, and once again bullies him into being meowth “for tradition, little wing!” “shut up, dickhead” the rest of the batkids lose their shit over this, naturally. bruce and alfred stand in the back teary eyed reminiscing the old days when things were a little more simple.

- discowing walked so terrifying handsome squidward red hood helmet could run (even tho the ugly helmet tripped and fell and missed the mark because discowing wasn’t ugly and will always remain superior, i feel i have committed a terrible crime comparing the two)

dick: jason what the fuck is that

jason: it’s fashion

dick: it’s terrifying

jason: i’m only following in my older brother’s footsteps 😔

dick: listen here, you little shit strangles him haha just kidding that illegal wait theyre vigilantes they don’t follow the law—

- these three and cass refer to the rest of the batkids as “the kids” (if she’s older than jason, sometimes she is and sometimes she isn’t and i’m really confused but whatever)

- babs and dick’s relationship with jason pre death literally shaped how jason treats his siblings post pit madness like he literally goes “what would red and big bird do?!??” when he needs to go into big brother mode over the “little ones” (“little” because tim and steph are adults and duke is nearly an adult himself oh my god he’ll graduate from high school soon and jason never got to do that himself he’s totally going to the ceremony legally dead or not) 🥺

- holy trinity continue hanging out with each other, whether lunch or games or whatever, and just enjoy each other’s company after long, rough years

#i believe in meowth jason supremacy #license is spelled differently every time i type it is it license or lisence #oh whatever i’m failing anyways #good dad bruce because and reconciled bruce and dick father son dynamic because good dad bruce and extremely bitter son dick cannot exist #in the same realm #like it literally ruins dick’s whole character and makes him look like a brat when that’s literally not what happened #I MADE A FUCKING TYPO NOOO #OK ANYWAYS #dick grayson #jason todd #barbara gordon #oracle #batgirl #red hood #robin #nightwing #bruce wayne #batman #alfred pennyworth #headcanons #batfam #batfam headcanons #dc comics #3am blue strikes again #long post #mine

[oh-for-fic-sake]

Fearfull Proposal

Summary: henry plans a romantic proposal... and instead of coming clean about your secret fear of heights and ruining his romantic plan, you put on a brave face... well until your nearing the top of the london eye.

Warnings: fear, fluff, swearing, typos.

You quivered as you rose higher and higher over londons skyline.

Fuck why? Why the fuck had you got in this dangling glass death trap. A faulty few bolts and you'd be plummeting into the fucking thames!

Henry was standing by the window looking out at the glittering lights in awe.

You were standing with your back turned to the houses of Parliament hands clutching the rail eitherside of you knuckles white. Knees knocking.

God this was the stupidest thing you'd ever fucking done! And it was your own fault.

"Babe, look! God big ben looks soo small never been on this at night"

You hummed nodding but continued looking to the floor.

Henry paused when you didnt correct him with the whole 'big ben is the bell' you usually countered

He turned looking back to you and his stomach dropped.

"Babe? Whoa are you okay there love?" He asked frowning as he saw your eyes clenched shut almost as if you were in pain.

You were trembling and pale to the point he fearded youd pass out.

"Here come sit down and relax, i packed some snacks-" he said placing the specially packed bag of snacks and screw top mini wine bottles.

"No! No I'm fine... I will just stay here... By the saftey bar" you said giggling nervously sparing him a glance and patting the metal you were holding onto for dear life..

Henry faltered and really took in your apperance unsure what to do. It wasn't like he could get you off, you had to ride the ride.

"Babe? Are you scared of heights?"

"Nooo dont be sillyeee- OH MY GOD IM GONNA FUCKING DIE!" you began laughing him off then screamed as the ride stopped.

Instantly you ducked crouching whilst wrapping your arms around the silver bar shouting bloody murder.

It didn't help you were bathed in purple light so couldn't see shit.

Henry got up and rushed to you standing over you arms rounding you holding you securly.

"No, no its fine love... shh its fine baby, they said it could stop to let people on poppet remember?" He said quickly rubbing your sides as you cowered trying to fend off the temptation to look at the thames below.

"Y-yeah fuck hen- im sorry i just..." you mewled turning towards him tucking your head to his chest.

"Scared of heights huh? Why didnt you tell me?" He sighed pressing kisses to your head as you whimpered adn the ride began moving once again.

"Because you went to all this trouble, you planned this surprise and i didnt want to ruin it, you were soo excited" you sniffled blinking at him.

"Hey shh you silly girl, you should have told me. You wouldnt have ruined anything you silly sausage" he cooed winding himself around you tighter.

He was actually annoyed at himself, how the fuck had he not known his girlfriend of a year and a half was scared of heights?

He'd suspected a fear of heights when you both went on holiday for your birthday, but youd managed to convince him it was a fear of flying and planes... not heights.

And come to think of it you didnt even like the glass lifts in shopping centers, you ran to the corner and held on eyes locked onto the doors the entire time.

So this was the worst surprize he could of planned for tonight. Things weren't going to plan. Fuck.

"Babe im sorry" he apologised feeling like an asshole.

"No no dont be, this was extremly sweet bear" you said quickly not wantin to make him feel bad fpr your own short commings.

"Theres noting sweet about terrifying you"

"Do... do you want to sit down? Ill hold you the entire time" he offered peaking to the central bench where both your bags sat.

"I.. yes okay i think sitting will be better" you said then yipped as he prompty scooped you up and placed you in his lap securly.

"Im so sorry love, I just wanted to make this special and romantic" he muttered holding you as close as he could letting you know that you were safe and sound.

"It is! It is love really im just a baby" you said quickly grasping his face pulling him closer before peppering his face with kisses.

"Your not a babe we all have our fears" he said quietly pressing his forehead to yours.

"You dont" you sighed closing your eyes trying to ignore the snails pace of the pod that still rose over london.

You could barely feel it, but your fear amplified it.

"Oh but i do~" he replied peering at you, as yur eyes fluttered open.

"Like what?" The questionnescaped before you could think.

"No" he said eyes now becoming worried, anxiety clouding them.

"No?"

"Yes, at the moment thats my biggest fear" he said releasing a shakey breath as you frowned at him not following but didnt dwell as your ees darted to the side seeing the houses

"You see, i was trying to be all romantic and wait untill we got tp the top, but i think you'll be too terrified"

"Henry?" You said leaning back unsure about the serious tone he seemed to take.

"I brought us here, to the spot we met two years ago today..." he said drawing deeper breaths as the reality of what was about to happen hit him.

"Was it really?" You asked surprized he'd remember something like that. Anniversary? Definitely. But the day you first met? And asked for a selfie with a series of embarrassing squeaks? No you didnt think he'd remember.

"Yep. I remember doing a promo and shoot on this thing, then got off and was sat next to you in wagamama"

"And i squeaked for a selfie" you groaned with a small giggle.

"Im glad you did, i scanned instagram for days after- scouring my hashtag trying to find you... i kicked myself for not getting your number~"

"I still cant belive you did that... but im gld you did henry"

"Who'd have thought the nervous little thing trying not to even breath in my direction would be my girlfriend six months down the line"

"Or that we'd last this long?" You quipped at him trying to reme,ber to breath.

"And.. hopefully a lifetime? Despite me dragging you intoyour actual living nightmare- which i promise to never do again! Not even lifts"

You scowled and tilted your head to him not sure if you heard him correctly.

Untill he pulled the small velvet box from his pocket.

"Henry?! What? You cant be serious?"

"Oh but i am love, as much as i want to do this right and drop to one knee i doubt you'll thank me for releasing you?"

"Dont you dare let me go!"

"I think you'll find im trying to do the opposite~" he chuckled opening the box revealing the simple elegant ring three tiny diamonds.

"Im trying to marry you..."

You gasped eyes glazing over as you locked on to the dainty ring pinched between his fingers.

"I love you y/n, and i want to know if you'd become my wife and share your life with me. Will you marry me?"

"Oh god yes of course its a yes henry i love you bear!" You cried throwing your arms around him making him grunt and quickly clench his fist arohnd the ring before he dropped it.

He groaned into you rocking from side to side littering your head with kisses before peeling you away to sit the ring on your finger.

You looked at the glittering stones on your finger weeping. You may have been cursing yourself for getting into this godforsaken glass bauble in the sky.

But now you were he happiest woman alive.

"I love you bear"

"I love you too"

"Would you like some wine? I brough the little cute bottles you like" he offered nodding to the bag of snacks.

"Err lets not push it hun" you whined not sure wine at this altitude was a good idea.

You kept glancing at him still sniffing and giggleing unable to look from your ring for long.

"Gotcha, no wine"

"You look surprized i said yes?"you quipped needing to talk and take your mind off the fact your at the tippity top.

"I made you face one of your nightmares i thought you'd slap me silly when i ask" he scoffed pressing a kiss to your cheek unable to stop.

"Never love... but please never ever get on this thing again okay?" You pleaded fluttering your lashes at him pleading.

"I swear. Never again, but seeing as this is our one and only ride we should take a few selfies? Mark the occasion?" He said standing letting your feet hit the floor but never once did he let go.

"Absolutly, gotta show off my new fiancé" you hummed rising to share another kiss with him not really paying attention to the height you'd now reached, you had more important things to think about. Like sharing the rest of your life with this glorious man.

"My thoughts exactly" he grinned pulling out his phone aiming it at the two of you, makeing sure to have the hand that rested on his chest donning his ring in shot.

#henry cavill #henry cavill imagine #oh for fic sake headcannon #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x you #henry cavill x y/n

[kilyra]

As Bad as it Looks

Frank Castle (Punisher) One-Shot for a challenge

A/N: I joined @trashmenofmarvel​​ ‘s Trashman 2K Challenge with the prompt:  “Why are you so stubborn? Do you not have a sense of self-preservation at all?” So, this is my offering to the heap! Apologies now for all the undoubted typos - I’m blind to them right now but wanted to get this posted haha 

You and Frank always had a complicated relationship, and you shouldn’t be surprised when he just shows up. And yet...

Warning: Blood, injuries, the mother of all swear words, angst. And I apologize, but there is a “Yes ma’am” in there. I try to keep things neutral, but I have a hard time with Frank because he does like throwing around ma’am and atta girl. I hope it doesn’t pull anyone out too much (and hopefully it helps to know that’s coming)

NOTE: If you want to be on a Frank (or everything) tag list, let me know :)

No matter how many times you came home with your groceries, you never seemed to get the hang of resting the bag on your jutted hip as you unlocked the door. Every time, it was a struggle to shuffle into your apartment and reach the counter to dump them before everything spilled out. In the dark, of course, because you couldn't spare a hand to flick the switch.

Right on cue, as the door flew open, everything seemed to shift in your arms and you rushed towards the counter. You were engulfed in darkness as the door pulled shut behind you, but you knew the way.

Only that time, you slipped.

Sliding forward on the slick tile, your knee and hip crashed painfully into the lower cupboard doors as they smashed loudly in response. You didn't even have time to question why the floor was wet before your back foot slipped and you had to lurch forward, slamming your groceries on the counter as you grabbed the edge of the sink for support.

“You okay?” A low, gravelly voice broke through the shadows.

You couldn't hear your gasp over the rushing in your ears as your heart tried to pound straight out of your chest. Feeling along the counter, you stumbled away from the voice and slapped on the light.

Blood. The floor was covered...except for the streaks you made slipping through it.

In the middle, propped against your cupboards in a tattered shirt wuith old bruises littering his face, sat Frank Castle.

Only that fact felt like a speck being swept around in a sandstorm, and it just couldn't fully register in your mind. Tensing, your mouth dropped open as you sucked in air.

But before you could scream, he held his hands up, palms facing you. “Shh, shhh, shhh, it's okay, Y/n. It's me. Hey, hey.....it's just me, okay?”

Frozen with your mouth still open, the air seemed to whoosh from your lungs, leaving you breathless.

Frank leaned towards you before suddenly stopping as pain shot across his face. Letting out a low grunt, he settled back against the cupboard. When he continued, it was little more than a mumble. “It's...just me...”

“Frank.” You breathed out his name so unsteadily that it verged on a question.

Resting his head back with a dull thud, his eyes drooped closed as a fleeting smirk touched the corner of his mouth. “Hey. Been a while.”

All of your shock was slapped away in an indignant rush. “I...W-what? It's...been a while? Are you fucking serious?”

Letting out a low chuckle, his eyebrows lifted as his head lolled slightly.

Shoving the groceries further back on the counter, you took a careful step out of the blood. "And of course, it's not like you can show up at my door like a normal fucking person. Nooo, you have to just appear in my place, dying on the kitchen floor."

"Wow, dying, huh?" His scoff was listless.

"Look at all this blood! I want my key back, I mean...what the hell, Frank..." Muttering under your breath, you were already shedding your jacket, tossing it on the floor by the entrance. Roughly pushing your sleeves up past your elbow, you took a better look at the floor, finding relatively clean spots to move closer.

He completely ignored the demand for your key.

The smell of copper greeted you as you crouched low. It was undercut with something else, a heavy, sickening scent that you couldn't quite identify. Ignoring it, you balanced on your feet, keeping your knees off the floor as you peeled back the shreds of fabric. Thick smears of blood coated most of his torso, and it was impossible to see where it was coming from. "Holy shit..."

Clumsily, his hand clapped over yours, his fingers curling over and holding you in place before you could flinch back.

"Hey...relax, alright? It's not as bad as it looks." He cracked his eyes open and immediately captured your gaze. Slowly, his eyebrows drew together with concern as he refused to let you look away.

Your mouth ran dry as his stare cut through everything and found the core of you. There was a twinge of frustration that followed the flutter in your chest. Sighing, there was less heat to your words. "Well, that's good because it looks bad. I...I don't even know where to start."

“I already got the worst of it,” he said, nodding to the stove behind you.

Twisting, you followed his gesture and saw a bloodied table knife on the floor. Trailing your eyes up, you noticed the glowing red burner that was still on high. Your stomach rolled as you made the connection. And that smell...

"Jesus, Frank." Pulling away, you got to your feet and turned off the stove. Holding the oven handle, you willed yourself not to give in to the wave of nausea that passed over you.  

“Hey, hey...stay with me, okay? I'm fine. I just need to get cleaned up and rest a bit and I'll be out of your hair, yeah?”

“Ha!” The sharp laugh burst out as you looked over the mess in your kitchen. The mess that was Frank.

“I'm fine.” Grunting, he pulled his feet closer as he attempted to get up. Pushing his back against the cupboard, he lifted his hips only to have his foot slide away. Bracing himself on his hand, he reached his free arm, grabbing at the top of the counter to pull himself up but couldn't find a firm grip.

Darting forward, you grabbed near his elbow to offer support. Letting go of the counter, he pushed your hand away, refusing your help. 

“Seriously?”

“I got this.” His rough voice was strained as he tried again, pulling himself up while keeping his other arm tucked against his chest. As he raised himself higher than before, his other foot slipped just enough to throw him off balance. Wincing as his back slammed into the cupboard, he sat down with a groan.

Leaning over, you were met with a dismissive wave of his hand.

“Seriously? Why are you so stubborn? Do you not have a sense of self-preservation at all​? Because, let me tell you, a concussion isn't going to help things right now.” Grabbing his elbow, you moved closer as you snipped at him.

From that bit of movement, his breaths had already grown heavy. You took advantage of his silence.

“So let me lay out what's going to happen now. You're going to let me help you up and I'm going to look for any more obvious bleeding. Then, if you pass that test, you're going to get in the shower and clean off enough that I can figure out what else needs to be patched up. And if you don't like it, you can crawl yourself back out the door. Got it?”

Letting out a weak chuckle, his tongue darted out over his lips. “Yes ma'am.”

Even with your help, tucking your shoulder under his arm and taking as much weight as you could, it was still a struggle to get him off the floor. But once he was on his feet, he seemed to move easier, even if it was with a heavy shuffle through the apartment.

Lowering him onto the side of the tub, you only gave him a second to catch his breath before you started pulling his shirt up. Instinctively, he raised his arms but froze, favouring the bloodied side. Frowning, you freed one arm and pulled the shirt remains over his head before sliding it down the arm he pinned along his torso.

Sweeping your gaze over his broad chest, you looked for any other obvious wounds. Letting the shirt drop to the floor, you carefully pressed your hands to his injured side, a move that was met with a low hiss.

"Is it just from the wound you...uh...fixed...or do you have some broken ribs too?" It was impossible to see any bruising, even if it had been there. Leaning over, you looked at his back while he stayed hunched forward.  

Before he replied, his free arm slid around your waist and he relaxed his forehead against your shoulder. Tilting your head, rested your cheek against his hair. It was soft on your skin.

Skimming your fingers down his back, you saw an exit wound and while it wasn't bleeding, it wasn't cauterized.

As if reading your mind, he preemptively answered your next question. “It went straight through, not much damage. One asshole got me pretty good with a knife...that one...that one I had to deal with already. Ribs might be bruised...cracked even...but nothing's broke.” He mumbled against your shoulder, making no move to back away.

So it really wasn't as bad as it looked.

Sighing, you let yourself relax against him, melting slightly in his arm as he adjusted his grip, pulling you closer. Bringing your hand back up, you lazily traced your fingers through his short hair.

“You could have been killed.”

Feeling his grin against your skin, he finally straightened. Pulling back, you scanned his features, looking for a hint of what was so funny. The exhaustion was clear, even as he lifted the corner of his lip in a weary smile.

“I'm not the one that gets killed, remember?”

A faint smile ghosted your lips, trying to reflect his attempt at levity. "You're the one that does the killing."

“You're goddam right I am,” he said without a hint of shame. And, as much as you hated what he did, it brought an odd measure of comfort.

Brushing his fingers over your cheek, he let them settle at the back of your neck as he pulled you closer. Tilting his head, he touched his forehead to yours as his eyes fluttered shut. Letting your own eyes close, your tense shoulders softened as his warm breath fanned across your collarbone.

Even if the worst of it was already handled, there was still a lot to do. And yet, you couldn't bring yourself to pull away.

"I guess you can keep the key for now," you said quietly, your eyes still closed.

Huffing through his nose, his laugh was cut short as he tensed against the pain it brought.

It was going to be a long night.

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#trashman2kchallenge #frank castle x reader #punisher x reader #punisher

[steppedoffaflight]

Summer’s a Knife - Chapter 2

Catch up on Chapter 1 here

You don’t respond, silence in the air as you both catch your breath.

“I’ve got no use for sex that sounds straight out of a porno.” Van lifts his head, and you flinch at the intensity in his eyes. “I’d rather it be fucking real. No bullshit. If you’re having a good time, sure, say it. But if you’re not, say that too.”

or

Almost three months later, Van McCann is back in L.A. and ready to take you up on that dinner date

Word count: ~15k

Chapter Two

April 2019

By the time you’ve pulled into the Whole Foods parking lot, having squeezed through afternoon traffic, you’re at your wits end. Work had consisted of eight tedious hours fixing someone else’s mistakes instead of working on your own projects, and you’re already dreading the hit your paycheck is about to take from this grocery shopping. 

Your phone buzzes on the passenger seat next to you, no doubt Mary offering up some positivity in response to the giant work rant you’d just texted her. You already roll your eyes before you’ve picked up the phone and pressed your fingerprint to the sensor.

Hey. It’s Van x The gray bubble on your screen catches you off guard. You’d saved Van’s number months ago, his contact info at the top of the conversation reading “Van San Diego”. Thinking about how long ago your trip feels makes the whole thing seem even more surreal. 

You gape at your screen for way too long, heart pounding, before you respond with a Hi!

After you’ve hit send, you panic over responding too fast. You let the car continue to run for the sake of air conditioning and you don’t let your screen lock, waiting anxiously for Van’s next message. When one doesn’t come after ten minutes you resign to cutting the ignition, finally facing the fact you’ve got shopping to do.

You can’t stop checking your phone as you roll your cart through the aisles, careful not to let your eyes wander to any items that aren’t on your list. You’re carefully examining the label on an overpriced pasta sauce when you hear the buzz of your phone against the cart. You almost drop the jar in your hand.

I know it’s been a while but I’m finally back in la. Still up for that dinner?

As you’re reading the indication that he’s typing starts, sending a shot of adrenaline through you.

No worries if not just let me know x

You screenshot his messages immediately and forward them to Mary for her opinion. Predictably, she hadn’t responded to your rant, but sends an OMG the second you show her the screenshot. 

Have you messaged him back ?! she sends in response to your I knowww!!! 

Nooo I don’t wanna look too eager you tap excitedly to her. You’re jolted back to reality when another cart suddenly bumps into yours.

“Sorry,” You apologize, quickly steering your cart away. You say it purely for the sake of politeness, even though you’re almost positive you weren’t in the way and the person could have rolled by without jostling all your things. All of your mundane worries are pushed to the back of your mind. You’re finally getting that promised dinner date with Van!

The rest of your shopping trip is as chaotic as your brain feels. Between lightning-fast exchanges with Mary about what you’ll say and when you’ll say it you haphazardly scrap together the rest of your list. You’re sure you’re forgetting something as you send it down the conveyor belt to the cashier, but you’re too frazzled to care. The only thing that matters at this point is getting home, cracking open the bottle of wine you’d purchased (on impulse, unfortunately) and accepting Van’s invitation. 

And you do just that. Upon getting home you only put away your fresh items, leaving the rest to sit on the floor in their bags. It’s not the best practice, but it’s necessary after the day you’ve had. You pour a generous amount of wine into a regular glass, not caring enough to fish out a wine glass, and change out of your work wardrobe and into your most worn-in sweats. Only after you’ve plopped down onto the couch and taken a swallow of wine to calm your nerves do you allow yourself to respond: We could totally do dinner! When?

You feel slightly remorseful for leaving Van without a response for almost two hours. You chew the inside of your cheek as you berate yourself for it.

What works best for you? I’m here for the next two weeks and free most nights

You consider his response. Most of the time it feels like you’re the only person in L.A. that’s free most nights. Is he not the partying type? He seems like he would be, considering the way he went straight to the bar after his show in January. 

