#you have no idea how much I love cozy old men wearing cozy things

[callixspod]

tehe. Nathaniel Hudsons (narrator) wearing casual clothes <3

bonus+:

#you have no idea how much I love cozy old men wearing cozy things #ITS NICE. #aaaa so domestic so sweet #I want them dead. #the stanley parable #stanley parable #the stanley parable ultra deluxe #tsp #tspud #tspud stanley #tsp stanley #the narrator #tspud narrator

[scienceofsustainability]

'Consumption and Materialism' Reflective Journal - Part 1

October 24

The things people will buy… On social media today I saw an advertisement for a Sephora ‘advent calendar’.  It includes a gift item per day. Days of opening personal care items, probably unnecessary, the wrong color, something a person doesn’t even use as a rule. It’s like going into the store and picking up any random 12 items…and heading to the checkout to pay for them. It’s like buying items for a skin condition that you don’t have, or a replacement product for a trusted personal care item. All separately packed. This makes no sense to me at all. Why would I buy makeup and skin care items that I don’t need or use? Sephora is a popular brand, and for young men or parents wanting to make their girl happy at Christmas time, this may seem like a great purchase. Do we care if they will actually use the 12 items inside? Probably not.  Will she even use half of these items? Probably not. But we feel satisfied because we think this is a fun gift idea that she will love.  She will probably even be excited when she sees it! But the reality is that the surprise bag of goodies contains mostly useless items that end up in the trash.  The Christmas season brings with it the desire and usually the feeling of pressure to purchase things for others, most times unnecessary items, just so that we can buy ‘something’.  It’s wasteful and prompts the continuation of such trends or traditions. Commercial business capitalizes on all of this and generates even more products, marketing, and advertising. 

Credit - Sephora

October 25

I bought the bell…!  My 21 year old daughter asked me to take her to the mall about 20 minutes from our home.  At her age, the desire to have nice clothes is an important aspect of life, as going out with friends or to the gym requires looking good.  No longer do most people throw on old sweat pants and go out to the garage to workout, many people today go to local gyms, pay membership, and feel the need to wear particular brands of workout clothing and footwear:  “You can’t show up in that.” Purchased ‘Pre Workout’ powders are part of the routine too, so one can show up with a serious beverage in hand, and big name headphones waiting to blast motivating music.  So as she looks throughout the athletic clothing, I excitedly head over to look at… ahhh, Christmas decor…. It is an exciting time of the year.  For me, it is the decorations that I love.  I enjoy making the house feel cozy and beautiful. There it all is… so much to look at and choose from.  So much in the way of wreaths, blankets, cushions, little houses, signs… all different colors, sizes, styles… Looking at it all creates anticipation for the upcoming season.  Some remind me of childhood.  Some I look at and question “Who would buy this?” What a waste of hard earned money. Other stuff I love, and wonder how it would fit in my home? Do I need it? No. I have so much already… Does it make the holiday any better? No. Do I have the money to spend on it… maybe… but could that money be spent better somewhere else? Yes. I realize that I am better at talking myself out of purchases now than I was in the past.  Even though I probably have more disposable income now than I did ten years ago.  Maybe that is why I hold back more?…Maybe I am learning.  I do love those gold-colored rustic bells though... And last year when I seen them in Toronto, I felt that I had won the shopping lottery and bought two.  Here they are right in front of me, in Sydney no less… I hymn and ha over it and decide to allow myself to get one.  I think to myself, ‘some of my Christmas decor is dated, and it’s probably a good idea to add a little bit of new?’  I remind myself that I will have this for many years to come, and someday I may be able to pass decorations on to my grown children. And I resisted choosing anything else to buy… it’s only one thing. After I check out I realize that purchasing something provides a little bit of a boost, a happiness, something to look forward to when I start decorating, to set out, to look at.  I can’t wait to show it to my daughter.

Credit - Instagram

October 27

Dollar stores… where were dollar stores years ago when I was young and newly married?  We all could have saved a lot of money on things. If my mother were alive today, she would love this store so much. Everything is so cheap, and this store is filled with things that we could easily pay two or three times as much for somewhere else.  Dollar stores provide consumers with everything from personal care products, to toys, household necessities, craft supplies, and everything else you could need.  How many of us have wondered how in the world these items could be made and then sold for so little money? The materials alone. Then there is the labor, the workmanship making this basket… transportation costs, and wages? How is this only $2? But most of us dismiss that thought soon after, and keep looking for cheap treasures. Buying food here doesn’t seem like a good idea to me at all.  There is some reason why all of these items ended up here, and if there is an issue with a food item, then I don’t want it. However, I notice that some people shop the food aisle, and fill their basket with items that are much lower in price than Sobeys.  It doesn't matter if I need these right now,  but I am always looking for paint brushes so I will grab four or five, since they are only $2 each.  By the time I walk through the aisles, I have a few items in a basket.  Most of these items I would've bought somewhere else anyway.  I found myself picking out a Halloween card for my niece in Ontario…  I’ve just spent five minutes looking at the different options, then realize that it is too late to send a card, and that maybe that is not necessary, so I put the card back.  When I was young, nobody ever sent me a Halloween card.  That really is a crazy idea, probably another way for companies to sell me something.  As we purchase these cheap treasures, we are often ignorant of the natural resources that have been sacrificed, and to where these items will likely be in just a few short months.  Many of us will fill a bag with donation items this holiday season, to make room for more stuff, and drop it off in the local donation bin.  We walk away feeling satisfied believing that it will be reused.  The less consumers know, the happier they are. 

October 28

It’s the weekend and I need to start housecleaning for the winter season. There is so much stuff in this house it’s a bit overwhelming.  The storage room is full. I often can’t find particular items that I need, and I know that I sometimes re-purchase things that I already have. The girls' rooms are messy looking, as too much stuff prevents ‘tidying up’ from really making an impact. They don't think they have too much stuff. They love going to Walmart and the Dollar Store and coming home with new things. Their rooms look fine to them. But I am at the stage in my life where I like it clean, simple, organized.  Where do I start?  I want to purge so much stuff.  As I head to the storage room with bravery, and an attitude that I am going to clear it out, I soon lose my battle…It is so hard to part with things that I may ‘need’, the girls may look for, or that there is a memory attached to… I feel defeated, and these items feel heavy on me.  I really thought that I was going to make a big difference here today. I feel disappointed.  I lost the battle with our stuff.   I remind myself to stay out of the stores…

October 29

“Things you didn’t know you needed”... There is something cool about watching her put it all together. I think of how well equipped my daughter’s car is as I watch the video.  I like the idea of being prepared and organized. But do we really need all of that stuff in our car?!  Tik Tok shares ‘great Amazon finds’, and some are focused on restocking your car.  There are these sweet little car bags that have pretty little items in them, all compact and attractive, looking like you are prepared for anything. It makes you want to buy all of these items and also pack up a neat little bag to store all of your car ‘essentials’, such as lotions, lip balm, a variety of perfumes, deodorant, a migraine stick, are those face masks?...   There is a large compartmentalized bag filled with a variety of snacks, drinks, blankets, and everything you can think of.  There are more personal care products in that car than in my two home washrooms combined. This advertisement for car organization is satisfying to watch, and you have to admit that some items are cool, like the car window film, and vent sauce holders...  Who knew you needed a small diffuser in your car?  I end the video realizing that I don’t even have so much as a box of Kleenex in my car.  

October 30

She ‘can’t wait until her Shein order comes in’.  I’ve heard these words uttered many times.  Shein is a website that my girls like to use to pick out clothing.  It is easier to shop online than to find time to head to the mall and walk from store to store looking for items.  It can be done here and there in spare time. The added benefit is that you are provided with reviews and photos from other people who purchased the item.  Every few months the girls will put an order together.  While it may be good that we save gas driving to the mall, and the items are fairly inexpensive, the risk of something not fitting or them not liking and not wearing it, is likely.  But the clothes are cheap, so it’s worth the risk to them. Many people order from Shein, and also shop on other sites and at other stores such as Urban Plant, because the clothing is cheap. Cheap clothes means we can afford to buy new items, or more clothing more often.  I am aware that this is fast fashion, and that these clothes come from China.  I also know that the work conditions of those who make these clothes are probably not equitable.  I am aware that these are not quality items, so they will likely end up being donated in a few months.  I encourage the girls to go to the mall and look for better quality clothes. Things that will last, and that are basic and not trendy. I have sweaters and pants that I have had for many years.  They have served me well. If you spend a good amount of money on an item, but you wear it many times, the cost-per-wearing can be pretty low, and the item serves many years of service.  

October 31

What am I going to do with all of these treats?  Nine trick-or-treaters showed up tonight.  That is it.  Although I did not have many last year, three years ago I had about 60.  So on the way home from work, I felt that last minute concern that I should stop and get more pop and treats, and prepare more treat bags.  When my girls go out in the neighborhood at Halloween, they always come back with these amazing treat bags, with endless treats inside. I wonder how much money my neighbors actually spend on treats.  At some level, I have to keep up. When I was a child trick or treating, I would have had to go to a dozen homes to get all the treats that they get in now in one door knock… I shake my head because children really do not need all of this junk food, and I question how we got to this point where the reward is so great for dressing up and knocking on doors.  Now I have all of these bags of treats and I wish that I could return the items to the store. It’s a strange game we play trying to be sure that we have enough, worried that we may run out. Only to end up overspending, and stuck with food items that we don’t want, and certainly do not need. 

November 2

It’s all very confusing and I feel like none of them are probably safe or nutritious.  Yet, I am pushed to purchase the most expensive option, and that big price tag is supposed to help me to feel like it is the best choice.  There are so many brands of dog food, and each one claims that it meets the nutritional needs of my dog.  Each brand has many options to choose from based on the age and activity level of your pet, so it seems like you're selecting a custom formula.  There is even dog food formulated for specific breeds only, with a cute picture of a perfect happy Yorkie on the bag. How many people buy into that? Plenty I bet. What a marketing idea that is.  But of course, you should never buy your pet food from a grocery store, the place where you buy your own groceries...  That food is not good… No, if you love your pet and are a good owner, you must purchase your pet food at a Veterinarian's office or at a reputable pet store.  I’ve been made to feel guilty for not buying my dog food at the vet.  Turning them down made me feel like less of a pet parent.  Unworthy of a good dog. Our new puppy came with instructions from the breeder to only feed him Royal Canin puppy food. This brand claims that “Each formula has been created to deliver nutrition tailored to your pet’s health needs”. But really, don’t they all claim that?  Shouldn’t they all be striving to provide that?  Animal health experts often speak out about processed dog food, and claim that its nutritional value is very low because it has been cooked, altering food's chemical structure, and making it difficult for a dog to digest.  Yet, the 13 lb bag of brand name puppy food just cost me $102 with taxes paid.  As a consumer, I am not sure what else to do, as I try to provide the best for my dog, while also not being fooled into thinking that I actually am…

Theo

November 3

Instagram provides me with daily images of house decor that I love.  Simple, clean, cozy rooms with gorgeous throw pillows, lamps, throw blankets… I love it all. And of course, I wonder how I could make my house look more like this.  I even find myself snapping screenshots to put in my album ‘Home Decor Ideas’ on my phone.  I follow a few decorators on social media, and there is one in particular, I love all of her ideas.  Of course that means that I need to change my paint colors, and get a new kitchen table.  I’ve gone to local furniture stores looking for something similar to what she has, but I can’t find it.  I allow myself this to some degree because I do not spend a lot of money on clothing or anything else, home decor is what I enjoy. But it never really ends.  It is a cycle of changing up paint and decor items as the trends change.  I quickly tire of patterns, and want something else.  What I think will really spruce up a room, only satisfies me for a short time, then I grow tired of it, and want a change. Of course, with each season you need to be ready to change, if you follow social media.  They have all of these different things for each and every season.  You can’t just have one chunky throw blanket, you need 4 or 5.  Presently I am looking for a clay-based lamp and a clay vase or two.  The current decor trend is homey, simple, neutral, and organic.  I’ve been in plenty of local stores looking for such things, yet can’t find them.  Cape Breton is sure behind in the times when it comes to decor!  So I go online and find some, however they are very expensive. The sticker shock stops me, and I wonder if it is really a good idea to pay $350 for a single lamp.  I tell myself that I don’t really need it, and snap back to reality.  Yet each time I see her posts on Instagram, I am drawn in, and making mental notes of a few items that I could add to my decor list. 

Credit - Instagram

November 6

‘What do you want for Christmas?’  Now that my three daughters are grown up, I usually ask them what they want for Christmas.  I love surprising them with nice gifts, but I certainly do not want to buy anything that they won’t use or won’t like.  I have family and friends who go into debt during the holidays just so they can fill a room with endless gifts for their loved ones. I have never been in the habit of buying things just to say that I did.  I always try to get them something they’d really like and will use, as well as any new clothing items that they need for the upcoming winter season. In recent years, they don’t even know what to ask for. There is not much they need. But I have to buy them something, so I start looking for options and hope that something good comes along.  I often think of the other seasons and wonder if they could use a new lawn chair for next summer’s concert, or if I should start them on collecting necessary items for a future home. I am pretty good at avoiding a lot of the hype about the best new technology, and my goal is not to spend a ton of money.  I have always tried to make Christmas about the traditions and the family time.  For a number of years now, we have been filling a donation box of clothing and food items to donate to those in need.  It is a tradition that they now look forward to, and they put thought into the best food items to purchase to place in the donation box.  This is the best gift that I could get for Christmas, seeing them think of and care for others. 

November 7

‘It looks like a store in here’... How much camo can a guy have?  As I am housecleaning for the upcoming winter season, I walk into the room in which my husband stores all of his hiking and hunting gear.  It is overwhelming the amount of things that he has.  I can remember when times were simple, and hunters had an orange vest and a rifle.  Not anymore.  Did you know that it is necessary to have different types of camo for different seasons and animals that you are hunting? Now that we have large scale hunting and fishing stores such as Bass Pro, outdoor activities usually involve expensive gear.  No longer do most people make their own ice-fishing tents.  Stores sell quick set-up tents with convenient pouches for holding essentials, and viewing holes and windows to look through.  Things that used to involve individual creativity, recycling of materials, and people coming together on homegrown projects, have now been replaced with commercial items, and the need for significant money to be spent.   Perceived obsolescence means that a person feels pressured to buy these items, and that the old ways of doing things are no longer acceptable. Hearing these outdoor adventurists talk about their hobbies usually involves them discussing items they need to acquire, and the newest item that you can get, not the actual fun that they have while out there doing it. It’s sad that these wholesome activities have been overtaken by commercialism. 

Credit - Eskimo Products

Shifting Patterns of Consumption - Part 2

In an effort to reduce my consumption, and to help the planet, there are a few things that I do, and I hope to add many more actions to the list.  The first is that I try to use online grocery shopping whenever possible.  This helps to reduce point of purchase sales, and helps me stick to the list of things that I ‘need’.  I feel that online grocery shopping is time and cost efficient, and allows me opportunity to ensure that I am only adding items to my cart that I will use.  Less impulsive purchases also means less waste, and less money spent. 

Another thing that I have changed about my habits is that I never put any plastic in the garbage.  I always put it in a recycle bag, in the hopes that it will indeed be recycled.  I used to put plastic food packaging and other types of plastic in my kitchen garbage.  Not anymore.  It pains me to see plastic takeout containers thrown in the trash.  Plastic bags may have been removed from shopping stores, but many items still come wrapped in plastic, such as wood pellets, frozen food products, some pet food, and a host of other items. If any of these items can be reused or recycled, and I sure hope they can, then I will always do my best to make sure they don’t go out with the trash. I have been encouraging my children and my students to always do what they can to help our planet. Every one person can contribute to an overall impact.

#materialism #environment #ethics #morality #consumerism #overconsumption #recycle #reuse #ecofriendly #homemade

[ellavogues]

sunday mornings - harry styles

summary: your relationship with harry has always been ‘whatever it is’, although you both secretly long for more.

a/n so this was originally posted on my old blog which i deactivated, but im too proud of this to let it be gone forever <3

Sunday mornings always seem to start the same. You’re cozied up in his bed, head on his chest and his arm splayed across you, the light shining through the gaps of his curtains.

Memories from the night before tend to replay in your head as you wait for him to wake up - from the pre game at his house, to his hand on the small of your back leading you out to his car and only leaving to open the door for you, to the club or shitty frat party that he had somehow weaseled his way into where he’d hold your hand while he filmed and makeout with you in the corner once he had finished.

Then the journey home. Harry being the only sober one of his friends almost always ended up being the designated driver, dropping all of them off at their respective households. Not that he minded, it was the perfect opportunity for him to talk to you.

It was always incredibly easy talking to him. He was good at small talk, and he was good at turning small talk into meaningful and often fun conversations.

Conversing was one of his many talents you told him as he was dropping his friend off at his house one night. Harry couldn’t help but laugh at the unique compliment you gave him, his hand landing gently in your thigh, giving it a small squeeze as his head tilted slightly back as he laughed.

“Baby, what does that even mean?” He chuckled, shaking his head as he tilted it to look at you. You could get lost in his eyes.

Even after six months of whatever your relationship with Harry was, your heart still skipped a beat every time he called you baby. You tried fruitlessly to stop ot hide the blush rising to your cheeks as a result of the nicknames he called you, but he never missed it.

It was one of his favorite things to see; something as simple as a pet name got you all nervous in the best way.

Despite Harry being better at hiding it, you had the same effect on him. Whether it’s you calling him Haz (you’re the only person he’ll allow it from) or you playing with his hair while you watch your show together, he gets butterflies in his stomach every time.

One day, when you came over for a movie night and ice cream, you came with a bunch of shopping bags. Harry’s first reaction was to wind you up, tease you for your frivolous shopping habits. But when you set your bags down and reached into one of them, feeling around for something and pulling out a T-Shirt and hoodie - a men’s T-Shirt and hoodie - Harry’s expression turned from playful and confused.

“What’s that for?” He asked casually, eyebrows furrowed.

“I was shopping for myself and I saw these and I, I thought they would look good on you,” you tell him, honestly nervous as to how he’d react. You had no idea how serious the two of you were, and whether this gesture, as simple as it may be, would scare him off.

But Harry’s confused face turned into a smile, relieving any anxieties you had. He couldn’t believe you thought of him when you saw these clothes and then cared enough about him to buy it.

That’s when he realized he loved you. And it scared the shit out of him.

He wore the hoodie to pick you up the next Saturday, repeating your weekly routine of hanging out then going out. He took everyone to a new bar that just opened that night, and invited some other friends outside of his usual group to join.

You had to watch some girls you’ve never met (but Harry clearly has) flirt with him while he wore a hoodie you bought. You hated how much it infuriated you, because despite how much you longed for him to be yours, he wasn’t. Your relationship with him was just whatever it was.

And you hated it because you loved him. And you hated that you loved him.

The next morning, Sunday morning, you woke up in his arms wearing his T-Shirt. Anyone would think that you were his, but you weren’t. You were the first to wake up, as always, and Harry was snoring beneath you. You felt like his, but you weren’t.

The week flew past, you only came over a few times for a movie night and to keep him company while he edited. Both times he wanted you to sleep over, so both times you did. How could you ever say no to him?

But the next day, when you woke up, he was gone already - off to some meeting or to film. You didn’t want to let it hurt you, because you knew how busy he was, how hard he worked. He doesn’t have time for a relationship with you more than whatever it was.

So you chose to ignore the pit in your stomach that only grew every time you left his house or every time he left early. You grabbed your things, shot him a text, and left, pretending it didn’t bother you. Because it didn’t bother you. That was just how things were, and how they had to be.

The next Sunday morning, he broke your heart.

Things were too complicated, there were too many strings and they were all beginning to get knotted. He needed to untie them before the knot got too big.

And you understood, like you always do. It was for the best, if he kept whatever the relationship you two had going any longer, you might’ve fallen too hard and obtained permanent damage only he could mend. So you just nodded in understanding, not daring to meet his eyes, as he tried to let you down gently.

It broke his heart too.

Harry didn’t realize at first, he thought that with you gone his love for you would vanish as quick as you did. But he was reminded by it constantly. He found himself staring at the hoodie you bought him, until he got so frustrated and confused that he tore it off the hanger and threw it to the back of his wardrobe. But then he started seeing your face in all the little things you two used to always share, like the fluffy blue blanket on his couch and the cookies you got him hooked on.

Eventually he found himself laying on his bed alone on a Sunday morning with the fluffy blue blanket and the hoodie you bought him.

You both tried dating, but it didn’t fill the freshly dug hole in your hearts.

The thing with knots is that they’re hard to untie and the strings remain tangled. The harder you pull the strings in opposite directions, the tighter the knot gets.

When some girl Harry was on a date with a random Saturday night told him he was a good conversationalist, he rudely and abruptly told her he had to leave and this wasn’t going to work out. His anger masked the hurt he felt from missing you.

The next morning he woke up without you in his arms, which just felt wrong for a Sunday morning.

He thought about calling you, he even stared at your contact for about half an hour before he had the balls to get up, grab his hoodie and drive to your place. He had no idea what to say to you.

When you opened your door at eleven a.m. that Sunday morning, he was the last person you were expecting.

“What do you want?” You words were cold and your face was blank. He broke your heart, which broke his.

“I fucking miss you.”

“You can’t do this, Harry,” you tell him, voice shaky as you put all your energy into keeping your guard up. “It’s not fair. You ended things. You didn’t want whatever the fuck our relationship was.”

“I don’t want that,” Harry says bluntly. “Fuck that. I want more than that. I want you to be mine.”

You’re taken aback at his words, you never thought that he’d ever find enough time in his busy, fast-paced, hectic life for you.

“You broke my heart.”

“I know, love, and I’m sorry,” Harry takes a step forward, reaching out to you. He knows the effect ‘baby’ has on you. “I was a fucking dumbass. I thought - I thought whatever feelings I had for you would disappear when you left, but they didn’t. You’re everywhere.”

“I’m not having a label-less relationship with you,” you state. “I want it to be official.”

Harry nods, stepping closer to you again. “Will you be my girlfriend?”

This was the best Sunday morning of them all.

#harry styles x reader #harry styles #harry styles fic #harry styles angst #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x you

[lokislastlove]

Best Laid Plans (Fluffy Bucky x Reader) p3

Summary: Bucky is determined to woo you properly, no matter how rusty he is at dating these days.

Warnings: Some smut at the end, oral (fr), Bucky has bad luck, but we love him anyway. 18+ only please.

This is my first attempt at Fluff, it is not my strength, to say the least, so by all means ignore this. @saiyanprincessswanie I wrote this for you, I hope you like it and with any luck maybe it brings a tiny smile to your face when you need it. 💕 Also remember this is fiction, I know Bucky’s arm is fancy as hell and has no flaws.