Does tomorrow work? You send. It feels a bit off to schedule something so soon, but tomorrow’s Friday, and you wouldn’t have to worry about staying out late considering you’ve got no work Saturday. Plus, the longer you wait the more likely things are to be packed into Van’s schedule. And, you remind yourself, this dinner is more than two months in the making.

Another text from Van interrupts the churning thoughts in your head. Tomorrow’s ace, he says first, and then another message: I’ll pick you up followed by a third: What time? 

You exchange a few more messages, setting up a time and making sure he has your address. Once the logistics are worked out, Van sends Look forward to it x and that feels like a good note to end the conversation on. You melt into your couch cushions and down the rest of your wine with a sigh.

\\

If yesterday felt like a long workday, then today feels like it’s lasting an eternity.

You try to burn though time texting Mary, attempting to cut down on your getting ready time by verbally planning your outfit in advance. Still, the minutes seem to tick by at a snail’s pace. You try to get some work done and catch yourself repeatedly screwing up your spreadsheet with typos. Even triple-checking everything you enter doesn’t seem to eat up any time. You visit the water cooler too much, and pee repeatedly as a result. Eventually, somehow, you make it to 5, slinging your bag over your shoulder and murmuring quick goodbyes as you dash out of the office. 

When you get home you’re laser focused. You tackle showering first, the task made longer with all of the shaving that needed to be done, followed by the slippery process of moisturizing every inch of your skin. It takes up more time than you’d like, but in San Diego you’d been completely unprepared for a hookup. This time you wanted to be ready. 

Van sends a heading over text just as you’d finished blow drying and styling your hair. You get dressed, then, layering the outfit you and Mary had agreed on over a matching black lace bra and panty set. They were at the bottom of your underwear drawer, crumpled and forgotten, tags still intact. As you clip away the tags you hope out loud to yourself in the kitchen that they still fit, and sigh in relief when you’re able to shimmy the set on. 

Maybe it’s the traffic, or maybe Van lied about when he was leaving, but by the time he texts that he’s arrived you’re waiting for him on the couch, having managed to get your makeup routine done just in time. The house is in complete disarray from your rush, and you cringe to yourself as you get a look at the tornado you’ve caused before you shut the door, locking it securely, and turning to seek out Van’s car.

There’s a black Range Rover pulled up on the street, the only car on the block running right now. You can see the dim blue light of Van’s phone screen through the tint of the windows, and as you approach you can see his silhouette. 

He looks up when you tug open the car door, sliding into the front passenger seat. 

You’re pleased when his face lights up. A part of you had almost been expecting that he’d rethink his attraction to you now that there was no post-show adrenaline or late night beers to cloud his judgement.

“Hello,” He laughs, “Long time no see!”

He’s just as charismatic as you remember him, your nerves easing as you make yourself comfortable. The crisp lace underneath your clothes is stiff and itchy, and you wiggle around as discretely as possible.

“Hey,” You greet him. “It feels like it’s been forever.”

Van nods, kicking the car into gear. “You’re telling me. Been a busy couple months.”

You hum in sympathy even if you can’t relate. Your busiest times of the year were summer- when most of your coworkers went on extended vacations and you were responsible for making up their work- and the holidays, when you had to coordinate trips home to see your family.

“You look amazing, by the way,” Van says, managing a quick glance over at you with a smile.

“Aw, thanks,” You murmur, chronically awkward at receiving compliments. “You look great, too.”

“Ah, stop. Makin’ me blush, love,” he jokes, and you can’t help but giggle at his sarcasm. It’s strange how familiar he feels, the result of just one night.

“So.” You peer out of the windows, looking for any hint of where you were headed. “What do you have planned?”

“Got a reservation for eight at this really nice place, dunno if you’ve ever heard of it.” Van stumbles over some sort of French pronunciation. “We’ve had a couple of dinners there with label people and it’s always class.”

“Sounds lovely,” You tell him. You’ve never heard of the place, but then again your Los Angeles friend group was lacking any musicians making a big break, let alone getting invited to dinner with Capitol Records staff. “Never heard of it.”

“You’ll like it,” Van says confidently.

You glance over at the clock on the dashboard display. It’s set to 24-hour time, so you pick up your phone instead of mentally trying to calculate it.

“How far away is it?” You ask nervously. It’s dangerously close to eight. 

“Not too far,” Van shrugs, but he’s driving into the tail end of stop-and-go traffic. You try to swallow down your anxiety.

\\

Finding a parking spot is a pain in the ass, but eventually Van’s maneuvered his car into one of the parallel spots lining the sidewalk.

By the time you two are out of the car, crossing the street to the restaurant, it’s almost ten minutes after your reservation time. Van seems oblivious to this, breezily strutting into the place, holding the door for you as usual. He’s whistling absentmindedly, and you wonder if it’s one of his own songs. He keeps whistling until you two approach the podium in the lobby.

“Reservation name?” The hostess asks, turning the pages in the binder in front of her.

“McCann.”

The hostess takes a second to look over her pages before she motions. “Right this way.”

There’s no mention of the fact you guys are late as she opens a door on the wall behind the podium, leading you two into the dining area. It’s a stark contrast from the drab, dim decor of the small lobby area. The floors are glossy white, almost shiny enough to reflect your face back to you, and although there are some larger tables most of them are the quintessential small, circular two-seaters with silky white tablecloths draped over them. The walls are dark in typical L.A. style, but covered in windows that frame the courtyard outside, lanterns glowing and candlelit outdoor tables visible. 

Almost everyone is in black tie attire, and you feel self-consciousness broil in your stomach as the hostess leads you and Van to to your own small table. You’re curious if there’s other celebrities here, but you’re too afraid of looking like an outsider by trying to peek at people as you pass by. You keep your eyes on the back of Van’s head instead, examining where his hair parts on his scalp. 

You’re waved to your assigned table with the assurance that someone will be with you shortly before the hostess sees herself back to the front room. In the time you’ve paused to listen to her words Van’s already ahead of you, pulling out one of the covered chairs and motioning for you to sit.

“You know you don’t have to do that,” You tell him as you sit in the seat he’s designated for you. He takes his own seat opposite you.

“Does it offend you?” Van asks, and you watch his brow crease in concern.

“No!” You’re quick to assure him. “I’m not offended, or anything like that. I’m just saying, I won’t tell everyone this was the worst date of my life just because you didn’t pull the chair out or hold the door.”

Van laughs, the worry easing out of his expression. “S’ just a force of habit. It’s more trouble for me to stop at this point in my life than it is to just keep doing it.”

You nod in understanding before reaching for the menu and searching for the drinks.

“Do you know what you’re drinking?” Van asks after a small stretch of silence where you’re both looking at your respective menus. 

“What are you drinking?” You answer his question with a question, eager to be able to gauge the most appropriate choice for yourself. The drink menu is long and most of the items seem hard to pronounce, and despite knowing Van intimately you’ve still got first date jitters. Not to mention, you were on a budget.

“I usually get this wine,” Van tells you, using his index finger to point it out for you on your menu. “M’not gonna drink too much considering I’m drivin’, but it goes great with the lobster.” 

You hum as you read over the tiny italics font describing the wine. “Sounds good,” You say finally, “I’ll have it with you.”

“I’ll get us a bottle, then.”

You swallow hard when you read the price listed for the entire bottle, but manage to stifle any worries. You’ve waited 3 months for this date, there can’t be any real harm in one luxurious dinner. And the cost of the bottle divided into two wasn’t so outrageous.

“Perfect.” You close your menu, decision made.

By the time the server has taken your wine order, returned with chilled glasses and doled out servings to each of you, and delivered a fresh bread basket and dinner menus, your stomach is grumbling and you’re eager to scour through the menu and figure out what you’re having. 

“God, I’m starving,” You sigh, buttering a warm bread roll. In your ravenous state you bite off more than you can politely chew, but thankfully Van doesn’t notice as he’s taking a peek at his phone. 

“Same.” He was listening even in his distracted state, and as soon as he sets his phone back down he reaches for his own roll.

“So…” You start, flipping open your menu to (surprise) even more expensive, french-titled meals. “What’s good here?”

“The lobster,” Van laughs. “It’s the only thing I’ve had here. Had it once and kept craving it forever.”

He must be able to sense that answer doesn’t satisfy you, because he opens his own menu. “Bondy loves the roast. Says it’s one of the best he’s ever had.”

“Not a huge fan of roast,” You tell Van, but flip the pages until you find the meal he’s talking about. “Who’s Bondy?” The name sounds familiar, and in your head you replay the encounter you had outside of Van’s hotel room in San Diego. Was Bondy the one stuck behind the luggage?

“Johnny Bond, he’s our guitar player. Goes by Bondy.”

“Ah. Who’s the one with the…?” You trail off, but motion with your hands around your head to convey the thick head of curls you remember from that night.

“That’s Benji. Our bassist.”

“Benji,” You repeat quietly to yourself. The name doesn’t ring a bell, but the hair does.

“He likes the roast chicken,” Van suggests. “But he’s not allowed to say it’s the best because my mum makes a mean roast chicken and it’s deffo the best.”

“That sounds good. I’m gonna get that.” You try not to openly cringe at the price.

Van opens his mouth to speak, but from the way he’s looking over your shoulder you know the server’s returned to take down your orders. 

“There’s Bob, too,” Van says unprovoked when you two are alone again. “He’s easy to pick out. Wears glasses.”

Your brain can connect the dots there: A man with glasses hidden away behind a drumset in the few photos you’d seen on google.

“Is he drums?” You’re hesitant in case you’re wrong, but Van perks up so you know you’ve got it right.

“He is.” Van takes a drink from his wine glass.

There’s a pause in conversation. You try to wrack your brain for a topic, but your knowledge of his band is shaky and not trivia-proof. 

“Are you guys close?” Seems like a safe enough question to ask.

“Me ‘n Bob?”

“Everyone,” You elaborate, lacing your fingers together. “Are you guys, like, at each other’s throats?”

“Nah. They’re my best mates. I’ve known Bob and Benji since we were younger, in school. Used to play on the same footie team and all’a that. Bondy didn’t come into the picture until we were a bit older but I’d heard of him before. Thought he was crazy talented, couldn’t believe he actually wanted to join us. Everyone’s massively talented, really. Wouldn’t be the same without them.”

You drink in the reverence in his voice as he talks about his friends.

“I was just with ‘em today, actually. Been at the studio for most of the day.”

“Well, that’s good that you guys get along.” You offer him a smile which he returns.

“You’re telling me. Couldn’t imagine if things went sour. Having fights over guitar riffs and drumbeats all day.”

You try to picture Van angry and fail. “What do you do in the studio?”

“We’re putting the finishing touches on our next album. It’s due out at the end of the month.”

“Oh, no way!” Your eyes widen in interest. “That’s really cool.”

Van grins. “Yeah, proper excited. Think it’s our best one yet.”

“So is that how you ended up in L.A.? Music?” As much as you’re trying to get a feel for Van, L.A. seems like the last place on earth he’d enjoy living. Considering his lack of social media presence or desire to pressure others into buying sponsored products, and the fact that the band definitely seems more popular in the U.K. than America, you can’t quite put a finger on his motives.

“Yeah. I lived in New York for a bit, when we first got signed, but ended up moving down here. L.A. is sort of the hub for the business end. I spend a good bit of time in London, but the weather down here is nice.”

“So nice,” You agree. The constant summer is worlds different than the unpredictable midwest climate you were raised in.

“Right?” Van beams. “We just spent a while at this place in Ireland, writing and doing most of the recording. And it was just absolute pouring rain everyday. So once we got outta there we thought why not enjoy some time in the sun?”

You chuckle in agreement, taking the first drink of your wine. It tastes better than you were anticipating, and the pleasant surprise must show on your face.

“It’s good, innit?” Van takes his own sip. “Not much of a wine guy, but this stuff…” He trails off, nodding in approval. “Anyway, enough about me. Been droning on for ages. You said you weren’t from L.A., right? How’d you end up here?”

It’s your turn to be interrupted by the server with fresh, hot meals in tow. There’s the momentary fuss of getting situated with food in front of you, and by the time you guys are settled again the question has slipped away as you two dig into your food.

“This is amazing,” You affirm after your first hot forkful of chicken and roasted vegetables. “Who said this was amazing? They were right.”

“Blakes,” Van replies through a mouthful of lobster.

“Blakes?” You stop your fork midair. “Who’s Blakes?”

Van is still chewing his food, so you hurry up and eat the piece of potato speared on your fork. 

“Benji,” Van clarifies after he swallows. “Benji is Blakes.” He coughs around a sip of his drink when he must see the confusion on your face.

“His name is Benji Blakeway. Blakes is his nickname.”

The name attaches itself to the memory in your head. The c’mon, Blakes, from the guy in the hat rings through your mind.

“Who wears the hat?” You try to get the last puzzle piece in place. You’ve seen whoever it is on google, always wearing the same flat cap.

“Bondy.”

“Okay. So you, Bob, Bondy, Benji.”

Van nods, looking pleased, and you feel a sense of satisfaction spread through you.

“I forgot,” Van says suddenly, “You were just about to tell me how you ended up in L.A.”

“Oh, right.” You look down at your food. “Full disclosure, it’s really lame.”

When you look up, Van’s put his fork down, prepared to listen fully.

You have some wine to calm your nerves. You’ve finished your glass, so you procrastinate by pouring yourself some more.

“It’s just… really childish and impulsive.”

Van laughs. “You’re only making me more interested!”

You huff out a laugh at that. “So… I guess it all started in high school. Which I went to in Michigan, by the way. It’s um,” You gesture with your hand, “It’s the state that looks like a mitten. Close to Canada. Anyway, I had this boyfriend in high school, and senior year he broke up with me.” You laugh at yourself, bringing a hand to your forehead for a moment. “God, this sounds so dramatic. But when you’re in high school you think you’re going to last forever with someone, your first love and all that, y’know.”

Van seems amused. “How old were you?” 

“Well I was like…” You scrunch your face up, thinking back, “14 when we first met, and we were close friends for a while, and then 15 when we actually started dating, and 18 when we broke up.”

“Right,” You plow on, “So, first love and all that good stuff. So we break up when we were 18, which honestly needed to happen. We just didn’t get along anymore but we were so comfortable being a couple by then, you know? We were different as adults, so naturally we break up, whatever. The point is I was fucking devastated.”

You take a deep breath, another drink, and try to prepare yourself to tell the rest of the story.

“So my best friend and I had always had it in our heads, I don’t even know why, that we wanted to come to L.A.”

“Mary?” Van cuts in.

“No, not Mary. I met Mary once I moved here.” You clear your throat, getting back on topic. “I think it’s because of the weather, honestly,” You laugh at your immaturity at that age. “We were so tired of Michigan winters. They’re fucking… cold. And my friend can sing, so naturally we’re thinking you get into L.A. and boom, you’re discovered.”

You gauge Van’s attention then. He’s still listening close.

“So after high school, we had both been saving up for what we thought was this imaginary sort of dream, but then I was broken up with, and depressed, and I kept seeing him everywhere because our town was kind of small, and so we decided… Let’s just pack up and leave!”

Van’s lips quirk up at that. “I was always the same way,” He interjects softly. “Small town thing. Your parents didn’t mind?”

“Well, I convinced them that UCLA was my dream school. So of course they couldn’t say much because I ended up being accepted into a really amazing school, and they had heard me talk about L.A. before. So we get here, and… y’know… Things just didn’t work out that way.”

“When do they ever?” Van jokes.

You nod in agreement around a quick bite of chicken. “Exactly!” You say, wiping the corners of your mouth with your napkin. “It costed so fucking much to live here, and we burned through our savings really fast, and… We ended up becoming even closer through that and we dated for a couple years, and I invested a lot of time into trying to get her discovered because we couldn’t afford rent, but then she got into the wrong group and was getting into cocaine, it was… Intense.”

Your palms are sweating from your admission, and you can’t get yourself to look Van in the eyes, heart racing. 

“So… yeah. Thankfully I’ve made a lot of friends here- the right kind, not the cocaine kind- and I got a really nice internship through UCLA and found an okay job, and me and her went our separate ways. And that’s when I met Mary, and she grew up here so she was able to show me around, and we’ve been inseparable ever since.”

You can feel anxiety clenching in your chest while your admitted interest in women still hangs in the air. You wish it still wasn’t so nerve-wracking to come out, and maybe it wouldn’t be except for the fact you and Van seem to really hit it off, and you would hate for this to be a dealbreaker for him. 

You finally manage to look away from where you’d been carefully inspecting a small stain you’d made on the tablecloth. Van’s leaned back from his plate, an easy smile spread over his face. His arms are crossed across his chest as he marvels at you.

“We’ve got more in common than I thought,” He says grinning. “We can both discuss our ex-girlfriends. Cheers.”

He reaches for his wine glass and you reach for yours too. If Van notices how your wine is trembling from the hand holding the glass, he doesn’t call out as you two clink your glasses together, relief starting to seep through you.

“I love that,” He remarks, still beaming. “Proper ‘escape the small town’ story. I wish mine was as interesting as yours.”

“You do not,” You roll your eyes good-naturedly. “Yours is better! You ended up actually getting discovered.”

“Lots of hard work, that’s all.” Van shrugs. 

Van tells a few lighthearted stories about struggling to get discovered while you guys finish up your meals. True to his word, he stays light on the wine in preparation to drive, spacing out only two glasses the whole time you’ve been here. You’re not sure how many you’ve had, but you figure it can’t be that many. The only telltale signs that let you know you’ve got alcohol in your system are the flush in your cheeks, the way the lights seem to shine a bit softer, and the way you can feel your eyes drifting over Van dreamily.

When the waitress brings the check Van reaches for his back pocket immediately, procuring a card from his wallet.

“You didn’t have to do that,” You say, your eyes widening in shock. “I was gonna pay for mine.” The cost of the entire bottle of wine, combined with both of your dinners floats in your mind.

One side of Van’s mouth lifts in a confused half-smile. “I said I was taking you out for dinner, didn’t I? Dunno if it means the same thing here, but if I’m taking you out why would you pay?”

“I mean, I just… Didn’t want to assume, I guess.” It’s burned you before, dates gone wrong where the check gets split by surprise. “It’s happened before.”

Van snorts. “Sounds fucking awful.”

You nod, eyes wide. “It really was.”

Your mind flips through a few of your worst dates, interrupted only by Van’s card being returned, you two sent on your way.

Van starts humming when you two meander out of the restaurant and across the street to his car, sidling into the front seats.

“Should I take you back to yours?” He asks as he gets the car started. “Or we could go back to mine. Watch a film or somethin’.”

There’s silence in the car while Van checks his phone. You decide to look at yours, too, checking the time. The night is still young.

“Back to yours sounds nice.” The wine makes your voice soft, betrays the way your heart skips at the suggestion.

Van licks his lips, still typing something. He looks up finally. “Mine?”

“Yeah.”

He gets the car into gear, pulling out of the parking space. With a few taps on a screen in the center of the dashboard his phone is connected by bluetooth and music rings out through the car. You recognize it as the song he was humming minutes ago.

You drive in silence for most of the ride, all talked out from dinner, but your interest piques when Van turns the music down.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure,” You say nervously. Your head tries to predict what’s coming next.

“The thing, with you and your ex. Was it a one time sort of deal? Or do you still play for both teams?”

You chew the inside of your cheek. “I still play for both. I’m bisexual.”

“Got it.”

“Why?” You feel yourself bristle. “Is it a problem?”

“Not at all,” Van shrugs, slowly turning the music back up. “Just wasn’t sure what to call it.”

\\

It takes about a half hour to get to Van’s, a journey that includes weaving through a winding, uphill street crammed with upscale homes. Van’s home is in a cluster at the top of the hill, and typing in the gate code reveals a long driveway up to a house surrounded by a tall thicket of bamboo.

“I love the bamboo,” You tell him as he pulls the car in front of the garage, but doesn’t bother to park it inside. “The worst part of living here is feeling like your neighbors are breathing down your neck.” When you step out of the car you soak the privacy in. You could easily be murdered with this level of seclusion, but the fact that you can still hear the bustling sounds of the city and a dog in the neighbor’s yard is reassuring. 

“Totally agree,” Van tells you, jingling his keys, “It’s most of the reason I chose this place. Can sunbathe totally naked and not feel like everyone’s watching me.”

Although Van delivers the joke completely deadpan, you burst into laughter, and in the soft glow of the porch light you can see him smile.

“M’not kidding!” He insists, pointing a finger towards the sky as he gets the door unlocked, letting you in first. “There’s a patio upstairs perfect for getting some sun.”

Inside, his house is decorated eerily similar to the restaurant you’d just been at, with glossy white floors, dark painted walls, and soft lamplight. 

“I’m gonna grab a beer,” Van says as he locks the front door and sets his keys on a small end table that’s covered in unopened mail. “You want anything?”

You think for a moment. “What do you have?”

“No idea, honestly,” Van snorts. He starts walking through the living room and you follow behind. He turns the corner to a dining area that looks pristine and untouched, and around another corner is the kitchen, all windows and clean appliances and glossy countertops. The only indications that anyone’s been in there are the few dirty dishes in the sink, the amazon prime packaging scattered on the kitchen island, and more than one unfinished mug of tea sitting on different surfaces. 

The windows in the kitchen look out into the backyard, where you marvel at the sparkling blue in-ground pool and what looks like a hot tub.

The sound of the fridge opening tears your eyes away from the windows.

“I’ve got, uh,” Van holds the fridge door open wide, the sound of glass clinking as he pulls a bottle of beer from one of the side pockets. “Some Coke, Dr. Pepper, lemonade…” He lets go of the door to pick up a bottle of orange juice, which he inspects carefully. “Some orange juice. Dunno if it’s good, but if you wanted to risk it be my guest.” He offers you a sheepish smile. “Haven’t made it to the shop in forever.”

“Coke’s good,” You tell him, and he sets one of the red cans on the island.

Van shuts the fridge. “Do you want ice?”

“Nah,” You shrug him off, “The can is fine.”

You use the tab to crack open your can while Van rustles through a drawer until he can find a bottle opener, getting his beer open. You two gravitate back to the living room, Van taking a seat on the dark, plush sectional in the center of the room.

He sets his beer down on the coffee table, no coaster in sight, before shucking his shoes off and stretching his long legs across the short end of the L shape. 

Taking your own shoes off buys you a moment of contemplation before you decide to sit down next to where he’s stretched out. There’s no space for you to stretch your legs out, but you’re comfortable folding them up on the couch with you, getting comfortable cross legged while Van procures the remote from somewhere, starting the TV up.

“Look at the moon,” You marvel quietly. The living room features an entire glass wall that leads to an outdoor patio, the moon and stars sending a white shimmering glow over the furniture.

Van doesn’t say anything, but when you turn your head to glance over at him he’s admiring it too before he meets your gaze. He still doesn’t speak, the moment doused in comfortable silence.

“Can I use this?” You ask him suddenly, your hand landing on a folded up blanket a few cushions away. 

“Course.”

You unravel the blanket and lay it over your lap while Van gets Netflix going.

“What do you wanna watch?” He asks when prompted to pick a profile. There are only two on the screen; Van and mary. You smile to yourself at the fact he shares an account with his mom as he clicks his.

“Um,” You look over the options on the screen. “Are you in the middle of anything?”

“Not really. Caught up on just about everything in Ireland.”

Van starts absentmindedly flipping through the trending now category, previews playing automatically.

“Have you seen that?” You ask when he hovers over one of the titles. “I heard it’s supposed to be really, really good.”

Van lets the trailer play out, detailing what looks to be a plot about infatuation and stalking. You can tell you’re both interested by the silence that falls over you.

“Sound good?” Van gets up to switch the lights off. The room is shrouded in darkness, Netflix lighting up his silhouette as he gets settled on the couch again. 

“Yeah,” You nod, “Let’s see if it lives up to the hype.”

You’re all too aware of your proximity to Van as the show starts. You can’t look over at him without him noticing considering it requires you to turn your head, but you can’t help but feel like you can sense his eyes on you. The result is you spending the first half sitting stiff as a board, paralyzed.

But the show lives up to it’s viral social media hype, and you soon become so engrossed that without really realizing it you’ve stretched your legs down the long side of the couch, your head coming to rest on the cushion you had been sitting on. Van passes you one of the throw pillows he’s been hogging, and when you elevate your head you’re so close you can hear his breathing.

The longer you watch, the more convinced you start to become that this date was all an elaborate plan devised by Van to kill you, and that he really did stalk you months ago in San Diego. Your mind wanders for two seconds, contemplating your current position on a stranger’s sofa, and suddenly the plot has taken a twist and the main character is having sex.

It’s almost like watching a sex scene with your parents in the room, although Van is anything but. You cringe as breathy moans ring out through the surround sound and you’re forced to watch a trainwreck of a scene where the the girl is getting fucked, hard, with her windows open, the stalker watching from the bushes across the street. It’s over quick, the character’s on-again-off-again boyfriend leaving as soon as the deed is done, but to your horror the scene only gets worse as the girl starts to hump a throw pillow in compensation for the orgasm she didn’t receive from her boyfriend, all the while the stalker starts jerking off in the bushes.

“Oh God,” You groan, turning your face to bury it in the throw pillow. “I literally can’t watch!”

Van chuckles as you listen to the rest of the scene play out.

“You’re missing it.” You can hear the delight in Van’s voice. “He’s about to blow his load right there on the street.”

“I wanna miss it,” You tell him, but still turn your head to peek at the screen. “Fucking creep.”

The ending of the scene is a crescendo of orgasms and moaning, the actress for the main character really laying it on porn-style for her big finale, while the stalker is abruptly interrupted by an oblivious woman asking him to hold the door, his orgasm incomplete.

“That was fucking creepy,” Van agrees. The episode isn’t done yet, but you can tell neither of you are paying attention to the remaining plot.

“Those windows are freaking me out,” You whine, gesturing to the windows that had previously brought you the view of the night sky, but that you’re now convinced have someone peeping through them.

Van heaves himself off of the couch. Before you can question him he’s crossed the room, pulling giant sheets of blinds down over the windows.

You sigh in relief, but it’s short lived. “But what if you’re the stalker?” You narrow your eyes at Van, who’s looking down at you as he heads back to his seat.

“I’m quite daft, then. Spending all this money on a wine-and-dine when I could’ve been outside your bedroom window for free.”

You make an exaggerated retching noise. Van laughs.

There’s a beat of silence, and then: “Is it really like that?”

You turn your head to peer up at him, propping your chin up on the overstuffed pillow. “Like what?”

“Like she did,” Van gestures towards the screen, “Where you fake it, and then the lad leaves, and you go back at it again.”

You frown as you ponder his question. “I’m sure for some girls it’s not.” Van’s eyes are trained on you, hanging onto your every word. “But as far as I know it usually goes something like that.”

“Pillow humping optional,” You add. “You can use your hand. Personally, I use a vibrator. Or the mood passes and you just go to sleep.”

You don’t know where this burst of boldness to talk about your sex life so openly came from, but Van looks a bit panicked as a result of it.

“And when we…” Van’s voice is low, and you watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows, his brows knitting together. “Did you…”

“That was genuine,” You reassure him, watching the relief wash over his face.

Van makes a noise in the back of his throat. “But you have? Before?”

“Faked it?”

Van nods.

It’s your turn to swallow. “Yeah. I have. Not with you. But yeah.”

“How, though?” Van scratches the back of his neck. “Y’know when you watch porn or somethin’ like that, you can tell they’re playing it up.”

You can feel a mischievous smile stretching across your face. “You sound curious.”

“I mean, kinda, yeah. And it’d be good to know. So you can’t fool me.” He offers a sheepish smile at his own joke.

“That would imply you need fooling,” You point out, your voice quiet. There’s no real need to whisper, but the heavy feeling of attraction that’s suddenly pressing down on you keeps you from speaking full volume, especially considering your proximity to Van.

Van doesn’t speak, only holds your gaze. He’s got the same look in his eye that he did outside of the hotel that night when he was openly checking you out. You do your best to match it, your mind quickly wrapping around a plan. Now was as good a time as any other to make your move.

“Well, I mean,” You break his gaze, looking around the room instead. “It ruins the magic if you know it’s fake.” You give an exaggerated sigh. “But for you, I’ll make an exception.”

You sit yourself upright, Van carefully watching your every move.

“We gotta set the scene, though,” You tell him, standing up from the couch and wriggling your pants down your legs. “Get yours off too,” You tell him.

Van doesn’t question it, getting down to his briefs and peeling off his socks after he watches you take off your own. 

You originally planned to keep your shirt on, to leave something to Van’s imagination, but you catch him admiring your black lace underwear and can’t resist revealing the rest of the matching set.

“Just want it to feel as real as possible,” You’re as nonchalant as possible, your voice the only sound in the quiet room. You realize then that Van’s muted the TV.

“Right,” Van agrees, fumbling with the buttons lining the front of his shirt. There’s no other layers underneath, so he’s shirtless in no time. “Now what?”

You pretend to think about it only to drag his anticipation out a few moments longer. While you torment him your eyes drag up and down his body, drinking in the familiar sight.

“Say we’re doing something like this,” You murmur, stepping over to where he’s still stretched out. You slide a leg over his waist, and with the soft slide of skin and fabric you’re settled on his lap, mimicking a riding position. He’s hard in his underwear, pressing against you through the cotton of his underwear and the lace of yours. 

“Like I’m riding you,” You clarify, shifting in Van’s lap. You feel him tense up beneath you.

“Put your hands here,” You prompt him, gently grabbing his wrists and bringing them to rest on your sides. His hands feel hesitant to make contact with you at first, but at your encouragement he holds onto your sides firmly.

“Now, the first step is build up.” Your voice stays low, like you’re trading secrets with him. “It’s not gonna be realistic without warning. Gotta spend some time doing something like this…” Without further ado you’re grinding against him through your underwear, his fingertips pressing into your flesh. 

It’s been way too long since you’ve had the experience of feeling someone’s solid, warm body beneath you, since you’ve felt someone want you so bad. Your first couple of breathy moans don’t even feel fake as you relish in the warm friction, losing control for a beat when your hips jerk on their own accord. “Van, fuck.”

His fingers squeeze you.

“Yeah, like that.” You piggyback off of his enthusiasm. You let your hips apply more pressure to his, but as good as it feels there’s no dry humping that could soothe your ache. Van doesn’t have to know that, though, and you let another desperate sounding noise come up from the back of your throat. Van’s thighs twitch beneath you.

You had been holding onto Van’s waist to balance yourself, but suddenly you move one of your palms to his side and feel him jolt. You look at him then, your face contorting into a look of mild surprise.

“I’m close.” You say it as if you were caught off guard. Van looks like an even mix of seduced and stunned, and the way he’s looking at you makes you close your eyes, scrunch your face up. “I’m, uh,” You pant, “I’m gonna-”

Before you can get to the grand finale your body is knocked off balance, suddenly becoming pressed into the soft cushions. 

“Fucking stop,” Van sounds pained as he kisses you, hard. Your body melts into the couch, the sweet and rare feeling of a plan going perfectly warming your body from the inside out. You moan into the kiss.

“I take it back,” He tells you before another bruising kiss. “I don’t wanna know what it sounds like.”

“How are you gonna know?” You push out between genuine gasps for air as Van starts kissing your neck. You arch into it.

“Tell me the truth,” He begs, resting his forehead against your shoulder. You can feel how clammy he is. “Please. Save that stuff for someone else. Tell me the truth.”

You don’t respond, silence in the air as you both catch your breath.

“I’ve got no use for sex that sounds straight out of a porno.” Van lifts his head, and you flinch at the intensity in his eyes. “I’d rather it be fucking real. No bullshit. If you’re having a good time, sure, say it. But if you’re not, say that too.”

It’s a rather serious take on something you’d thought was lighthearted. You’d never thought twice about faking orgasms. As far as you knew it was quite customary. You’d always figured the amount of times you’d done it had been on the lighter side, too. It’s not like you’d never had one, a fate some women seemed doomed to. But the way Van’s looking at you gives a sudden gravity to your actions.

“No bullshit,” You say firmly. You unwedge one of your hands from where it’s been pressed into the crack of the sofa, and offer Van your pinky.

Van’s intensity breaks as he smiles at the gesture. There’s a shift in his weight before he can get a hand free to loop his pinky finger with yours. “No bullshit.”

Then he’s kissing you again, your head forced back against the cushions of the couch, paralyzed between the furniture and his body. He tastes like the beer he’s been drinking and the butter he’d drenched his lobster in. It should be a bad combination, but it’s so uniquely Van you can’t complain. Not to mention he’s still at the top of your makeout leaderboard, a realization that brings your fingers into his hair.

“Show me your room,” You tell him when you break apart for air.

“It’s two floors up,” Van groans. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” You laugh at his hesitation to roll off of you.

“There’s a guest bedroom right there.” Van nods toward the end of the hall past the front door.

You consider for a moment. “With windows?” You ask finally. When Van nods, you crinkle your nose in distaste.

“Your room,” You insist, and he finally climbs off of you. As he clicks the TV off you make the sudden decision to grab for the throw blanket you’d been using, wrapping it around your body as if it was a towel.

“What?” You ask when you notice him staring at you in amusement. “It’s fucking cold in here. Don’t suppose you want me to put more clothes on.”

“Deffo not,” Van agrees, and leads the trek up the stairs.

Van’s bedroom is average size, a fact which catches you off guard. You hadn’t known what to expect based on the rest of the house, but besides the giant glass windows that panel the wall the bed faces (which Van covers immediately), and the luxurious attached bathroom, his room is quite ordinary. There’s a suitcase resting open on the floor, and Van has to move an acoustic guitar that was resting on the bed, but otherwise things seem clean. There’s an overfilled hamper in the corner, but you were pleased he owned a hamper at all. 

As soon as the guitar is moved you join Van in getting under the covers, shedding your makeshift robe on the floor. The transition back into making out is seamless.

“I can show you for real,” You whisper, surprised to find your bold streak hasn’t run out.

Van makes what sounds like a confused noise in the back of his throat, his lips consumed with being pressed against yours, but as soon as you hook a leg over his waist and start shifting him onto his back he gets the hint.

“You want me to?” You ask him softly, although you’ve got a good feeling you already know the answer. 

“Shit,” Van hisses when you slip a hand into his underwear, easing his dick out. “Yeah.”

It’s your first time getting a hand around him properly, and you relish in the weight of him against your palm, the way the head of him is already swollen, peeking out of his foreskin. You give him a few experimental tugs, only to be encouraged by a groan. As much as you want to continue, his briefs are getting in the way.

There’s a bit of clamoring while you two undress fully, but it doesn’t dampen the mood in the slightest. 

“That’s better,” You murmur when you’re seated back on his thighs, hand wrapped around him again. You know you should stop, considering you’ve been teasing him for a while already, but the control you’ve got over him is too intoxicating, watching him clench and groan as you experiment with different strokes.

“Where do you keep the condoms?” You ask after keeping the pace with relentless, quick tugs until you felt like he was ready. The only sound in the room is the soft noise of his foreskin sliding over him, but it feels like it echoes.

“There,” Van pants, throwing his arm in a gesture towards one of the bedside tables. You shift slightly off of his lap, your clit pressing against the soft skin of his hip while you dig through the top drawer. The only light in the room is from the soft glow of the city against the blinds, but it’s just enough for you to be able to locate a foil packet before handing it off to Van.

After the ripping of the wrapper, the room falls silent except for the harsh noise of breathing. Van’s hands bump against you clumsily while he gets himself wrapped, and you try to match your breathing to his slow, deep breaths. You sound more worked up than him, your anxiety making your breaths shallow and harsh.

Van brushes one of his hands against your thigh while he withdraws his hands, signaling he’s done.

This time when you slip a hand around him you’re gentle, careful not to disturb the thin layer of latex you can feel stretched over him. “Ready?”

You’re already shifting into position, rearing up onto your knees and maneuvering above him. Waiting for the green light.

“Yeah,” Van chuckles. “Let’s have it.”

The room goes quiet again, Van waiting with baited breath as you position him. You swallow hard, trying to soothe the fluttering in your stomach as you start to lower down on him.

It’s unceremonious, a hushed and slow process. There’s no dramatic sinking down like there is in porn, no loud screams of pleasure. It’s a slow stretch as your body accommodates him, an active effort to keep your balance as you make small shifts to try different angles. There’s the occasional sharp breath, but you’re not sure if it’s from Van or if you’re doing it without meaning to.

There’s a collective sigh of relief when you’re fully seated, your thighs trembling against his from the stretch. You’re terribly out of practice with this, and you’re mentally kicking your past self for her confidence while your anxiety starts to prepare you for Van’s disappointment. 

Your nerves and self-consciousness mix together to form a hot flush on your face, one you’re grateful Van can’t see. You make a last-ditch effort for a deep breath before you shift your hips, preparing to proceed.

You’d forgotten how good this was. Or maybe it wasn’t actually ever this good; maybe it’s just Van. But as soon as you get a pace going any nerves melt away, replaced instead with electricity that buzzes down your spine, through your hips. It zings it’s way across your thighs, making any discomfort worth it as you make sure to lower yourself completely every single time, feeling yourself fill up.

Van’s got a white knuckle grip on the sheets, but you’re barely noticing his reactions. It’s like you’re possessed, your body moving without your control as you chase the feeling. What feeling exactly, you’re not sure; there’s the friction of him sliding in and out of you, the feeling of fullness that punches you in the gut every time you lower down, and the white-hot spots you can get him to hit depending on the angle. They all mix together, heat and tingling and sparks that have you hunched over, hands pressed into his chest, your hips erratic.

Your thighs start to fail you, and when the ache becomes unbearable you settle for staying seated, keeping him fully inside of you as you shift around, feeling him rub against your walls. You clench experimentally, just to see if there’s a way to get him deeper, closer.

You’re only jolted from your own thoughts at the sound of Van moaning. It’s loud, the volume paired with the vulnerability of the sound startling you. 

You look down at him then. He’s got his forearm thrown over his eyes, and his hair’s a mess against the mattress, having pushed the pillows awry without you noticing. His mouth opens, lips forming a silent shape before he finally chokes the word out: “Stop.”

His other hand is pressed against your thigh, although you don’t remember it being there. His fingers dig into your skin. “Stop,” He says again, voice strained.

Your hips slow, any pleasure in your entire body fizzling away in half of a second. Your self consciousness comes crashing down over you in one suffocating wave as you hold completely still, confused.

You must’ve fucked up. Must’ve read the situation wrong, not realized that Van wasn’t into it. Must’ve heard his moan wrong. Must’ve missed something important. You feel the sweat that’d been developing on your forehead go cold as you mentally search for your fatal mistake. 

“Is something wrong?” You ask hesitantly. You’re still frozen, careful not to move a muscle while you await Van’s response.

“No,” Van chokes out. He lifts his arm from where it’s obscuring his face, running his hand through his hair instead. You can see his bicep flex as he pulls his own hair by the crown of his head. “You’re incredible, fuck. I can’t fucking stand this anymore. Switch me.”

His praise delivers an instant wave of relief, one that has you beaming down at him. He returns the smile weakly as you unseat yourself, plopping down on the soft mattress while he scrambles into the new position. 

“Scared the shit out of me.” You don’t know why you admit it. Maybe your brain is too foggy for censors. “Thought I was doing horrible.”

“Nah, fuck that.” Van’s lining up again. “Could just feel you getting tired. Figured I could return the favor.”

He takes your cue from the way you open your thighs wider, shift your hips up to meet him. He slides in easily, and as the shock of the interruption fades away you can feel your orgasm coming back to the surface, just as strong as it’d been previously.

Van takes his favor-returning duties seriously, fucking you with all he’s got. It’s different from last time. You’ve already set the rules and he follows them meticulously: sudden thrusts in, followed by a torturous pause so you can fully appreciate him inside of you before a long, slow withdraw where you can feel every inch of him. It’s too much and not enough at the same time, and when you’re on the brink you haul him in with a hand on his jaw for a kiss, gasping for air against his open mouth.

Van comes first despite his heroic efforts to hold off. Your only warning is a few moments of loose hips before he’s cursing, his hand slapping the headboard as he clenches it, exhaling your name.

Your only response is to kiss him. His lips are soft and pliant, moving easily against yours now that any tension has leaked out of his body, and you slip a hand between your bodies, desperate to feel as relaxed as him.

“Don’t,” Van slurs. Your fingers had already started tight circles against your clit, but Van bumps your hand away. “Quit, lemme.”

“I can do it,” You huff, your desperation putting you on edge.

“I know you can.” You can hear the amusement in Van’s voice as he pulls out and ties off the condom, leaning over to deposit it in a trash can you didn’t know existed. “But m’not inept either.”

After another impatient huff from you, Van’s fingertips are pressed tight against your clit, working it in loose circles. He doesn’t linger too low and you’re grateful for that, already feeling the tenderness start to catch up to you. He’s careful and precise, hanging onto your every noise as he tries to get it right, and when he succeeds you reward him by calling out his name over, and over, and over.

To your surprise, you open your eyes to Van sticking the fingers he’d touched you with into his mouth without any hesitation. 

Your eyes feel like they’re about to bug out of your head. “Why are you doing that?”

There’s a wet noise as Van’s lips release his fingers. “Needed to clean ‘em off.”

“You could’ve asked me to pass you something. The blanket’s right here.” You reach to the floor and grab the soft fabric, showing it to him for emphasis.

Van just looks at you quizzically, cocking his head. “Why would I wipe off on a blanket?”

“I just, y’know,” You flounder for an explanation, especially under Van’s gaze. “If you’re not into the taste, or something. I dunno.”

Van shrugs. “Into your taste just fine.”

You can’t keep the surprise off of your face. “Oh. Alright.”

“I’ll have to show you next time,” Van says with a joking wink before getting up, heading for the bathroom.

As soon as he’s turned his back you bury your face in nearest pillow, beaming into it. Next time. 

You sit up straight when you hear the toilet flush, regaining your composure. 

When Van comes back into the bedroom he immediately grabs for a pack of cigarettes and a lighter resting on the bedside table. He offers you the box, but this time you shake your head.

“Let’s see how these sheets look,” He says, cigarette bobbing loosely between his lips as he makes the few strides to the bedroom door, lifting the dimmer and illuminating the room.

It feels out of place to be naked with the lights on, and you reach over and grab the throw blanket off of the floor, wrapping it around yourself again as you stand to take your turn using the bathroom. You examine the sheets with Van, and they look no worse for wear except for a slight wet spot marking the spot on the bed where you’d came.

“Just that bit,” You acknowledge, gesturing to the spot. “Sorry.”

Van pulls the cigarette from his mouth, rolling his eyes playfully as he exhales smoke. “It’s nothin’. It’ll be dry in a few seconds. Go freshen up, love.”

Your cheeks heat up at the nickname, and you head for the en suite so Van doesn’t see.

“Do you need anything from downstairs?” You ask after you’ve taken your customary after-sex pee. “I gotta go get my clothes.”

Van’s perched on the remade bed, finishing off his cigarette in only his briefs. “You’re gonna put your clothes back on?”

“I mean, I gotta wear clothes in the Uber,” You joke.

“You don’t have to Uber home,” Van says, ashing the butt of his cigarette out in an ashtray. “I was gonna make us a fry up tomorrow.”

His britishness catches you off guard, and you laugh. “I have no idea what that is.”

“Oh, no way. It’s a big breakfast!” He gestures with his hands, “Eggs, bacon, sausage, the whole works! It’s fucking class. What d’ya say?”

You hold up your hands in playful surrender, even though it causes your blanket to sag. “I was only leaving because I didn’t know what you had going on! But that sounds good.”

You try not to read too much into how pleased Van looks at your agreement to stay.

“But I’ve still gotta go downstairs and get my bag,” You tell him, “So do you still need anything?”

“I’ll go with ya.” Van lights his second cigarette. “Could use a cup of tea.”

You two return to the mess you’ve made of the living room; throw pillows smushed from being under your bodies, clothes strewn on the floor, drinks lukewarm on the table now. Van takes your can of Coke and his empty beer bottle around the corner into the kitchen, while you gather up your clothes and purse before following him.