Chapter 3 -

🌹 The Third Date 🌹

The office is abuzz with rumors of your new romance. For obvious reasons Pepper never shuns coworkers dating, but does caution that she expects everyone to remain professional regardless of the outcome. Bucky is one of the most sought after bachelors in the building so naturally people notice when he fixes his attention on you. For the two days following your fruit-filled frolic in the hills Bucky is constantly around. He brings you coffee, flowers by the dozen every day, saves you a seat during the meetings, cooks you lunch and even brings Kal in to see you.

“Okay, I can’t wait any longer. You willing to give me that second chance, tomorrow?” Bucky bursts into your office an hour before you leave Friday evening.

You gasp as the door slams against the wall and he cringes, “uh, sure. I’m free tomorrow. Should I just go ahead and wear my yoga pants?”

“Ha ha. Very funny. And no. I let Steve pick the date idea this time. Just don’t wear anything that you don’t want getting a little dirty,” he winks.

You let out a sigh, “wouldn’t it be easier to just tell me what we’re doing?”

“That’s no fun, Angel.”

——

The next morning you wake up to a text from Bucky, just like you have every morning since your first date.

Good Morning, Beautiful! Can’t wait to see you today. I’ll pick you up at 11am. 😀

Bucky has managed to make waking up a highlight of your day, something you never thought possible. Plus you got him to start using emojis, which Steve claims he will never forgive you for.

You choose some dark wash jeans and a V-neck t-shirt with a jacket and boots. Stylish but casual, you feel good, excited to find out what adventure Bucky will be dragging you into this time.

Your phone dings as you race out the front door and gulp when you see the bike again. God he looks good with it though, his light brown leather jacket highlights his olive skin and his dimpled smile has you swooning as you reach him. Determined to get a hang of this motorcycle thing you jump on back and cling to Bucky with a bit more confidence today.

Bucky reigns in his speed this time, and you find yourself enjoying the rush of the wind on your face and the warmth of him in your arms. To your shock Bucky leads you to a ceramic shop not far from Avengers tower, specifically for couples pottery class.

“Steve assures me that this is supposed to be fun and romantic,” Bucky says as you find yourself sitting next to him on a dirty stool with a spinning round table in front of you.

“Steve hasn’t been watching old romance movies again, has he?”

Bucky squints at you, “Actually, yeah but he said it had ghosts in it, and I got enough of those.”

You grab his hand and give it a squeeze before taking a deep breath, “Ok, let’s do this!”

It takes about a minute to realize what a terrible idea this is as Bucky curses under his breath and his arm starts making strange whirling noises.

“Oh shit, uh is clay good for your arm?” You ask, nodding at the way the plates of his metal arm seems to twitch and groan as the wet clay slide and congeal between them as they shift.

“Fuck,” Bucky curses as he shakes out his metal arm and you grimace at the worrisome noise it makes before it stops moving all together.

“Do you want to take it off?” you offer.

Bucky looks frustrated with a hint of panic as he sits there contemplating the best move. He still isn’t very comfortable going without his arm in public.

“Or we could just decide not to take Steve’s dating advice anymore and go back to the tower and get cleaned up?” You laugh and bump him with your elbow.

He scoffs out a laugh, “yeah. You know I used to be the one that was good at this stuff, I was the charming one who helped get Steve a date.”

“Oh is that so? Well I think you’re doing better than you think you are,” you smirk.

“Yeah?” He asks hopefully.

“Yeah, now come on Casanova,” you stand and wipe your hands on the towel nearby.

You can’t help but laugh as you follow him out the door, looking at the light gleam off the metal that isn’t covered in clay.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing, it’s just… gonna be hard to convince me you’re not a complete mess after this one.”

——

You could tell Bucky’s confidence had taken a major hit, well three major hits to be honest. And while he constantly berated himself for everything that went wrong, you couldn’t help but love him even more with each blunder. And when he doesn’t insist you give him another shot after that disastrous pottery date, you seek out Steve’s advice.

“Do you think I should try to make a move? Ask him on a date maybe? Or is that insulting to … men from your era,” you finish awkwardly.

Steve laughs softly, “I think Bucky could use a sign that you aren’t willing to give up yet. You should give it a shot, as long as it’s what you want and not just out of pity.”

“Of course it’s not out of pity, you really think I’d do that?” you ask, trying not to get too offended.

“No, doll, of course I don’t. But that’s likely what he’s going to think.” He placates and gives you a knowing look before walking out of your office.

You push back your shoulders and pull out your phone to text Bucky.

Hey if you’re free tonight you should come over to my place. Maybe around 8pm? No dress code. 😘

🌹 The Fourth Date 🌹

Bucky arrives at 7:50pm that evening and you push the buzzer to let him in. You leave the door cracked for him and finish the final touches.

“Angel?” He calls as he knocks and you hear the door creak open. “Uh, hello?” His voice falters as he closes the door behind him and takes in the candles neatly arranged along a path of rose petals.

You hear him remove his heavy boots and call your name as he follows the path further into your apartment and closer to where you’re waiting for him. You shift nervously on your feet as you wait with baited breath for him to appear around the corner.

“Angel, what’s going..” His voice gets caught in his throat as he stands in your doorway and sees you waiting for him.

You’re wearing a simple nightgown, a silky robe and stockings. The thin straps and sleek material drape softly over your curves, enticing enough to make him pause but not overly revealing to be considered scandalous. You didn’t want to be too bold and scare him off too fast, or make yourself appear too desperate.

“Hi, Bucky,” you smile as you watch his pupils dilate and his chest strain against his shirt as his breathing gets heavier.

He clears his throat and his cheeks glow pink as his eyes flick up to meet yours, “uh hey, Angel. Am I dreaming?”

You laugh as you take a few steps toward him and he mirrors you, “I just thought that maybe I’d surprise you with a date, this time. If you’re up for it.”

“Well, I will admit that my interest is quite peaked already.” He jokes, his eyes roving down your body once more as he gently takes your hands and holds them out to get a better look at you.

You giggle and rolls your eyes, “Nothing crazy, just a simple movie date, and I have the perfect set up. Follow me.”

You pull him over to your bedroom window and climb out onto the fire escape, he follows closely, his curiosity climbing with each creaky step.

“You sure this is safe?” He asks as the stairs rattle under his weight.

“No,” you say simply as you reach the top, “but it’s worth it.”

Bucky’s eyes widen as he takes in the rooftop space that you’ve meticulously decorated for him. Strings of lights hang on the low rooftop walls. A large air mattress is tucked between the pipes and vents, facing a large projector screen. You made sure to add mountains of fluffy pillows and soft blankets to keep you cozy under the stars.

“This is amazing,” he mutters as he eyes the plate of snacks and bottle of wine waiting on the bed.

“I know, isn’t the view amazing? I’ve always loved it up here, but I didn’t know it had this much potential until now,” you remark as you look out onto the glimmering view of the city skyline.

Bucky’s fingers slip between yours and curl sweetly as he guides you over to the soft bed. He flops down and settles in before opening his arm for you to join him. You grab the remote and the wine and curl up next to him. Drawing up your legs and letting them rest against his muscular thigh.

“I don’t deserve all this,” he utters sadly as he watches you pour the wine.

“Steve said you’d say something stupid like that,” you laugh as he looks stunned for a moment. “So let me just settle this right now.” You take deep breath and let it out with a quiet huff.

“I have been the happiest I’ve ever been since you asked me out on that first date. I look forward to waking up every morning knowing I’ll get to see you and possibly, maybe, do more than just ogle you from afar. Oh don’t look at me like that!” You laugh and smack Bucky’s shoulder when he smirks at you and wiggles his brow.

“I know you think you blew it after our first three dates but all I remember is seeing a passionate man willing to chase down a dog through the mud, even if it meant embarrassing himself. I remember you saving me from a potentially fatal injury, and I remember a man so desperate to impress me that he took advice from Steve Rogers,” you bite your lip as you watch Bucky choke out a laugh at your jab at his best friend.

“You may think all of these moments are flaws, but honestly I wouldn’t want to change a single thing. So let’s just –” Your speech is cut off when Bucky’s hands are suddenly on the side of your face and pull you in for a blazing kiss.

It’s as though you’ve unlocked something in him as he devours you, his tongue trailing across your lip and delving into your mouth when you open for him. You moan as his hands slip down to your neck, his thumbs pressing ever so slightly on your pressure points before he pulls away just enough to kiss and nibble along your jaw. The pleasure and passion is dizzying and you feel your body bend to his will. Your hands grasp at his shirt as he nuzzles and sucks along your neck now, making his way to your clavicle.

The feather pillow braces your head as Bucky lays you down and hovers above you, his body heat warming you as the cool night breeze tickles over each spot he kisses.

“God, Angel, you have no idea how badly I want you right now. How badly I’ve wanted you for so long.” He groans against your chest, dragging his nose over the thin material between your breasts.

“Me too,” you breathe.

You push at the lapel of his jacket, trying to urge him to take it off. He sits up, fixing his eyes on you as he slowly strips off his coat and tosses it away, followed by his shirt immediately after. Your breath hitches as you let your fingers lightly glide down his stomach, feeling every ripple of firm muscle under his heated skin.

“Wow, the girls at work would be so jealous right now,” you kid.

“I’m almost offended that you think this is my best feature,” he scoffs gesturing to his stomach, his eyes glinting mischievously.

“By all means, show me more. I did come up here for a show after all,” you tease, tilting your head and biting your lip as you eye the growing bulge in his pants.

“Oh, I think I know how to keep you entertained,” he smirks and lowers himself over you, his hot breath leaving goosebumps on your skin as he dips lower down your body.

You look down as he pauses over your quivering center and lifts the hem of your dress up to reveal your lace panties. He growls lowly and hooks his finger under them, pulling them quickly to the side. You twitch as he blows lightly over your lips, the cool air hitting the slick arousal already pooling between your thighs. He chuckles as you grip the blankets tightly and he pushes his long thick tongue between your folds, circling your bud at the top. You let out a long moan as his fervor increases, the feeling of his rough tongue dipping into your dripping hole and then back up to flick over your clit is driving you closer and closer to the edge.

After the past two weeks of the most intense sexual tension you’ve ever experienced it doesn’t take much for him to have you squirming under his touch. Your toes curl and a broken scream echoes over the rooftops as you come on his hungry lips.

“You’re so beautiful,” he coos as your eyes flutter open and see him hovering over your face once more.

Your jaw slackens, pupils blown as you take in his debauched state, his tousled hair, lips and beard glistening with your come. You reach up and pull him down to you, tasting yourself on his tongue. You feel his metal arm fumble with his jeans between you as he pulls out his aching cock. Your eyes flick down in curiosity and you can’t help but gasp as you gaze at his veiny, thick length.

“You see how hard you make me?” He moans, fisting the base of his leaking cock.

You bite your lip, feeling an overwhelming desire to let him use you in any way he wants. Your body arching into him and your hips rolling desperately. Your submissive side blooming under his dominant tone.

You whimper and meet his eye, “fuck me, Bucky. Please.”

Your voice is soft and timid, nothing like the typical commanding confidence you have in your daily life, and it sends a thrill through Bucky. He latches onto your thighs and pushes them up toward your chest, exposing your cunt to him and he guides himself inside, moaning freely as your walls stretch to fit him.

“I’m never letting you go. My perfect, Angel.”

#Bucky Barnes x reader #fluffy bucky #fluffy bucky x reader #fluffy fic #smut #Bucky Barnes

[tomtenadia]

A Little Braver - 20

Even if I had a crazy day at work I did manage to do my Monday post as promise... but if you notice typos...I am sorry. I read it and edited but my brain  left with the boat tonight (I work for a ferry company, hence the joke)

This is the first of a few chapters where our bird boy is away and Hamel is causing problems to our gang.

Also, Aelin tries to cook... well... you can imagine how did that go.

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

After the trip to the base Aelin had taken home a very sad Elide and then got back to her own place and cried herself to sleep while hugging Rowan’s pillow. It was very late in the afternoon and it was her day off and she had no intention of leaving her bed.

Her head was buried under the pillow when she heard her phone buzz so she scrambled to get it and her heart raced when she saw it was Rowan.

“Hi,” she said with a croaked vice.

“Are you okay?” Rowan was already in fussing mode.

“Yes I just woke up.” She heard a lot of background noise “where are you?”

“Vulture’s row.” He activated his camera and showed Aelin the view of a fully functional flight deck. “Uh, wait.” He pointed the camera stern of the ship and showed Aelin a jet landing.

“That was so cool.” He turned the camera to him and she saw him with his sunglasses and his hair messed up by the wind. Then he switched off the camera and they went back to normal.

“Are you there yet?”

“We are skirting around. We still have a few hours before we are fully in enemy territory.”

Then Aelin heard a siren of some sort and Rowan swore “I’ll call you as soon as I can again. I need to scramble. Love you.”

“Be safe.” She managed to add before he closed the phone call.

She collapsed again in bed then decided to call Lysandra and Elide and organise a day out the three of them shopping. Elide needed cheering up as well.

The next day Aelin, Elide and Lysandra had decided to have a girls’ afternoon to cheer up the two ladies who had their boys away. They met at the entrance of the shopping centre and Aelin went to hug Elide first of all “how are you doing?”

“Lorcan gave me a brief call yesterday telling me they were on the ship and on their way, then he had to go.”

Aelin sighed “today we don’t think about our far away boys.”

“And maybe you can buy some very sexy lingerie as a present for when Lorcan comes back.” Commented Lysandra and Elide blushed.

“What’s the point?” Asked Elide “you are taking it off anyway.”

Aelin laughed and took Elide’s hand “remember the dress I had at the navy party?”

Elide nodded “it was stunning.”

“I was not wearing anything underneath. It drove Rowan crazy.”

“I have done it a few times with Aedion and I agree with Aelin. The sex afterward has been amazing.”

“How do I learn all these things?”

“Stick with us and we will teach you.”

“Let’s go for some food,” said Aelin, “I haven’t eaten yet.”

“How will you survive now without your sexy chef in the house?” Asked Lysandra.

“Oh, I’ll just go back to my usual order in and ready meals.” Shrugged Aelin who had no intention of even trying to cook anything.

Lysandra took Aelin’s hand and walked toward a restaurant “come on Elide, let’s get this girl properly fed.”

The three women got into the restaurant and sat down and Aelin started perusing the menu eager for some decent food and not long after they placed their order. Lys was right, without Rowan she would be lost when it came to food. Rowan had properly spoiled her.

“How are the wedding preparations going?” Asked Aelin.

Lysandra and Aedion’s wedding was not far away and she was excited to see her best friend finally having her happy ending.

“We are getting there.”

“Do you have a dress yet?” Asked Elide all excited.

Lysandra took out her phone and showed them her dress.

“That is gorgeous. Aedion will not be able to keep his eyes off you during the ceremony.”

“That is the plan.” Lysandra smiled wickedly “but the biggest question is who is going to be next?”

“My money is on Aelin,” chimed Elide “Lor is not emotionally ready for such a step. You and the captain on the other hand…” her eyebrows flicked in amusement.

“She is right, and the two of you basically live together.”

“Yes and no.”

“What do you mean?” Lysandra was confused by the admission.

“We haven’t covered the subject yet. He still has his flat and some of his stuff there. Even after I recovered he never left and I never pushed because I like having him around.”

“Will you ask him to move in officially?”

Aelin sighed “maybe. When he comes back. I don’t know. Things are going well and I don’t want to mess it up.”

“Do you think he’ll say no?” Asked Lysandra. Brainstorming with her friend was always helpful and recently she hadn’t done it enough.

“I don’t think so. But living together is as far as we can go just now. For many, many reasons.”

“Is it because of Sam?”

“Only partially.” She was not going to tell her friends Rowan’s story. She had no right. So she remained vague hoping the two friends would get the hint and not ask anymore questions.

“Still, my money is on you two.” Added Lys “Elide is right, Lorcan does not seem to have yet the emotional ability to commit.”

“Hey, he kissed her in public. And yesterday at the base he seemed quite nice to her.”

“Quite?”

“I don’t know, I was concentrating on Rowan I just cast a brief glance at them.” Replied Aelin.

“He was super kind.” Added Elide taking biting on a breadstick.

Their food finally arrived and Aelin was the first to tuck in.

“Does the captain know about your crazy eating habits?” Asked Lysandra amused.

“Yes,” replied Aelin, enjoying her food “he calls me his bottomless pit. When we had our first date he joked that he might need a mortgage just to feed me.”

Elide laughed “Sam used to joke and say that he needed a second job just for feeding you.”

“I move a lot,” replied Aelin with a grin “I have a big appetite.”

“I think it must be a firefighter thing. Aedion is the same.” Lysandra grinned “and we burn a lot of calories.”

“Eeewwww, I did not need to know that. He is my cousin.”

“Oh come one, as if you and hot captain do not engage in illicit activities. The whole squad guessed that the other night you two had sex in the shower after the call at the club.”

“I was just giving him a special goodbye.” Her hand gently brushed the spot where she could feel his tags. She did a bit of research and she was happy she had a copy. Having the real one meant he was gone and she could not think about that.

“Are you okay?” Asked Lysandra worried at her sudden change of expression.

“Yeah.” She added flatly, then gave them a big smile. It was their day off she should not spoil it.

“So, are we taking Elide lingerie shopping?” Aelin teased trying to raise the spirits of her friend.

“Yes, it’s going to be fun.” Added Lysandra all excited.

“Girls… there is really no need. What I have is okay. Lorcan is not fussed.”

Aelin took a bite of her food “oh but we will make sure he is fussed and also that he knows how sexy you are so he does not decide to…. wander.”

“How do I keep him? I am nowhere near as interesting as the two of you. He might get bored of me very soon.”

Aelin stared at her friend and it broke her heart that her horrible past left her with no confidence at all. Elide was brilliant at her job and she was an intelligent woman and she was positive she would make quite a few heads turn.

“Don’t you say something like that ever again.” Lysandra preceded her. She was even more protective of Elide than her “I work with you everyday and I know how awesome you are and I am positive that if we go to a club you’d have your share of men looking at you.”

Aelin nodded.

They finished their meal and went back wandering around the shopping centre and visited a few shops. In one of them Aelin wandered in the male department and spotted a couple of lovely jumpers. One of them was a deep green and looked very cozy and she realised she had no idea of when it was Rowan’s birthday.

Silly question, you never told me your birthday. She sent the text and knew a reply might take a long time to come. She grabbed the jumper and tried to decide whether it was the right size for him.

“That is a lovely jumper.” Said Lysandra joining her at her side “already thinking about useful presents? You are like an old married couple.”

Aelin laughed.

“But I think this one is really nice and the man seems to look amazing in green.”

“I am just wondering about the size.”

Lysandra grabbed the tag “this one will fit Aedion so you should be fine.”

A moment later Elide rejoined them, her face beetroot red “I feel so silly.” And showed the girls her bag with her lingerie purchase.

“Hey, Ace and I are joking. You didn’t have to buy it if it makes uncomfortable.” But Elide surprised them “I will buy just one pair for now and I’ll see how it goes.”

Lysandra laughed “Aelin is already buying presents married couple style and you are still in the sexy lingerie stage. My girls have grow up so much.”

“And what stage are you and Aedion?” Asked Aelin with a grin.

“The one where I go to the grocery store and I phone him to ask him if he wants beef or chicken for dinner.”

The rest of the afternoon went swimmingly and she loved spending the day with Lys and Elide. They didn’t do that nearly enough.

Now she was back home and in the kitchen trying to accomplish her new mission. She had bought a cooking book for beginners and she had decided she was going to try and cook dinner. Lysandra had told her to start with something as simple as a stir fry. So she had bought a few more kitchen supplies and a pan Lys had told her was called a wok. She had mused why she could not use the pot she already had and Lys had rolled her eyes. Aelin had also bought the ingredients and now they were all lined up in front of her, the book open and a fire blanket and a small fire extinguisher on the counter just to be safe it was her cooking after all. She took a photo and sent it to Rowan then started working. When it got to cut the onions she cursed herself for deciding to cook.

Her phone rang and put it on speaker “hey,” her voice sounded strained and Rowan went in full fussing mode “are you okay?”

“Yeah, cutting those blasted onions.” She sniffled.

Over the line she heard Rowan roar with laughter “what are you making?” He asked as soon as he stopped laughing.

“A chicken stir fry. Lys said it’s easy to do.”

“Why are you putting onions in it?”

“Because I like them, mr I know how to cook.”

“I even bought a wok. Apparently I cannot use my pot.” She added as while throwing the ingredients in the pan.

“Seriously, when I get back we are going to have a massive overhaul of your kitchen.”

And Aelin’s heart raced in joy. It sounded like he had no intention of going back permanently to his flat. Maybe when he got back she should ask him the question after all.

“Aelin, it’s a miracle you have cutlery and two plates.” She could hear the humour in his voice.

“How are things going?”

“I just came off patrol. I am on my way to my quarters to get changed. I don’t have the most appealing scent just now.”

“Shower without me, so what? Two minutes max?”

“That’s about it. The water supply is not endless.”

He finally got to his quarters and collapsed on his bed after removing his boots then lay down and activated the camera.

“Hi sexy,” she did the same and placed the phone against the wall in front of her so he could see her as well.

“I don’t see any smoke. That’s a good start, considering it’s you.”

Aelin gave him the middle finger and then showed him her small fire extinguisher “I am prepared.” She took a bit of her food “for now it tastes edible, but not as good as yours.”

She saw him give her a smug smile and her instinct was to wipe it off his face with a kiss.

“The answer is July 16th, by the way.”

Aelin looked at him not understanding his statement.

“My birthday? You asked me earlier on.”

That she did “That’s two months away.”

“And when it’s yours?”

“May 3rd.”

“Aelin, that’s in two days.” He added sadly “and it sucks I can’t be there.”

“Lys has planned to drag me out with the girls of the firehouse. It’s also her bachelorette party. I have to go.”

“I almost forgot they were getting married. That came around quickly.”

Aelin laughed “not when you have been around them for years.” Aelin placed her food in a plate and moved to the sofa, taking her phone with her.

“When is the wedding?”

“This weekend. The weather is meant to be gorgeous which is a good thing since they are getting married outdoors.”

She heard him sigh “I really, really wish I could be there with you.”

She did not add that she had been thinking the same. So she just took a bite of her food.

“Edible?”

“Fuck no,”Aelin spit the morsel back in the plate “I must have done something wrong with the spices. It tastes horrible.” She grabbed her house phone.

“What are you doing?”

“Clearly ordering in. I am not eating this.”

Rowan rolled his eyes “you should practice more.”

“Why bother? I am clearly not cut for cooking. I am hopeless.”