“Ugh, ready to take these things out,” You complain, fishing through your bag for the contact case you’d packed. You hadn’t wanted to assume Van would want you to stay over, but it was always best to be prepared.

“Take what out?” Van mumbles, turning to look at you from where he was standing over the stove babysitting a tea kettle.

“My contacts.” You open the case up on the island, not bothering to wash your hands before getting the dry lenses out easily with your finger, depositing them in the fresh solution you’d been sure to fill the case with. Van watches the whole spectacle curiously.

Even though your vision is blurry once you’re done sealing the case and putting it back in your bag, you can still see Van’s smirk.

“What?”

“Nothin’,” Van sing-songs, his voice going up an octave. “Seems like you came pretty prepared, s’all.”

You scoff. “I take a contact case with me everywhere, thank you very much,” You lie.

Van snorts. “With the liquid already in it?”

You blanch, caught. Van laughs in delight.

“Oh, shut up,” You huff. “How about you tell me about that breakfast you already planned for us, huh?” You make your way around the island to him, gently jabbing him in the stomach. He pokes you back. It’s tit-for-tat until you’re both laughing, interrupted only by the tea kettle coming to a boil.

By the time you’re back upstairs, Van nursing a warm mug of tea, your post-orgasm exhaustion is at its peak. It had taken all your strength to climb the two flights of stairs, and you don’t think twice about crawling into bed wearing only your underwear until you hear Van fussing with the closet door.

“Here,” He takes a plain black t-shirt off of a hanger, tossing it to you. You accept it graciously, slipping it on before tucking yourself under the sheets, eyelids heavy.

When Van slides into bed next to you he doesn’t seem ready to sleep, picking up his mug of tea instead.

“Jet lagged?” You ask, peering up at him from your spot nestled in his blankets. Everything smells deliciously like him, and you have to actively resist the urge to look like a creep that sniffs everything.

“Kinda,” Van smiles down at you. “Don’t sleep much in general, though. Always been quite hyper.”

His declaration doesn’t surprise you. Considering all the fidgeting, humming, toe-tapping, and fingertip drumming he seems to be doing every moment, you have no doubts about his boundless energy. 

“Hm,” You murmur, yawning. “Well, lucky you.” You pat his leg under the blankets before flipping over.

You can’t help but imagine what it might be like to actually see Van tired. What it might be like for him to lay with you in bed, your body wrapped around his. With that on your mind, you doze off quick.

\\

You’re disoriented when you open your eyes, expecting to be in your own bedroom. Instead you’re greeted by the bright L.A. sunlight, the shades pulled across the window seemingly useless in filtering it out.

Van’s not in bed. There’s his mug from last night on the nightstand, and the blankets and pillows are ruffled, but the bathroom is clearly empty.

You’d totally forgotten to ask him for a phone charger last night, something you only remember when you go to check the time only to be greeted with an unresponsive screen. 

You decide to climb out of bed and see if Van’s actually following through on his promise of breakfast. It’s foreign to you, wandering around a stranger’s house. You’re usually the type to roll back over and go to sleep until you know for sure other people are awake. You’ve never been the one to make yourself at home, using the kitchen or the television without permission. But considering Van doesn’t seem the type to head back to bed, this seemed like your best bet.

Midway down the first staircase you realize that you don’t have pants on. You could head back upstairs and grab your clothes but decide against it, praying Van’s not the type to have company at this time.

Thankfully Van’s right where you anticipated. You hear his singing ringing out through the living area before you’ve even turned the corner to the kitchen, along with the clatter of pots and pans. The acoustic guitar that had been resting on the bed last night is propped against the coffee table now. He must’ve been up for a while now.

“Hey,” You say softly when you round the corner. It’s only for Van’s benefit, so he’s not startled by your presence, but he doesn’t miss a beat in the song he’s singing, only grinning at you as he continues. You smile to yourself when his back is turned. Of course he’s not one to scare easily.

He’s definitely been to sleep, considering his pillow-mussed hair and the fact he’s still only in his underwear. You admire the way the muscles in his back flex as he scours through the fridge, procuring ingredients.

“What time is it?” You ask, peering around for any sort of microwave or oven clock.

“Half nine,” Van chirps, bumping the fridge door closed with his hip, a carton of eggs and a frozen pack of bacon in his hands.

“Oh.” You intertwine your fingers together. “So, uh. Is that, like, eight-thirty or nine-thirty…?”

“Nine-thirty,” Van elaborates. He glances at you over his shoulder from his position at the counter. “Do you not say that here?”

“I’ve never heard it,” You shrug. Van nods as he processes your answer.

“So, what are you making again?” You stop leaning on the island in favor of approaching the counter, looking over the various foods sitting out. “A stir fry?”

“Well, about that…” Van says sheepishly, opening the carton of eggs. “I was gonna do a whole fry up, but like I said, I haven’t been to the shops in forever. So how do you feel about just eggs, bacon, toast?”

“Sounds lovely,” You tell him, continuing to hover around him.

Van cracks whatever eggs are left in the carton into a mixing bowl, leaving the eggshells in the nearby sink.

“Do you need any help?” You ask, feeling terribly annoying while you just watch.

“Nah.” Van shrugs you off. “Just keep me company.”

“I’ll sit down, then, instead of being in your personal space.”

“You’re gonna sit all the way over there?” Van whines when you tug one of the island stools out to sit on.

“There’s no other place to sit!” You exclaim.

“Right here,” Van slaps his palm down on the counter.

“I don’t have pants on!” You insist. “I’m not gonna put my bare ass on your kitchen counters.”

“I need you over here!” Van argues. “I need someone to help supervise!”

“Then how about I pull the stool closer?” You start to drag your seat over the tile floor.

“Then it’ll just be in the way. Come sit up here and talk to me.”

You pretend to be inconvenienced by his request, sighing as you hoist yourself up on a section of counter not currently being used to prepare food. The marble is cold against the back of your thighs, and you cringe.

You watch Van diligently mix the eggs with some milk using a whisk. With the way his head’s bent, you can see how crooked the part of his hair has become from sleep.

“C’mere,” You gesture. Van looks up from what he’s doing.

“Your hair is driving me nuts,” You elaborate. When he’s looking up at you it’s even more unruly.

Van abandons the mixing bowl, setting it aside in favor of coming to stand in front of you. 

“You don’t like my morning hair?” He teases. He lets you maneuver the angle of his head and stands there patiently as you start to pick at the strands.

“Love it,” You assure him, “But if I’m going to supervise I’ve got to make sure you look presentable.” Once his part is sitting correctly you comb your fingers through the ends, managing to get about half of them to lay uniformly. It’s an improvement. You pat his shoulder, satisfied.

When he looks up at you, your faces are awkwardly close.

“Thanks,” Van murmurs, and you watch the way his eyes dart down to your lips before flickering back up. Your hand still hasn’t left his shoulder.

“Yeah,” Is all you manage to say, any witty or funny remarks disintegrating on your tongue. You wait for an interruption, for Van to jerk away and remember the food he needs to tend to. But he doesn’t.

His lips press into yours instead. It’s the first time you guys have kissed without an impending sense of urgency. Van brings his hands up to rest on your waist, his fingertips fidgeting with the hem of your borrowed shirt. You sling your arms around his neck, tugging him closer, savoring every moment.

You spread your knees apart, making space for him to fit his hips between them, pleased to get him even closer.

Van pulls away to breathe and you rest your head on his shoulder, trying to hide your smile. It occurs to you when you turn your face and admire the long lines of his neck that you’ve never paid much attention to it. 

You can feel Van melting into your arms as you start at his shoulder and mouthe your way up. You don’t intend to leave any marks, but that doesn’t stop you from letting your teeth graze him a couple times so you can hear the way he sucks the air through his teeth at the feeling. You can feel his pulse right at his jaw, and you press your lips there firmly for a moment, marveling at how his pulse skitters against his skin.

“Christ,” Van murmurs. Your lips curve into a smile where they’re pressed against him.

You’d planned to be done at his jaw, but curiosity gets the better of you and you let your lips travel higher, trying to feel for his pulse behind his ear. The ends of his hair tickle your nose as you search for it, but feeling his heart stutter again is worth it.

When Van can’t take anymore he turns his head, bringing his lips to yours. Your hand comes to rest on the side of the neck and you don’t know if you’re imagining it but Van seems to lean into it. You tense your fingertips, digging them into his skin just slightly, experimentally, and Van deepens the kiss. 

You make a small, satisfied noise as you break away from him. “You don’t happen to keep condoms in your kitchen, do you?”

You’d been feeling Van get hard the entire time, but when he pulls away you marvel at how terrible he is at concealing his desire; his pupils are blown, there’s a fresh flush to his cheeks, and his chest is visibly rising with every breath.

“I don’t, no,” He runs his hand through his hair, successfully reversing your attempts to make him look presentable. “I’ll go grab one from my wallet.”

“Hurry,” You urge him, pleased at how quickly he turns to leave the kitchen. He’s still just as handsome from behind, and you marvel at how his briefs hug his ass before he spins, catching you.

“Stop ogling at me!” He teases. You stick your tongue out at him.

With Van gone, it’s just you and the abandoned mixing bowl of eggs alone in the kitchen. You take a deep breath, kick your legs out from the counter awkwardly, and count the seconds until he returns, condom in hand.

“Okay,” He sets the condom down on the counter, and loops his fingers into the waistband of your underwear. “Hips up,” He quips.

You obey, pressing your palms flat against the counter so you can get your hips into the air and Van can get your underwear down. Van tugs his own briefs down his legs easily, kicking them away. You watch them slide across the kitchen tile.

Van opens the condom, giving himself a few quick tugs in preparation to roll it on. At the sight of him you swallow nervously, the visual reminder bringing the ache between your legs to the forefront of your attention.

“Go easy on me, okay?” You laugh, but the slight waver of your voice betrays your nerves. Van’s too smart for any sugarcoating. His blue eyes snap up to meet your gaze, all seriousness, a silent questioning.

You give him a slight smile, crinkling your nose. “I’m sore.”

Realization dawns over him. “Gotcha,” He nods.

Van positions himself between your knees, using his hands on your hips to gently guide you to the edge of the counter.

“I feel like I’m gonna fall off,” You whine. Van only smiles, still looking down at your bodies.

“I need you right here at the edge,” He explains, letting go of you when he’s satisfied. 

“You sound like an expert.” It’s a dangerous joke to make, something twisting at your stomach at the sudden thought of other girls having this same kind of morning with Van.

“Not even fucking close,” He assures you, and your stomach unknots.

He works on lining himself up, but you can tell the way your body is curved in order to have your arms wrapped around his shoulders is making an odd angle that’ll be uncomfortable. 

“Don’t go yet,” You plead, suddenly desperate to try a different position. He stills, his eyes flickering to yours.

“This angle isn’t gonna work,” You answer his unspoken question. “I think I need to…” 

You don’t finish the rest of your sentence, opting to carefully lean back instead. You have to bend your neck to fit under the cabinet, and push a knife block a little off to the side, but eventually your shoulders come to rest on the cool tile of the wall. It’s uncomfortable, to say the least, but it allows your hips to tilt back. Your hands grapple for the most comfortable way to keep yourself from slipping off of the edge of the marble.

Van looks amused. “You good?”

You nod.

“We don’t have to do it in here you know,” He gestures with his hand towards the exit to the kitchen. “I can lay you out on the couch or somethin’.”

“In here’s fine,” You insist. You’d never had kitchen sex before, and your curiosity about the experience was stronger than the ache in your neck. 

Van playfully throws his hands up in surrender. “Okay then,” He laughs, before positioning your hips again and lining himself up for the second time. “You ready, then?”

With your eager nod Van slides in. He goes slow, his brow furrowed. You can tell he’s taking your request to be gentle to heart.

He’s careful not to bottom out, and from your position sitting back can see the restraint he’s exercising, how tight and rigid his body stays while he starts thrusting, shallow, slow.

It aches but only slightly, and it’s an incredible reminder of last night. Your hands scrabble against the countertop, desperate for anything to hold on to. They find nothing. There’s nothing you can do except hold as still as possible to keep your balance.

Van’s an absolute vision, the morning sun beaming through through the kitchen and making him glow. You watch the sweat glisten on his chest, the way he looks like he’s so lost in you he wants to close his eyes. He seems determined to keep them open, watching your every expression. You can see the muscles in his stomach flex with each movement, the angle of the sunlight creating a tiny shadow near his bellybutton. It’s too much. You close your eyes.

That only makes it worse, though, only forces you to focus solely on how the movement of him against you feels. You’re forced to lay there, completely still, the image of Van burned behind your eyelids. The pleasure is making you feel like you’re about to crawl out of your skin, and not having an outlet is driving you nuts. You slap your sweaty palm against the countertop. Van doesn’t even flinch.

“Holy shit,” You gasp, tipping your head back against the cool tile, finally opening your eyes to the bottom of the wooden cabinet. “I can’t fucking take this anymore,” You heave.

Van’s forced to stop thrusting when you manage to get your legs around his waist, bringing his hips flush against yours as you work your way back into the sitting position you were originally in before you had the idea to sit back. There’s the uncomfortable tickle in your stomach as the angle changes, and you hope things will work this way. At this point, anything feels better than laying there helplessly.

“Sorry,” You breathe, back to wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a sloppy yet gratifying kiss.

“Don’t be,” Van brings your lips together again. He’s got he slightest bit of stubble growing. It’s too light to be visible, but you feel the slight scratch of it against your lips and bring your palm up to rub your thumb over his jawline, feeling the hairs.

You keep your legs around Van’s waist but relax them enough so that he’s got room to move. He takes it as an invitation, starting to fuck into you again, and makes a noise low in his throat. You can’t decipher if it’s from pleasure or discomfort, but it sounds urgent. 

“Okay?” You ask, craning your neck away from where you’d been examining his freckles in extreme detail, getting a full view of his face instead.

“Yeah.”

You raise your eyebrows at how strained his voice sounds.

Van runs his hand through his hair, the strands that hang near his forehead damp with sweat.

You’ve stopped watching his face, your eyes instead wandering to the top of his shoulder, the little freckles that pepper him there. You only see his expression out of your peripheral vision when he finally speaks, his voice low: “It’s fucking tight.”

He sounded hesitant to say it, as if worried you’d take offence, but instead you lean over to start kissing the freckles on his shoulder you’d just longingly gazed at. Your stomach lights up at the way he sounded, vulnerable and maybe shy, different from the ever-confident Van you’re used to. You hide your smile in his neck and breathe in his scent while you’re there.

You could already tell you wouldn’t be able to come in this new position, last night’s ache becoming slightly too pronounced, but you were more than happy to let Van keep going. You spend the time alternating between kissing him deeply and kissing his neck, and letting your hands wander over any bit of his skin you can reach. An orgasm almost sneaks up on you, your thighs tensing of their own accord, but Van gets there first. It’s the quietest he’s ever been, shaking through it breathlessly, head pressed into your neck, your fingers still playing with the ends of his hair, which looks almost blonde in the morning sun.

Van catches your cringe as he pulls out.

“Did it hurt?” He asks, voice rough.

“Nothing serious,” You assure him. “It was worth it.”

He ties the condom off and opens one of the cupboard doors below you, leaning over to deposit it in the trash.

It takes a second for your head to wrap around the way he sinks to his knees suddenly.

“What are you doing?” You sound more frantic than you’d meant to.

“You’re sensitive, yeah?” Van raises his eyebrows at you for confirmation. You nod, stunned to silence.

“This is about as gentle as it gets,” He shrugs. “As long as you’re good with it?”

“Um, yeah,” You stammer. “You could give it a try.”

It’s hard to form words correctly when Van’s face is right between your legs, looking at you in all your after-sex glory. You have to actively resist the urge to squirm away and cover yourself, your cheeks heating in self-consciousness.

If Van notices your discomfort he doesn’t show it, only looking pleased that you’ve given him permission.

You can’t stand watching him lean forward, opting instead to tip your head back towards the ceiling and squeeze your eyes shut, waiting for him to begin.

You tense up when you feel it. Van’s warm breath tickles you before you feel the wet slide of his tongue against you. You jolt. He gives a few more experimental licks, slow and languid, moving around, and your fingers tangle in his hair instinctually.

It’s not that you don’t want it. It’d be a lie to say you’ve never thought back on that night in San Diego and wondered absentmindedly about things taking a different turn in his hotel room. Your sleepy mind curiously twisting the events, wondering if he’d be any good at this.

But as curious as you were, the thing about head is it always just seemed to be a grand waste of time for you. On the very few occasions you’d been on the receiving end, the act had consisted of slimy, uncomfortable exploration with movements too inconsistent to get you anywhere. And worse, it was treated as a gift, one you were inevitably supposed to return. The lackluster results along with the heavy implications meant you tended to keep your distance.

But after some exploration Van seems locked in on his mission. You dare to peer down at him when you feel him start to find a rhythm, one that has your legs opening wider without your control. His eyes are squeezed shut, his nose brushing against you with every lick, and when he exhales hot air you can’t help but shiver.

You let go of his hair, your knuckles aching from your tight grip, but Van makes a noise. It’s too quiet for you to hear, but you jerk as you feel the vibrations against you, the message loud and clear. You rush to grab his hair again, flustered.

The better it starts to feel the more apparent it becomes that he’s in the wrong spot, a different area starting to throb for his attention. Without really thinking about it you use his hair to herd him to the other spot. He’s just licked firmly against it, your legs quivering, when he sits back on his knees.

“Done?” You ask, surprised to hear disappointment in your tone.

“Nah,” Van wipes at his mouth with the back of his hand. “Need a breath.” 

Your shoulders sag with a relief you didn’t know you felt.

“How is it?” He croaks, peering up at you.

“Good,” You answer out of habit, before realizing how true it is. “Really, really good.”

“You like the spot I was in?” He inquires, gearing up to keep going. The way he sets his jaw in determination makes your mouth go dry.

“The one higher up,” You clarify, your voice only slightly above a whisper. “Yeah.”

And without further ado he’s back at it, resuming in exactly the same spot, a miracle that leaves you speechless.

There’s nothing unexpected about your orgasm. It’s a steady build, the pressure between your legs becoming more and more unbearable as Van’s tongue works firmly against you. He incorporates his lips in some mysterious way you’ve never experienced, and uses his palms to press your thighs open when you’re too clenched to keep them open yourself. He’s eager to please, treating any noises you let slip as feedback. You moan his name as praise and Van preens under the attention.

It’s a long descent back to Earth, your head spinning when it’s all over. The first thing you realize is that you’re awkwardly petting Van’s hair, smoothing your palms over the strands subconsciously. You pull your hands away as Van leans back, catching his breath.

“Sorry,” You murmur.

“Hm?” Van busies himself wiping his mouth. You can see his chin glistening from you.

Your head’s too foggy to clearly remember why you even said sorry, let alone explain it to Van. “I dunno,” You say instead.

“Can you pass me one of those?” Van asks, gesturing to a roll of paper towel that’s within arm’s reach of you. You rip away a few squares for him and pass them over.

“That went better than expected,” You confess breathlessly.

“Yeah?” Van cocks his head, looking amused. “Thought I wouldn’t be any good?”

“Not at all! I mean- that’s not what I meant,” You giggle, trying to find the right words somewhere in your haze. “I’m just surprised I came. It’s never happened from that.”

Van blinks at you. “No shit?”

“Yeah, I’ve never. Until now. But I don’t really let anyone do that. Swore it off a few years ago.”

“But you let me?”

“I mean, yeah,” You shrug. “I’ve never had anyone, like, want to. I’m not gonna beg for something useless.”

“Never had anyone want to?” Van looks stunned as he uses the edge of the counter to help himself off of his knees. “Who the fuck have you been with?”

It sounds hypothetical, so you don’t answer. Van shakes his head to himself as he leans over, washing his hands in the sink.

“We’ll have to do it again sometime. Properly. That angle was kind of shit.”

You smile. “I mean, I thought it was pretty nice.”

Van smiles too, sliding down the counter so he’s in front of you. He leans in for a kiss, and even though you can taste yourself on his lips you let him. 

“It can be better. You just gotta gimme another chance,” He says playfully when you two separate. 

He’s joking, but you can hear he’s being genuine underneath.

“I mean, if you want,” You shrug, indifferent.

“Oh, I want,” He assures you with a wink. “Anyway, are you still hungry?”

“I’m starving,” You groan. “But I really need to rinse off, if you don’t mind.”

“Course I don’t mind. I’ll set you up in the bathroom and then get breakfast going for real this time.”

He reaches down for his discarded briefs, slipping them on before leading you back up to his bedroom, getting the shower in the en suite going for you. 

Once you’re done showering, smelling like all of Van’s products and wrapped in a giant, fluffy towel, you slip out of the bathroom and into Van’s room. You perch on the edge of his bed, reaching for your phone which has finally powered on with the help of a borrowed charger.

There’s a ton of texts from Mary, her curiosity growing the longer you haven’t responded. You listen closely for any sign of Van, but there’s silence. He’s still in the kitchen working on breakfast. You dial Mary’s number.

“Holy shit, finally!” Mary exclaims down the line. “How was last night?”

“I’m um,” You keep your voice low, still paranoid Van might come upstairs to check on you at any moment. “I’m still here.”

“No fucking way,” Mary hisses. “You stayed the night?”

“Yeah. But hey, listen, I don’t have too long, he’s making breakfast-”

“Breakfast?” Mary interrupts. “Like, what kind of breakfast? He can microwave oatmeal?”

You snort. “No, like a real breakfast! Eggs and stuff.”

“Shut the fuck up. I knew he was perfect the first night we met him!”

“Mary, listen!” You hiss. “I gotta tell you about what just happened!”

“This is gonna be good.”

“Oh, it’s better than good. He’s, like… Wow.”

\\

Read Chapter 3 here

#summer's a knife #catfish and the bottlemen #catb #van mccann #van mccann fic #vanfic #catb fic #van mccann fanfiction

[quentinxdelancret]

Discord Text Thread || Quentin & Dorian

Discord thread featuring: Quentin and Dorian

When: September 26th-27th

Mentions: Jaycee

Description:Quentin texts Dorian after their date and then asks if it’s okay to sleep over. He texts him again the next day and things get a little more personal. {sleep over thread to follow}

Trigger Warning: drug mentions and light dirty talk.

Quentin. I bet you can’t guess what’s been on my mind all day....

DORIAN What’s been on your mind all day, handsome?

Quentin. You!

DORIAN Awww.

Quentin. You doing alright today, darlin? Not missing me too bad are ya?

DORIAN Yeah, I’m doing okay. I am missing you though. How are you?

Quentin. That’s good. Not that you’re missing me, but that you’re good. I’ve been pretty good myself, can’t complain. Definitely missing you too though.

DORIAN it’s good to know the feeling is mutual. what have you been up to today?

Quentin. It is isn’t it? I haven’t been up to too much. Working on my next cover and leveling out. How about you?

DORIAN Ooh, what’s the plan for the next cover? I’ve just been chilling today tbh. Having a lazy day.

Quentin. Well, since you’ve been on my mind nonstop, I was thinking something sweet. It seemed relevant. oh yeah? Want some company?

DORIAN Yeah? Like what? Yes please.

Quentin. Hmm, I’d tell you but I don’t wanna ruin the element of surprise. ahhh, thank god!

DORIAN So cute.

Quentin. Yes, yes you are.

DORIAN Nooo, you.

Quentin. Me? Naaah. It’s totally you babe.

DORIAN I refuse to accept that. it’s you.

Quentin. Ughh, fine. But only if I get to kiss you again. Fair?

DORIAN You can kiss me as much as you want.

Quentin. Oh yeah?

DORIAN Yeah.

Quentin. Ooooh, I hope I don’t make you regret that lol how are you so perfect?

DORIAN I doubt you will. I’m not.

Quentin. Seriously, I’m gonna smother you if you keep being so hard on yourself. New rule, you can only be hard on me

DORIAN I’m sorry. When you’ve been through as much awful shit as I have, it’s difficult not to be hard on yourself.

Quentin. I understand, I promise I do. But, you’re so fuckin amazing, baby. You should know that, and I’m gonna make sure you realize it every time I’m around.

DORIAN You’re gonna make me melt. You can’t be that sexy, speak French, and be nice to me. I’m gonna fall head over heels.

Quentin. I could say the exact same thing about you. Except the French part.. but I could teach you the basics. like French kissing

DORIAN I think I already know quite a bit about that.

Quentin. Yep, yeah you definitely do. You kiss like a pro.

DORIAN Heh. Thanks babe.  You’re a pretty damn good kisser yourself.

Quentin. I’m glad you think so. Cause my lips are gonna be all over you every chance I get

DORIAN All over me?

Quentin. Uhm... yes?

DORIAN You hesitated.

Quentin. ha, hardly. Just don’t wanna get punished before I get started.

DORIAN You totally did hesitate. Why would you be punished?

Quentin. Oh, darlin. You can trust when I say there would definitely be no hesitation. Idk, haha. You’re the one who likes to be in control.

DORIAN Okay, good to know. You’d have to give me a reason to punish you and so far I have not seen one.

Quentin. That’s good. I’m not sure how extent these punishments get. But, I’m not ready to find out just yet either.

DORIAN Heh.

Quentin. Something about the way you say that always seems so naughty. I like it!

DORIAN Good.

Quentin. soooo... can I stay the night?

DORIAN Oh... yes. I’d like that.

Quentin. you hesitated.

DORIAN Only because I wasn’t expecting you to ask me that.

Quentin. No? I’m pretty addicted to you.

DORIAN oh are you?

Quentin. I am, It’s terrible. I can’t eat, can’t sleep, can’t do anything without wanting to be with you.

DORIAN I have that much of an effect on you already?

Quentin. Is that bad? That’s totally bad isn’t it?

DORIAN No. it’s sweet and flattering.

Quentin. Are you gonna break my heart Dorian Taylor?

DORIAN No! I don’t have any intention to at least. Are you gonna break mine?

Quentin. Hmm, depends on whether you break mine first.

DORIAN 😒

Quentin. Don’t make that face. I don’t want to break your heart. I just wanna love you

DORIAN oh you just wanna love me huh? & I can make that face if I want to.

Quentin. that’s what I said. fine be mean lol

DORIAN Cutie. I’m not mean.

Quentin. you’re right, you’re not.

DORIAN I can be if I’m pushed to the point where I feel like someone deserves it. But not for no reason.

Quentin. I feel that. Me too.

DORIAN Mhm.

Quentin. you don’t believe me? Haha

DORIAN No, I believe you. I just didn’t know how else to respond lol.

Quentin. Ah, haha okay. I’m really not that mean ever. Maybe a little cold but not really mean.

DORIAN Good to know, baby.

Quentin. I don’t think I’d ever be cold with you though. You’re a too sweet.

DORIAN You’re my bad boy with a soft spot for only me huh?

Quentin. haha you think I’m a bad boy? I definitely have a soft spot for only you though.

DORIAN you told me you were.

Quentin. Oh hahaha Maybe I’m a little bad

DORIAN

😅

Quentin. 🙈

DORIAN you’re so cuuuute.

Quentin. I’m something. Hahah

DORIAN You’re sexy and charming.

Quentin. Oh, wow. Smooth.

DORIAN Heh.

[ THE NEXT DAY SEPTEMBER 27TH ]

Quentin. I swear people think I’m crazy. All I do is smile idiotically at my phone lol

DORIAN You’re so adorable. What do you have going on today? I was sad when you had to leave.

Quentin. I did have an interview. But it’s over now, and I’m just laying on my couch talking to you.

DORIAN an interview?

Quentin. Yeah, KJ 104.3 The buzzz

DORIAN Oohhh interesting.

Quentin. Yeah, it was alright. But they always give me shit for starting out as a cliche cover band and continuing to do covers.

DORIAN Fuck them then.

Quentin. Yeah, fuck em all! Doesn’t help my brother, aka my drummer is on holiday. So I was solo

DORIAN I miss you.

Quentin. aww babe. I miss you too, very much! do you wanna see me?

DORIAN 🙈​ 😘 Yes.

Quentin. I can come back over.

DORIAN Do you want to?

Quentin. Yes, I do.

DORIAN Okay great.. I didn’t wanna pressure you into doing something you didn’t feel like doing.

Quentin. I always wanna see you

DORIAN Yeah? Glad it’s not just me.

Quentin. Oh yeah, definitely not just you darlin.

DORIAN You are soooo hot.

Quentin. you keep making my blush. you’re hot. So scorching baby

DORIAN Awww, I bet you look so cute when you blush. Thank you babe.

Quentin. I think we have a real issue here

DORIAN What’s that?

Quentin. I don’t know how I’m ever gonna keep my hands off of you

DORIAN I’d say you don’t have to but there are some places where you have to keep your hands to yourself lol.

Quentin. some places?

DORIAN Yeah there are some public places where we could get in trouble for being too handsy.

Quentin. oh haha. I thought you meant on your body

DORIAN omg lol. No.

Quentin. ha, good to know.

DORIAN 🤣

Quentin. could you imagine? You can touch me every where. Just not there

DORIAN Lol. I’m sure there are people like that, I’m just not one of them.

Quentin. yeah, no Christian Grey here thanks

DORIAN Lmaooo.

Quentin. Although, I did use to have an use with somethiiiing ha I’ll keep that to myself for now though

DORIAN you used to have what now?

Quentin. nothing lmao

DORIAN it just seemed like you made a typo lol.

Quentin. maybe I did

DORIAN I’m just confused

Quentin. No I definitely did lmao just go with it lmao

DORIAN I can’t I need to know what you were trying to say.

Quentin. lmao God I was just trying to say, I used to have an issue with a certain something. But not anymore

DORIAN Hmm. I probably wouldn’t have understood what you meant anyway, since I refuse to read the books or see those movies.

Quentin. You refuse? I wasn’t actually referring to the movie though lol. Just myself in general.

DORIAN Yeah. I’ve read a couple excerpts online and have read a bunch of think pieces about how it’s not a positive representation of the BDSM community. oh okay. Thought you were referencing the books or movies.

Quentin. Nah, I’ve seen the movies and they kinda suck. But the books, just wow. I don’t care about any of those though. Just you and me

DORIAN The writing that I did read from the first book was... very poor. But idk, maybe it improved throughout the series who knows. How romantic. Are you almost here?

Quentin. Yeah, it’s not very good at all. I am, just stopped for some rolling papers. Do you smoke?

DORIAN Nah, haven’t smoked in years lol. I don’t mind if you do though.

Quentin. That’s awesome! I applaud you. It’s a nasty habit, but I wasn’t actually talking about cigarettes lol

DORIAN I know what you’re talking about lol.

Quentin. well okay then

DORIAN at least I’m pretty sure I do.

Quentin. Hahaha. I was just talking the magical grass.

DORIAN okay so I was right lol.

Quentin. I don’t really smoke anything else besides cigarettes which is gross

DORIAN people smoke a lot of things nowadays.

Quentin. Like opiummm that shits whack ha

DORIAN yeahhh... y i k e s.

Quentin. I did that once when I was like 19z suddenly I was 20 and I didn’t remember shit lmao -z maybe I don’t need any more weed lmao

DORIAN oh shit lol. I’ve never done any hard drugs, I’m proud to say.

Quentin. Really? You just don’t want to... or?

DORIAN Don’t want to.

Quentin. That’s cool. I wish I had your will power

DORIAN I’ve always been really strong minded.

Quentin. that’s good though. Where do you stand on other people doing them?

DORIAN Um. I can’t tell people how to live their lives but I don’t want them to do it around me and I can only hope that they’re being as safe as possible. It would actually really trigger me if it was done around me.

Quentin. Oh, okay.

DORIAN Yeah..

Quentin. So, around you like... on them around you or actually doing it around you?

DORIAN Doing it around me. But also if it’s on them around me in a place where we could get in trouble if someone found it, that’d obviously be a problem too because I’m not tryna catch a charge.

Quentin. Right, makes sense. I guess this would be a good time to tell you, I have a bit of an addiction.

DORIAN I figured there was a reason you had so many questions about it.

Quentin. Well, yeah. I really like you. I don’t wanna mess this up.

DORIAN I really like you too.

Quentin. I’m a little scared to say any more about it. Not gonna lie.

DORIAN Be honest with me, baby. I told you from the jump that I needed that from you. The fact that you even care about how it makes me feel says a lot about how you feel about me.

Quentin. I just don’t wanna lose this, Whatever this is. You’re kinda intimidating ya know? But I don’t really have anything to hide. I do like to feel good though. Everyday. Fuck, I just ruined this didn’t I?

DORIAN No.

Quentin. Are you sure?

DORIAN Yeah. I’m just a little thrown off. And wondering what exactly it is that you do but also wondering if I’m better off not knowing.

Quentin. I mean, I’m pretty sure you’ve seen glimpses of me throwing around shrooms in the general chat. But that’s not my main addiction. I’m kinda bias and don’t really think it’s that bad of a drug. But again, I take it a lot, and half the time you can’t even tell I’m on anything

DORIAN I very rarely go in the group chat so no I haven’t.

Quentin. Oh. Well shit. I really don’t do shrooms a lot though.

DORIAN it is what it is, Quentin. Thanks for being honest.

Quentin. Look, I’m not like, I’m not trying to make light of any of this. But, I could totally go without doing shrooms. That’s not the issue, it’s the molly. It’s why Jaycee and I split up. but since you’ve known me, have I been like a fucked up mess?

DORIAN Molly? I’ve never heard of anybody being addicted to that. As far as I knew, that was a really recreational drug. And I also didn’t know you’d been with Jaycee. Oop lol. No you haven’t.

Quentin. Yeah, it usually is I guess. It’s just like I said, I like to feel good. Idk, it’s not a good thing to be addicted to or admitting. I’m sorry. ha, yeah. We were. And I’m glad I haven’t. that counts for something right?

DORIAN Do you have any intention on slowing down or? Not for me of course but for you. Because like I said I’m not gonna tell you how to live your life, I just want you to be safe. But if you’re acknowledging that you have a problem, then that gives me the impression there’s something you wanna fix.

Quentin. I didn’t really, no. I guess maybe it I found something that replaced that high. I don’t know. I know I have a problem, but knowing it isn’t as easy as fixing it. I’m sorry Dorian.

DORIAN It’s s okay. You don’t need to be sorry.

Quentin. Should I not come over now?

DORIAN Babe. No. I still want you to come over.

Quentin. You sure?

DORIAN You keep asking me and I won’t be. 😛

Quentin. Ah, crap. Okay lol

DORIAN I appreciate that you care so much though.

Quentin. I really do. I really like you, and how I feel when I’m with you. I just, don’t wanna mess that up.

DORIAN That’s so sweet, baby.

Quentin. you’re sweet.

DORIAN Oh yeah? Do you want a taste?

Quentin. Soooo badly.

DORIAN How badly baby?

Quentin. So bad it hurts. But like, in the best possible way.

DORIAN Then hurry up and get your sexy ass over here.

Quentin. yessir.

DORIAN 😏

Quentin. God damn you’re fire.

DORIAN Aw shucks. Making me blush.

Quentin. ha, and I’m only getting started.

DORIAN I can’t wait to kiss you.

Quentin. Good, cause I’m never gonna stop.

#text #texts. #chats:dorian #chats:discord #ft.dorian #ft.jaycee #tw:drug mention

[lurafita]

King!Steve/Healer!Peter

Born from this prompt: Remember to link prompt!

There might be some grammar mistakes and typos in this, because I’m uploading this without reading it five additional times (as is my usual M.O.). But I’m a bit pressed for time right now, and if I don’t upload this now, it will probably take me a few days to do it. I hope it’s not too bad, but please point out any mistakes I have made, so that I will have an easier time to correct them later on.

FANTASY AU

I'm taking some liberties with the way the characters talk here. Usually, when you have an environment with Kingdoms and knights and the like, you expect the story to have a certain... etiquette? Or, well, a certain kind of speech. Now, writing in a foreign language is already a challenge at times, but adding a kind of formal speech that is only seen in history books and period pieces, is simply too difficult for me to even attempt. So, since I'm not writing a historic period story, but rather a fantasy one with magic and the like, I think it's okay for me to have to characters speak in a more modern way (with words like 'fuck' and 'cool' and such), even though the plot doesn't play in a modern environment.

Spideyshield; King!Steve/Healer!Peter 

The grand palace doors sprung open with an echoing bang, as first knight and commander of the Kingdom's army, Sir James Barnes, dragged his heavily  bleeding friend and King, his majesty Steve Rogers, into the entrance hall.

Two of the guards rushed forward to assist, but he paid them no mind.

“PETER!” He cast his gaze to one of the servants who was watching the scene with wide, shocked eyes. “You! Alarm the royal healer! Get Peter to the west wing immediately!”

The servant ran off to do as the knight had ordered, while the other guards helped Sir James to carry their King to the castle's healing chambers. The blond King, almost unconscious by this point (in no small part due to the head wound he had suffered), tried directing his head to look at James.

“Nooo... dn't tell Pete... he g'nna be cross wit me...”

James adjusted his hold on the slightly bigger man, which elicited a groan from the King.

“You can bet your fucking ass he is gonna be cross with you! I'M fucking cross with you! Of all the stupid, crazy shit you could have possibly pulled out of your royal ass, you go and do this!”

The guards and servants surrounding them weren't even shocked to hear Sir James speak to their King like this. The commander of the knights was one of the few who could afford such a disrespectful tone with their ruler.

The King tried to respond to his friend, but his speech was slurred so much, that the words were completely unintelligible. Thankfully they had reached the healing chambers at this point, and carefully lifted the man onto one of the beds. Just in time, it seemed, as running footsteps could be heard, preceding the royal healer who burst into the room.

The panicked light brown eyes landed on the first knight immediately.

“James! Where is-” then the younger man spotted their wounded King on the bed. “Steve!”

He rushed forward, the white robes of his profession fluttering, dainty looking hands already emitting the warm glow of healing magic.

Since the King had finally succumbed to to unconsciousness, Peter directed his question to James.

“What happened?”

Seeing the brunette's healing touch at work was always a bit of a marvel to the knight, so it took a second for him to shake off his awe and answer.

“One of my men had overheard what he believed was a gathering of slave traders in one of the empire's bars. And you know how Steve is about slavery. He insisted on investigating things himself. Only took me along because I threatened to kick his kingly ass if he didn't.”

The guards that had helped Sir James carry the King, took up a post outside the room, while two servants carried different supplies for the healer's use, as well as new clothes for the King.

“We found their lair, but as we were about to leave to come back with armed troops, one of the slavers pulled one of the children forward. They were about to...” He averted his gaze, the act too heinous for him to voice. By the look on Peter's face, he got it anyway. James cleared his throat. “I told Steve to go and bring reinforcements back with him, but stubborn fool that he is, he charged. Idiot took a blow to the head while warning me about an attack from my blind side.”

The knight shook his head ruefully as he watched the still form of his friend on the bed with fondness and guilt. Before he could spiral into self loathing, Peter's voice brought him out of his thoughts.

“You know he wouldn't want you to blame yourself for his injury. His decisions and actions are his own, as King, and as a man. Beating yourself up over it would belittle his sense of responsibility.”

James couldn't help but smile.

“How many times has he said those words to you, for you to be able to repeat them almost verbatim?”

The younger man grinned a little as well, and the magical shine around his hands diminished slowly.

“I have lost count. It is hard to argue with him.”

“Don't I know it.”

Confident that his magic had sealed the head wound, Peter let his hands hover over the rest of the King's masculine body, trying to see if there were any more injuries that needed his attention. When he found nothing of greater concern, he nodded to Steve's handmaid (an older gentleman who had waited patiently in a corner of the room), to start cleaning and changing their King. Then he turned to James.

“What about you? Here, sit down on this bed. Let me-”

The knight help up a hand.

“I'm fine, Pete. Just some bumps and scratches. Nothing worse than I get from the training session with the guards, or his royal dumbness over there. He good?”

Peter nodded.

“The injury looked more severe than it was, but head wounds always bleed a lot. He had a concussion, but my magic has taken care of that. He should sleep for a few hours, but then he will be good as new. What about the people you freed from the slavers?”

“I alerted one of the city guards we passed as I dragged Steve's ass back here, so they should be taken care of. The troops most likely took the people to the normal healers, and threw whoever had survived of the slavers to rot in the cells.”

And while compassion and kindness was as much a part of Peter's very core as his magical ability to heal, even he couldn't bring himself to feel sorry for the slavers. The brunette himself had been a slave, once, and witnessed first hand the cruelties of those that held people's life and freedom in their hands. He would forever be thankful for the fact that his former 'owners' hadn't done their research, when they decided to sell Peter to the newly crowned King of the Brooklyn lands. Steve had wasted no time with implementing a new law in his kingdom, one that outlawed slavery, by threat of execution. But Peter's captors hadn't known that, and they had paid for their ignorance with their lives.

King Rogers, Steve, had taken Peter and the other slaves in his group in, had made them free citizens of his kingdom, and made sure they had a home and a means to support themselves. The younger man, back then still in his last teenage years, had been so grateful, that he had revealed his healing magic to the King. The healing touch was rare, as unlike other magic, it couldn't be learned, no matter how skilled the wizard or witch who attempted it.

Steve had offered him the position of royal healer (offered. Not ordered, not demanded, not forced), and over the years, Peter's deep felt adoration for the man had grown into love.

“Maybe I should take a look still.” His voice was unsure as his eyes flickered to the bed where Steve, now cleaned of any blood and newly dressed, was resting. He felt conflicted. There might be people in the regular healers chamber that were hurt. Especially the children. Yet he didn't want to leave his King's side.

James seemingly knew what was going through the slighter man's head, as he laid a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

“I need to go down there and get the report from the guards anyway. If I see someone in need of your help, I will send for you.”

Peter brought his hand up to give the broader one on his shoulder a squeeze.

“Thank you, Bucky.” Only a handful of people were allowed to call Sir James by that nickname. Peter was proud to be one of them.

-

Steve woke to the familiar sight of the royal healing chambers (he wasn't the kind of King who could just sit on his throne and let others fight his battles, so he was very used to getting hurt), and the (just as familiar) sight of Peter having fallen asleep on a chair by his bedside. He sighed. Steve hated worrying the younger man like this, to the point where Peter fell asleep in what had to be a pretty uncomfortable position.

He quietly got out of bed, and tested his limbs. Just as usual, Peter's magic had taken care of all his aches and pains. He felt good as new. He kept his steps light and soft as he went around the bed to kneel before the sleeping healer, then carefully snaked his arms under Peter's knees and behind his shoulders and lifted him up.

Peter felt so delicate in his bigger, stronger arms. So much more lithe, when compared to the wide chest and shoulders of the blond King. It made Steve want to keep him there, cradled in the protection his muscular arms offered, shielded from everything that might harm him.

He thought about lowering Peter into the medical bed, so as not to risk waking him up (the younger man was always exhausted when he had used his powers on someone. He had said it was normal, that healing someone always took a lot of energy, as he was technically working against nature's course.)

But it felt wrong to not have the younger man close right now. Maybe it was because of the slavers they had found and fought. (Slavers. In his Kingdom. He hated the very thought of it.)

When one of the scumbags had dragged the small boy up front, and opened his trousers, he had felt so reminded of the day Peter had been brought into the Kingdom, presented to him like some plaything. Peter had been a slave, once. Had lived the life that the people he and Bucky had managed to free today had been threatened with. The memory of that fact nearly broke his heart.

So he adjusted his hold on his healer into a more secure grip, and still careful not to wake the younger man, made his way out of the room. The guards posted beside the door stood to attention as their King passed them, happy to see both their ruler and royal healer well. Steve passed a few more of his servants, guards, and even Bucky, on his way to his chambers, with his precious cargo held in his arms.

All of them had smiled and curtseyed at him, glad to see their King on his feet again, but aware to not voice their joy, as to not wake the sleeping healer. Bucky, of course, had given his friend a truly shit eating grin, while looking at Peter and wiggling his eyebrows. Naturally, Bucky knew all about Steve's feelings for their magical healer, and took great pleasure in needling Steve to make a move already.