“Do I need to tell you the amount of times my food sucked when I was still learning to cook decently? I got better with trial and error.”

Aelin huffed “fine I’ll try again on my next day off.” Then she put her house phone down after placing the order “I thought you were going for a shower?”

“Eager to get rid of me?”

“No, I just was hoping to have a peek at that nice arse of yours.”

Rowan laughed “If you behave.”

“Do you have the quarters all for yourself?”

Rowan nodded in the screen “the perks of rank. Gav is sharing with Vaughan. The twins are on their own.”

“Is that wise?”

“This carrier has a nice number of female officers. No one wants to go anywhere near that room.”

“Remember I am jealous, Whitethorn.”

“Some of them are middies on their snot cruise, so very young. The others… still not interested.”

“Who is a middie?”

“It’s short for midshipman or woman. They are the lowest ranking officers in the navy, just above the cadets. And a snot cruise is their first time out at sea on a proper mission.”

“Are your students middies as well?” She loved asking all those questions that might have sounded silly to him, but he never made her feel stupid for asking. He was always happy to answer.

“No, my students are called pilot officers. Then they become Flying officers, then flight lieutenants which is what the twins are, then Vaughan is our squadron leader, Gav is the Wing commander and then you have me.”

“Sounds so complicated.” She definitely needed to do more research to understand his job a bit better.

“It’s like you guys. Aedion looks after one rig as a lieutenant, you are the captain and are in charge of the operations of both at the same time and Dorian will be in charge of all the engines in case multiples houses are involved. Am I correct?”

Aelin nodded impressed.

“Same for us. Vaughan looks after our small squadron, Gav two or three squadrons, which is called a wing. I look after a unit composed of different wings and then Lorcan plays god in the CIC.”

“Now it makes more sense. So I could be your wing commander.”

“Having you fly with us would be insane. We would not concentrate on the enemy.”

Aelin laughed, then the buzzer of the door went off “just a sec, buzzard, food is here.” She went to get her food and plopped back on the sofa resuming her call with Rowan.

“Is your ship nice?”

“I served on her before. Not as swanky as the new one, but she is decent enough.” Rowan sat back up “hey, I really need to take that shower and then it’s chow time. If I miss it I don’t eat until tomorrow morning.”

“Go. Sorry for keeping you.”

“You did not such things. I have been looking forward to call you.”

“I love you.” She told him, sending back the tears that had started forming.

“I love you too, Fireheart.”

Aelin waved him goodbye and went back eating while tears had begun flowing down her cheeks. It had only been two days and she hoped it would get easier being so far apart.

***

The next morning she arrived at the station bright and early, got changed and went straight to Aedion “Are you ready?”

The man nodded “Peter is covering you until we get back from the police and I got Manon in charge of the second rig.”

“Good. Let’s go.”

They arrived at the police headquarters not long after and Chaol met them at the reception area “Hi guys,”

“Here’s my favourite cop.” Aelin went to hug Chaol.

“Just because I keep reporters away from you.”

She gave him a huge smile back.

“Come, detective Ytger is waiting for you.” They followed behind him in silence and stopped in front of a door and knocked.

A female voice told them to go in and once in the office Aelin recognised the same woman at one of the arson cases a few months back.

“Captain, Lieutenant, we meet again.” The three shook hands and the detective sat back down and invited both cousins to do the same.

The detective threw a thick file on the desk “you two have just made a very powerful enemy.”

“The man is a bastard.”

“Believe me, captain, when I tell you that Hamel has been a thorn in my side for a very long time.”

“And why is he still at large? Two people died and the man did not care.”

The woman pinched the bridge of her nose “he has very powerful lawyers and always gets away with murder. We have been working on him for a long time but whatever piece of proof we bring in is never enough to get him behind bars for good.” Aelin could sense the tiredness in her voice.

“Did you close his club as I asked?”

“We did, but he owns almost all the ones in Orynth. And so much more.”

“Can’t you arrest him for murder?” voiced Aedion.

“No, his lawyers showed us the papers of the latest inspections and the place was deemed to code. He blamed the company that did the inspections for lying to him.”

“Detective, I hope you are aware that is a bullshit.” Said Aedion, fury burning under his surface.

“I am well aware.” The woman added almost apologetically “the closure is temporary. It will not stick too long.”

Aelin almost swore “Have the other clubs been checked?”

“We did some undercover recon but we don’t have the full skillset to know what’s up to code.”

Aelin smiled wickedly “well, it’s a good thing that you have a firefighter whose birthday is very soon and was planning to go to a club.”

“You are not dragging Lys and the others in this.”

“Calm down. Hamel does not know them, they are safe. I will wear a disguise.”

“I don’t like the sound of this.” He protested again but he knew Aelin could be stubborn.

“I am coming too.”

“No,” said Aelin “One: Hamel remembers how you lifted him up and he will not forget such act. Two: it’s Lys bachelorette party as well. So, no.” she paused “you can take the guys to another one.”

“What happens if we find both clubs not up to specs?” Asked Aelin worried that it was going to be a lost cause.

“We can start by closing them and gather a bit more time to have more material against him. We have other leads. We just need something significant.”

They discussed with the detective which clubs to hit and they left.

Once in the car Aedion made his displeasure quite clear “I do not like this.”

“Neither do I, but the police has no idea what to look for.” Replied Aelin.

“We are not cops.”

“And they are not firefighters.”

After that they drove in silence all the way back to the station.

***

Two days had passed and Aelin’s birthday had arrived. She arrived at the station and laughed at the scene. One of the rigs was covered in balloons and a sign saying happy birthday, cap and the second rig was for Aedion and Lysandra and the front of the truck had a long white sheet over it that looked like a bridal veil and two massive papier mache rings attached to the front.

She laughed and joined Ansel and Manon who were doing some checks “did everyone see this?” She pointed at the engine and truck. The two women nodded.

“Then let’s clear it. I do not want to go on a call in that state.”

“Yes, captain.” Said the two women in unison. 

The locker room was empty and she sat down on the bench and looked at her phone again. She was hoping for a text from Rowan or a call but nothing yet. She kept telling herself that he was busy and probably out flying. She removed his dog tags and hung them in the locker and stood and stared at the pictures she had hung up. It was some of the photos they had taken in Doranelle. With her finger she brushed a photo of him. He was standing and looking up to the sky. His eyes closed and a small smile painted on his face and his hair all tousled after she had messed it up. It was one of her favourite photos of him. “Be safe, please.” And she blew him a kiss.

Aelin got dressed and then reached the team who was having breakfast in the communal room.

“She is here.” Shouted Nox happily.

Luca grabbed her arm and pulled to the table where a cake was waiting for her.

“Chocolate hazelnut cake. Your favourite.” He cut a slice and offered it to her.

Aelin grabbed it eagerly “mmmmm”

“Get a room you two,” shouted Ress.

A moment later Manon came through with a man carrying a large box “he says this is for you, captain.”

“Thanks, Manon.”

Aelin grabbed the box from the courier and sat down on the sofa. It came from a shop in Orynth. Strange. She opened the box and when she peeked inside she saw a massive stuffed toy. Once she lifted it she realised it was a bird and she had a feeling she knew who it was from.

“A bird? Why a bird?” Asked Lysandra.

Aelin smiled, grabbed the stuffed toy and walked to her bunk to be alone when she noticed the letter inside.

Once alone she sat down on her bed and placed the bird at her side and read the letter

Happy birthday, fireheart.

I wish I could be there for you but I can’t and it hurts more than I thought possible.

If you are reading this, you have met your new friend. I could not find a buzzard but a toy shop in Orynth had a white-tailed hawk and since I have silver hair I thought it was the closest option. Do we look similar? He will keep you company while I can’t be there with you.

I will try and call you tomorrow if I get a free moment, but the guys and I have pulled alert crew duty for the day so no phone for me.

Have fun with the girls and leave the other guys alone especially if they are navy and army.  Aelin chuckled at the joke

I miss you already.

I love you. Madly. 

To whatever end.

Yours, 

Buzzard.

By the time she had finished reading the letter she was in tears. She hugged the soft toy and for a moment she hoped to smell his scent of pine and snow. She went to her locker, grabbed the dog tags and put them around the bird’s neck “you look after them while I am on shift, but then I take them back.” After that she took a photo and sent it to Rowan “I think I will call him Rowan.”

**

It was later that night and Lysandra and Elide were at Aelin’s place to get ready for their fun night. Aelin though, was not in the mood. Rowan had eventually called her but the phone call was cut short when he had go and scramble. Soft toy Rowan was on her bed, his dog tags back on since she would not be wearing them with her dress.

Lysandra was going through her wardrobe looking for a dress for the night.

“So, the captain does have clothes that are not uniform,” said the woman going through his clothes but Aelin glared at her and Lys went back to Aelin’s side of the dresser.

“Did he phone you?”

“Yeah.” Said Aelin flatly while wearing her dress.

“Lorcan said they were having a couple of shitty days.”

Aelin ignored her friend or she would end up in tears and ruin her make up.

“Did he give you his dog tags?” Asked Lys noting them pending from the bird’s neck.

“No, he can’t. He made a copy. And I don’t want the original ones until he retires.”

“Why?” Asked Elide while she was busy fixing her hair.

“Because it means he is dead. They are used for identification.” Replied Lysandra flatly. She had learned that from Aedion.

“Can we please change subject?” Snapped Aelin.

Lysandra grabbed a green dress “what do you think?”

“It will go perfectly with your eyes.” Said Aelin wearing her blue dress.

“I thought you loved the captain.” Said Elide.

“Uh?”

“That dress?” Added Lys pointing at her attire “it makes you look as if you are open to being chased.”

“Too slutty?”

“Ansel will be proud of you.”

Aelin smiled “I do love the captain and I have no plans on taking anyone home. My only companion in bed tonight will be bird Rowan.” Then she wore a wig of red hair.

“Why the wig?”

Aelin and Aedion had decided not to tell anyone about their plan for the night, so she had to lie although it hurt lying to Lysandra “just for some fun.”

They arrived at the club half an hour later and Manon, Asterin and Ansel were already there and apparently already having fun.

“You made it” shouted the red-haired woman. “And who is the hot red-haired friend?”

“It’s me, Ansel.”

“Captain, you look hot.”

Aelin laughed “thank you.”

“We got some drinks already,” said Manon.

“Happy birthday, captain,” said Asterin raising her glass “and congratulation to Lys for bagging the meanest lieutenant in the TFD.”

Their glasses clinked and then Aelin spotted Chaol in the distance. What the heck was he doing at the club? She nodded at him and he gave her a small nod back. Everyone knew Chaol and if the girls spotted him it could raise some questions so she texted him with the pretence of being the overbearing girlfriend checking on her man.

The girls went out dancing and she stood behind saying she was not in the mood when she was actually trying to check out the place. She was about to join Chaol in his hideout when a guy stopped at her side and blocked her way “aren’t you a stunning creature?” He said and Aelin cringed. She really hated clubs and the pigs that came with them.

“Of course I am.”

She felt his arm sneak around her waist and his body move closer to hers and she closed her eyes at the fact that those arms were not Rowan’s.

“What if I buy you a few drink and have some fun you and I?”

“You couldn’t handle me.” She said to him in a whisper.

“I love a good challenge. My flat is not far from here.” And his hand slithered up on her back.

Aelin scoffed “I’d never have sex with you even if we were the last two humans left in the world.”

She made to walk away but he grabbed her arm. She almost punched him but in that instant she felt someone hugging her from behind “it’s me, follow my lead.” He whispered in her ear and she noticed it was Chaol.

“Thank you for finding my girlfriend. I went to the gents and I lost her.”

“Sorry darling,” said Aelin caressing Chaol’s face.

The stranger walked away annoyed.

“Thank you.”

“You were holding your own anyway.” He commented.

“I was about to punch him and cause a scene and mess up the mission.” She whispered then grabbed his hand and pulled him to a quiet booth at the back of the club

“What are you doing here?”

“Detective Ytger sent me here as back up. Hamel’s minions know all of the detectives but not us beat cops.”

“How do you want to proceed?” She asked him.

“You are the firefighter, I am just here to make sure you get out okay.”

“Ok, I need to walk around. Just keep an eye on me.” Chaol nodded and Aelin walked away.

She went back to the bar area and smiled when Elide walked toward her “Ace!! Come on it’s your birthday, you need to come and have fun.” She also had a job to do but felt bad at abandoning her friends. So she joined them again and Lys grabbed her for some dancing.

“How how many hearts did you break?”

“Just the one but he was a pig.”

“Did you tell him you have a super hot captain waiting for you?” 

Aelin shrugged and turned to Elide.

“How many drinks did Ansel give you?”

Elide lifted three fingers in front of her face “two.”

Aelin laughed “no more alcohol for you.”

“Buuut I am sad and I miss Lorcan.” Aelin hugged her friend knowing full well how she felt.

“Still, no more alcohol, you just can’t hold it.”

She walked Elide to Manon “can you keep an eye on her please? And just water please. Elide has reached her alcohol quota for the evening.”

“Of course.”

Aelin smiled at the white-haired woman. She was very introverted and of a very few words but she did not care about that since she was good at her job. She was the complete opposite of Ansel.

Speaking of the woman…”where did Ansel go?”

“Last time I have seen her she was dancing with a brunette.” Aelin dragged a hand on her face “I am going to the ladies. Just behave, okay?”

She used the excuse to slip away and walk around as she was supposed to do. She wanted to try and take some photo as proof but covert operations were not her forte.

“You are back,” whispered Chaol at her back.

“I’ll pretend to be drunk and lost.”

“Be careful, this is making me nervous.”

She nodded and walked away from him. Part of her was glad she had not mentioned this to Rowan, he would have gone in full protective mode.

She kept pretending she was drunk and dumb and ended up in the kitchen “sorry,” she slurred, leaning against the doorframe “are these the loos?”

“No miss,” said one of the staff “they are down there and on your right.” She gave the man a goofy smile and a wet kiss on the cheek “thank you, sweet man.” The hug had given her the time to have a very quick look in the kitchen and note there was no safety equipment. That was enough for her to shut down that club as well. How could they run a kitchen that way? She really had to take down the bastard. She hid in the shadows of the club and and checked the fire doors without activating them and found them of shoddy quality. She was fuming. She had a good look at the club and realised even the numbers of people allowed in was probably over the limit. Those doors were for 60 people, she could only see three on ground level, which meant a limit of 180 people. There were probably over three hundred, all crammed and spread on two levels. It was a firefighter nightmare. She ran back to Chaol “go home. I have seen enough. Tell the detective this place needs to be shut down as well.”

“I’ll phone her as soon as I am out. She was waiting for news anyway.”

“Go, and say hi to Yrene.”

Chaol left and she ran back to her friends nervous that she was placing them in danger. She wanted to go but the idea of leaving all those people behind made her nervous. She texted Aedion and rage surged back when he told her that their club was the same.

The girls took her dancing in the middle of the dance floor and danced away ignoring a couple of guys basically dancing on her. She hated clubs so much and the music was horrible. She bit down her annoyance and went to hug Lysandra “how does it feel to be almost married?”

“Weird.” She looked at Aelin “are you having fun?”

“You know I don’t like clubs but I came for you, it’s your night after all.”

“It’s your birthday too.”

Aelin shook her head “I get one every year, you better marry my cousin and stick to him.”

“And you stick to the captain. I want to come to your wedding.”

Aelin laughed “we’ll see…” then she turned and saw Elide leaning against the counter half asleep “what if we take the party to my place? I am sick of this place.”

“Please,” said Manon in a hopeful tone. She hated clubs as well “we can get alcohol on the way home. If I hear another man asking me why my hair is white I am going to start snapping necks.”

“Hey Manon, no need to snap necks,” then Aelin looked around for Ansel.

“I’ll get her,”said Asterin when she noticed the woman in the distance.

The woman came back with Ansel in tow and moved closer to Aelin “the fire exits are not enough and one is blocked.” She whispered.

“I know, I am going to call Peter and explain the situation to him.” She took her phone out “take the others to the cars. I’ll be there in a moment.”

Aelin watched Asterin walking the group to safety then hid in dark a corner and phoned Peter explaining that they had to pretend they had an anonymous call and come and pay a visit to the place and shut it down. The man agreed after she explained him the situation in terms of safety. She was playing dirty but could not care less. People’s lives were at stake. Hamel could just go and impale himself for all she cared.

Quickly she left the building and she went to her car joining Lys and Elide. The remaining women were in Manon’s car.

They stopped for booze on the way and finally got back home. Aelin took Elide piggyback style as the woman had fallen asleep. Once in the flat she placed Elide in the spare bedroom and covered her with a blanket then went back to the rest of the group camped in her living room. A text from Peter told her that the club had been safely evacuated and closed. Apparently he had found even more infractions that she had not the time to spot. 

“Ok, ladies back to the party.” Aelin grabbed a mixed selection of glasses and mugs for the beer.

Ansel stood and went to use the bathroom and came back a few minutes later “why do you have guy’s stuff on the bathroom shelf? Do you live with the silver fox?”

Aelin sighed “Rowan has been living here since I was discharged from the hospital.”

“That was a while ago.”

“I know.” Aelin sighed.

“Yes!” Shouted Ansel pulling Aelin toward her “our captain is shacking up. I am so proud of you.”

After a few drinks, Ansel would become very friendly with anyone. It was a good thing they had left the club.

In that instant she got a text from Aedion saying that he had activated the fire alarm in their club and evacuated the whole place after he had spotted a shit ton of infractions. Well, that was probably another club down. Definitely not what they had agreed with the detective but they had to do something.

“Ok, since this is a bachelorette party as well, we can have a bit of spiciness.” Said Asterin while drinking her beer “unusual place where you had sex. We need to give Lys some ideas.”

“Do we?” Joked Aelin “Lys would definitely teach us something.” Then everyone looked at Ansel “after her of course.”

“I once hooked up with civilian pilot and we did it in his cockpit before he got to fly the plane”

“Where you flying as well?” Asked Lysandra curious.

Ansel nodded “it’s a long story.”

“Aelin, you are up. I bet the captain is wild.” Lysandra’s eyebrows lifted suggestively.

“He is pretty amazing but the strangest places have been a beach, the sea, behind a waterfall, a pool at the foot of two different waterfalls and almost on a military ship.”

“Almost?” Asked Manon curious.

“I’ll show you the dress.”

Aelin went to get her black dress and got back a moment later “and he knew I had nothing underneath.”

The group of women cheered loudly “that must have driven him insane.” Joked Asterin.

“That’s why the almost. We would have been in a lot of trouble if we got caught.”

“I have nothing left to teach you.”Ansel was sprawled on a chair and lifted her beer in acknowledgment.

“Lys?”

The woman blushed savagely “in a car wash. Aedion and I stayed in the car while it was getting washed and… well.. it was quick but fun.”

“Definitely nothing to teach you,” Aelin clinked her bottle with her friend.

“Asterin?”

“My previous firehouse, with one of my colleagues on top of a rig on a night shift.”

Manon gave a light chuckle “was it when you were at the Regional 2?”

Asterin nodded “he was some hot firefighter. We are still friends. We did it once and then it felt so weird and never happened again.” She explained.

Aelin sighed “The night of the mayor’s party, Thomas and I hooked up. We ended up at my place. We did it, realised it was rebound sex and finished the night with tv and junk food.” Thinking about him still pained her.

“No friggin way. More than the kiss?” Asked Lysandra shocked.

Aelin nodded “after you saw us kissing I left, he found me, we went back to my place.”

Aelin looked around and noticed that no one wanted to make too many comments, his death was still too fresh for everyone and he had been Manon’s and Asterin’s captain.

“Does Rowan know?”

“I told him and he is fine. We were nothing at the time and I was mad at him.”

In that instant Elide joined the group and Aelin stood and went to her “hey, how are you feeling?”

“My head hurts.” Replied the woman leaning against Aelin.

“I should take her home. We are working tomorrow we should all go home.”

“Lys is right,” added Asterin “another 24hrs shift ahead, we need some sleep.”

Manon and Asterin offered to take Ansel home and Aelin remained with Lys and a sleepy Elide.

“I am sorry the evening sucked.”

“Hey,” Lysandra placed her hands on Aelin’s shoulders “it didn’t, and to be honest we were all quite tired. All it matters is to marry that annoying cousin of yours.”

“Take Elide home, she is about to go to sleep again.”

Once Aelin was alone she finally shed the dress and opened one of Rowan’s drawers and grabbed a t-shirt. They were usually far too big for her but she loved them as pyjama. She went to the bathroom, got ready and then finally got in bed with bird Rowan and squeezed close to his pillow to inhale his scent.

She grabbed her phone and found a text from Rowan

I hope you had a nice evening. I wish I had been there with you because it’s bad out here. I hope bird me is keeping you company. Have a nice night, Fireheart. Love you.

Aelin’s heart sank at the anguish in his voice. She tried to call him but had no answer.

I love you, come back to me, was all she managed.

She squeezed bird Rowan and tried very hard to fall asleep.

TAGS:

@rowaelinismyotp​

@jlinez​

@swankii-art-teacher​

@courtofjurdan​

@whimsicallyreading​

@tillyrubes10​

@surielandiareendgame​

@aelin-bitch-queen​

@bruiseonthefaceofhumanity 

#rowan whitethorn #rowaelin #rowan x aelin #aelin galathynius #Lysandra #elide lochan #Throne of Glass series #fanfic

[darling-i-read-it]

Letters

Hannibal Lecter x reader x Will Graham 

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: little bit of angst 

Author’s Note: This idea had been floating around my mind for a while and I LOVE how it turned out. I hope you all enjoy it as well :) 

Summary: An AU where you break Hannibal out while Will lives with Molly and run to Florence with him. 

Genre: fluff, angst 

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director 

(not my gif)

You walked into the main room. The balcony doors were wide open, revealing the gorgeous view that was Florence. Hannibal leaned against the doorframe, a letter in his hands. He seemed to be enthralled with it. He hadn’t even looked up at you when you walked inside, like he typically did. 

You saw on the desk was the envelope that he had just opened. Beside it, a letter opener. A fancy one too. You wrapped your robe around you and crossed your arms after picking it up. On the back, in carfell letters, was Hannibal’s name just beside yours. It was addressed to Hannibal and Y/N Lecter. That was not your legal name. It wasn’t even the name you were going by in Florence. You had to go by a different name. 

But you knew who had written it. You didn’t even need to look at the name. 

Molly Graham had written this letter.

You had only met her once in your life and it was in passing. You didn’t like her. It was likely solely because your feelings for Will were so intense. When you found out she was marrying Will you couldn’t go and see her or anything because Hannibal was in jail and you were still out of the way. You hadn’t been convicted of any murders but you were still associated with him.