And Steve had been thinking about doing just that more and more. His people already loved Peter, and would celebrate their union.

When he got to his room (the door having been opened for him by Phil, his handmaid, he stepped up to his big, lavishly decorated and soft bed, and oh so carefully lowered Peter down. He gently rearranged the younger man's limbs to get him under the covers, and then laid himself down beside him.

Night had already fallen, and it was dark out. While Steve didn't feel particularly tired after his healing sleep, he still didn't feel comfortable with leaving Peter's side, and relished in the chance of laying next to him.

He softly stroked two of his fingers along Peter's forehead, tucking a stray strand of hair behind the younger's ear. Peter was beautiful. His skin light and soft, slim but perfectly curved lips, little dimples that could be seen even in sleep. But he was also so much more than just a pretty face. Peter was warm, and giving, and kind, and funny. Loyal and  trusting and just too lovely for this world. How could Steve not have fallen for him?

Then Peter moved, and for a moment, Steve thought his heart was about to stop, as the brunette scooted closer, tucking his smaller body right into the King's embrace. Still deeply asleep, Peter's subconscious had likely been attracted to the source of warmth from another human body. Not that Steve minded.

He wound his arms around the healers body, pressing him a little more into his own, and thought he felt a soft sigh against his collar bone.

Then and there, while slowly being lulled to sleep by feeling the other's heartbeat against his own chest, Steve decided that he would start courting Peter officially the very next day. But right now, he would let himself bask in the scent and warmth and feeling of having his love in his arms.

The End.

#spideyshield #spidershield #steve rogers #peter parker #bucky barnes #fantasy au #magic #au #king!steve #healer!peter #magical peter #op lurafita

[itsmyusualphannie]

something wrong in the village

Chapter 2/5: exodus Beta: @candanandphilnot Rating: T Warnings: None Read on ao3

Summary: Fiona Lester has a secret. Dan Howell thinks they hate each other. Dan meets an online friend and comes to realize something important about himself while juggling a changing relationship with his parents, friends, and Fiona.

~~~ previous chapter ~~~ next chapter ~~~

"But Mum!"

"Don't 'But Mum' me!" Dan's mum stood in front of the dining table, fists clenched on her hips like a warrior preparing to charge into battle. "You know what I said yesterday, and the day before that, and the day before that!"

Dan slumped in his seat, eyebrows furrowed furiously. His arms were crossed, shoulders hunched as he scowled up at his mum. "I've been planning to go for months! You can't just stop me from going, I have plans!"

"I am not stopping you from going," she barked, "but if you keep on like this, then I will. I said you could go on Sunday and not the entire weekend!" She whirled to her husband, who was sitting demurely as he munched on toast. "Back me up!"

Dan's dad glanced up, gaze flicking between both of their set stances. He sighed. "Dan, just because it's been three weeks since your suspension doesn't mean you're not grounded. I'm sorry, but you should have thought about this before you decided to tussle with a girl. In class, no less."

Dan's mum nodded in approval, but then her eyes narrowed, so he hastily added, "Anyone, I mean. Tussled with anyone."

"Fiona isn't grounded!" Dan burst out, but he shrank back into his seat when his mum's dangerously-slitted gaze swivelled to him.

"You're not going with your friends," she said with an air of finality. "I'll take you up there Sunday morning and you can spend all day there, but you're not staying the entire weekend. That's the day when your favourite band is playing anyway. You'll be home by midnight. And that's my decision. You can either accept it or not go at all."

Dan shoved his half-eaten plate away from him with a clatter, and then he stormed to his room. His lip stung with his effort to stay silent, teeth digging into it. He threw himself down upon his bed once he got there, the surge of fury he'd been maintaining throughout that entire conversation now beginning to fade once he had a few rooms and a slammed door between him and his parents.

This annual weekend festival was the biggest music event of the year, at least for Dan. He had been looking forward to it the instant he'd left last year's festival, head whirling and heart pumping dangerously from the thrill of the drumbeats. He'd planned for months with his friends, their car ride and clothes and snacks sorted down to the last detail. Sure, they weren't all the closest of friends, but they were mates who liked the same sort of music that Dan liked, and that really all that mattered. One of them had an older sister who was going to the festival and she'd offered her car as a ride for the small group of friends, so it had all finally fallen into place.

It was all for nothing, now. Dan couldn't go with them. The comradery of the trip would be meaningless if Dan showed up on the last day of the festival. The others would have already bonded and had fun without him, and Dan doubted that he'd be seamlessly accepted into the group once he'd missed most of the action. Sure, Muse was Dan's favourite band, but they certainly weren't the only band he liked. He'd miss two full days worth of bands and singers.

It was Wednesday, and Dan had been alternating between arguing and pleading for the past week to convince his parents to let him go on Friday. He doubted it would happen now, with only one day between him and the first festival day.

Dan got up and opened his door just to slam it again. His mum's voice rose somewhere in the house, but he flipped the lock and ignored her. He crossed the room and threw himself into his seat at the desk, yanking open his laptop.

It took less than ten seconds to send a quick can't go friday, parents are fucking arses. b there sunday to his mates' group chat, and then he closed it out and resolved to ignore them until the day actually came. A small part of him whispered that maybe, just maybe, they would be glad he wasn't coming. They'd have more fun without him anyway.

Dan opened his browser. With slow fingers, he tapped in a website URL. Before he'd even gotten five characters typed, the browser auto-filled the rest. He had, perhaps, been visiting this website multiple times a day for the past few weeks. It wasn't even a porn website.

It loaded, bright colours immediately assaulting Dan's vision. He blinked away the spots that invaded his sight, mousing over the page to click on the uppermost right corner, a speech bubble that had been revealed after a few mutual messages back and forth with a certain correspondent.

The FRIEND chat function opened. A message was waiting for him, the sender 'amazingphil.' Dan let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding and clicked on his chat with Phil.

Agree to disagree, read the message in a bubbly font. or! just agree. think about it: a shiba inu and corgi mix. I'd lose my mind

Dan huffed a laugh without meaning to do so. He hadn't meant to keep talking to this 'Phil,' but he'd been intrigued by the enthusiastic and carefree way the other boy talked. They'd shared many common interests and disagreed on just as many, but both provided topics with which they could converse. Some topics lasted a few days of conversation, while some only a few lines in the chat. Dan had long ago lost his resolve that this was a bot, or that he was simply doing this just to be ironic. He'd never before found it so easy to just...talk to someone.

sure, Dan typed as a response to Phil's message. ngl if i saw a shiba inu/corgi puppy i would die for it

He sent the message, then hastily added, what would the mashup name be tho, shorgi? corgi inu? coriba?

He scrolled back up their chat after sending that one, glancing over their past messages as he went. Dan thought, maybe, if he and Phil ever met, he could probably use some of these as blackmail for eternity.

What's wrong with it? read one of Phil's messages from Monday. it's just easier that way, you don't get crumbs or chocolate all over your fingers

it's HELL. biting into a kitkat without breaking it is just wrong. i don't think i can speak to you anymore

Dan snorted a laugh and shook his head, continuing to go further up through their chat history.

i killed a plant this morning :(

wtf, Dan had replied. This had been last Friday, the first day Dan had begun begging his parents to let him attend the full festival. He hadn't been in the best of moods then, either, but it had at least been better than today.

i didn't mean to! i saw a cute boy and accidentally stepped on a sunflower :((

Dan remembered his hesitation then, his long pause at the open way Phil had typed that. Maybe Phil hadn't found it that easy, maybe he had agonized over the message before sending it. Dan had no way of knowing. Not for the first time since he'd started talking to Phil, Dan had hurt with the desire to see him in person and just talk. He'd replied with a simple wow, disaster

:'( Phil had replied, and that would have been the last message on the topic, but Dan's fingers had suddenly worked faster than his brain and he'd typed disbelievingly, wait, how tf did you step on a sunflower. aren't they fucking massive or summat?

D': it was a baby sunflower!! it's even worse

you're a monster, Dan had typed. His heart had stepped up a few beats as he'd added no more looking at cute boys for you. they're all mine now

nooo that's the only good part of my terrible days, Phil had bewailed, and Dan remembered that he had laughed out of the sheer thrill of it, the casual acceptance of a stranger on the internet.

A ping! sounded from the browser and a tiny alert appeared. New messages! it declared. Scroll down to view them.

Dan scrolled down to view them.

shorgi! Phil had answered Dan's query about the hypothetical mix-breed puppy. no, shinorgi, he'd added a moment later. Even as Dan was reading them, another message popped up. Actually these probably already exist. I'm going to look them up, wiat

wiat, Dan mocked the typo, but he waited. Phil sent a picture a moment later, a beautiful golden-haired puppy with a curling tail. It had a wide smile directed at the camera, eyes bright and intelligent.

I WOULD DIE FOR HIM. WHAT A GOOD BOI, replied Dan instantly, abandoning his aesthetic use of all lowercase spelling.

SAME, Phil enthused.

Dan considered punching his computer or himself, just to get the image of the puppy away from him. Nothing that adorable should exist in this world. Humanity didn't deserve it.

i want to eat him, Phil added.

weirdo, typed Dan, but he knew what Phil meant, and wasn't that the strange thing about all of this? It had been three weeks since they'd started talking, and Dan knew what he meant.

I have to do homework now, popped up another message from Phil. send me some doggo pics to help me through these hard times.

Dan rolled his eyes, but he opened another browser and searched for cute dog pics, and he downloaded them, and he sent them to Phil.

He didn't realize he'd been smiling ever since he'd opened this chat.

~~~

Heat seared the back of Dan's neck as he weaved his way between milling, chattering groups. Music was a dull roar in the background, temporarily drowned out by the loud discussions all around him. The ground thrummed in the beat, beat, beat rhythm of the drums and the crowd's stomps in the Pit Stage.

Dan had just left the Pit Stage. Two of his friends were still there, jostled between screaming fans of The Prettyboys and doing their fair share of jostling as well, but Dan hadn't been feeling the usual buzz that came with listening to furious tunes. It had been just a little too frenzied, so Dan had simple squirmed his way from the heaving, bellowing throng, and made his way outside.

He didn't know where he was headed next. The rest of his friends were in the Dance tent, but Dan had had enough of flailing teenagers doing their best to embody their favourite dancer, so he wasn't going back after the disaster earlier.

"Sorry, sweetie," slurred a pink-haired woman as she bumped into him. Her makeup was sweating under the glare from the sun directly overhead, a more grotesque facsimile of the liquid pooling in Dan's armpits and making its way down his back. The woman disentangled herself with someone's picnic basket on the ground and left Dan, offering him a friendly parting wave and then chugging directly from the flask in her other hand.

Dan swiped ineffectually at the smear of sweat she'd left on his shirt sleeve, but then he gave up and continued on. He would go to the Main Stage, he decided. Muse would start in a little less than an hour and that's where they would be playing, so he might as well.

He'd arrived at the festival only four hours before, his mum dropping him off with a cheerful wave and a "call if your friends can't bring you back tonight!" and then a sterner "and you'd better be home by midnight," but Dan's stamina had worn down quickly. He wasn't sure if it was the lack of time spent throwing himself into every band's time on the different stages, unlike his friends, who had been here since Friday morning, or if it was the suffocating heat, or that he hadn't heard from Phil since yesterday morning. Sure, it had only been one day, but ever since they had started talking, they hadn't missed a day of communication. In any case, Dan's energy had dwindled, his feet ached, his stomach growled, and he wanted to curl up in the shadow of the nearest unused boombox and take a nap.

The grass bristled beneath his feet as he trudged toward the Main Stage. Despite the thousands of people packing it into the dirt beneath their feet, it was stubborn still. A few people had even spread blankets on the grass and were sprawled across them, sunbathing or just resting surrounded by the sparse crowd. Dan was almost jealous, as he could be doing the same if his mum had let him come Friday with the supplies he'd planned, but then, he didn't fully understand the appeal of willingly sacrificing oneself to be roasted beneath the scorching rays when a breeze, albeit a small one, could be obtained by simply walking and flapping his shirt back and forth every-so-often.

The crowds thinned as Dan walked further from the Pit Stage, but began to grow in size again as he neared the Main Stage. He was bumped into with every few steps he took, and while most people weren't as drunkenly apologetic as the previous woman, they let him sidle past.

His phone buzzed as he passed the entrance to the Main Stage. He finagled it from his pocket, wiping sweat on his jeans to swipe at the screen. It was a text from one of his friends to the group chat, asking where everyone was.

Muse in 40 mins! said the message. let's meet at the front b4 we miss good spots.

Dan didn't bother answering, slipping his phone back into his pocket instead. They would find him soon enough, probably.

It wasn't that Dan didn't want to be around his friends, it was that...well, yeah, he didn't want to be around his friends. He had an awful ache gnawing at him, the feeling that his friends were having the time of their lives and Dan was most definitely not having any time of his life. It might have just been that Dan had been looking forward to this for an entire year and the experience wasn't living up to his expectations. Perhaps it was because he hadn't watched Muse perform yet and the experience wouldn't truly begin until then.

 An elbow thudded into Dan's side, interrupting his ruminations. He winced and leaned away, willing to let the person go past him and further into the stage area, but he was only jabbed again, and then once more.

"Ow," Dan finally complained, and he turned toward his assailant, and then. He stopped. He blinked. He breathed. "What are you doing here?"

Fiona scoffed at him. "Everyone in fucking England is at the festival right now, either here or in Leeds. As if I wouldn't be."

Dan recoiled, but he couldn't recoil very far. He hit the mass of bodies and came right back to his original position. "But you - " There was absolutely nothing that could have made this day any worse than it already was. 

"What are you doing here?" Fiona retorted. Her hair was in a high ponytail, but it was bedraggled, falling in damp strands around her face. Moisture beaded on her forehead and upper lip.

She looked disgusting, Dan decided. "I'm in fucking England too, aren't I?" he snapped. Another biting remark was on the tip of his tongue, but a guitar sang noisily in the distance, interrupting him, and the electric twang brought him back to his surroundings and out of his focus fully directed at Fiona.

"I'm not talking to you," Dan decided. He made to turn his back on her, but the hairy chest of a burly man was right in his eye line, so he turned back toward her and crossed his arms instead. "I'm here to have fun," he announced, even though he had not had any of that all day. "You're just going to ruin it, so kindly piss off."

She looked unimpressed. "As if I want to be talking to you, Hobbit boy. I'm just waiting for my friends to get here."

Dan glared. The insult hit home, making its way right to the curls on Dan's head. "I'm waiting for my friends to get here," he said but regretted it as soon as he said it. Repeating what she said was a useless insult. He fished frantically in his mind for something with a little more bite, but Fiona beat him to it.

"You? Friends?" She laughed heartily, clutching her stomach and throwing her head back.

Dan did not look at the long, pale column of her neck. He did not look at the reddening patches of bare arm where her loose, eye-searingly bright shirt left little protection from the smouldering sun. He definitely did not look at the tiny freckles sprouting on her cheeks, prompted by the heat.

When she finished chortling, Dan pointed out, "Your laugh looks so stupid. You poke your tongue out, like this." He demonstrated grotesquely, biting down on his tongue and crossing his eyes.

Fiona just laughed again. "I do not."

She did.

Dan's phone buzzed again. He scowled at Fiona and pulled it out, accepting the escape. It was just another excited message about Muse from one of his friends, but Dan tapped languorously on his phone for a good few minutes, attempting to appear absorbed. He hoped Fiona would leave.

She didn't.

"Why are you still here?" he finally snapped up at her, shoving his phone back into his pocket with more force than it necessarily warranted.

"I literally just told you, I'm waiting for my friends. Besides, it's clearly annoying you. As if I'd go anywhere else when I could annoy you."

Dan sneered at her. She sneered right back.

They couldn't find much else to say, insults exhausted, for now, so they stood in silence, or whatever could be interpreted as silence with the distant scream of instruments and the loud babble of conversations around them. Dan's phone didn't really interest him, but he pulled it out again anyway, checking for updates about his friends' locations or how close they were from him. The closest of his mates was still a few minutes away, caught up in the straggling edges of the massive crowd centred around the Main Stage.

"You like Muse?" Fiona asked abruptly, and Dan almost jumped. He hadn't forgotten she was there, but he had expected her to respect the mutual silence.

"Yes," he said though, shortly, and opened the Tumblr app. He'd only scrolled through a few posts before he was interrupted again.

"What's your favourite album?"

Dan squinted at her. "Why the fuck do you care? What, are you going to find some way to mock me for it?"

She rolled her eyes, clearly unimpressed. "I'm just trying to make conversation, jackass. I'm bored."

"So? We haven't had a conversation in like…" Dan actually had to stop and think about that, "...I dunno, four years. When we talked about how my clothes sucked and then you pantsed me."

Fiona cackled. It was a truly malicious, rolling laugh that made something squirm in Dan's gut. He took it for disgust. It couldn't be anything more. "Ah," she said. "That was funny. You were wearing Winnie the Pooh boxers, I remember. I bet you still have them."

"I don't still have them," lied Dan.

"You do," she assured him. "So what's your favourite album?"

Dan considered answering it, but his suspicions were too great to allow him to freely give away such information. "What's yours?"

"Absolution," she said easily.

Dan did some more consideration and finally, he reluctantly allowed, "Origin of Symmetry."

Fiona nodded slowly, and something hopeful began to sprout in Dan's chest, but it was stifled upon her next words. "Absolution is better."

Dan scoffed and lifted his phone again, ready to continue scrolling, but Fiona added, "But Origin of Symmetry is probably my next favourite. Good taste."

He couldn't help his suspicious glare directed at her. "You're being weird," he finally decided. She was. Their insults were at usual par, but Fiona was acting differently, somehow. Dan couldn't quite put his finger on it. The crinkles around her eyes were less prominent, maybe, or her shoulders might be less tense as she talked to him. Something small seemed to have shifted in her, and Dan wasn't quite sure whether he liked it or not.

Fiona shrugged easily. "'M not being weird," she said. "I'm just relaxed. You can't punch me in a crowd full of people, you'll get tossed out of the festival."

"Neither can you," said Dan.

She waved a flippant hand. "I wouldn’t punch your filthy face anyway, I just did my nails."

Dan couldn't help a disbelieving stare at said nails, but he saw nothing other than the usual chewed cuticles and ragged nails. He would have been truly shocked if she had. Dan had never known her to paint her nails, not once since he'd known her. Makeup didn't seem to interest her either, as Dan had seen her wearing it maybe two or three times. It would be bizarre, he thought, to see her eyelashes as any colour other than their pale golden hue.

Dan wrenched his thoughts from Fiona's eyelashes. What the fuck.

Someone else jostled Dan, squirming past him to sprawl an arm over Fiona's shoulders. He was a little shorter than Fiona, with short red-gold hair and an easy grin that matched Fiona's. "Hey my little dude!" he enthused, rubbing his knuckles over her head and knocking loose another handful of strands to dangle around her face. "Finally found you!"

Fiona shoved him off of her, but a grin had spread across her face at the assault. "Get off, Martyn. Where's Cornelia?"

"She's hauling the cooler. We got beer - " It was at this moment that the man caught sight of Dan watching them, so he hastily corrected himself to " - water, that is," and winked, as if there was literally any liquid other than alcohol or sweat at the festival.

"That's Dan," Fiona said coolly, and made no move to introduce Martyn, but that was fine because Dan already knew her older brother. One couldn't have a mortal enemy without knowing their family members, after all.

"Ah, Dan," said Martyn, and winked again.

"Stop," Fiona complained. She shoved him again. "Go help Cornelia, you nutter."

He left, shouldering his way through the crowd, and Dan barely waited until he was gone before repeating, "Friends," in the same tone that Fiona had used earlier when mocking Dan's friends.

Fiona didn't look intimidated. "Just because they're family doesn't mean they can't be friends, too."

"At least I have actual friends," said Dan, feeling like he was lying once more. This one felt bitter in his mouth, a reminder that he felt utterly alone at this concert. This brief repartee with Fiona was the most alive he had felt in hours.

A shrug. "Whatever floats your tiny little boat," she said. She stood on tiptoe to peer over the people beside her. The gesture only served to remind Dan that, while he stood securely over six feet tall, Fiona was only an inch below him. She towered over most other girls her age, tall and lanky and too clumsy for her own height. It might be considered endearing - if Dan didn’t despise her.

"Ah, there they are," she chirped, evidently catching sight of Martyn and Cornelia. She dropped back down and smirked at Dan. "See you at school tomorrow, Hobbit Howell."

Dan's voice failed him at the worst possible moment, at the time she was finally leaving. He had no witty parting remark, no snappy comeback as she ducked her way between two jostling shirtless guys. He could only watch her leave, mouth gaping uselessly as he floundered for something biting to hurl after her. Nothing came to him, so he had to just stare purposelessly as she vanished from sight.

As if they had been waiting for Dan to be free from the hold of his mortal enemy, two of Dan's friends arrived via a pack of rowdy teenagers, making their way toward Dan. One of his mates reached out and snagged his arm to haul him further inside the Main Stage. "Come on, man, we've got to get a good place before it starts!" he yelled over the growing crescendo of the crowd. 

Dan cast one look back over his shoulder where Fiona had disappeared, and then he followed his mates further into the people crushing ever closer to the stage. A crash of cymbals preceded his entrance and the crowd roared a unanimous approval.

Muse was here.

~~~ previous chapter ~~~ next chapter ~~~

#phan #phanfic #phanfiction #phanfic au #high school #trans phil #misunderstandings

[mightylauren]

Avengers Endgame SPOILER FILLED Thoughtstream

Pretty much a blow by blow reaction stream straight from my mind in list form of the entire movie from beginning to end. Clearly full of spoilers so it’s below the cut and tagged to death. There’s some all caps screaming. A few keyboard smashes. A fair amount of cussing. Probably a fair amount of typos as I typed this while totally not rewatching it in the comfort of my home. 

Totally not.

I don’t really expect anyone to read all of this but it was all festering in my mind and now it’s out. 

SERIOUSLY I SPOIL LIKE EVERYTHING BELOW THE CUT DON’T CLICK IT UNLESS YOU’RE SURE YOU WANT TO SEE IT.

Who put’s mayo on a hotdog?

Oh man hawks didn’t even see it happen nooo. I knew we were opening with Barton family dusting but ouch.

Tony calling Nebula the blue meanie!

Nebula refusing the last of the food and making Tony eat it makes me love her even more. 

Tony somehow keeps his sense of humor even in the face of death. God I love him. I know he’s gonna make it off this ship.

HA, that Internet joke about Carol showing up right after the trailer scene is true. That’s hilarious.

They never explain how Carol knew to look for them, but I’m going to guess she came to earth ala the scene after Captain Marvel and then went back out to see if she could find him.

Or she got REALLY lucky

I’m unclear does Nebula need oxygen and food? Or just significantly less than a full on human? She seems much better off than him.

Steve shaving did we miss seeing the beard one last time by like seconds? rude.

OMG Rocket sitting down and taking Nebula’s hand. The last of their family. Everyone else gone. My heart is aching.

23 days so we’re less than a month past Vanishing Day

Ha Tony calling Rocket Build a Bear is my first genuine laugh this movie.

I honestly was dying on the inside the whole time Tony is losing his shit on Cap. I mean he needed to say it all but seeing how sick he is and falling apart. He rips off his reactor and hands it over then collapses.

My heart.

Rhodey man. “That’s cute, Thanos has a retirement plan.”

Man this is the least planning they’ve ever done before a mission. They’re just gonna pack up, hop in a space ship and go kill Thanos? Cool. Coolcoolcool.

Okay it’s pretty good to see a lot of that trailer stuff is from very early on in the movie.

“Who here hasn’t been to space? You better not throw up on my ship.” XD

How does this big ass planet that can clearly sustain life have no life on it? Just Thanos some birds and some Meiloorun fruit?

That’s a Star Wars reference for those of you who don’t cross fandom lines.

So his snapping arm looks completely borked.

OH SHIT THEY CAME IN SWINGING

FUCK THOR CHOPPED OFF HIS ARM DAMN

ASDFKSAJDOFIUA THE STONES ARE GONE

Wait why is Banner still not Hulking out? How is that suit still running?

Damn he destroyed the stones. He knew they’d come.

DAMN THOR WENT IN HARD.

We are like twenty minutes in and Thanos is dead? I… what?

*crumples up and throws away all predictions she had before going into the movie

FIVE YEARS LATER?!?

FIVE

FIVE YEARS

I should have brought a paper bag to breath into.

Okay there’s the support group. Yup a lot of the footage from trailers and stuff is front loaded at the beginning of this. Which is good, because no clue where this is genuinely going.

Did… did a rat just bring Ant-Man back? A rat?

Shit how long has it been for him?

Oh wait, he’s looking for his people maybe not that long.

P-professor Chang?

Can you imagine how disorienting this all is for Scott? Pops out five years after a tragedy like the snap with no idea what the hell is happening.

My sister literally turned to me and said “no trash service but they built a monument?”

Valid question. Very valid. 

OMG CASSIE IS ALL GROWN UP I CAN’T.

I don’t think he fully realized how much time had passed until he saw his daughter.

“You’re so big” just made me tear up a little.

I just had a baby daughter four months ago. So I’m trying not to imagine what it would be like to vanish along with a bunch of other people and then turn back up five years later.

CAROL’S HAIR.

I’m sorry some of this is probably going to be completely incomprehensible unless you’ve seen the movie it just needs venting.

I am liking that they’re all reporting to Nat. That Rocket and Nebula are clearly teamed up.

OMG rocket made a joke about the haircut and Carol called him Fur Face

In case you didn’t know I have a ridiculous love for Rocket so I’m just glad he’s got a support system right now with almost the entirety of his found family dusted.

Capt. Marvel is basically saying she’s out for most of this movie isn’t she? I guess that makes sense she’s OP as hell.

Rhodey is tracking Clint but reluctantly. Clint’s clearly gone off the deepens a bit. Vigilante. Nat isn’t taking it well. Oh no she’s crying. 

This movie is gonna kill me.

I’m trying to imagine seeing a pod of whales in the Hudson River and I can’t imagine it. 

Okay so I’m guessing Scott’s about to turn up covering another major point from the early trailers. Yes yes yes. This is good.

Nat explaining that the Avengers gave her a family and a life and made her feel like she was a better person. Oh girl. You’ve done enough. It’s okay.

HA THE LOOKS ON THEIR FACES ARE PRICELESS

Scott doesn’t know science. He’s trying so hard. We need the Science Bros. Where are they?

FIVE HOURS

FIVE FUCKING HOURS?

HE WAS IN FOR FIVE HOURS AND LOST FIVE YEARS????

“Scott, I get e-mails from a raccoon so nothing seems crazy anymore.” LFAO

Tony has a daughter I’m dying. It had to be a little girl. 

Wait is he serious about eating crickets on lettuce? He might be this is semi post-apocalyptic.

Tony does not look happy to see them.

YES LET’S PULL A TIME HEIST. Tony isn’t feeling this but I am.

Oh, Scott, honey. Back to the Future? 

Though Tony your protege Peter used movies to make plans all the time. Maybe it’s not that laughable.

Okay I would die for his daughter. “Mommy sent me out here to save you.” Don’t think you were supposed to just say that outloud kiddo but props on a successful mission.

I know Tony too well for this. He’s saying no, because he loves his family. He needs his family. He’s scared to lose his family.

But now this idea is going to itch at the back of his brain aching to be solved.

Come on Tony lets go back to the future and pull off a time heist.

Hulk in glasses and a sweater is was not even on my theory bingo card what is happening. Is this his diner? They had to find him so he’s clearly not working for Nat right now. I have so many questions.

This whole thing with the kids is awkward. 

Come to think of it I have questions about how the infrastructure that is supporting things like cell phone networks is still functioning after the vanishing. Maybe because it’s been five years.

Is Nat flirting with Banner to get him to help?

Tony looking at a picture of Peter he’s got to try.

OH MY GOD HE GOT IT IN ONE EVENING.

EVEN HE LOOKS SURPRISED.

SHIT! 

I’m glad there is laughter in this movie and it’s not entirely heavy. I mean it’s Marvel I should have known.

He calls his daughter Little Miss. And she just extorted a juice pop out of him. I love Dad Tony. 

This is gonna hurt later I just know it. I can feel it in my gut.

“I love you 3000” My heart.

I’m glad that Tony is just going to have a straight up honest conversation with his wife about this.

He’s grown so much.

Oh Pepper, she’s telling him to do it. There’s some unsaid deep communication happening in this conversation. Bless this pair so much. She’s going to let him go and he’s going to go even though his gut his telling him that the road is not going to end well for him.

That’s why he wants to put it in a lock box and drop it to the bottom of a lake.

This is just so damn good so far. No complaints yet.

I kind of love this Hulk. He has no idea what he’s doing here but I love him. He’s like only half taking this seriously.

BAHAHAHA THIS TEST. HE comes back as a baby and Hulk is like “He’ll grow” I mean he’s not wrong but not the right answer buddy.

Another genuinely funny scene. 

“TIME TRAVEL!” With his hulk arms held wide.

Tony is literally speeding in his car there. Cap doesn’t even look that surprised.

Oh this is the Tony and Steve getting back on the same page moment I’ve been waiting for. I love it. I really love it.

HE BROUGHT THE SHIELD.

I love that it was in the trunk buried under kids stuff.

Tony is back and I love it even if I’m scared it’s gonna mean his end.

“Rhodey, careful on reentry theres an idiot in the landing zone.” As if I couldn’t love Nebula more in this movie.

Wait “New Asgard Please Drive Slowly” just threw me for a total loop. Good to know all the Asgardians didn’t actually die in that ship.

VALKYRIE!!!!

She’s like not acknowledging the Raccoon LMFAO

Holy hell what is happening here. Oh man Thor what have you done to yourself.

Actually, I get it. 

Are they playing Fortnite? 

This whole scene is super surreal right now. 

I actually kinda dig it but I did NOT see it coming. This movie has gone places I never would have predicted.

Thor kept strong for so long. He lost so much. He got all the way to the point where he’d done all he could think. He killed Thanos and there was no way to undo all that could be done so he just settled and existed. He drank and played video games with his buddies.

I get it.

Rocket just lured him onto the ship with beer. 

Was good to see Korg and Miek are alive. And there for them in their own ways.

RONIN ALERT.

Oh dude he’s just fucking people up does he even have a bow with him?

Nat waited until there was some way to undo the snap before reaching out to him. She’s just been silently tracking him waiting for a good reason to bring him in. 

In a matter of seconds Tony calls Thor “Lebowski” and Rocket “Ratchet” and I have always lived for his dumbass nicknames. 

Lebowski Thor is officially what I’m referring to this iteration of Thor.

Oh look a classic time travel trope a limit in the number of trips they can make. Makes sense though, Hank Pym was always very protective of how to make the particles so they only have what was made before the Vanishing.

I love the team debating how time travel really works. Listing all the time travel movies. Bill and Ted even snuck into the list. 

Not sure sending Clint back for the test was the best choice this is gonna be rough.

Okay he started to lose it at the end but he made it.

YES brainstorming session this’ll be fun.

Tony’s gentle handling of Thor says a lot. Tony’s been to rock bottom and recognizes the symptoms. At the same time I laughed when he offered breakfast and Thor said no he wanted a Bloody Mary.

ROCKET CALLING SCOTT AN EXCITED PUPPY BAHAHAHA

Nebula is so dramatic I’m here for it. 

Laying all over the desk brainstorming for Nat to finally figure out that there are three stones in one place at one time. This is the content I came for.

TIME HEIST LETS GO.

And just like that its 2012 this is surreal.

LMFAO HULK DOESN’T WANT TO SMASH.

Interesting seeing what the Ancient One was doing during the battle of New York. On a roof defending the sanctum from Chitauri.

OH SHIT SHE JUST PUSHED BANNER’S SOUL OUTA HIS HULK BODY

I didn’t see that coming.

Just a glimpse of Loki. :-(

It was almost cruel to send Thor to Asgard to do this. I mean someone had to go with Rocket, but damn this is tough to watch.

DAMN Rocket smacked him. And also just called Mantis “the chick with the antenna”. Pep talk’s not bad but Thor is crying I don’t think he can do this.

I don’t know why they want to do it that way anyway, Jane would have taken one look at him and known it was the wrong Thor.

Wait… they’re sending Nat and Clint to Vormir… oh God… oh no…

Okay so that’s going to suck in a few minutes lets just put a pin in that.

Nebula you waited a bit to tell Rhodey that there’s another you out there looking for the same infinity stone you’re there to fetch. 

Oh look its like just barely pre-Guardians Gamora, Nebula, and unfortunately Thanos.

I have a bad feeling about this.

OH SHIT I HAVE A VERY BAD FEELING ABOUT THIS.

Turns out two Nebula’s in one place is bad voodoo. She’s seeing video from the other Nebula which means THANOS can see video from the other….

Yeah this is all gonna go bad.

HAHAHA Tony just checked out Steve’s ass. 

AMERICA’S ASS!!!

It’s hard to remember that this shit is going to fall apart when I’m laughing.

Tony just flicked Ant-Man to his target and all I can think about is Gimli an “toss me” from LOTR.

Is Cap about to fuck up a bunch of people in the elevator again?

STEVE YOU SNEAKY BASTARD YOU JUST HAIL HYDRA’D AND STOLE THE SCEPTER.

2012 Time heist is about to hit a hiccup isn’t it. OH MAN they just gave Tony a heart attack.

LOKI NO

I mean yes but no. Loki just nicked the Tesseract and dipped with it. 2012 Loki is just gone.

There’s like timeline repercussions there. Not entirely sure what they are but there will be repercussions.

Cap fighting himself! CAP CHECKING OUT HIS OWN ASS!

Man the Time Heist is so rapid fire there’s too much to absorb.

“I’m totally from the future.” - Lebowski Thor breaking a law of time travel

Thor’s heart to heart with his mom is giving me feels. He needed this.

YES MJOLNIR IS COMING WITH HIM!

Ok it’s never occurred to me how ridiculous Quill would look dancing around without the music. That’s hilarious.

AH SHIT THANOS KNOWS AND HE’S THERE AND THIS IS WHERE IT GOES TO SHIT.

NEBULA </3

It’s so good seeing Steve and Tony back on the same page trusting each other. And clearly completely throwing Scott “Piss-Ant” Lang for a loop. 

I didn’t expect a detour to the 70’s. AAAND that’s his Dad. Tony’s just run into his own father. 

This movie is a roller coaster I’ll tell ya.

This is all mush if you’ve read this far you deserve an award. Or a sticker. One of those.

What a weird decision to have Tony have this whole meet up with his father here. And now Steve is taking refuge in Peggy’s office. Like this is almost mean to do this to these two. 

Why is it the Russo’s never could decide if Steve had gotten over Peggy or not gotten over Peggy. Back and forth and back again. I take it we aren’t going to see the niece at all in this one?

Alright boys lets get the hell out of the 70s this felt like a weird trip without the drugs.

Damn Nebula why is past you such a bitch when I love present you so much. I know I know that’s because you grew and what not but shit I don’t know what you and Thanos are about to do but it’s about to suck.

FUCK I FORGOT ABOUT VORMIR BECAUSE THERE WAS SO MUCH GOING ON

I’m not ready for this. I’m not ready for this. I don’t want either of them to die. This sucks. No No no no onoanfnaondaksldfj;lasdkja;

God we’re going to have to literally watch them fight over which one is going to sacrifice themself.

Here it is, I’m crying now. Me and Barton are just going to cry here in this puddle if you need us. 

They’re all back, except Nat. Which means that’s the wrong damn Nebula and no one notices because NO NAT. Shit. Shit shit.

This movie is going to give me a heart attack.

“Did she have any family?” “Yeah. Us.” :’-(

Okay Thanos like fucked up a whole mining community and shut down a star afterwards to forge a gauntlet to put the stones in and here’s Tony Stark plopping them into like an Iron Man armor piece like its nothing.

Looks sleek too. I dig it.

And they’re all too busy with the glove to notice fucking Nebula. SHIT. 

Man it’s hurting Hulk just to WEAR the damn thing. Thanos was just strolling around wearing it, which doesn’t bode well considering I see Nebula is bringing Thanos here. 

Cool. That’s cool. This is fine. 

How long of a moment of joy are they going to get. Clint’s wife is calling. Birds are singing. Shit is inches from a fan.

THERE’S THE SHIT. HOLY SHIT HE’S BLOWING AVENGERS HQ COMPLETELY OFF THE MAP NOOOOOOO

There’s like a whole hour left. Tell me they all survived that. I was not ready. I WAS NOT READY.

Oh here’s that shot of Hawkeye in the tunnel. Much later in the movie than a lot of those trailer shots. Fascinating. 

So 2014 Thanos is here with his whole crew and there’s a complete gauntlet here. Shit.

Well, they’re all alive. They’re not together entirely but they’re all alive.

Double wielding dad bod Thor just braided his beard with lightning and I’m here for it.

The stakes are at maximum. Now Thanos wants to destroy it all not just half. So failure here can never be undone there won’t be anyone to Avenge anything if he gets the gauntlet this time. That’s not terrifying at all.

Fuck that’s the wrong Nebula. BUT THERE’S THE RIGHT NEBULA WITH GAMORA.

Clint is like in the middle of this stand off like “wtf is happening I should have kept my hands on the glove”

Nebula just killed her own past self. And she didn’t vanish so no Back to the Future rules here for sure.

Damn Thanos is giving the boys a run for their money even without a single stone. 

Shit is Thor gonna die?

HOLY SHIT CAP HAS THE HAMMER AND THE THEATER JUST MIGHT EXPLODE FROM THE SOUNDS OF THE AUDIENCE SCREAMING ABOUT THIS.

Damnit Thanos is calling in the whole army. Cap is like the last one standing on the front line and he’s not backing down because he’s Captain “America’s Ass” America. Thor is down Iron Man is down. The others are trying not to drown. Shit.

OMG ON YOUR LEFT I JUST MIGHT CRY.

HOLY SHIT ITS EVERYONE I’M CRYING. 

PEPPER FUCKING POTTS IS HERE AS RESCUE HOLY SHIT.

TALK ABOUT THE CALVARY RIDING IN AT THE LAST POSSIBLE SECOND HOLY HELL.

HE’S GONNA FUCKING SAY IT

AVENGERS ASSEMBLE!

It’s a good thing they sound proof these theaters now or you’d hear this across town the audience is going fucking nuts.

There’s too much to touch on all this chaos I’ll hit the highlights because it’s so much.

Pepper and Tony fighting back to back.

Thor and Steve switching weapons, Thor telling him to keep “the little one” aka Mjolnir.

Tony and Peter reuniting and the hug.

Quill seeing Gamora and it’s the wrong Gamora and actually that broke my heart a little bit because his Gamora is gone forever.

Playing hot potato with the gauntlet.

Scarlet Witch fucking Thanos up to the point he panics and starts firing on his own troops to get her off of him.

Spider getting the gauntlet and for the first time ever activating instant kill on purpose.

Peter becoming the hot potato along with the Gauntlet.

OMG ROCKET FOUND GROOT AND HE’S BODILY BLOCKING HIM FROM FIRE MY HEART.

When the ships started firing up my sister elbowed me and legit was like “She’s here.” 

All the women assembling around Captain Marvel!! Even Gamora is with them holy shit!

Damn it the glove is back within his reach and I can’t with this. 

GET HIM CAROL DON’T LET HIM DO IT AGAIN.

She took a headbutt to the face like it was nothing and he panicked like a bitch pulled the power stone and punched her with it. 

OH MY GOD TONY

My sister silently handed me a tissue and I fell the fuck apart.

I never thought in a million years they would have it go this way. Tony snapping. Dusting Thanos and his army. 

I can’t even comment more on this scene I’m too sad. Everything after is too sad. The funeral.

There are infinity stone colored stones in the “proof that Tony Stark has a heart” setting. 

I love you 3000 Tony Stark.

Thor leaving Valkyrie in charge and heading off with the Guardians.

Quill clearly looking for new old Gamora. I doubt she was dusted so she must have just faded away after the battle to do her own thing.

Glad that Nebula is with them though.

I feel a loose beginning set up for the actual Asgardians of the Galaxy.

Bucky said goodbye to Cap like he knew Cap wasn’t going to be back with them in five seconds. He knew.

We’re lucky he didn’t come back as a baby though. ;-)

I mean I’m surprised they went this route with Cap but I’m happy for him.

I’m happy for Sam too. We knew at the end of this the mantel had to get passed and here it is, old man Steve passing the shield to Sam.

I bet that show about “Falcon” and Bucky is really about the new Captain America and Bucky. Just saying.

Steggy shippers rejoice and the cries of a million Stony and Stucky shippers can be heard round the world.

Is that a sentence I just wrote? I never got into MCU shipping stuff personally.

And then all there is at the end is the distant sound of Tony forging that first armor.

A reminder that Tony Stark built all this in a cave.

From a box of scraps.

TONY….

I’ll be mourning Tony for a long while. I was always team Tony.

They did him right tough. His arc was satisfying and RDJ performed beautifully in this one.

My heart aches. They had to give him a daughter. I’m watching my daughter sleep totally not thinking what it would be like for her to lose her father. 

I’m gonna go hug my partner when I’m done with this.

Over all I am happy with Endgame. I mean with time travel they obviously left loose ends all over.

They say they can’t change time and the whole present becoming your past when you go back while the past is your future blah blah blah

But like clearly things are changed. 2012 Loki got the tesseract and escaped

2014 Thanos is no longer in 2014. So the Guardians movies happened but also couldn’t have happened? I dunno it’s confusing.

So basically the MCU has finally caught up with it’s comic book roots of being a confusing jumble timelines. How poetic.

Anyway if you read this you are amazing and feel free to private message me if you want to scream about Avengers Endgame and have no one else to do it with.

I feel better having vented this all out.

#spoilers #endgame spoilers #avengers endgame spoilers #mcu spoilers #mcu #marvel #avengers #avengers endgame #endgame #marvel cinematic universe #it took me all day to rewatch a 3 hour movie because I have a 4 month old child

[brrrahoe]

the sun is going down - pt. 1

Description: It all should have been different - you believed it’s impossible to be lonely when you’re with him, but you were wrong. That’s why the warm light of the fire was so tempting for you… will you touch it and not get burned?

Pairing: Hoseok x Reader / Jackson Wang x Reader

Words (for this chapter): 3,5k+

Genre: angst / fluff / smut

Warnings: explicit language / more of them later as the story continues

Summary: Your relationship with Hoseok is all you could ever dream of. Of course, it has its’ ups and downs and even though it hasn’t been all sunshine and rainbows lately, you know that together you can overcome every difficulty. Little did you know, the real problem is just about to come.

A/n: Hiya, this is the first chapter of a fanfiction I’m working on rn. It’s gonna be about 10+ parts long, as I plan the story to be pretty deep, developed and engaging. So, if you are one of those who likes to feel the connection and experience y/n’s adventures aren’t we all wanna be y/n, this might be something for you. Hope y’all like it! also sorry for my grammar english is not my mother tongue

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!“ you screamed inside of your head while rushing to get on a plane. You were almost late and there was not a chance that you won’t be there on time. You just had to, there was no other option. There was already one time when because of you stressy-messy life you suddenly happened to forgot, that the “am” hours are VERY different from the “pm” ones.  To no one’s but your surprise, when you came to the airport, your plane was already 12 hours away. Even though you started preparing for todays’ flight two days ago, you still managed to be almost too late. Probably a thing to get a stupidity award for.

As you glanced at your lock screen, you saw a few messages and like a freakin’ TENS missed calls. You quickly read some of these - almost all of them were from your boyfriend, Hoseok. ”Hey babe, u ok?“, ”Heeey, I’m starting to worry bout you, is all good?“, ”Y/n, if you won’t answer me in fifteen minutes, I’ll really send someone to find you somehow. It’s no fun you know???“. Shit! As for now, you had enough on your head to additionally be bothered by your - sometimes a little overprotective - boyfriend.

”I’m ok, leaving in 10 minutes“, you responded shortly, just after you got through the last security check and finally sat your exhausted self on a uncomfortable plane seat accompanied by a loud sigh coming from your mouth. “THANK GOD!! waiting for u babe~~~” Hobi answered a moment before you turned the airplane mode on. Only a few hours left and you will finally be in Korea again. Ah. You forgot to ask Hoseok if he’s going to be waiting for you at the airport when you land. But considering that you texted him that you’re ok, he propably would know that everything is going as planned and he should pick you up… Well, he always does that.