Will you and Hannibal had been the dream team, for lack of a better word. You had never loved someone as much as you loved those two men. Up until Hannibal’s incarceration you had been inseparable from Will. You thought those feelings were mutual and then he moved away and married Molly.

You ran into her at the supermarket once. You had seeked her out. She didn’t know who you were past the fact that you helped her find some brand of cookies Will wanted. 

Not long after that you broke Hannibal out and fled to Florence. It was stupid, returning to the same place twice but he insisted. He thought that when Will wanted to find you he could only find you there. You didn’t blame him because a piece of you also wanted Will to find you. You missed him every day.

You walked up to Hannibal. He was wearing a sweater which was noticeably uncommon for him. He looked cozy. You put your hand on his arm and he handed you the letter and you took it wordlessly. You sat down on top of the desk and started to read.

Dear Y/N and Hannibal, 

I’m unsure how to start this letter. Until very recently I did not know either of you existed beyond the fact you used to work with my husband, Will Graham. Upon the incident of Hannibal breaking out I had to follow him to the FBI quarters where I was quickly filled in with the details of what Will had never told me. 

From the stories I hear, he has never been the same since the two of you. I used to think that was a good thing. What I understood was that he had gotten better since being by my side but I keep seeing the looks from his old friends and it’s worse isn’t it? He’s gotten worse. He still watches the dogs and cares for people too much but he isn’t himself. He hasn’t been for some time.

He tells people he doesn’t want to find either of you. I happen to know that that is wrong. If this letter has reached you it’s because I sent it to the address circled three times in his notes. 

I wanted to tell you nothing more than he loves you more than he’s ever loved anyone. I should know.

Respectfully, 

Molly. 

You put the letter down on the desk and took a deep breath. He looked over at you. You thought about Will, wondered about him. 

“I miss him,” you admitted. Hannibal nodded. He missed Will to. “I have you and you have me but he doesn’t have anyone.”

“He has Molly.”

“That’s different and you know it,” you said. Hannibal walked over to you and hugged you tightly. It wasn’t a hug for you, it was a hug that he needed. Hannibal had never been able to keep his guard down about anyone but he had always been able to do it with you. You and Will Graham. “We can’t move. He has to know where to find us.”

“That’s why we’re still here.” 

“And if it’s Jack Crawford that finds us first? Alana Bloom? Margot Verger? Anyone but Will?” Hannibal took a deep breath and his lips rested upon your head. He took a gentle breath in.

“It’s a risk we’re going to have to take.” 

You hugged him tightly and then moved away. 

“I’m going to get dressed.”

“I’m going to make dinner,” he said. You nodded and went to get changed. You slipped on a nice dress as your mind wandered, once again, to Will. You wondered what he could tell Molly about you, if anything. Everything she knew was probably whispered to her from Alana and Jack and Frederick Chilton. 

You had just finished zipping your dress up when the doorbell rang. You hadn’t thought Hannibal had invited a colleague over but you wouldn’t hold it against him.

“I got it!” you called. You fixed your earring as you approached, opening the door without a second thought. You started your regular visitor smile until you noticed who it was. You hand dropped from your ear slowly. Your breath shallowed. 

Will stood in front of you. His hair had grown since you had seen him. The curls were unkept, like they had been when you first met. He was wearing a fancier outfit than you had thought of him wearing. His face seemed relaxed.

“Will?” you whispered. He wasn’t sure what to do. You moved forward and wrapped your arms around him tightly, holding onto him for dear life.

“Who is it?” Hannibal asked, walking into the main room with his apron still on. At the sight in front of him he almost dropped his spatula. It was hard to surprise Hannibal Lecter but if anyone could do it, it had to be Will Graham. You pulled away so that Hannibal could see him completely. “You’ve finally arrived,” he whispered. Will smiled.

“Took me long enough.”

#hannibal lecter x reader #will graham x reader #will graham imagines #hannibal lecter imagines #will graham x reader x hannibal lecter #hannibal lecter x reader x will graham #hannibal imagines

[moonlighttfoxx]

The girl with the golden eyes: Chapter Two

Summary: Steve is still trying to figure out his feelings and trying to put those weird insticts under control. 

Warnings: smut, jealous Steve, Bucky

A/N: It’s a little bit more descriptive. 

After what seemed like a century with Hydra, taking a break was exactly what you needed. Natasha had come in the right moment to save you from Hydra, but mostly from yourself and all these relentless thoughts of devastating guilt. And you couldn’t thank her enough. You were tired of being Hydra’s pet, you were tired of helping them in their sick cause and most of all, you were tired of being Brock’s pet, his little precious trophy.

You were also thankful to your new teammates. You expected them to be a little harsh on you and frankly, you wouldn’t blame them. If you were in their shoes, you wouldn’t trust a person who used to play for the enemy’s team as well. But they were nothing but kind, sweet and gentle with you. They were doing their best to make you feel comfortable and a part of their team. Almost all of them at least.

It’s been a couple of weeks since your first encounter with them. Now you were an honorable member not only of their compound, but of their regular movie nights, game nights and their lives in general. It was so simple, so cozy, so friendly. You’ve never felt so relaxed and peaceful in your life. And getting to know each one of them was truly a blessing. They were all incredible in their own unique way. You’ve grown closer to them – to some more than to others, but that’s just human nature, isn’t it? You can’t click the same with everyone.

Besides Natasha, who you had so much in common with – your childhood, your interests, your personalities (she was as much of a strong independent girl, who wanted to have fun as much as you were), over the past days you grew incredibly close to Bucky. You knew the reason: both of you were unfortunate enough to have spent a part of your lives in Hydra’s grasp. That was the first thing that brought you closer. You found yourself able to share memories and fears with him that you thought you’d never open up about to anyone. Then the Hydra talk eventually turned into a movie talk, a book talk, intimate thoughts and sex preferences conversations and absolutely everything you could think of.

You knew what this looked like on the outside and you were sure that everyone thought there was something going on between the two of you. But that definitely wasn’t the case. As good as you two got along on almost every level, you knew Bucky wasn’t the type of person you saw yourself with, not for something serious at least. Truth be told, you wouldn’t mind having him as a stress release buddy if it ever came to that – pure physical act, ending with multiple orgasms instead of feelings. He’d be a perfect fit for that, you were sure. And boy, did you need multiple orgasms…

You smiled at the thought while doing your morning ritual after getting out of bed. It was an early morning, so you thought you might go and do some sort of breakfast. Not that you could really cook, but scrambled eggs were one of the few things you could make.

Wearing only a grey t – shirt, a few sizes too big, almost reaching your knees (it was Bucky’s after all, after escaping from Hydra, you didn’t have a lot of personal belongings, so he was kind enough to offer you a few of his shirts after you mentioned how much you enjoyed sleeping in baggy shirts) and a pair of pink bikinis that were neatly hidden underneath Bucky’s shirt, you made your way to the kitchen through the quiet hallways, ready to start making the breakfast.

Steve was walking down the hallway, sleepily rubbing his eyes, when his supersoldier sense of smell was attacked by the delicious scent of something being cooked. Something that made his stomach growl. He took a deep breath inhaling it. It was something fried, maybe eggs. It had to be eggs mixed with something sweet. That was weird. Eggs and something sweet? He took one more deep breath. Lilacs. Fuck. That meant only one thing: Y/N was there. Probably she was the one cooking the deliciously smelling meal. Maybe he should come back later? It was way too early to deal with all the weird reactions of his body. NO. His body didn’t control him. NO. He was in charge. Hiding and avoiding her would definitely not solve the issue. He took one more deep breath for a totally different reason this time and stepped into the kitchen.

His eyes immediately found her. She had her back to him mixing some ingredients in a bowl. It was clear that she hadn’t heard him. She was completely oblivious to his presence in the room. She had her usual sleeping attire – a baggy t-shirt and nothing else. Nothing he could see anyway. Oh how much he hated that attire! He hated everything about it. The way it hugged her thighs and especially the way her pointy nipples were poking through the fabric. He couldn’t see them yet, but he had no doubt they were there just like every other morning. What happened to the good old bra, huh? Didn’t she own any? How inappropriate was that – walking around in a house full of men with her perky breasts completely braless! It was so fucking infuriating! For him at least.

Still standing at the door, he saw her reaching up into one of the cabinets. She couldn’t really rely on her height, when it came to reaching… well anything. She was short indeed. She stood up on her tip toes, obviously hoping for a better access, but the only thing she really enabled was Steve’s eyes access to her butt. He was wondering what she was hiding underneath those stupid baggy t – shirts. Well, it was a perfectly round, small, seemingly tight bum, just waiting for him to put his hands over it, squeezing it, spanking it, painting it red. Oh, he was sure he could cover it with only one of his big hands. He felt a familiar tug in his boxers. Damn it! Not again.  

‘Do you need any help with that?’ he asked huskily. Y/N jumped a little, startled. She turned around, facing him. Yep. There they were – those nipples, poking through her shirt. That certainly didn’t help his pants situation.

‘No… well, actually, yes. Could you, please?’ she smiled, her cheeks getting a little redder. Was she blushing?

Steve walked over to her. She didn’t move contrary to his expectations, which didn’t give him any other option, but to position himself right in front of her. Her pointy nipples almost touching his t-shirt covered upper abdomen. She was looking up at his face with those big golden eyes. Jesus. That image was certainly going to hunt him through yet another cold shower. The only thing he was praying for right then was for her not to move any closer… or else she could feel him… she could feel just how hard he was for her.

‘Uhm…’ he cleared his throat. ‘What is it the thing you need again?’

She seemed flushed for some reason. That’s when he felt it or to be more précised that’s when he smelled it. Smelled her. Lilacs and something even sweeter. He couldn’t tell what that smell was. He didn’t care what it was, but he couldn’t mistake the pheromones filling in the air around him, accessible only for a superhuman like him. She was turned on. She was wet, he was sure of it. Was that for him? Was she wet for him?

‘Pepper’ she whispered at first, but then continued more confidently. ‘I need pepper. Someone put it on the top shelf’

He reached out, careful not to touch her, grabbed the needed ingredient and locked his blue eyes on hers once again.

‘There’ he breathed.

‘Thanks’ she answered taking it slowly from him, not breaking the eye contact.

‘Good Lord, what’s that heavenly smell?’ Bucky’s voice interrupted their unofficial staring contest. Y/N jumped a little once again and moved away from Steve, turning her back on him and continuing with her cooking.  Steve also moved a few steps back and looked at Bucky. He could see his nostrils flaring. The winter soldier was breathing in the wide mixture of smells in the kitchen. He was a fellow supersoldier after all. Steve could see the realization hitting Bucky’s face and his eyes darkening seconds after that. Oh yeah, he had smelled her. Bucky knew. Now there was another smell, filling in the air around Steve: the smell of Bucky’s desire. He smirked and moved closer to where Steve and Y/N were. Moving past Steve he positioned himself next to her on her right and gently traced his metal fingers along her upper arm. Then whispered in her ear: ‘What’s that heavenly smell, Y/N?’

Steve knew what smell his best friend was referring to this time and it had nothing to do with breakfast. He was well aware of it. For some reason Bucky’s thoughts, Bucky’s desire, Bucky’s body close to Y/N’s, his fingers moving up and down her arm aggravated Steve, it drove him wild. All he wanted to do is tear Bucky away from her. A low growl threatened to escape from his mouth as if he had lost all control over his body, his instincts taking over his brains. But fortunately Y/N’s giggle was the thing that brought his focus on her and that was all he needed to stop the uncontrollable growl from escaping right on time, enabling him to quickly regain his control.

‘Scrambled eggs. They’re almost ready. I’m making extra anyway, so both of you can have a bite’ she answered.

‘Mmm… I would love to have a bite, doll…’ Bucky whispered, smirking. ‘Wouldn’t you love to have a bite, Steve?’

Bucky locked his eyes on Steve’s, still smirking.

‘Yeah. You have no idea, Buck’ Steve answered coldly.          

#steve rodgers x reader #steve rogers smut oc #steve rogers series #bucky barnes #jealous steve rogers

[writingletterstothefire]

yin and yang

A/N: this is for @tintinwrites, she didn’t ask me for it but i was struck with ~inspiration. it’s really bad and i wrote it in two hours because i can’t pace myself to save my life. anyway, hi caitlin here’s your Din/Max poly relationship but no smut bc i don’t have the energy sorry love you bye

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: mentions of sexual encounters, bad writing, Max Phillips existing

You didn’t know how you’d ended up in a relationship with the most serious man you’d ever met. Din Djarin was stoic, stern, and sexy as hell. He’d been a regular at your coffee shop for about a year before you’d worked up the nerve to leave your number on the cardboard cozy wrapped around his regular black coffee.

You didn’t know what he’d been doing coming to the shop you worked at when he suit cost more than a year’s rent in your shitty little apartment. Apparently, he was CEO to a very successful bounty company called The Mandalorians. His men were hired to seek out fugitives of the law, and they were paid a pretty penny to do it.

Needless to say, when you started seeing Din, he quickly became a sugar daddy of sorts. You didn’t ask him for anything, he was just...intuitive. He noticed when you needed money for groceries or rent, and he quietly slipped the money into your account. Six months into your relationship, he’d given you a platinum black card with no limit.

You had no idea how you’d gotten that lucky.

Now, what was even more confusing was how the two of you had become a thruple with the most frat boy of all frat boys. Max Phillips burst into your life when he hired Din’s company to track down his old college buddy Evan as a joke. The joke was that Evan didn’t know it was a joke. Neither did the bounty hunter assigned to catch him. You’d met Max when he was stopping by Din’s office with a payment, and it didn’t escape you how his eyes followed your form. You were in a cute little vintage dress with sunflowers all over it, and you knew you looked good in it. It drove Din crazy when you wore it, so you made sure to wear it as often as you could.

Even though you were in a committed relationship, you felt good knowing you could still catch a man’s eye. It was validating, in a way. So, you decided to be a little tease and give him a wink as you walked by.

What you certainly didn’t expect was for him to follow after you all the way to Din’s office. He’d started going off about how you were “such a pretty little thing”, and how you looked “way too model-esque to be working at a desk in a place like this”. That last one had gotten you to laugh.

“She doesn’t work here,” a gruff voice had interrupted. Din had appeared in the doorway of his office.

“Hi baby,” you smiled, leaning up to kiss him. His arms came around your waist.

“Is this guy bothering you?”

“No, it’s fine-”

“Listen, she winked at me-”

Din looked at Max briefly and then looked back at you. “You winked at him.”

It wasn’t a question. Din was aware that you liked to tease other men, and he didn’t have an issue with it. You’d discussed a threesome before, but the opportunity had never presented itself. Din raised an eyebrow at you, asking a silent question. Him?

You nodded sheepishly. He was cute. Very cute. And if he was down, he was the one you wanted.

Din looked up at Max, who was insanely confused by this whole exchange, and just said, “My office.”

The three of you shuffled in, Din sitting at his desk chair, you sitting at one of two chairs on the other side, and Max hovering by the door.

“Sit,” you and Din spoke at the same time. Din spoke gruffly, as if he was speaking to a frustrating employee, while you spoke sweetly, a smile on your face.

Max wasn’t sure if he should sit or not, but damn if your smile couldn’t get him to do anything you asked. So, he sat.

“Cyar'ika, would you like to explain or should I?” Din spoke, looking at you with his big brown eyes. Those eyes melted your heart every time he looked at you.

“You explain, please?” You blushed. You knew you couldn’t be embarrassed when you’d kickstarted this whole situation, but you couldn’t help but feel like a giggly schoolgirl at the prospect of what was to come, should Max agree. You watched as Din turned his attention to Max, silently sizing him up before speaking.

“She likes to flirt with men. She sets them up to flirt with her so that she can observe them and how they treat her. She’s been looking for a suitable candidate for sometime, and she’s decided on you.”

“A…suitable candidate? A candidate for what? To leave you?” Max had never been more confused. He’d stolen a lot of guys girlfriends, sure, but he’d never been interviewed to steal someone’s girl.

“Certainly not!” You exclaimed, as if you were horrified by the prospect.

“Then what-”

“Do you want to fuck me?” You said plainly, tired of dancing around the situation.

“Obviously,” Max looked at you like you were speaking another language. “You think I would’ve come into a room with you and Murder McGee over there if I didn’t?”

“Excellent! The only condition is that you share me with Murder McGee,” you grinned at Din. He rolled his eyes good naturedly.

“She’s asking if you’d like to have a threesome,” Din said, sounding as if he was exhausted. Honestly, he was more focused on you in that goddamn dress, and he just wanted to rip it off of you. The sooner he got you home, Max in tow or not, the sooner he could get you naked. He turned his impatient gaze onto Max, silently demanding an answer.

“Why the hell not,” Max smirked.

From that moment on, Max became a permanent fixture in your relationship with Din. He had the freedom to come and go as he pleased, and he was welcomed back with open arms.

Not that he often strayed. He talked a big talk, but you had him just as whipped as Din by the first night. The both of them were at your beck and call, each filling needs you hadn’t realized you had. Where Din was stoic, Max provided humor. Where Max was immature, Din was steady and strong, grounding you when you needed it.

That’s not to say you loved one more than the other, nor is it to say that either of them loved you more than the other. It was a surprisingly equal relationship, with each of you bringing out traits that helped to balance the other two.

Din and Max sometimes got on each other’s nerves, but it was never anything serious and it never lasted very long. It was more of a yin and yang. A push and a pull.

As in, Max wanted to push as many buttons as he possibly could, and Din had to pull him back.

For example, right now you were in the bathroom at the bar, and you had left your drink half full. Max was about to spit in it, knowing how gross you’d find it even though baby, we kiss every day and I’m literally inside of you every night why is this so gross to you—

But Din grabbed your drink before Max could do anything, and smacked him across the face for good measure.

“Did you just bitch slap Max?” You asked, sliding into the booth.

“He did, he’s so mean to me all the time. He abuses me when you’re not here,” Max gave you his best puppy eyes, sliding an arm around your waist.

You raised an eyebrow skeptically, then turned your attention to Din. “What was he doing?”

Max gasped indignantly, pulling back. “Why do you assume I was doing something-”

“He was going to spit in your drink again.”

This time your hand lightly smacked Max’s other cheek.

“Alright-” Max began.

“Nope, enough out of you. No blow job.” You crossed your arms.

“Baby-!”

“Nope.”

Max crossed his arms, pouting like a petulant child.

Din smirked, leaning over to kiss your cheek, and you smiled involuntarily, grabbing both of their hands.

You loved your boys, as much as they drove you up a wall sometimes. You’d never imagined feeling so loved before, but you were certainly glad you’d ended up here. They gave you everything you wanted, and you had more power over the two of them than you knew what to do with. It was intimidating, knowing these men would get on their knees for you in a heartbeat.

Now if only you could get Max to beg you for that blowjob.

#max phillips x reader #max phillips x you #max phillips #max phillips fanfiction #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin #din djarin fanfiction

[aggresivelyfriendly]

Tis the Damn Season

Chapter 6- Last Christmas

Hi all! Sorry she took forever- I edited all by myself, so be gentle!

Plans change. Tickets do too, it seems. Harry's beautiful hope, his gift, it came in handy.

Not in the right way, the intended way. Not because she came to him, ran around the world or even an unfamiliar city with him. Those were dreamy ideas, when she wound up spending all of fall semester in Holmes Chapel. Those daydreams shaded the hospital walls and funeral home with sunny possibilities.

Her father had a heart attack and her mother a breakdown. It was too late, when her mother noticed he'd been out with the dog for too long and the dog was inside whining.

"I knew, in my gut. Day dawned wrong. And then never ended." She'd cried. Her mother had cried in her arms in a reversal Emma felt was way beyond her maturity level.

That hadnt been over the phone. Over the phone had only been muffled sobbing and her dad's name, "John."

Emma didn't call him John, but she could forgive her mother. It was up to her mother's good friend Di to share the news: Emma had always looked up to Di, she'd had some tragic marriage in her youth, and then decided god damned men weren't for her.

At the moment, Emma was of a similar mind.

Emma assumed she'd have a similar life to Di, had planned for it actually. Di had her own house, a thriving career as a solicitor and no children. A life like that, of her own, was Emma's dearest wish before she wished to be able to say yes to Harry.

Now she just wished her dad was still around.

There were so many plans to make, a funeral to finance and a mother to support, to put back together.

It's a wonder Emma wasn't an outright romantic, the way her parents had been, lifelong sweethearts. They still had moon eyes for each other until the very end, could be found holding hands on the couch often. Emma had come home unexpectedly early last year and found her mother sitting on the kitchen counter with her father between her legs making out like teenagers.

It was a lot to live up to.

Emma supposed it was why she kept all her heart eyes and love life in the closet and saved it all up to spend once a year. Just like an old lady's Christmas budget.

This year, she didn't think it would be happening. Harry must have had some rich person thing going on with the ticket, because the minute she decided that rather than ask her mom to buy her a ticket to get home, for the funeral, instead use the one she  had from Harry, he'd called. There was clear excitement in his voice, hot on the heels of her phone call to the airlines. It was August. He was set to embark soon, she'd just got back to Amsterdam. He must have thought she was gonna sneak in a cheeky visit.

"You're coming?"

"What?" She was so disoriented. Coming where? What was going on? Her brain was muffled with plans her feelings kept stumbling over at the knees like a trip wire.

"To see me? I got a notification you used the ticket?"

Her brain was muddled, like an egg in a hot pan, what? How did he do that? "No, Harry, umm I'm not coming. I don't even know where you are right now." She barely knew where she was.

"Whose fault is that?" There was a tiny edge to his voice that would cut her if she could even notice. "You could have answered my calls."

"Harry," she sighed, she had been avoiding him a bit. Mostly because she had an evergreen memory of his disappointed face when she told him going on tour was too much, that she simply didn't have the time. She was glad she couldn't see his face when she said the next bit. His voice was buoyant with hope, she was about to pop that balloon. "I need the ticket to go somewhere else." She couldn't bear to say it, was biting her lip hard not to think it, the liquid memory brimming anyway.

"Yeah, ok. Well, Happy Christmas I guess. See you in four months, maybe." The bitterness in his voice was like an old lemon and she didn't even have time to sweeten it with truth when his phone clicked off.

That made her resentful. How could this truth be sweet in any way? It got worse over time, the resentment just nestled among her other griefs.

Then he wouldn't answer her calls. She supposed that was giving her a taste of her own medicine and it was a quick wash down her throat with no water after the other jagged pill life had just forced down her throat.

And it didn't get better. Though, she had to scoff at herself for even having a square of heart for Harry to break leftover.

Break it did though, when she heard he had a new girlfriend, a blonde, a model, a French blonde model.

Of course.

Emma couldn't help but stalk her instagram. His was useless, ill used, so when she'd finished a day of running the house she'd been a child in while taking care of her grieving mother, she'd torture herself some more and watch stories where the beautiful blonde played in a pool, or made jokes, or showed the big mirror over her bed.

That one hurt most. She'd never seen Harry's bed, nor he hers. The little devil voice inside her head whisper shouted that he much preferred the one he was in now, with the mirror and the model to the tiny inn room they'd spent all their overnights in.

She didn't hear from him, and she never called to explain herself either. What would she say? My life fell apart and I needed your ticket, but it hurt to much to say it out loud and you were to much of an asshole to let me say it.

Harry wasn't an asshole, not really, he was hurt. Emma was stunned she had that power, though she had admitted to herself there was more between them than mistletoe kisses and holiday fucks.

She'd admitted it was more to her.

He acted like it was more to him, unless this was just a bruised ego. She didn't like to think that. Harry had every reason to have a giant head, figuratively to go with the oversized cranium he actually sported, but he'd never shown it. He was cocky at times, just enough to be sexy. All of that was a veneer over a sweet vulnerability that made everybody want to be around him, protect him, love him.

Did she love him?

No, she didn't think so, but given more time, the potential was there, like a rock at the top of a hill, all it would take was a push.

Which, time on tour with him would have been. If she could have went. Which she couldn't. She wanted to explain all of this to him as soon as she has the chance- which she would in 6 hours.

Her promises to herself were that she would not cry and that she would accept his new relationship. His real relationship. Emma would not try to touch him, or kiss him, or confess her almost love to him.

He was probably in love himself, from her internet stalks, she was halfway there, with both of them. Harry edged it out by being perfect in person. Camille, that was frenchies name, could only be half as perfect as Emma made her in her head.

"Do I wear the sweater?" She asked her reflection. She'd had to become her best friend the last six months. Emma might have called her mom her best friend, just based on time spent together, if their relationship was reciprocal, but at this turn of the road, she was supporting her mom as she grieved and got back to herself. Emma could see glimmers. She had hope.

She however wasn't sure she had hope for herself. Was she really contemplating wearing the sweater Harry gave her last Christmas to his mother's Christmas party? How pathetic was that? She was rolling her eyes at herself. He'd had a big year, and he bought lots of gifts, probably for his new girl, so her thinking he'd remember felt narcissistic.

Plus, it was her favorite, which mostly had nothing to do with the fact it was from Harry.

Emma really didn't want to go, but Gemma was expecting her. And she really needed to see her, have her support. They'd been texting, a lot. Gemma had heard about her dad and reached out. It was the only emotionally connection Emma really had, those texts, and she needed to see Gemma, honestly. Even if it meant seeing Harry.

She might have wanted to see Harry.

To explain, and maybe just to see him. Make sure he was happy, feel his warmth, steal him back.

No, that was unlikely. See if he was happy and wish him well.

She wore the sweater.

The house was cozy when she arrived, like it always was and it thawed her heart enough for it to ache a bit. For something new. Her heart ached a fair bit off and on, then went numb. It was the only way she'd survived lately. Emma knew she was putting off really feeling her major loss.

It was a strange pleasure to mourn something as minor as heartbreak.

The hug from Gemma made the trip through the snow and down memory lane worth it. And the people all around her and their laughter were invigorating.

The alcohol helped as well. Their house was pretty dry but had been especially when she started to notice her mom was unconsciously developing a bottle a day habit. When it wasn't there she didn't mention it though, so Emma didn't buy it, except for special occasions.

She was merry, and felt held. Her hand was in Gemma's. She'd stayed away from the back bathroom and the kitchen, even come in the front door.

Emma felt like she was getting away with it.

Harry wasn't there, with girlfriend in tow or not. So all her pontificating about checking on him was all for naught, and she was getting all the crosses. She certainly felt like today was a plus.

Until she heard a tone of elation issue from Anne's happy voice that only motherly joy could produce.

Harry was here.

"Fuck!" Came out of her mouth, and Gemma looked at her sharply.

"What?"

"Nothing, guess I'm jumpy, your mum's shout made me spill." Emma thought she shouted an excuse me while she hurried up the stairs to hide, find a place farthest away from Harry and his happiness. He might be alone, but if he was glowing like a brand, the way he did when they holed up together only slightly dimmed by their parting, now because of it, from some other lover, Emma couldn't stand it.

Plus, she thought she'd heard another name connected to his over her own rated r exclamation.

She was coming out of the bathroom. Emma had suppressed her tears ruthlessly and her bottom lip might bruise from the brutal teeth marks she employed. She'd have given herself some words in the mirror, affirmations helped, but what was she gonna say. "You're happy for him."

She wasn't. She was happy with him.

"Fuck this." Emma decided the only course of action was a straight line to her parents house. her mother's house, she mentally corrected and gave herself a more legitimate reason to cry than over a boy. Even if that boy was Harry Styles.

Who she barely stopped herself from running into as she kept her head down and rounded the bannister to head down the stairs.

"Jesus! You gave me a fright!" She dramatized and kept a hand over her heart and her tear stained face down.

"Emma." His voice was flat, and not cold, but the warmth that snuggled around her name was absent and she shivered. "I wondered if you'd be here." Not Hoped, she noted. "What are you doing up here? Don't your usually use the back bathroom?" There was just a bit of heat in that statement, but it didn't warm, it burned. Was he being mean, that wasn't like him? "Nice sweater." Ok, definitely mean.

Her face came up with that thought, it shocked her out of the sense of control she was exercising.

He did look hard, mean, for a moment, but soft around the edges like a melting popsicle when he caught her face.

"Are you crying?" His hand came up and he stopped it mid air before it wiped away her tear.

Emma felt her body lean into him and another tear slipped out when his warm palm and always chilly finger tips touched her cheek.

God she'd missed him! While she was bolstering her mother, she'd needed support. He was supportive, or would have been. But he wasn't taking her calls, and she couldn't bring herself to text, "my dad died". Then, it was such old news, she figured he'd have heard from Gemma.

He took his hand away like she was a hot cooktop.

He pushed his hair back off his forehead with the hand probably damp with her tears and bravely changed the subject. "How long you in town for this time? Jetting off to some climate refuge hotspot soon?"

Emma flinched. Oh- he didn't know.

"Un, no, I'm living here." She didn't elaborate, maybe saying it out loud was as hard as texting it. "I was actually just about to head home to check on my mum. The back bathroom was in use, and the cold makes me need to pee." What the fuck was she talking about, he didn't need that information.

His dimple pressed in just a bit and he went to say something, but Emma just couldn't. She couldn't look at him anymore, or tell him about why she lived there, or about the ticket he seemed to have been hurt enough to move on over. She definitely didn't want to see evidence of his movement, especially not his upgrade. "Anyway, nice to see you," the words shot out of her mouth, impresonal and true. "Bye Harry."

"Wait Emma!" She thought she heard, but she just kept going. She'd tell Gemma she was sick.

She nearly was when she saw Harry's girlfriend hugging her closest friend in the living room.

"Oh god."

Luckily, when she got home, her mum was awake and feeling chatty, not blue. Emma focused on her and the special she was watching. Let the warm sound of her mother's once common laughter wrap around her as a blanket. It was more comforting than a cup of tea.

She waited until later to cry herself to sleep.

The next day was Christmas- the first without her father. She dried her rightful tears before she saw her mom, though she would have had all the standing in the world for them and she felt better about them than those she's shed the night before. She knew though that her wet face would cause a cascade event, the first drop in a waterfall, so she dried them up.

They had traditions to get through.

And get through they did. They each wrapped a gift for her father that they left under the tree and held each other right before tucking into a late brunch and preparing a boozy and sweet laden Christmas dinner, Emma contributed the puddings.

They were very much her mother's favorite, and she broke out a scandi recipe she'd enjoyed the last several years.

She Skyped her university friends, they exchanged the small gifts she'd mailed them and them her. She missed them something awful. She missed school horribly, so much she even emailed her advisor. All of her heart hoped to return after the winter break.

Emma thought the feeling of missing something was a bit like a paper cut and losing your keys combined.

Harry called late Christmas Day, just a few minutes shy of Boxing Day. That more than stung, it was a gut punch, or a knife plunge, though she'd never had either.

Emma ignored the call from Harry. What was there to say?

Boxing Day, well, Emma wasn't much of a drinker, but it was basically a tenet of British culture to get obliterated while watching the queen.

For the last several years, Emma had been off her face on Harry. This year she chose savingnon blanc with her mum. Two days, then they'd go back to a dry house. Tradition was tradition, and she couldn't think about the one she'd started and ached all over for.

What a pale imitation of ecstasy drunkenness was, though she supposed they both left a hangover, a residue.

Her bed, when she begged off to it early was warm and fragrant, but it smelled all wrong. No sandalwood or black coffee, not even the mint she'd come to associated with the comfort of love, or something like it.

It was worse, because when she closed her eyes, having seen Harry's someone in person, she could see him snugged up to her, so cozy. It was in their place, their room at the Boat's Head.

It was over, Boxing Day, when she puked.

She had another missed call from Harry. 11:59 Her personal witching hour.

The next day was a little bit better, either because she had her literal hangover to tend, or because she'd ripped the bandaid off her hurt and let the wound air.

"Hiya!" Gemma's voice and face were bright, unlike the gray day.

"Hello." Emma smiled and her voice held it, she held onto it. "You're merry!"

"Yeah, I'm at the pub. Everybody is at the pub," she flashed the phone around so Emma could see the waving swaying people, "we wanted to get you outta the house, you made such an effective Irish exit the other day you've let your people down, we need to see your smile. You feeling better?"

"Yes, thank you." Emma thought about it, there was a pull to the pub. "Um, maybe I can swing over."

It only took a few minutes to throw on jeans and a jumper, not her former favorite. The walk was a little longer.

When she found them, her first comment was "Im not drinking!" Over a grimace.

"Too much wine with old Elizabeth, huh? " Gemma Laughed

"Yes! Did you know my mum has a long pour?" Emma shared with a laugh.

"No, but mine's gotten more heavy on the booze with me lately, they must like the new stages. Daughters as actual friends and drinking partners. Mum is thrilled!" Gemma grinned.  "So am I! Harry's a little jealous."

Emma tried to catch her grimace before it stomped across her face. Gemma kept talking and she thought she'd got away with it.

"He wants to be one of the girl's! He came down last night and mum, Camille and I were sharing wine and mum was showing her atrocious pictures. You'd think he'd be mad or embarrassed! He was like, 'Where's my glass?'" Gemma was staring at her while she chuckled.

Emma had less success not responding. Her face was a picture she was sure, a jealous one. And then she heard herself asking, "what's she like?" She gulped down the g word she almost voiced. "Camille?"

Gemma made a funny face, then looked at her again. "Um, she's silly and kinda quiet and I think she's worried my mom will care she's posed nude."

She wouldn't. That wasn't Anne's style. And if she did have an issue, she'd never voice it. She was really big on respecting her kids choices. Even some of the stupider ones Harry had made.

Was she ranked among those now?

"Why do you ask?" The gentleness in a Gemma's voice told Emma she knew more than she was saying.

Emma couldn't explain, she was still in such a tender state, like a fissured piece of glass, she knew she couldn't go over it. "I just hope Harry's happy."  It was the only true thing she could say.

And Gemma, bless her just looped her arm through Emma's and said like she was holding a cracked egg. "He is." She left it at that, before she stood, pulling Emma after her. "And we need another drink." Apparently Emma was drinking, she needed it.

They spent another couple hours at the pub and Emma walked home through the soft snow. Her nose was stuffy, and her eyes were leaking, and she was drunk. Least she realized she must be, cuz she was crying. She really hated crying.

She was still weeping under her breath when she got home and found Harry on her doorstoop.

"You're still here?" She boggled. She assumed he'd taken his girlfriend to his big London home Emma had never been to, since she wasn't ever his g word.

"Yeah." He rubbed his hands over his corduroy flares. She'd consider what that might mean, but the pants distracted her. Those were new, must be getting fashion influences from new places, mew people. Those pants were roomy for him. He looked good in them. He looked good, happy.

"Did you need something?" Seeing himwas ripping her guts out and she could barely keep more tears at bay. Her insides were dangerously close to the skin now, tender and exposed. She hoped the distance between them and the weather and, well, maybe his rose colored glasses brought on by loving some other girl, he wouldn't notice her crying.

Over him. At the moment.

"No, I, um," he swallowed. "I thought we might talk." He made those green eyes at her and she hated it. Cuz they were soft and for someone else these days.

"I think we've said it all."

"We haven't said anything, not really, in a year."

"Yeah, well actions over words mate." Good, she was angry. She tried to go around him, into her door. Out of the cold and this situation.

"Emma, wait." He caught her shoulders and her blood froze in her veins but her tears were hot on her cheeks. "I'mso sorry about your dad." He choked up too.

She looked at him and let hurt run down her face, didn't even bother trying to stiffen her upper lip. When he opened his arms, she went to him and cried in a way she really hadn't let herself, into the comfort of his scent, the hurt of his presence.

Emma wasn't sure how long she cried, they wound up siting on the cold stone bench when their knocking knees froze.

"S that why you used the ticket?" He whispered against her hair sometime later.

She nodded. Sniffed up her tears and his pain laced smell.

"Why didn't you call me?"

She shrugged.

"I would have understood. And I would have come, to be with you."

Her tears apparently hadn't run out. She knew that, but she was hurt, by his hurt and his expectation.

She looked up at him. Her lips were so close to his, the outer edge that felt so plush and lovely.

That was a Liberty she didn't have. Maybe never a right she had, like him just expecting her to drop her goals to go to him.

"Where's your girlfriend?" She said the word like the four letters it felt like it was to her.

"Um," he stumbled over the subject change . "She was tired."

"You tell her you were coming to see a girl you used to fuck?"

"What?" He looked at her with a frown and Emma supposed she was being mean, mean but honest. "Don't say it like that. That's not what we were about."

Emma quirked a brow at him. "No?"

"Listen, why are you being like this?" He swallowed and looked like the wronged party when he was the one who assumed the worst of her, then abandoned her, moved on, and showed up, she could only assume, to rub it in her face.

The last year had been the worst of her life, and he'd been part of that. Mostly his absence.

Whoever's fault that was.

"Look, I don't need your pity or your condolences. Or your forgiveness. You just assumed I was taking advantage of you like you didn't know me at all. Which I realized is true apart from knowing what I look like naked, right? Let's be honest Harry? Huh, I'm just the girl you used to fuck over break. Your Christmas bit of fun. Til you found your next model. Who you couldn't wait to come home and show off, right in my face. So if we were more, you're a heartless asshole." She was crying over him now, but half the tears at least were angry and her face must be bright red.

The kicked puppy look on his face was so genuine and felt so false to her she could scream. "Why would I even think you would care if I had a girlfriend or not? If anybody was just the person the other thought of as a holiday fling, it was you about me, Emma."  He huffed, took down the finger he'd stood up to point at her. "I tried for more, asked for more?"

"When?" He'd asked for more, how'd she miss that?

"What'd you think the ticket was for? That was me asking you for more, at least more time?"

"I don't have extra time." She countered. Emma supposed that was some mealy mouthed passive way of saying you wanted to spend time with a person at least.

"And I do?" He yelled that before taking a big breath and muttering sorry. "Listen, I know what you're about, and that you are very serious saving the world, but I'm just as busy as you, more, and I would have made time for you."

"Why?" She stood up into his space. "So I could just miss you more, fall more for you and not get to have you in any real way? To torture myself?" And there is was. Emma knew the ache of the first weeks without him, and she'd always counted their brief time together as worth it. Subjecting herself to more just seemed masochistic. "Have more time with you so I have to get over you all over again multiple times a year."

"Who says you would have had to get over me? We could have been together!" Both of their voices had escalated past the bounds of polite disagreement.

"Together in every way except literally?" She threw her hands out at her sides. "What's the point of that?"

"The point?" He huffed. "The point is that I wanted you and you wanted me, and we could have had each other, but you're too busy," he sneered, "and couldn't talk to me."

"I couldn't talk to anyone!" She screamed. "I was supposed to text you that my dad died and I needed to use the ticket that was supposed to be a gift but was more like a curse, to take care of my mom. That my dream was at best on hold while I made sure my mum could get out of bed?" He looked a little slapped. "While you were off what? Being a rockstar? Having a record breaking year? Moving on? Out of spite?!" She didn't want to think that, but she'd wondered. She knew she was giving herself to much credit. "Why you made sure to bring her to Holmes Chapel? You take her to the Boar's Head too? Or just fuck her in your mum's powder room?" The words were explosive, the cadence like charges lighting off each other. Emma felt like a powder keg.

He was shaking his head. "Stop it. No, no, I didn't move on, not until I thought you were done with me."

"Oh, when I needed you and you wouldn't answer my calls?"

He looked at the ground then. When his eyes came up , the lovely green of them was even more vibrant, due to the tears crowding around their ages. "Emma, I'm so sorry about that. I'll never forgive myself."

His sincerity softened her, though the anger she'd wrapped around herself like a coat was all that was keeping her ribs together.

"I'm so sorry, I know the last year has been more than anybody should have to bear, especially alone." He took  a big breath. "But Camille, I didn't, it's not," he stumbled over the words like they were glass edges, but Emma had a feeling she was the one who was about to get cut. "Um, she and I just met and, well, we, we get on." That was a kind way to put it. "I wasn't looking for somebody else. But I was lonely and she's," the changes on his face ripped through Emma. "She's lovely. I brought her home, because I wanted mum to meet her." That told Emma everything.

"You love her?" She already knew the answer.

He ran his hand through his locks, avoided eye contact until the last second, "yeah, yeah, I think I might."

Emma was nodding, biting her lip to gatekeep the fresh round of tears threatening. "That's good Harry, I'm," she breathed, "I'm happy for you."

He looked at her then. "Really?"

"Course, I care about you, your happiness." That brought on the tears and he reached for her and she had to throw up her hands to keep him away. "No, no, please don't touch me."

His phone rang, he was the only person she knew who actually kept their ringer on. Well the only person under 50, it made her smile. Then cringe, the weird personal knowledge she had because of how much of an almost they were. From his face, Emma knew it was his actual calling.

"Um," he shady buttoned the call. "I have to go."

"Yeah," was all she could respond with, she already knew that. "Well, have a happy nee year Harry. You sticking around?" God she hoped not. May have to convince her mum to go to London if so.

He shook his head, "Um no, we're going to Paris." Ouch. Emma tried for subtle when she wrapped an arm around herself. "Sorry, I'd like," he always looked so genuine lately, in every interview she'd watched to hurt herself, his heart on his sleeve, in his eyes now. "I'd like to hug you, think you could stomach it?"

Emma nodded and went to him for the barest second and then concentrated on the pressure behind her eyes while he kept her close. "I'm so sorry Emma, for everything. I'd really like to be friends," he'd pulled back to hold her eye line at that.

She nodded, she wasn't sure how she'd handle that, but at best it was a couple phone calls, and no weekends away, they hadn't mentioned that in their middle state, she didn't think it would be to hard to keep him at arms length when they had continents between them most times. "Yeah, ok, friends. You take care of yourself, Harry." Emma was a strong girl, woman now, she could handle some texts and a phone call or so.

He kissed her cheek, a continental affectation she closed her eyes over and turned to go. He was almost out of the gate when he turned back. "I'd never take her to the Boar's Head, by the way, that's our place. I'd never take anybody else there." Before she could even think of a response he looked away quick and started to go. "Take care of yourself, Emma. Happy New Year." That came back to her on the wind.

Blew away like the hold she had on the heart she'd given him last Christmas. At least he was someone special.

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #tis the damn season #ttds #chapter 6 #last Christmas

[bbaronpiper]

Other side of him

I wrote another fluff/smut for you guys. it’s nothing much but I just wanted to post something out. Hope u like it thooo. some parts were @fullweaselbandithero​ ‘s idea. Thank you bb! <3

19. “God, you are so fucking cute.”

32. “No one has a romantic bone in their body anymore! What happened to playing songs outside windows, glitter and sparkles on handmade Valentine’s cards, dancing in the rain!? What happened?!”

gif not mine. credits to the owner

Arón x reader

Standing in front of the mirror, your hands run from the curves of your waist to your hips, you wore a simple black strappy straight neck bodycon dress, examining yourself, quite undecided weather to wear this or the one hanging on the side of the mirror.

“Which one do you like?” you asked your boyfriend who’s about to lose his shit, growing impatient. You can tell by the way his leg bounced up and down, looking at you sternly while you get dressed. He was supposed to pick you up at 7pm to attend his friend’s party. It was now 7:15pm and you haven’t decided what to wear yet.

“Arón?” waving at him holding the spare dress on your other hand.

He hummed. Confused look plastered across his face, not a single clue on what you calling him out for.

“This one?” you pointed on the one you’re already wearing. “or this one?” you waved the dress you were holding.

He didn’t answer. He just kept on looking at you with his chin on top of his fist and his elbow rests on his knee.

You laughed a little. What is up with this idiot. “Baby, if you don’t help me choose, by the time we get to the club, all your friends would be drunk as fuck”

He then stood up and walked closer to you. his gaze never leaving you. “Try this one. Let’s see what it would look like on you” he pointed to the dress hanging on your hand.

You let out a small “okay” as you turn around to face the mirror again, hanging up the spare dress just to take off the one you’re currently wearing. Your innocence never once questioned his reasons even the looks he was giving you until you grab the hem of your dress and pull it up over your head. Exposing your black lacy underwear. You then saw Arón from the reflection on the mirror, bit his lower lip trying to stop a smile.

“You little shit!” you exclaimed as it all hit you. The silence and the looks he was giving you had a reason. You turned back around to face him and threw the dress you just took off right on his face. He wanted you to try the other dress just so he can see you naked.

He burst out laughing now. Unable to control the laughter he’s been holding the second you grabbed the hem of your dress.

“hmm. I like this better” he was still laughing but the look on his eyes gave it away. Your boy is horny. Again. He walked closer to you and pulled you to him by the waist. You were pressed against his body now. You weren’t wearing a bra and you were lying if you say the feeling of your boobs touching directly against his shirt didn’t turn you on because it definitely did specially if you can feel his cold silver chain necklace hanging around his neck against your skin.

“Umm Piper, just in case you forgot, we have a party to attend” you cleared your throat. Getting nervous as the tension built up not that you didn’t want to fuck him. You do, but you’re also dying to get some alcohol down your system. You then pushed him off of you and proceed to wear the black dress you were wearing moments ago. You liked it anyways.

“Such a tease” he murmured while smirking.

“Horny avatar!” you spat back as you finished getting dress and put on your heels. You and Aron loved teasing each other, throwing comments and insults like little kids. You didn’t mind it since you both knew your limitations when it comes to the insults.