You looked  through the window next to you. The sun was slowly going down, making the world slightly orange hued. The plane was already filled with pretty decent amount of people. And you were sitting there, couldn’t focus on anything but the thought of the CHANCE you might be stinking from all of the earlier rush. Trying to discreetly look at your seat-neighbor you’ve searched for any signs of disgust on his face. Fortunately, he was almost asleep. After a quick instructions about eventual emergencies from the stewardess, your flight finally started.

Getting a little sleepy, you put your headphones in and played some chill music. Your mind started to let relaxing thoughts fly through your mind. You could almost already feel the familiar scent of your boyfriends’ perfume bumping to your nose when he hugged you tightly. The image of his comforting body warmness almost covered you like a blanket. You haven’t seen him in a three months, but that was more than enough to make you miss him like crazy. Though he was texting you almost every one hour and FaceTimed you when he could, almost all of these messages were about how bad he wants to touch you, feel you, smell you and all of that stuff. Hoseok is a extremely touchy person and he even makes sure to never let go of your hand when you meet each other. Unfortunately, he didn’t have much time for you these days. Of course you weren’t a stupid ass and you knew that he has to deal with shitload of things with his carrier, friendships and family on a daily basis. Still, it couldn’t stop you from being a little blue sometimes when you two were supposed to go on a date, which at the end never took place. Hobi was trying his best to make it up to you everytime that happened, but you also could notice that he is super exhausted and wanted to let him rest as often as he could. Even when it was only you reading a book and him sleeping with his head laying peacefully on your lap.

"Even a sunshine has to sleep sometimes” you thought sleepily, with your eyes slowly closing. Before you fell asleep, the last thing catching your eye was the warm color of the sky and a shy looking moon subtly showing on the evening sky.

As you wearily raised your eyelids, the only thing you could feel was the numbness of your neck. You woke up an hour before planned landing, but you weren’t able to go back to sleep again. You passed that time with listening to music and trying to make yourself looking somehow decent. It was pretty impossible though, considering that the last ten hours of your life were focusing only on sitting stiff in one position and having no more room to even straighten your legs out. It didn’t bother you as long as you were sleeping, but now you can feel that every part of your body is weak and slightly aching. You brushed your hair and put some mattifying powder on your face, but there was no way you could hide dark circles under your eyes. It didn’t stop your heart to bump stronger with every thought of the fact that you’re going to see your little sunshine in no time.

When you could finally turn the airplane mode off, the message notification popped up immediately. You didn’t even wonder who would that be from. “oh i forgot to say have a safe flight!! <3” A light smirk showed on your face. “I’m at the airport” - you typed lazily, sending a message, then started to write a second one  - “you here or I’m taking a cab home? :(“. It didn’t even last a ten seconds when Hoseok responded “u crazy or what, I’m waiting there with a huge sign for over an hour so COME FAAAASR” You laughed at his excitement caused typo as you were waiting for your luggage. Within five minutes you felt your phone vibrating again “how looooooong”. As you looked at the sliding bags, you finally saw yours. You went to pick it up and pulled out your phone one more time “already have my luggage, coming. wanna grab me a coffee? please I’m gonna faint???” you asked Hoseok. Again, he texted you back in no time “no way. it’s 6 am. I’m hungry and probably so do you so we’re going to have a proper breakfast”. You sighed quietly. It’s not that you didn’t wanted to have a breakfast, you just preferred to jump into bed with Hobi and sleep together till the afternoon. Unfortunately, your expectations missed Hoseok’s and you kind of felt the duty of fulfilling his wish. Also, with the somehow desperate sound of the message, you felt in your bones that you two won’t have much time to spend together in the upcoming week. “oh my, ok, but coffee first” you stated and walked down to the luggage drop exit.

“O, sesang-e, nae yeojaae ya, neomu jichyeo beolyeoseo yulyeong-eulbogoiss-eo?????” Hobi shouted in Korean and you understood only “Oh my God”, “exhausted” and “ghost”. Fuck, are you looking that bad?

“As far as I understand you just called me an exhausted ghost” you laughed as you came to him close enough so he was able to lift you up and make a few spins to make you even more dizzy than you already were.

“Nah, just told you how much I love you” he said while spinning you around. Few seconds more and you might seriously throw up. “I know you know saranghae but I wanted to emphasise it, you know. Better! The longer the phrase the bigger the love. You know that saying?”

You two bursted into laugh once again. God, he would always immediately cheer you up. His whole self just expressed happiness and you were sure that even though you were on the edge of tiredness your eyes sparkled exactly the same way as his when he looked at you.

“Where is that huge sign you fussed about?” you asked, pretending to be looking around.

As you couldn’t find the thing you were looking for, you theatrically made an angry pout with your lips. Seeing that, Hoseok’s face darkened a little. To be honest you couldn’t tell if his expression is fake or not, but he suddenly started to also look around and seek for the lost item.

“Oh nooo! Somebody must have took it away from me while I was unconsciously looking to spot you in this crowd.” he dropped his arms down, resignfully. “Guess we have to head for our breakfast without it. Ready?” he asked, reaching for your hand with his. You nodded and took his hand. Of course Hoseok was the one who took care of your huge ass luggage as long as you two walked to his car.

You fell asleep again when your boyfriend drove you to the cafe. The front seat of his car was much more comfortable and soft to be sitting in than the plane one, so it was extremely easy just to close your eyes and let the cozyness wrap you up. Hoseok, noticing your actions, played some quiet but bouncy music on his car radio and jammed subtly, letting his happiness and excitement lead his movements. He was so glad that he had you around again, so from time to time he just unintentionally touched your lap or glanced at your sleeping self. He decided you two shall go to a small coffee place nearby his practice hall. You still had about three hours left for his training to start, so there was no rush to bother you now. As you peacefully slept, he carefully parked his car, being aware not to wake you up accidentally. Before you finally woke up, he watched you for a few minutes with a huge smile on his face. Opening your eyes to that view made your heart bump a little faster. He giggled and bend his upper body to place a subtle kiss on your forehead, making you smile. Reaching for your bag, you opened the car door and walked outside. Hobi quickly walked up to you, pulling you into a hug again.

“Have I told you how much I missed you already?” he whispered to your ear and then kissed your neck tenderly. You felt a little shiver running through your spine, as your cheeks blushed. You started to count on your fingers, which he didn’t notice.

“Like a six times today. Yesterday propably around ten.” He laughed again. Actually, he laughed a lot, but he was the type of person to do so. It took him about thirty more seconds to realise that he should propably let you go and head to the intended destination. It was still really early in the morning, the air was cold and your breath made a steam coming out of your mouth. Snowflakes started to fall down to the ground, making the road slippy. Of course Hoseok had opened the door for you when you walked inside the cafe. Besides you two and staff, there were about five more people at the coffeehouse. Hobi sat you down and went to order something for you both. You followed him with your eyes, as he stood there, having a cheerful smalltalk with the barista. With the help of the employee, he took all the food and drinks he bought and walked over your table. He knew exactly what you like, so it was no surprise when you saw him placing steaming hot, tall latte and huge bagel with egg and veggies before you. You nodded to the waiter with a quiet “thank you” and waited for your boyfriend to sit at the opposite side of the table.

“Do you have work today?” you asked, holding a cup of coffee and sipping continuously. You wished you could just drink the whole liquid straight away, but it was too hot to even take a proper sip. Damn, this man really knew how to stop your stupid behaviour, even unintentionally.

“Yeah, unfortunately.”

"What time do you start?”

"10:30” he responded shortly, cutting off the work topic. You both didn’t like to talk too much about his responsibilities when you were together. Of course, sometimes you had to, but Hoseok always made sure to make this as short as possible. As much as he loved his job, he also loved you, and the carrieer of a k-pop idol wasn’t making it any easier. You took a bite of your bagel. From the slight sharpness of his answer you could deduce somthing wasn’t right.

“Is something bothering you?” You looked at him worried.

“Now? No, not really. I’m just little out of space ‘cause I’m trying to find the closest day when we could have an actual date. We have to celebrate that you came back.” His smile could seriously make the sun come out even on a rainy day. You nodded, and next you just had a casual conversation. There was no need for you to update him on anything, he knew all of what was happening to you during all this time you were gone and so did you about him. You laughed a lot and had a good time, but you still could somehow feel that even though he said everything is ok, it was not. Something in his behaviour was different, but maybe it was really just because of both yours and his exhaustment.

After you ate breakfast, your boyfriend drove you back to your place and walked you to the door. Still sad that he had to leave, you waved at him through the door when you walked into your apartment. Hoseok was still standing there, looking straight at you without even blinking, his arms crossed on his chest. His tender posture seemed like he was trying to hold off something, and you didn’t even know what. Did you do anything wrong? Was he about to tell you something that you thought bothered him in the morning? You furred your eyebrows, unsure what to think, and placed your bag on the luggage standing next to you.

“Hey, what?” you asked as Hobi started to walk towards you, leaving the front door open. You took a little step back, almost unnoticeable, astonished by his sudden determination. Within a few long steps, Hoseok was an inch from you, piercing you with his dark eyes. Suddenly, he made a final step and pinned your body to the wall behind. You gasped just before he pressed his lips on yours. You could feel the pressure of his heartbeat going through your winter jackets, that you didn’t even had time to take off. The kiss was passionate and rough, but still in a gentle way. Hoseok lips were soft, but the confidence pulsing from him made the moment extremely tense. He always expressed all of the emotions growing inside him with his touch. Even when he couldn’t say what he wanted to, at the end he just showed it with his actions, and this situation was the perfect example.

You kissed him back, placing your hands on his back and pressing his body even closer to yours, craving for him to stay longer. Because of your thick jacket, you were slowly getting really warmed up. As Hoseok’s skin got hot, his citrus perfume was even more noticeable. Hobi rushed his hand through your hair, grabbing your waist with the second one, his body trembling a little. You felt your cheeks getting more and more blushed as he was slowly rubbing your back, bottom, then going back to waist again. You were already turned on and your chest got heavy, but Hoseok didn’t even took his lips from yours, not allowing you to catch a single breath. You haven’t seen your boyfriend in such a long time and you also felt his hungriness for your body. His lips started travelling to your neck, leaving a delicately red marks on your skin. Your breath got sharper and you let a quiet moan come out of your mouth.

All of a sudden, Hoseok took back and looked straight into your eyes, both of your faces blushed, breath still heavy. God, he was so beautiful with his dark, dimmed expression.

“I’m sorry” he said, diving his face into your clavicle “I couldn’t just go leaving you here looking at me like that. I’m sorry, really I shouldn’t have done this now.”

"What?” you asked confused. Jesus, all of the words you said in the last half an hour was mostly “what?”. Well, actually, what else you could say after you were making out like crazy for the past three minutes and now he is like “oh sorry sorry we shouldn’t oh sorry sorry nothing happened”?

“Fuck, how do I even explain this to you” he said, shaking his head, with a guilty expression on his face. “Yeah, you better explain it somehow”, you thought “I shouldn’t, ‘cause I have to leave in, like-” he looked at his watch “five minutes, and we propably won’t be able to meet today, even tomorrow” as he counted, your face started to turn sad “I don’t know if even this week” he stated after a short pause. You felt like your heart stopped for a second, but it actually wasn’t anything surprising.

“Oh.” That was everything your smart mind could think of after his words. You weren’t disappointed, why would you be? You knew from the start how a relationship with a freakin’ worldwide k-pop idol would look like. “Hey, I’m not mad!” You felt like you should make it clear. “I’m sure we will have some time together. We can grab lunch or something, it doesn’t have to be long” your tone sounded pretty desperate. He twisted his mouth into a pout as he heard you saying that. He wasn’t irritated with you, just with the whole situation you two were in.

“I’ll try my best” he smiled lightly, then placed a soft kiss on your lips. "But now I really have to go.”

"Let me know when you get there” you said with a kinda sad smile on your face, ‘cause you actually didn’t know what else you could say. His arms let go of your body as he slowly headed back to the entrance. The front door was still opened.

“Love you” he said, blowing you a kiss with a smiling face, slowly disappearing in the corridor.

(if you’re curious what Hoseok said, according to our dear GoogleTranslate it’s “oh my god is this my girl or im so exhausted that i’m seeing a ghost???)

“I got there, boys are sending you their love <3” Hoseok texted you after half an hour. You smirked lightly to your phone screen “give them some love from me too” you replied and continued to unpack your stuff from the suitcase. The apartment was honestly still full of your belongings, you took only the most necessary stuff for your trip. You didn’t need much, considering that you were going to a dance camp, where you were a teacher. “Why three months?”, you could ask. Actually, there was a three camps in a row, all of them a month long. And, humbly saying, you were pretty popular as the choreographer, so everybody went over the moon after it was publicly said that you would be there. You also didn’t want to miss the chance to make your popularity grow even higher. The pressure of being an idols’ girlfriend was still on your mind, so you wanted everyone to think of you as high as possible.

When you unpacked all of your things, you fell onto the couch and turned the tv on. You didn’t really have any plans for the upcoming week, as long as the Hoseok said that he probably won’t have time to meet you. It’s not that you didn’t have any friends - they were not close enough to you to know that you’ve already came back to Korea. To be honest, you actually didn’t mind staying at home for a whole week, watching some tv shows and eating takeaway food and going to work only when you had to. Hobi would propably be agitated seeing this type of behaviour - he always took care of you, making sure you were in perfect health, with a balanced diet. He just wanted to see you happy and sometimes it leaded him to be kind of an overprotective boyfriend, but he was pure with his actions towards you and wanted only all of the best for you. Your pure sunshine.

It still couldn’t stop you from having a human feelings and being sad when your loved one was not around. Like the casual girlfriend, you wanted to do THINGS with your boyfriend, even a simple ones like grocery shopping. Hiya, stop that, what kind of a grocery shopping, when you knew pretty well he had everything that he needed to be done around him done by someone else. It wasn’t a bad thing, you just had a simple desires and a simple thoughts of a simple human being. Even though you sometimes acted like a luxurious bitch you were really down to earth and usually had wishes easy to fulfill. Unfortunately, although he really wanted to, your boyfriend didn’t have time for that. So, most of the time you just worked with different bands and built a choreographies for them at your small dancehall, then headed back to your flat to read some books or watch tv alone. Rarely, you hang out with friends, but as long as you were hanging around the k-pop industry, they also didn’t have much free time. Sounds like a life of a loser, but you actually were pretty happy with how things turned out. It wasn’t frequent that someone like you made such a successful career.

Suddenly, you felt your phone vibrating next to your ear. It was another message from Hoseok, which you didn’t expect, ‘cause you knew he was at the dance practice. You raised your eyebrows as you read “I have something to tell you. Lunch tomorrow?”. At one time you were suprised that he had some spare time, but also you were frightened of the message tone. Something to tell you? Like, what the fuck? He wanted to break up with you or something? No, it can’t be it, earlier today he was sorry for kissing you too passionately and now he would break up with you? No, no, no, it had to be something else. BUT WHAT? “can’t you tell me on the phone? I’ll be worried sick” you responded fast, but then you thought it sounded like you don’t want to have a lunch with him, so you started to quickly type another text “but tomorrow lunch is also ok. what hour?” you replied again. “around 2pm, is that ok with u?” he texted back, not mentioning anything about the previous message you’ve sent. “k, see you then, miss you already” you wanted to soften his heart a little. He messaged you back with just a simple heart and you let your mind make a lot of fucked up stories how tomorrow lunch might end.

#jhope #j-hope #bts #jackson #jackson wang #fanfiction #imagine #scenario #smut #fluff #angst #j-hope scenario #jackson wang scenario #hoseok imagine #j-hope smut #jackson wang smut #jackson wang fluff #jackson wang angst #j-hope angst #got7 #bts smut #bts angst #bts fluff #got7 angst #kpop #kpop fanfiction #j-hope fluff #got7 smut #hoseok angst #hoseok smut

[wearesungreenmylove]

pt. 1

Simon: What age? High school or college?

Simon: By me saying the WiFi is proper shite I really mean that it's got a password and I was too awkward earlier to ask for it

Luna: HEY! YOU CAN'T JUST SAY THAT AND VANISH!!

Luna: I've got no idea what to do with this and you are clearly more emotionally invested

Simon: You could have serenaded him with cherry blossoms *so romantic*

Simon: *Google searches how to sign "please go on a date with Luna"*

Simon: Just keep writing just keep writing what do you do you write write write

While I creepily read along

Luna: To answer your question, yes, your book does have the typo

Simon: My toes are cold

Simon: I'm home. Just checking in with all the gays took a while

Simon: I just searched pain on Tumblr and it was like "are you okay" and then some lifeline, right? LIKE, NOOO!!! I WAS LOOKING FOR MY FIC

Luna: I don't know why I thought this was a good idea shisheiene

Luna: Quick, what's the gayest gay bar name you can think of, gay person?

Luna: How is a gay bar better than a frat party, Simon?

{i have discovered that they asked me to watch the shannara chronicles, which is on netflix, if anyone wants to join me in that}

Simon: You do have an insanely ginormous crush on him

Luna: And at the same time I thought "the fuck why is this a ship"

Luna: *hisssss* NO STANLON. STENBROUGH FOR LIFE.

Simon: more like stenbro

Simon: I have 11 children

Luna: There are grim reapers walking around the track. Should I be concerned? XD

Now there's a horde coming towards me imma back away slowly

They're planting graves now Rest In Peace

{it's at this point that i have accidentally pressed the back button, returning me to the bottom, so i'm now taking several minutes to find where i was again}

Luna: Okay, so are we. We had struggles with a show and went out later than expected.

Simon: You should make a kylodaddy sideblog

Simon: You know in Mulan when the mom is like "would you like to stay for dinner" and then the grandma's like "would you like to stay FOREVER". yeah, i am the grandma

Luna: She just said "nobody wants to see your butthole, Grant. We can barely stand looking at your face!"

Luna: Ha! No, not only would it ruin my moody "I hate everything" reputation I've gathered in this class, I would be murdered

Luna: Have fun at your gay thing XD

Simon: Last year I could almost perfectly copy Ashley's handwriting

Simon: And Mr. Schroeder?

Simon: At least you could partially blame that one on me

Luna: HE BUMPED ME

Simon: YOU COULD FALL IN LOVE OVER EMAIL

Luna: You're way too excited honestly I feel like you're gonna expect like fucking Keiynan Lonsdale-like perfection and then just get Caleb

Simon: Is it the kylodaddy club group chat? *wiggles eyebrows*

Simon: I will cancel his plans

Simon: don't judge me

Simon: I DON'T KNOW HIM SO IM ALLOWED TO BREAK THEM UP RIGHT

Luna: YESSSSS MY CHILD YOU HAVE TAKEN MY NAME FOR YOU I AM IN TEARS OF JOY

Simon: Ohkay, so we've got some nice middle age lesbians. Finally some representation

Simon: Could be a link to CACTUS PORN

Or that BIG LONG JUICY TOE

Simon: Also, *BONER NOISE*

Luna: h e c k y e a h

Luna: I'M PUTTING TOO MUCH THOUGHT INTO THIS BUT WHATEVER

Luna: Like I feel like maybe he would swish them around a lot absentmindedly

Simon: Yes, by like 3 inches

Luna: She's pretty tough for a crazy half-psychic

Luna: EW why no you've ruined him for me

Luna: Is this how you flirt

Simon: ...you literally sent it three minutes ago

Simon: WINKY FACE MEANS FLIRTING TRUST ME

Simon: HELLO I'M HERE, I'M QUEER, AND WOULD YOU PLEASE LIKE TO GO OUT WITH ME

Luna: I feel like you're over-invested in my love life

Simon: I thought you already knew that I give bad romance advice

Simon: Just because I'm in a relationship doesn't mean I know how I did it

Luna: aCK WHY NO THAT'S SO FORWARD

Simon: I just Google searched how to casually ask a guy out, so I hope you're happy

Luna: I kinda want to channel my inner Eddie Kaspbrak but I'm nervous

Luna: YPU AND MY BROTHER HAVE THE SAME GAY MIND

Simon: I will come caress your legs

Luna: Y'know what, you're the only person I'd let take a bunch of pictures of me, so

Luna: Although we should 110% have a photo shoot in downtown [insert the place we live] sometime with you and me

Simon: Fuck, I just realized I have a math quiz today

Simon: Spoil me up Luna

Luna: How much fanfiction DO you read, Si? It's all you're ever doing

Simon: Probably more than is healthy, but I have no regrets!!!

until I'm failing all my classes

oops

Simon: Hey, this time it really is a link to porn

Simon: Just text him saying that masturbation is not the answer

Luna: SIMON I'm gonna be kidnapped help

Luna: Caleb says happy birthday back

Luna: AND HE DROPPED THE FUCK WORD

Simon: Mac and Cheesie

We will not rest easy

Simon: Don't you have a lesbian aunt?

Luna: So there's ice cream truck music but it keeps fading in and out and I can't tell what direction it's coming from and all I can think is Pennywise??

Simon: 'drive yourself you crusty dick sock'

Simon: considering that we did the would you date me thing neither do i

Luna: Jesus, someone's getting frisky

Simon: FUCKIN YEEHAW

Luna: *praying in Italian*

Simon: we can both get boners together *winks*

Luna: Jesus your boner made me jump

Simon: Luna is in fact just a torso head and arms

Simon: oh hey it worked

i was just spelling diamond wrong

Luna: *sigh*

Luna: Me: *almost falls asleep on couch*

Also Me ; *lays down in bed* tHiS iS nO tImE fOr SlEePiNg!

#this is in chronological order btw #luna #funny text messages