“Take that back Y/N!” he then slapped your ass and grabbed your hand as he led you out the door. You just gasped in return at the sudden feeling of his hand colliding on your ass.

“Really? You gotta touch a fine lady on her bumbum?” giving him a sad look that’s obviously fake. “No one has a romantic bone in their body anymore! What happened to playing songs outside windows, glitter and sparkles on handmade Valentine’s cards, dancing in the rain!? What happened?!” you continued to half rant.

Arón on the other hand, being Arón, he didn’t say a word he just chuckled. He slipped his hand on your back gliding up until your neck which by the way sent you chills all over your body, and stopped when he reached the side of your head, pushing it closer to him so he could give you a kiss on the side of your head.

“That’s all I get? Really, Arón?” Now, you really are sad. Not to sound clingy but you missed your man. You both quarantined away from each other but facetime everyday and once the quarantine is lifted, he starts going to clubs and beaches. Of course, he had asked you to come but you refused saying there’s still a virus and it isn’t safe. Arón on the other hand being the stubborn ass that he is, still went and you were never the type to restrict your boyfriend on things he wanted to do but now that he’s back, all you wanted is to spend time with him.

Just before you both reached the door, he stopped, leaned his head down to your level and gave you a kiss on the lips. It was one of his passionate kisses. He was never the one who gave little pecks. The man mastered the art of kissing like he’s making up for the time you weren’t together, a reminder that you’re his home and a promise that it’s you who he loves dearly. He pulled away smiling down on you while you smile back at him with cheeks blushing. You were so happy you skipped away to the door until the parking lot like a little school girl, his hand intertwined with yours. He laughed at the sight of this and shook his head. Probably regretting the fact that he’s dating a grown ass woman with a 10 year old child inside of her.

The second he starts to drive away, you zoomed out. You always loved car rides more than the destination itself. The feeling of sitting comfortable on the passenger’s seat while your boyfriend plays his jam and softly sing along to it gives you the happiest feeling. Not to mention your amusement every time you look out the window and enjoy the view; the streets, the people walking around and the sky. The smile you had on your face slowly disappeared as you heard Arón announced that you arrived to your destination.

You frown a little, confused. It didn’t look like a bar. You turned your head around to the driver’s seat only to see it empty. He was already walking around the car to open up the car door for you. damn this boy for making your heart flutter every time he gets the chance. You happily got out of the car and he immediately took your hand in his.

“Where are we? I thought you said-?

“Shush. You’ll see” he cut you off and shoot you a wink.  

He then led you inside the building into the elevator and pushed the button for the very top floor. Only to reveal this (see photo below)

photo not mine. got it from pinterest.

Your mouth hung open once you had a glimpse of it. On your mind, it was still his friend’s party you’re going to and not to this, leaving you confused. First of all, how can a fancy building have this garden set up in its rooftop, second, where is everybody? And lastly, Arón really did this for you? you love the boy dearly, and surely, he does love you as well but he was never the romantic type. Your dates are mostly just dinners or drinking at the bar or staying home for a long cozy night but never this.

“Close your mouth, baby I just saw a flying insect flew in.” he laughed while he touched your chin with his thumb. He then led you further and into one of the seat. “Sit” he demanded

“Asshole!” you muttered. Tears of joy starts to build up in your eyes. You felt like you were the luckiest woman ever. “You didn’t tell me you were setting me up with your friend for a romantic dinner” you joked.

He laughed loudly this time. “You’re crazy! Why would I give you away to somebody else. Huh?” He grabbed the remote on the nearby table and play the movie he chose the night before.

“So, no? Damn, I’ve been eyeing Marco for a while now” He quickly snapped his head back at you, glaring. The look on his face made you burst out laughing. It was a mix of shocked and jealousy. You can’t believe he bought what you said. “Gosh Arón, I was just kidding. I’m yours” And pecked him on the cheek which seemed to work since his facial expressions softened. “But really, No Marco tonight?”

He rolled his eyes at you “Not funny” and exhaled a little “hmpf” then pouted at you. Pouting men should be automatically kissed right? And so you did. He refused to return the kiss at first, cos you know people with Aries star signs are fucking stubborn but not for long as you tried to deepen the kiss by licking his lower lips and that’s when he finally gave in. He parted his lips slightly enough for you to insert your tongue in his mouth as his danced along with yours. His hand traveled down your thigh caressing it with his thumb. He was about to slide his hand inside your dress when you heard the elevator open and made you both pull away.

You watched as the waiters served your food along with your favorite wine. You both giggled at each other embarrassed that someone caught you during an intimate moment.

“Did you like it?” Arón asked you referring to his surprise.

“I loved it” you grin back at him “You rented the whole floor?”

“Yeah, so you wouldn’t whine about the virus. I can’t have you spraying alcohol at random people!” he said shaking his head before taking a bite on his food.

You spent the whole dinner talking about random stuff trying to catch up on each other’s lives these past few months. You love listening to Arón’s stories, your favorite part is when he’s telling you something funny and he couldn’t even finish the sentence ‘cos he’s laughing too much which cause you to laugh as well. The sound of his laughter completes your day, you love making him happy and he sure does make you happy as well.

“Did I tell you, you looked beautiful tonight?” he said while wiping the side of his mouth with a napkin. “god, you are so fucking cute.” He shot you a cheeky grin.

“Did I tell you, thank you for this” motioning around the place “and that I love you so much?” you challenged back.

“Yeah, you did. But I believed the word you used was ‘asshole’” He laughed to himself as he stood up and walked over to you side asking for your hand. “and I love you more”

“What, now?” you looked up at him, not sure what he wanted you to do.

He scrunched his face at you trying to suppress another laugh. “Y/N, has no one ever asked you to dance before?” this sassy ass will be the death of you. He wiggled his hand in front of you asking you to take it. you did. He led you to the middle of the floor, his hands on your hips and yours around his neck. You both swayed slowly, enjoying each other’s company while the cold air of the night softly blew into your skin. There’s no music playing, all you can hear is the sound of your breaths, your thumping hearts and the faint sound of the movie playing on the background. This was all new to you and it kept you wondering what has gotten into him to do something this special. You’ve been with Arón for more than a year now but you never seen this other side of him before.  

“What’s up with you? are you breaking up with me?” you blurted out of nowhere. His gestures tonight made you overthink. Is he doing this like a goodbye thing? Just to leave a good memory?

He looked down at you with eyebrows furrowed. “No, where did that come from?”

“uhh, nothin’.. it’s just.. you’ve never done something like this before. It makes me wonder” you shrugged. Your arms tightened around his neck afraid he’ll slip away.

“Exactly. That’s why I’m doing this” He gave you a reassuring smile. “’’cos I’ve never done it before.” He caress your cheek with the back of his fingers, staring deep into your eyes. “I feel like I haven’t done enough for you yet.”  He brushed the tip of his nose on your forehead first before placing a kiss on it.

Your heart was beating so fast and hard you feel like Arón can feel it through his chest too. Butterflies in your stomach are too much for you to handle. This man makes you feel so much emotions to the point that your knees get so weak and you suddenly forgot how to breathe. You stared into each other’s eyes for a while before you tip toed and reach for his lips, giving his pouty ones a kiss it deserved.

Arón pulled away after a while just to press his face at the side of your head and whispered “Let me show you how much I love you” before kissing your exposed neck, his fingers played with the strap of your dress while waiting for your answer. This simple gesture was enough to make you wet.

It took him a soft nod from you to pull down the strap from your shoulders and kissed the skin below it. your hand gripped tightly at the back of his neck as he lightly sucked the skin on your shoulder and giving it a kiss before moving to another spot and repeat the same step, earning soft moans from you.

His huge hands traveled from your hips to your ass and taps it lightly. It was a signal for you to jump onto him. You obeyed. He walked toward the nearest couch and laid you there. He kissed you in every part of your skin that’s exposed; your face, your neck, your shoulders, your arms, your hands up to your legs. Arón lifted your dress up but you stopped him once the cloth reached your stomach.

“Someone might walk in on us, baby.” He nodded in understanding and let the dress sit up to your stomach before discarding your panties. Revealing your already dripping pussy.

“Fuck, you’re so wet for me” Arón muttered at the sight. The feeling of his hand touching your thighs is enough for you to moan out his name.  you reached for his shirt’s button one by one opening it. your hand automatically went to touch his chest, your fingers tracing his sun and moon tattoo.

“Arón, baby please” he smirked knowing you’re just eager as him. Reaching for his pants button, he quickly opened it and pull his trousers down along with his boxers. He went back to hover over you pressing his lips on yours leaving wet and hard kisses.

“Arón, please.. please..” he always make you beg when making love. Fucking Aries. Always the dominant one. You tried to thrust upward to meet his rock hard dick but he moved slightly away from you.

“Not yet baby” he said in between kisses. You of course didn’t like this and whined. Once he heard this. He covered your mouth and quickly slammed into you making you scream. Thankfully, Arón’s hand was on your mouth making the sounds muffled. He didn’t move an inch until you moaned. It was his way of knowing that you had adjusted on his size already.

He started slow movements, pushing in and out of you gently making you both moan in unison. Arón was now thrusting at a steady pace. You loved it. it’s been a while since he fucked you like this. It was always hard sex or the needy sex. Soft Arón  turned you even more than the wild version of him. He thrusts into you a few more times before sitting up. He was still inside you when he snuck his arms under your back pulling you into sitting position in a swift. The sudden movements made you moan out loud as he shot a cocky smile towards you.

His smile was replaced with an O shape and pulled his head back, grunting as he felt you clenched around him. “Ride me Y/N”

You did as you were told. You moved up and down on him slowly like he did to you. his name rolled out of your tongue over and over again getting louder in every thrust. He pulled down your dress a bit further to reveal your right boob. He then wasted no time and put it in his mouth. Nipping and sucking on it. while his other hand reached to grab your left boob. You felt your orgasm building up. Arón must’ve felt it too ‘cos your thrust are getting sloppy.

He stopped what he was doing and left you a wet kiss on your lips. “I’ve got you baby” he then lied you back down on the couch again. He positioned himself and pushed your legs wider apart before gripping on your waist and start pounding into you. hard and fast. You held tightly on his forearms like your life depended on it. your moans turned into screams not once caring if someone heard you.

“I’m so close, Arón” you reached for your clit and starts rubbing it in circles. Arón saw this and slaps your hand away, taking over for you so you can go back to gripping on his arm.

“That’s it baby, come for me” Arón grunts and pursed his lips together. Quickening his pace. The sight of him with little beads of sweat forming in his forehead, grunting and moaning your name drove you straight to orgasm. You came. Arón not long after you. screaming each other’s name.

He collapsed on top of you, careful not to crush you with his weight. His head laid on your chest as you both catch breaths. Both of your chest heaving. You rest your chin on top of his head, your hand running softly against his hair just above his neck. Enjoying the view. It was nice to make love under the night sky with the boy you love with all your heart.

“Let’s go home, princesa. Let me fuck you properly.”

Ohhh and the night is not yet over.

“so, more surprises for me huh?”

#aron piper imagines #aron piper #aron fanfiction #aron piper x reader #aron x you #aronsmut #aronfluff #aron piper oneshot

[leviackermanscleaningbuddy]

BTS DRABBLE

It’s never difficult to be around Hoseok or Jimin. Hobi is the actual human form of sunshine 98% of the time, and Jimin is so lovely and sweet and perfect that you wonder on a daily basis if he’s not actually an angel. You’re lucky-you always realize that-but on days like today, when you’re tired and stressed and more than a little crampy-it hits you all over again-just how lucky you actually are. Because with these two men, nothing goes unnoticed, and you never go unloved. 

Or rather, Jess writes a fluffy, purely self indulgent, domestic relationship AU featuring JiHope in honor of Hobi’s birthday week. Happy Hobiuary! 💜

Tags: BTS, Bangtan Boys, Bangtan Seonyendan, Bulletproof Boy Scouts, Beyond the Scene, Jung Hoseok, J-Hope, Hobi, Hoseok, Park Jimin, Jimin, BTS x you, BTS x reader, Poly!BTS, Hoseok x you, Hoseok x reader, Jimin x you, Jimin x reader, Hoseok x Jimin, JiHope, Fluff

Genre: Tooth Rotting Fluff

Title: Champagne Bubbles

It had been a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day. 

As soon as you had gotten into work that morning, the vet on duty had instantly started yelling-overwhelmed and swamped by cases already-and scared of angering her any further, you hadn’t stopped running since 6 AM. 

Cut to the last hour of your shift, and you had somehow managed to get every animal substance known to man on your scrubs-you were fairly certain that last rowdy patient had peed on you more than once-and you looked, and smelled, like someone who was at the end of their metaphorical rope. 

However, you still had to take an exam at the nearby university before heading home, and so, throwing your coat on over your soiled clothes, you headed for the library, the world-dark when you left the apartment that morning-dark once more as the moon crested over the nearby buildings. 

You failed the exam. 

It was hard to drive home-what with the darkened streets and the exhausted tears starting to brim and overflow-but you managed to make it, and pulling into your spot, you allowed yourself to just sit for a moment, forehead resting forlornly on the cold steering wheel. 

This day could not get worse. 

Famous last words. 

Cut to now, as you’re walking up the last flight of stairs to your apartment, and you start to feel the telltale cramping low in your abdomen, the kind that makes you wanna crawl in bed, throw a blanket over your head, and curl up-fetal position-around a hot bean bag. 

“Dammit, why.” You groan out, reaching the landing, as you blindly dig your hand into your purse to search for your keys, a simple task, that feels like an impossible trial in your tired state. 

Good thing you had been prepared and put in a tampon that morning when you had woken with the impending signs of doom and a headache. 

Finally locating your keys, you unlock the door to the darkened apartment and let out a sigh of tired relief as you let your bag slide to the floor right in front of the entrance, kicking off your worn and smelly sneakers without a thought. 

Well, without a thought other than getting into a hot shower and falling into your bed with a heating pad and a blanket over your head. 

It’s quiet in the apartment, and you wonder briefly, if Jimin and Hobi are already asleep as you creep quietly toward the hallway. You are home a lot later than normal. 

You all rise early together every day and split ways in the parking garage-you headed for the emergency vet clinic, Jimin waving cheerfully as he leaves in his old beater for his job as manager at the local coffee shop, and Hobi driving off far too fast on his scooter toward the local arts college, where he teaches dance classes. 

You all usually go to bed early too, at the same time, together, but tonight, you’re far later than usual and the apartment is lacking the sunshine of Hobi’s bright smile and Jimin’s soft welcome home embrace. 

Your footsteps falter at the kitchen, and suddenly, you let out an audible groan, as your eyes are drawn to the kitchen sink sitting dark in one corner. 

Dammit. You still needed to do the breakfast dishes. 

Shuffling across the tile of the kitchen, you turn on the hot water and let it wash over your cold, chapped hands for a moment, before your reach into the sink blindly, searching for the first dirty dish. 

You glance down in surprise when-after moments of fruitless searching-you find nothing in the sink, and note, suddenly, that it is empty and spotless, the dishes already done and put away in the cabinets. 

Interesting. 

You don’t allow yourself to dwell on this for long however, before your tired, aching feet are leading you down the dim hallway once more, toward the safety and warmth of the bathroom and the delicious idea of hot, steaming shower for your tired and dirty body. 

Pushing open the door, careful to be quiet, in case your boyfriends are truly sleeping like you think, your eyes widen once more in surprise for the second time in as many minutes. 

The bathroom is softly aglow with the light of candles, the atmosphere warm and scented like roses and champagne, and in the flickering light, you note that the small bathtub in the corner has been filled to the brim with steaming, lapping water, perfumed with the oily slick of some sort of bath salt. 

“What the hell-” You breathe out beneath your breath, and suddenly, you don’t feel so tired anymore, and the corners of your mouth are tilting upward in the start of a fond smile, as you observe the carefully presented scene before you. 

First the dishes, and now a bath? 

The boys are definitely up to something. 

Shucking your heavy coat off onto the bathroom floor, you trek back the way you have just come, and without knocking, push open the door to the bedroom. 

The room is dimly lit by the string of clear lights that adorn the wall above the bed-giving it a cozy and soft glow-and by the flickering of a movie playing quietly on the TV. 

You lean against the door frame and take in the scene for a moment, the smile on your lips growing unwittingly bigger as you observe your boyfriends, curled up in the middle of the queen bed, piled under several blankets, looking soft and ethereal and altogether incredibly comfortable. 

Jimin looks up first, large dark eyes reflecting the light from the tv screen, blonde hair ruffled in an adorable way, as if he has just taken a shower, and smiles when he sees you, eyes creasing into half moons. “Baby girl! you’re back!” 

Hobi glances over at Jimin’s words, chin resting on the shorter man’s head where it lays on his chest, and offers you one his breathtaking smiles, and the room becomes a million times lighter, as if the sun has just peeked through the curtains. “Hey beautiful! Long day?” 

“Incredibly.” You nod, glancing over to the movie they’re watching. Some action flick you’ve never seen. “What’d you guys do, by the way?” You ask nonchalantly, slightly teasing, as you draw your attention back to them once more. 

“What do you mean?” Jimin asks, sitting up now, full lips drawn into an incredibly cute pout that you struggle to resist. 

“You know.” You motion vaguely over your shoulder. “First the dishes, now a bath?” You grin teasingly, shrugging, suddenly all too aware that you’re still in your stinky scrubs. “You guys must have done something really bad to suck up like this.” 

“You’d think, right?” Hobi jokes back, laughing loudly, as he slides away from Jimin and stands, and you note, as he comes toward you, that he’s wearing the plaid pajama bottoms you had tried so hard to throw away last year. 

He pauses in front of you, quirking his head in an endearing way, and reaches out to tuck back a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “Actually though,” He offers you the hint of a soft, heart shaped smile. “We just wanted to spoil you after a long day. Is that so hard to believe?” 

“Give us some credit, baby.” Jimin has joined you both at the doorway now, and he yawns, reaching up to ruffle his already disheveled hair, before he shoots you a mischievous smile that makes his eyes light up. “We’re not completely dense.” 

“I know.” You laugh now, and the tiredness is showing through again, straining your mirth. “Thank you.” You give them both a fond, affectionate half smile, the best you can do for now. 

You have to admit, the bath is calling your name. 

“Your bath is gonna get cold.” Jimin states, as if he has read your thoughts, and he leans forward, whether to push you toward the bathroom, or hug you, you don’t know, but you avoid his hold by stepping backward. 

“Ew. Don’t touch me, Chim.” You wrinkle your nose as you glance down at your soiled work clothes. “I seriously think I was peed on like fifteen times today.” 

Jimin’s brow crinkles, and he shoots you a teasing look of disgust. “Okay. You don’t have to twist my arm. I’ll wait till you’re clean.” 

Hobi laughs, and the sound gives you the motivation you need to give them each a little grin and wave, before heading toward the bathroom and the much awaited bath. 

******

The bath rejuvenates you, and by the time you return to the bedroom, wrapped in a towel and skin red and raw from soaking, you feel like a completely new person. 

Though you can still feel the exhaustion creeping up your bones. 

The boys are back in the bed, cuddled up like before, but there is another movie going on the TV now-a chick flick-and the bedside lamp is on. 

“You started another movie without me?” You ask playfully, digging through the dresser to find your pajama shorts and tank top, one hand holding the towel securely at your chest. 

“You took too long.” Hobi complains around a mouthful of popcorn, his free arm looped loosely around Jimin’s shoulders. “We thought you drowned.” 

“And you didn’t check to see?” You jab back, glancing over your shoulder, as you finally locate your clothes, and shoot Hobi a playful glare, eyebrow raised in the man’s direction. 

He shrugs. “Didn’t want to miss the movie.” 

You roll your eyes, and start to slip your now clean legs into the pajama shorts, beginning to shiver now in the cool air of the room. 

“You know, baby girl.” Jimin speaks up now, and his normally lilting tones are darker, sultry, suggestively playful. You glance at him, and he raises a brow at you, teeth sunken slightly into his plush, bottom lip, as his eyes scan the naked expanse of your legs. “You could cut down on time. Just not wear anything. Merely a suggestion.” 

You roll your eyes once more, and stick your tongue out at him, before pointedly holding his gaze as you finish putting on the rest of your pajama outfit. 

Sliding hurriedly into the warmth of the bed next to Jimin, you are caught off guard to feel the heat of an already hot heating pad beneath the covers, and you glance over questioningly at the two men beside you. 

Jimin grins in a way that makes your stomach warm with love and fondness. “Don’t tell me you didn’t think we knew.” He cocks his head at you, blonde hair falling into his eyes. “Come on, baby. You’re as easy to read as a book. And you know we keep track.” 

You consider making a teasing remark in return-about them keeping a calendar or something in their phones about the dates of your period-but instead, you decide to simply utter a soft “thank you” as you situate the heating pad, and snuggle down beneath the blankets next to Jimin. 

He slides his arm beneath your body and pulls you against him, and his body heat is instantly making your eyes droop slightly and a heavy feeling of comfort wash over your tired muscles as you allow your head to rest heavily on his chest, heartbeat steady beneath your ear. 

You glance at the TV and recognize the movie scene that is being played. 

You groan. “You guys know I hate this movie.” 

“Which is why we’re watching it.” Hobi teases, letting the hand that is resting on Jimin’s shoulder flick so that his long fingers tickle your hair and the top of your head. “It’s time for you to realize what good media is, beautiful.” 

“Whatever.” You grumble out, burying your face into Jimin’s side, your eyes already closing, as you breathe in the smell of him-sandalwood and vanilla and something soft that feels like home. “I’m not gonna watch it anyway.” 

You feel Jimin press a kiss to the top of your head, and Hobi rest his hand on the crown of your hair, and the affectionate gestures-just to let you know they’re there, that they’ll always be there-make you feel as if you’re home. 

You are home. 

Because you’re so lucky. Lucky to have them both in your life. Lucky to have two people who make you feel as if home is not a place, but a feeling. 

You are the luckiest. 

And you realize that every single day. 

But days like today-that are terrible and horrible and no good-yet still end here, curled up next to your two favorite people in the whole world, make you realize that the most.  

#bts #bangtan #bangtan boys #bangtan seonyandan #bulletproof boy scouts #beyond the scene #jung hoseok #park jimin #purplearmynet #magicshopnet #hobiuary #happy hobiday #hoseok #hobi #jimin #jimin x you #jimin x reader #hoseok x you #hoseok x reader #jhope #jimin x hoseok #jihope #fluff #bts drabble #drabble #bts fluff #bts fic #bts fanfic #bts reactions #bangtanarmynet

[2seokfan]

Scarlet & Hazel | Ch. 1

pairings: hoseok x reader x yoongi

genre: fluff, very light angst, smut (future)

word count: 3.6k

chapters: ch.1, ch.2, ch.3, ch.4

summary: 

Just cause you’re living paycheck to paycheck in a tiny apartment even after graduating college doesn’t mean you’re not happy. So what if your best friend is working her dream job making close to six figures every year?  So what if she’s in a loving, committed relationship with her perfect boyfriend that you’re 99% sure is going to propose to her sometime next year? It doesn’t matter that your idea of a perfect relationship is a $9.99 bottle of wine on Friday nights while you binge watch Netflix specials.

Ok so maybe you’re a teensy bit miserable. Maybe you have no idea what you’re doing with your life. Maybe all you need to do is accidentally cross paths with two hybrids who will drastically change that.

Meet “Scarlet” and “Hazel”, two of the most gorgeous hybrid men you have ever laid eyes on. With their help, you learn that life is an adventure, a rollercoaster with ups and downs, and you were too preoccupied with yourself to climb out of your own predicament. And hey, you’re not much of a romantic, but with these two, you just might change your mind.

note: Hi! This is my first fic ever! I don’t even know if anyone’s gonna read this but I’ve had this idea in my head for awhile so fuck it.

You kicked off your shoes and threw your purse on the couch.

“God my back hurts!” 

Honestly with the amount of random bodily aches you experience on a daily business you could pass for being 70 years old. But this time you knew where the pain stemmed from. You just had to fall asleep awkwardly after a night on your phone. And of course today was a work day and you slept past all THREE of your alarms. But you know that feeling when you sleep for a suspiciously long amount of time and something doesn’t feel right? That’s the sixth sense that saved your ass this morning because your internal body clock was like sweetie I think you’re late. 

You only had time to slap on some makeup, hoping it looked semi decent, and throw your greasy hair into a messy, but passable bun because no one wants to see an ugly receptionist. You had to skip your morning Starbucks drive-through routine because you’re about to be LATE, late so you grab your keys and start your car, booking it to work.

You work at a private hybrid clinic which pays a little better than most but that means you also have to deal with a lot of attitude from rich “owners” (you hate that word). And you sat weirdly at work today so that did nOThing to help your back pain. Also how come everybody decided to book an appointment today?? It’s Friday for god's sake why does everyone and their mothers decide it’s time to call the clinic and book a checkup. They get so mad at you when you say this whole month is filled. You can’t change the schedule though?? The calendar’s filled lady either get over it and settle for next month or fuck off (of course you don’t say that out loud cause you’ll get fired). Also someone yelled at you today because they didn’t like the magazine choices in the waiting room.

Anyways your day sucked and you couldn’t be happier being back in your tiny apartment to binge watch netflix stand-up comedies until you collapse. Well you say it’s your apartment but you actually have a roommate. She’s nothing like you though, she’s the epitome of responsibility. You agreed to live with her even though you met her through Craigslist because once you met her in person you deemed her genuine enough, and also found out she’s hardly ever at the apartment but she still pays rent on time?! You really hit the jackpot with her honestly. Cause you can be a little bit messy sometimes but even when she is home she never complains. The only negative side of having her as a roommate is that you never really had time to bond with her cause she’s so busy and over your league that even after a year you two still aren’t anything more than friendly acquaintances.

Alright time to get out of your work clothes and into nothing but your favorite oversized t-shirt with no pants on because that is what you deem home-appropriate attire. But before you turn on netflix your tummy is making “feed me” noises so it’s time to check the fridge. Damn no leftovers. Time to crack open one of those Trader Joe’s frozen meals you have stacked in the freezer. You blindly pick a box. Guess you’re having vegan tikka masala tonight. Not gonna lie though those frozen meals are actually not half bad. Or maybe you’ve been away from good home cooking for so long you’ve become desensitized? Who cares, you’re hungry. Also it’s Friday, so no harm in cracking open a bottle of wine right?

When you’re all settled on the couch with your favorite plush blanket on your legs, a random comedian on tv, and a full tummy, your mind drifts away. It’s Saturday tomorrow and you have the weekends off. Maybe you should do something fun for yourself to make up for the crap you had to deal with today. You text your best friend Karli. You know she’s awake since it’s only 10pm.

You: Hey girl wanna go to the beach or smth tmrw?? <3

Karli: Yaaas ok I don’t work!! What time?

You: and we can walk around all the fancy stores and get coffee from that place we love.

You: hmmm how bout meet there @11??

Karli: Sounds good sweetie want me to pick you up?

You: no its ok ill meet u there i need to buy groceries after

Karli: Kk love ya see you then!!!

You: love ya! night bby

Karli knows that when you say “go to the beach” you really mean walk along the beach and the nearby stores because it’s early June and prime tourist season. That means the sand is packed with people and their kids and the water’s probably filled with pee so you’re not really down for that. Also the expensive shops near the beach are so cute and you love walking around window shopping, pretending like you can actually afford any of the items on display.

The wine is now getting to you cause before you know it you find your eyelids getting heavy. You muster up your last ounce of strength to turn off the tv and force yourself out of the couch cause your poor back doesn’t need another excuse to keep hurting. As much as you don’t want to wash your face and brush your teeth, you have to because you don’t want makeup on your pillowcase tonight. And when you finally crawl into bed you knock out instantly.

BEEP BEEP BEEP

“Oh fuck…”

You forgot that drunk you last night set an alarm today for 9am. Thank you drunk Y/N. 

Why 9am? Because you need to shower and get ready, plus the beach you’re going to is near the north part of the city, which is also the expensive part of the city, meaning it’s a LONG ways from where you live. But the stores are aesthetically pleasing and it contains both you and Karli’s favorite coffee shop so you’re willing to make the 25 minute drive. Karli doesn’t have to worry though because she lives a lot closer than you do. Girl has got her shit together. Honestly you’re just glad she decided to move back after graduate school cause the long distance friend thing sucks balls.

You hop in the shower and rinse yourself awake. The weather is perfect, warm but not too hot. Unlike many people who prefer to dress up for a nice outing, you’re just the opposite. You’ve been forced to dress in nice business attire with a full face of makeup all week. Hell no are you dressing up on your days off too. It’s a sweatpants and tank top kinda day so that’s exactly what you wear. Ever since college you’ve spoiled yourself into only wearing comfy clothes whenever you have the chance and it’s become a minor problem in your life. You have some perfectly nice jeans in the closet but you haven’t worn them in forever. And you’re not gonna wear them today either. And makeup? Who needs makeup? You’ll just go barefaced since you have no one to impress. Actually just kidding maybe a little concealer just to cover up a few rough spots but that’s IT. You’re still a little self conscious and you know you have to work on that but not today.

It’s now 10:15. You grab your purse from the couch, slip on your favorite pair of slides and head to your car. You’re the kind of person who absolutely needs music when you drive so you quickly start blasting your favorite playlist. Before you know it, you’re pulling up to the beach area. Parking is hard to find on the weekend but your lucky ass managed to squeeze into a street parking spot right as someone pulls out. You lock your car and make the trek to Cozy Coffeehouse, your favorite coffee shop hands down.

Karli is already here and she’s hopping up and down, waving at you. She looks super cute today in her little black dress and fishnets. She’s had the same taste since high school and you’re glad that even a Master’s degree hasn’t stopped her from dressing all punk on her days off. You jog over and give her a quick hug.

“Hey girl look at you!! You’re so cute!” You take in her makeup and you swear if she didn’t go the corporate route she definitely should have been a makeup artist. Her eyeshadow is amazing and you’ll never ever have the blending talent that she has, nor could you ever get your eyeliner to look that sharp.

“Aw thanks! You look comfy though I’m kinda jealous now maybe I should’ve dressed down.” 

“No I love your outfits! Besides, someone has to look nice in this relationship.”

You link arms and march into the cafe. It’s located near the fancy designer stores on a large hill overlooking the beach. When you step inside the whole atmosphere screams ‘cozy’, fitting its name perfectly. The interior is littered with mismatched sofas and armchairs but it somehow still looks aesthetically pleasing. Soft piano jazz is playing through speakers and when you step inside the delicious scent of freshly ground coffee beans immediately invades your nostrils.

You glance at their pastry display first. Today must be your lucky day because they have tiramisu and you absolutely love tiramisu but it’s usually sold out. No way in hell are you letting this chance slide, fuck breakfast norms you’re definitely getting a bite of that. Unfortunately you’re not a fan of sugary treats on top of sugary drinks so to balance things out you choose to order their house brew.

After you two order, you find a spot in one of the plush armchairs near the window and sit. You really are lucky today since window seats are usually taken. But not this time! You guys get to enjoy the gorgeous scenery displayed before you. The sun is bright, people are laying on the beach tanning, and kids are splashing each other with water. For the first time in awhile, you feel content with life, if only for a bit. 

Before long your orders are called out and you stand up to retrieve them. Once you’re settled, you break into conversation with Karli, eager to catch up on everything that happened since you two last spoke face-to-face. You talk about work, Karli’s boyfriend Sunny, that new pizza place that opened up near your apartment that actually has really shitty pizza.

“Like seriously how do you fuck up pizza that badly?” you exclaim in between generous bites of tiramisu.

“No I get you,” Karli responds, slurping her iced mocha frappuchino, “everybody knows what pizza is supposed to taste like, I mean it’s gotta take talent to actually fuck it up to the level you’re describing girl.”

“Exactly!!” You wave your arms in the air, wanting to physically demonstrate your frustration at the situation and your passion for good pizza.

“Anyways…” Karli gently sets her drink down and takes on a more serious tone. “How are you though, honestly.”

“Hmm, me?” You swallow your last bite of tiramisu, “I’m doing good. Works ok, life’s ok. You know. Everything’s… ok.”

“I get that everything’s ‘ok’ but you know I want you to be more than ok. I want you to be happy”

You see the genuine concern in her eyes. Bless this girl for being so soft-hearted.

She continues, “And when was the last time you dated? Like, what, 2 years ago??”

Of course she has to mention dating. Karli has always been a romantic. You? Not so much. Your brain tended to err on the logical, practical side, which is not always a good idea since it keeps you away from many potential relationships.

“I date!” You scoff, but you’re not convincing anybody, least of all yourself.

“Oh really?” Her eyes widen in mock surprise, “Tinder one night stands don’t count babe. You know what I mean.”

“Well you didn’t specify…” You mumble, trying to come up with any excuse to defend your pride. You know she’s just being a good friend and that she’s asking because she cares about you, so you don’t let her questions irritate you.

“Sweetie I’m not trying to make you feel bad and I’m sorry if it comes across that way. It’s just… you mean a lot to me and you’re my bestie and I just want to see you be happy.” She takes your hand from across the table and looks you in the eyes. “We don’t get to see each other as much as we used to, so when I do I want to check in on how you’re doing.”

Then she averts her eyes, which you find highly suspicious. “Also I may or may not have found someone who I KNOW will be a perfect match for you.”

“AHA I KNEW you were leading up to something!”

“Wait but hear me out. He’s an accountant and at first I was like hmmm is he too boring for Y/N? But then I realized I was judging him by his job and that’s not cool so I talked to him and he’s, like, actually super cute and super sweet and I think you two will get along so well!” She’s speaking very fast at this point, trying to squeeze out as much information as possible before you can interject. Then she finishes with one of her signature Karli smiles, big and wide and all teeth and she knows you can’t say no to that face.

“Dammit. Fine.” You lost this round. “Alright if he wants to meet up I won’t say no. How bout that?”

“Gee that’s so thoughtful of you Y/N.” Her tone is sarcastic but she’s still smiling so you know she means no harm.

After another half hour of conversation, locked in a heated debate about food again (this time she’s defending her stance that pineapple belongs on pizza), Karli’s phone rings. The sound scares the poor girl half to death, and watching her jump a mile from her couch had you snorting into your coffee mid drink.

She looks at the caller ID, muttering under her breath, “It’s Saturday what do they want?” then glances up with a sad little pout, “Sorry Y/N it’s work gimme a sec…”

From what you can hear on her side of the conversation, something has come up and she has to head to the office right away. 

“Ok I’ll be there in fifteen,” she hangs up and gives an exaggerated “Ughhhhh”. She takes one large gulp, finishing the last of her ultra sweet, ultra whipped frappuccino. “It’s like they can’t do anything when I’m not there.” She looks especially apologetic when her eyes land back on you, “I’m so sorry I have to cut this short…”

“Hey it’s ok! Duty calls ya know,” you give her a reassuring grin, hoping it passes for a smile instead of a grimace. You were really hoping to hang out today.

“No it’s not ok. We didn’t even get to walk around today! And I know how much you like to do that.” She stands up, slipping her purse onto her shoulder, “so next time I’ll plan a day where I guarantee I won’t get interrupted. It’s the least I can do.”

“Mk sounds good babe,” you give her a big hug, “Go get ‘em tiger!”

After she exits the cafe you finish the last bit of your coffee and glance out the window, staring at the people on the beach. Wow it’s really crowded down there today. You zone in on two kids attempting to build a sandcastle, but it’s too close to the water so the waves flatten it in two seconds. But it seems they didn’t learn their lesson because they keep rebuilding the castle in the same spot. Just move it further up little dudes.

You find yourself lost in thought again. Just because Karli’s suddenly busy doesn’t mean you don’t still have a whole day to yourself. You can walk around on your own. Also why not treat yourself to another drink? A fun one this time from their specials menu.

Ten minutes later you find yourself wandering around the various shops, hot hazelnut latte in hand, gazing at display after display of designer clothes and bags. Look, you may not be a huge fashion person, or have any expendable cash, but a girl can still appreciate art, especially when it’s laid out so nicely in front of you. 

Speaking of art, there’s an art gallery coming up that you absolutely love. You’ve always been too afraid to go inside because you’re the type of person who feels obligated to buy something if you enter a local store and you DEFinitely can’t afford anything there. So you opt to loiter outside, like some creep, looking a little too long at the featured art through the window. This time it’s an Impressionist style painting of a ship on hazy waters with a sunset in the background. You’re no artist but you can appreciate good quality work when you see it. The piece is mesmerizing and serene, transfixing you to the spot. Before you know it, you’ve been staring for 15 whole minutes.

While admiring the artist’s use of color on the display piece, you overhear a lady raising her voice not too far away, snapping you out of your trance. It sounds like drama, so being the nosy bitch that you are, you’re definitely gonna check it out, if only to satisfy your curiosity.

“What do you mean ‘no’?! You’ll be perfect for each other!! Where’s your owner I bet he’ll listen!” At this point the lady’s voice is sounding downright aggressive.

As you shuffle closer to the scene of the noise, you spot a middle-aged, blonde lady pointing her finger at two hybrid men, almost jabbing one of them in the chest with her sharp, ruby nails. Behind her stands a gorgeous female arctic fox hybrid who clearly belongs to her as she pats her owner’s shoulders, trying to calm her down.

“I’m sorry miss but we just aren’t interested.” The taller of the two hybrids with orange hair speaks up, gently pushing the lady’s hands away. “Please leave us alone.” He’s being surprisingly calm, even after getting yelled at in public.

“Yeah lady get out of our faces,” the other white and grey haired hybrid is definitely more agitated, crossing his arms as he huffs in annoyance. You don’t blame him since the blonde lady is being ridiculously rude.

You can’t really make out the two males’ faces, since they’re turned away from you, but they are obviously hybrids. Both having incredibly bushy, soft-looking tails and tall, pointy ears sticking out of their heads.

Even if you can’t see their expressions, you can tell they’re uncomfortable with the harassment. Since you’re still somewhat unaware of the context, you stay out of the argument but decide to keep an eye on the situation in case the lady steps out of line. You’re just slightly around the corner, able to stay a safe distance away so that no one, especially the lady, can catch you eavesdropping. Pretending to admire the Gucci purses displayed in front of the shop you’re now standing at, and almost choking at the price, you cautiously side-eye blondie as she refuses to back down from the hybrid boys.

“Listen here you rude little pets, I’m not leaving you alone until I see your owner. My Sylvia here,” she gestures to the fox hybrid behind her, “would make a perfect partner for you.” She pokes the orange haired hybrid again, “I’ve been searching so long for her to find a mate and I’m not giving you up! Now where the hell is your owner!”

What the fuck?! How dare this lady talk to them like that? And in public no less! You now know exactly why she’s yelling at them. Working at a private hybrid clinic has opened your eyes to the harsh world of hybrids, and their selfish, rich owners. It’s not uncommon for owners to negotiate with each other and breed their hybrids. If two pretty hybrids mate, their children can be sold for loads of money. It's cruel and disgusting, with many of the children sold off before they can even get to know their parents. You’re all too familiar with this tradition, often catching owners in the waiting room of your clinic discussing in whispers about buying and selling hybrid children as if they’re livestock.

“Hey what the fuck did you call us?!” The white and grey hybrid is now also raising his voice. “Listen you wrinkly bi…!” He is quickly silenced by the orange hybrid, who abruptly clamps his hand over his buddy’s mouth.

Orange hair clears his throat. “What he means is, we don’t appreciate the tone you’re using with us. Please leave us alone ma’am. We’ll be on our way. Goodbye.” They attempt to brush past her.

“Hey hold on a minute! I’m not done with you!!” This lady even has the balls to grab onto orange hair’s arm. “I demand to speak to your owner!” Then some sort of realization dawns upon her because her eyes go wide, then quickly narrow. “And where are your collars? Aren’t owned hybrids supposed to have collars on? You know I just might have to call Hybrid Services.” 

You can see the boys visibly tense at her words as she sports a satisfied smirk. Poor Sylvia is now gently tugging on her shirt. “Please calm down, miss…” she says desperately trying to remedy the situation.

Before you know it, and without any plan of action, you round the corner and march up to the boys, standing defensively in front of them.

“Um…” You gulp, then clear your throat, speaking in what you hope is a more confident tone. “Sorry I took so long guys! You wouldn’t believe the line at the coffee shop!”

Next

#bts fic #bts hybrid au #hoseok fanfic #yoongi fanfic #bts smut #bts fluff #bts fanfction #hybrid hoseok #hybrid yoongi #bts hybrid fic

[scottymcgeesterwrites]

Some Goddamn Curtains

When I was in college, I kept getting the compliment, “Wow, your room is really nice for a guy.”  I never understood what that meant for the longest time.  Then I actually paid attention to how most guys kept their dorm room. I once waited for a guy to get ready to head down to an event. I realized that I had never actually stepped foot in his room, much less even glanced inside of it. So when he stepped out and said he was ready to go, I leaned to the side over his shoulder and oh my god it was like downtown Baghdad during the worst of the Iraq War. Damn bruh, you live like this? I liked all my college roommates but the most untidiest one was in sophomore year. He left his toothbrush lying around in the open in a sock drawer, and it would end up somewhere else each night. Maybe he liked to play scavenger hunts to keep himself on his toes? He never put the DVDs back in their respective cases. I once couldn’t wait to watch Iron Man with a friend at their dorm, only to open the case once I got there and realize that my roommate had replaced it with Season 1 of Martin. He would also do this thing where he would drink a can of Coke (that I bought), not finish it, put it back in the fridge, then later open a new can of Coke that he didn’t feel like finishing, and rinse and repeat. First year roommate wasn’t that bad. Third year roommate was nearly as tidy as I was. Then in my fourth and final year I lived alone,  so my sense of the idea that “guys were messy” didn’t really hit me because I’ve only had one bad experience and chalked it up to “It was just that one guy”. I’m 31, and by now I have noticed people saying things like, “Oh my God I was actually thinking about what curtains I liked and I’m such an adult. This is what adult thinking is like. I’m adulting now.”

I hate hearing shit like that. I grew up blithely admitting liking things that an adult would “normally like”, such as curtains. The curtains thing came up in high school when I hung out at the senior lounge. The senior lounge was this bare room that looked like it was meant for old people to sit and play bingo. It was boring and dull and I hated it. It felt more lke a prison cafeteria really, with some worn out couches. I would bring my video games to that lounge, namely GoldenEye 007, to play with friends during our free period.  The room didn’t have any curtains, so at a certain time in the afternoon, the sun would beat down directly onto the screen, making it difficult to see properly. A lot of us would squint and move closer or lean forward.  I then said, “This room needs some curtains.”

A pause, and then someone replied, “Did you just say this room needs curtains?” And I was like, “Yeah. Maybe something blue. Something dark.”

And he looked at me and scoffed, and all the other guys did the same - they gave me this funny sideways glance and scoffed. I asked what the problem was, but they mostly shook their heads in disbelief. I was frankly annoyed by their response. So I said, louder, “This room needs some goddamn curtains”, because I thought it was perfectly fucking reasonable that a person would logically do something about the fucking glare from the fucking sun. Maybe they liked blinds better. Who knows? But it took me ages to fully realize two things:  1. It’s not socially acceptable for boys to be interested in style - whether it be about living spaces or clothes. I was fiercely made fun of for the clothes I wore as a kid throughout young adult life. I hated all kinds of t-shirts. I think growing up thin and gangly made me too self-aware of my arms. But I never specifically wanted to wear anything that had a band name or a company logo or even my favorite video game or movie. I would feel like a walking advertisement, and that would piss me off. I often liked ties, long-sleeved shirts, and sweaters. I never left the house in sweatpants or pajamas. I always had to comb my hair and put on a good shirt. Sweatpants were when you worked out or worked around the house fixing things.  I grew up in Catholic school, so we had uniforms. On dress down days, my classmates would come up to me and say, “Eddie, you were supposed to dress DOWN, not up” or “I can’t believe you’re wearing that on a dress down day!”.  I didn’t have a problem with people dressing how they dressed. Sure I was never into the goth thing, but I didn’t want to judge. I just wanted to dress how I wanted to dress. And maybe I was influenced in some way by how my parents dressed me up, and maybe other times I did feel embarrassed, but I knew that at the end of the day I would wear what felt most comfortable to me. Sometimes my mom would give me a sweater that was a tad too bland, so I went to the bathroom once I got to school and took it off. I would like the polo but untucked it and unbuttoned the top buttons. Half-and-half. Right idea, but lemme wear it like this instead. College was really when I started to develop my everyday style, my “main outfit”, like a video game character. I always wore some untucked button-down shirt with a tie, jeans, and sneakers. I liked it. It was this weird blend of dressing up and dressing down. People my age thought I was overdressed but my parents and people over 50 complained that I was underdressed. It was great! It feels so special to piss off both sides! My parents still remember the time I got an award at college and I went up the stage wearing that getup. You look at the picture and see the students standing side-by-side in nice dresses and dockers, and then there’s me wearing jeans and sneakers with a shirt and tie.  There always seemed to be this false dichotomy for how men should look and be - either the dapper “metrosexual” man who was slightly effeminate or the rough-and-tumble strong man who didn’t need to use an umbrella when it rained and never cared to fix his hair because that’s some “gay shit” for silly city folk. That false dichotomy is always played out in media. There’s a million buddy cop movies about the book-smart guy who is suave and sophisticated teaming up with the street-smart guy who is all muscle and manly and goes for the more practical route. Yin and Yang. Hot and cold. Good cop and bad cop. Lucky and Wild. Tango and Cash. But growing up I thought, “Why not both?” I loved watching James Bond as much as I loved watching Indiana Jones. Why couldn’t I be both if I really wanted to? It fit me best to play both roles. I AM GOING TO MIX THESE TWO THINGS AND YOU CAN’T FUCKING STOP ME! I WILL BE BOTH BOOK-SMART AND STREET-SMART. I KNOW THE QUADRATIC EQUATION AND HOW TO CON SOMEONE. THE ULTIMATE LIFEFORM.  The fucking worst though is being an adult now and hearing women wish they knew a guy who “dressed properly”, and men complimenting my clothes saying I look sharp.

Fuck all of you, honestly. 2. Young people are afraid to admit they like things that adults like. I grew up with extended family members living in cozy homes. I liked to admire their grandfather clocks, their decanters, their entertainment center, their offices and their chairs. I liked to wander around their houses during the holidays and poke my nose into their closets and admire old things. Maybe it’s something that an only-child might relate to the most. I wasn’t required or asked to be upstairs to attend a younger or older sibling. The adults just did their own thing and so I wandered off. Ikea always tickled my fancy as a kid. I would wander through the model rooms of offices and bedrooms and bathrooms, and I found whatever felt coziest to me and pretended that I was home. Better yet, I sometimes daydreamed that the entire Ikea facility was my home. How about that? Tired of sleeping on the bunk bed? Go to the next room to the big bed. I feel like cooking in that kitchen today, not this one. Some days I’ll feel more serious and work in the wooden office desk and other days I’ll feel silly and be in the kids room. I’ll take the whole building, please. This is where I live now. Swedish meatballs for dinner and creamy European chocolate bars for dessert every day. Young people fear being old and facing responsibilities. That doesn’t mean you liking these things makes you older. Taste and style is part of who you are, and there’s no shame if you have an interest in some bath mats or a nice decanter when you’re 20 or 17.

When I lived in my single dorm back in senior year of college, I realized that I was truly living alone for the first time. It brought some sanity to me that I didn’t know I needed. I was able to organize things how I saw fit, and hosted parties whenever I wanted. If I felt like something needed adjusting, I didn’t need to ask anybody’s permission. I really started exploring my sense of style and taste. As I grew up, I developed really specific tastes about where I would live: 1. Everything has to make sense. The placement of shelves, TVs, desks, dressers, paintings, pictures, all have to feel like they are easily viewed and accessible without needing to awkwardly turn to face them or reach them.  2. Symmetry is not always necessary but still good to fall back on when you don’t know what to do. 3. I never liked to sit with my back to the window(s) or the door. I always needed to see who or what was going to approach me or look at me.  4. TVs should never go on top of fireplaces.  5. Always have some kind of drawing room for guests to wait.  6. Never put your keys or sensitive documents in the foyer, drawing room, or wherever else strangers can easily find them the minute they walk into the house.  7. Open concept is pretentious.  8. It is far easier to cook if you have an island in the kitchen.  9. McMansions are the bane of style. Fake balconies, fake shutters, brick facades - everything about them is evil.  10. Get some goddamn curtains.

#onlife #style #fashion #curtains #home #houses #housing #living #life #men #women #double standard #double standards #masculinity #metrosexual #toxic masculinity #masculine #feminine #james bond #indiana jones #tango and cash #does anyone remember that movie? #ikea #booksmart #streetsmart

[erosofthepen]

Hello! I had an idea for an imagine that I wanted to get your thoughts on, if that's fine by you. Which Characters from The Hobbit and Lotr do you think would most enjoy dating a Dark Academia-style Writer? So like she dresses in the Dark Academia fashion, reads Classical Literature and her own stories and essays to them while cuddling, excitedly Rants about History and Literature to them, and maybe they even find her journal full of sappy love poems and rambles about how much she loves them? Who do you think would be most down for a s/o like that, if you don't mind me asking. I'd love to get your thoughts on this, and your blog is so spectacular btw!

Oh ho ho, my friend, this is right up my alley. I am obsessed with Dark Academia.

For ‘The Hobbit’:

Bilbo Baggins.

He was literally the first person to pop into my head. He is a perfect mix of cottage core and light academia, and I feel like he would have a lot of love for dark academia as well. When you’d cuddle, you’d both be reading your respective books (or even better, reading the same book with one another, or even even better, reading aloud to one another), and when a particularly deep or meaningful quote or scene happens, you would both discuss it thoroughly. You would both go into rants about history and literature you find interesting, and understand one another perfectly, going into incredible depth about the topics. If he ever found love poems you wrote about him, he would read them with the fondest smile upon his face. Who knows, in a few days, you might even come across a few poems or songs he has written about you.

Bard.

Bard has a lot of respect for history, (I hold firm to the belief that he was one of the very few lake men who really cared about the towns past), and would probably even help teach you some history of Dale and Esgaroth. And if you teach him about our worlds history and mythology, he would be all ears and find it utterly fascinating. He would totally be down to just spending quiet days at the library with you, and would probably read every book you recommend to him (Imagine discussing ‘A Secret History’ with him… that would be quite an interesting conversation). And if he ever came across love rants/poems… this man would get all cute and tell you how much they mean to him. He’s just that kind of person.

Thorin.

This dwarf would be incredibly into Dark Academia. I can just imagine dressing him up in one of those gray waistcoats with the white, long-sleeved undershirt. If he should roll the sleeves up to the elbow… sigh. He could totally dress the part. And he would absolutely love seeing you dressed dark academia style. His color palate is very similar to what is typically dark academia. And get ready for hours of discussing both dwarrow and human history with him. Also, if I may go out on a limb here, there is this headcannon I have about dwarrow museums being carved into old mineshaft used of resources. Thorin would be immensely proud and excited to show you and teach you everything in the museums. Walking down the stone halls and him pointing out various carvings and texts on the walls, your dark academia mind couldn’t be happier. And cuddles with his arm around your shoulders, lying in bed after a long day, ending the night reading. He would occasionally look down at what your reading (possibly asking what’s going on in the plot, depending on if you get annoyed by interruptions or not) and smile to himself. If you read your own work to this dwarf, expect the best feedback possible. He is very thorough with his feedback, and knows how to properly give constructive criticism as well as highlighting the best parts of your work.

Lindir.

This sweet little elf would be beside himself. He loves the libraries in Rivendell, and you sharing and reading stories with him opens up worlds. He would also love the way you dress, and will often ask what has inspired your ‘look’ for the day. He gets excited when you come to him with a new topic to rant about, and will likely contribute some very insightful views on the matter. When you come to him with questions about Middle Earth’s history, he will gladly answer whatever you ask (and probably end up having a history rant of his own. ‘Hey Lindir, what are the Silmarils?’ ‘…how about you sit down, and we’ll chat about it for a few months.’). He would just be the sweetest if he found your love rambles, and would be blushing the entire time reading them. Expect a wonderful thank you and an entire sonnet of his own composed for you.

Ori.

Can’t forget this little scribe. He would be beside himself at finding a fellow reader and writer, and the two of you would have so many reading sessions where you discuss what exactly this word meant in this context, or just ranting sessions where you gush and/or vent about a certain scene or plot development. He would find your outfits absolutely exquisite and probably even help you piece some together. Cuddling with him while reading is honestly the best, because you’ll just be laying side-by-side, surrounded by pillows and blankets (possibly in front of a fireplace in the Great Erebor Library), and just be reading your different books together, content to just read without feeling the need to talk. If you ever read your work to him, he would be beside himself at the level of trust you place in him (being a writer, he knows how daunting sharing your work can be), and he would love whatever you write. Expect him to start sharing his work as well. For the love poems, You’ll probably find his poems/rambles first, tbh. He just loves expressing himself through writing, and expressing his love for you is his favorite thing. You both get all sappy and blushy when you read one another declarations of love.

For ‘Lord of the Rings’:

Frodo Baggins.

Much like his Uncle, Frodo has a healthy appreciation for history and literature. He’d just love pouring over different books with you, and discussing them. His favorite thing to do with you on rainy days is to curl up with a good book and read aloud. Maybe even a walk down the trails and paths with an umbrella as well (Lobelia in the hobbit movies and the end of return of the king has proven there to be umbrella’s in Middle Earth). Hobbits are known for their passion for History, particularly family History, so he’ll definitely go into some rants of his own about the history of the Shire, and will sit and listen to your rants as well.

Elrond.

Lord Elrond is like a living, breathing, history textbook. He would be the absolute best person to discuss historical events and mythology and such. His keenness for knowledge knows no limits. There will definitely be very, very, long conversations about literature and meanings behind what the author writes, and the morals and values of the texts. Honestly, there is just such a depth of understanding between you and Elrond that is incredibly hard to find in others.

Faramir.

This man. This is the man who literally fanboyed over Gandalf and became a pupil to him. He would absolutely be beside himself when he meets you, because another human who is obsessed with learning and history and literature and discussing it and having deep conversations about it??? He would fall hard. And he would always love the way you dress, whether you are wearing a cozy sweater-vest or a dramatic trench coat. The two of you would literally spend hours in Gondor’s libraries, pouring over shelves of scrolls and books, taking notes on them, and maybe with a few older ones, restoring them together. Your favorite thing to do before going to bed is lighting a few candles and reading together. He would especially be fascinated and amazed at anything you have written and willing to share with him. He honestly just loves you so much, and feels so understood when he’s around you. And finding love poems written about him fills him with an indescribable amount of joy.

Aragorn.

When not off doing important Ranger or Kingly duties, Aragorn would just love to spend time reading with you. The kind of quality time where neither person needs to say anything, because the simple presence of the person is enough. He’s very into History, and I can totally see him ranting to you about the story of Beren and Luthien (perhaps the rest of the Silmarillion if he has the time), and would love to hear about your stories and books from our world. He’s the kind of person who prefers to dress practical, but that doesn’t stop him from complimenting your outfits and thinking how great you look every time you walk into the room. He loves the aesthetic of it. And should he ever stumble across a poem about him, he will probably keep it to himself, but memorize every word and repeat it to himself while traveling.

So I may have gotten just a tad bit carried away with this, but it was so much fun doing! Thank you for this ask! I hope this is what you were looking for. Now, i’m going to make myself a cup of tea and go to bed.

#bilbo baggins #dark acadamia #ori #aragorn #lindir #elrond #faramir #hobbit asks #lotr asks #frodo #thorin #bard #claraofthepen #the hobbit #lord of the rings

[asthmark]

❝ lucky ❞, z.c

pairing → chenle, reader

genre → fluff, angst? a lil??

word count → 3.1k (woah!!)

summary → "you just deserve… so much more than that. do you realize how true that must be for a boy you just met today to see it?"

a/n → this is 1000% inspired by this pic that dropped yesterday like.....chenle looked so good it reminded me why i bias him!!!! anyway i kind of like this it has rich chenle and daddy issues thats all xoxo (also i did not proofread like at all so if theres any typos it was taeil's fault lol)

everyone in the room is utterly unbearable.

you understand it's rude to think so but you're sure that if you were to tell any of them this they would instantly agree with you. of course, you would never do that. because you're a ceo's daughter; you're not allowed to have an opinion that would make you look imprudent, rude or anything less of perfect.

so what do you do? you smile. you make small talk. you try your best to ignore your sore feet that are confined in your pumps and the way your dress rides up your butt. your lack of manners could not and would not be the reason your father missed out on any chance to make some more money. he made that very clear to you. after all, the only reason he dragged you along to all these house parties was so you could make make a stellar impression. he wanted all the businessmen in the room to remember mr. l/n and his charming young daughter when they got in their limousines and drove back home so that they'd remember when they discussed mergers and new projects.

you were never comfortable with the idea of your father essentially using you as some sort of accessory but you sometimes went days on end without seeing him so you took what time you could get. of course, helping him build his empire and boost his reputation wasn't your preferred daddy-daughter activity but you would never tell him that. it would just cause problems in your already rocky relationship and you certainly didn't need that.

"y/n." speak of the devil. "why don't you make conversation with the other guests? or better yet, come talk to these investors. i'm sure they'd love to meet you."

you know exactly what your father means by that so you try to find a reason to decline. anything would be better than watching him suck up to anyone with deep pockets and try to get you to do the same. "um." you repress a relieved sigh when you catch sight of yuna entering and handing her coat to a housekeeper. "actually i see my friend over there. i think i'll just go talk to her."

he frowns and you realize his face seems to be permanently stuck like that when he was around you. you can't remember the last time you'd seen an authentic smile from him. you suppose that was reserved for when he was trying to seal a deal.

"just behave yourself," he says. he leans into your ear. "remember, people are watching."

then he's gone, leaving you standing alone for a split second before yuna comes and takes his place.

"hey!" she draws out the word for dramatic effect.

"hi," you respond, your greeting lacking the enthusiasm hers held. she wasn't your favorite person but it was nice to talk to someone who wasn't observing your every move. it gave you a break from the ridiculous standards everyone else seemed to hold you to.

she brushes her bangs out of her eyes as she sized you up. "ooh, i love your heels! how much?"

"like 15 bucks." her jaw drops and you can't help but giggle. "yeah, i bought them at a thrift store. just don't tell my dad."

she grins. "wow, i always thought thrifting was for poor people but i just might have to check it out now."

that was the thing about yuna. she was stupid rich and she wouldn't have it any other way. she loved designer brands and houses so big you could get lost in them. you didn't blame her for any of that but it was the fact that she didn't mind the stuffy dinner parties and being shown off that was a little puzzling to you. unlike you, she had perfected her fake laugh and polite small talk long ago and sometimes you wondered if she really did care about all these companies and powerful men. but you know that as long as she gets to wear her thousand dollar dresses and go home to her cozy mansion, she'll be happy. she did what it took to keep her lavish lifestyle and was a little too materialistic for your liking and you guess that's where you and her are different.

you finally answer her. "yeah, definitely. it's a lot of fun."

her eyes light up. "we should go together one of these days!"

your silence is definitely too long but thankfully, yuna doesn't notice. her short attention span had caused her to focus on something else—more specifically, someone.

"oh my god," she says. "who is that?"

a boy who looks around your age has appeared, accompanied by a middle-aged man in a suit. the older man is more put together by far but you still can't help but stare at who you assume to be his son. he's wearing a black jacket on top of a striped shirt and you notice that chains hang from his neck. a belt holds up a pair of dark and tight pants. and, god, is he wearing converse?

you can't help but crack a smile at that. you envy his comfortable look; you would trade all the chanel and prada in the world just to wear a t-shirt and pair of sneakers and not have everyone in the room judge you for it. but his outfit isn't the only thing you admire. he must have crazy amounts of confidence to show up looking like he does when being surrounded by so many managers, executives, and company heads. you can only imagine what they're thinking and yet, the boy didn't seem to care or look uncomfortable in the slightest. in fact, he seems oddly at ease, his eyes scanning the room. at one point his eyes sweep over you and you lock eyes.

you watch as he brushes his bangs out of his face, almost like he's trying to get a better look at you. you only stare back, shifting your weight from one leg to the other. he offers you a half smile, his eyes squinting slightly and cheeks growing. you can't help but smile back, noticing just how the stranger's had an adorable baby face.

he looks away when he notices his father gravitating towards a group of businessmen and follows him. you almost wonder if he was in the same position as you were, if he was nothing but a poster child who was shown off at every event and party there was. then you notice how his father holds him tightly and smiles widely—genuinely—when he introduces him to others.

your father never did that. he wouldn't let you wear clothes like that either. you could only assume that this boy and his father were different from the rest of you. maybe they sat down and had dinner together everyday? talked to each other about their day? you almost throw the idea out of your head completely because it seems just too foreign to you.

"oh my god," yuna says. that seemed to be her favorite phrase. "i've never seen them before. what do you think they're doing here?"

you shrug. "maybe they're new to town?"

she hums. you both stay silent, observing the pair before yuna seems to grow impatient. "well i'm gonna go meet them. i can't handle being out of the loop. wanna come?"

you say agree. you feel obligated to. for the first time in forever you're actually interested in something at one of these dull parties, you're not going to stand around and just watch.

you approach the newcomers, both your fathers and a couple other businessmen conversing with them. you wonder if they've already asked them how much they're worth or if they had the decency to wait a minute before sticking their noses in their business. but, you knew how people like them operated; decency was way too much to ask.

"hi daddy!" yuna enters the conversation swiftly.

"hi, sweetheart," her father responds, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. "this is my precious daughter, mr. zhong." he turns to yuna. "he and his son are visiting us all the way from our china branch. yuna, introduce yourself."

she doesn't need to be told twice. "hello, i'm yuna. i'm 17 years old and i'm studying at daewon preparatory. we're glad to have you here.it's a pleasure to meet you both."

mr. zhong smiles fondly at her. "the pleasure is all mine, young lady. what a beautiful daughter you have, mr. shin. she seems very capable."

yuna's father pulls her close to him, smiling at mr. zhong then her. "she sure is." you catch the subtle wink he throws her way, a silent 'good job' for that cute little introduction she did which was sure to score them some popularity points with the zhongs.

your father pulls you close to him and wraps an arm around your figure. both mr. zhong and mr. shin seem to be quite the fans of physical contact and although your father was not, you know that if that's what it took to make a good impression, he would become one, at least for the night.

"this is my daughter, mr. zhong." he turns to you and you take it as a cue to say something.

"hello, mr. zhong. i'm y/n." your introduction ends there and you feel your dad's grip on your arm tighten, indicating how unsatisfied he was with your brief answer.

you catch mr. zhong's son smile for the second time that night. although there is no mysterious eye contact this time, just a cute boy probably making fun of your lame introduction.

"well, how old are you, y/n?" mr. zhong asks, making conversation for you.

"i'm eighteen."

"oh, so is my son! isn't that right, chenle?"

his son—chenle—nods.

"well, i think we should leave the children to become acquainted. what do you think, gentlemen?"

everyone seems to agree. then, all that's left is the three of you.

to your surprise, chenle speaks first and it's a reintroduction. "i'm chenle."

you copy him. "i'm y/n."

"and i'm yuna. so, you're from china right?" she doesn't give him a chance to respond. "i read that there are over four million millionaires there. are you one of them?"

he furrows his brows and you can't help but sigh at yuna's question. she was fixed on the money aspect of things, as usual.

"i guess," he says, giving it little thought.

she practically squeals. "you're probably one of the youngest in the country! have you ever thought about that?"

"not really. i don't really like to think about money or these companies or big shot business dudes or any of that," he says, bluntly. "i mean, it would just make me feel more privileged than i already am. besides, it's all just a big headache. i'll leave it for the old man."

yuna's face falls and you hold in a laugh.

you finally chime in. "you know what, i have to agree. so much money can drive a person crazy. sometimes it even goes straight to their heads."

chenle can't hold back his amused snort. both him and yuna know exactly who you're referring to.

she wastes no time defending herself.  "but, with reason y/n. to be fair, only 1% of millionaires are under 35 and here i am at 16."

you restrain yourself from scoffing. "well i'm sure the other 99% of the population doesn't get things handed to them on a silver platter by their daddy, yuna."

she stares you down, her huge, hazel eyes never leaving your e/c ones. "i think it'd be best if i excused myself. i'm going to go find my father, if you both don't mind."

"not at all," chenle mumbles as you both watch her stomp away.

you exhale loudly. "i knew i was gonna snap one of these days."

"well, if you didn't i would have," chenle responds.

"frankly, i don't regret a thing," you say, turning back to his smiling face.

"mm, and what if she tells daddy?" he inquires, folding his arms.

you playfully raise a brow. "i'll have you know, i'm one of the 1% of millionaires that are under 35, i think i have the advantage."  

he giggles. "oh god, that was unbelievable. where did she even get those numbers from?"

"i have no idea but it was just… painful to watch. i'm gonna need a breath of fresh air after that."

he nods in agreement and you both walk towards the nearby balcony.  you step outside, the breeze whipping your hair all over the place and leaving goosebumps on your skin.

"you know," he begins before silence can settle upon you two for too long. "i was really hoping there would be someone around my age here tonight. and i don't know if you usually come to these things or if you don't but either way, i am so glad you're here."

this comment reminds you of the way he had stared you down upon arriving and it makes your face feel a little warm despite the cool air of the night. "'cause i'm the only thing standing between you and a wonderful night with yuna."  

"oh i'm sure it would've been real wonderful." he gives you a 'yeah right' look. "we couldn't even hang around each other for more than five minutes, i'm positive it would've been a long night."

you nod. "every night with her is. usually she's the only person i end up talking to at these things and let me just say, i think she's more money-hungry than all the men in there combined."

chenle whistles, lowly. "combined? that's dangerous."

"yeah, she takes after daddy," you mutter, picking at your nail polish that has begun to peel.

"what a relief you don't," he says. "or else i think i would have thrown myself off this balcony by now."

"well, you don't have to worry about that. you and i are on the same boat. money doesn't interest me all that much. definitely not to that extent."

"what does interest you?" chenle asks, turning his attention to you instead of the city lights in the distance.

you shrug. "i haven't figured it out yet. i'm too busy trying to be perfect. and i have a long way to go. just ask my dad, he seems to have really strong opinions on the matter."

"oh, i get it," he says. "you're so focused on being the perfect daughter that you haven't figured out what's going on in there." he wiggles his finger around your forehead.

"i just… want to make him happy. i want to see him smile because of me. even if 'me' is that daughter he expects me to be. i'm okay with being her. i'll take it."

chenle furrows his eyebrows and suddenly he doesn't seem to get it anymore. "you really... become an entirely different person? just for him? i mean, you seem like a good daughter. i don't understand that, y/n."

"and you won't understand, chenle," you respond. "because your dad loves you. he lets you wear your edgy clothes to business parties and doesn't worry about what everyone else is gonna think. he doesn't worry about first impressions, he doesn't force you to become someone else for strangers. he doesn't put any business deal above you. he doesn't chose his job over you, chenle and that's great. i'm so happy that's not the case with you. but it is for me. and when you know that the only time your dad is going to want anything to do with you is when you can help him make a quick buck or good impression, you resort to facades and doing anything you can to make him appreciate you. just a little."

chenle's arms envelop your shivering figure before you can say another word. his hands run up and down your arms and his chin rests atop your head. he inhales deeply, taking in your wonderful scent. he knows it's probably some off the wall expensive perfume.

"i'm so sorry, y/n," he mumbles into your coconut scented locks. "i'm sorry that you have to do that and that i won't ever be able to understand it. you just deserve… so much more than that. do you realize how true that must be for a boy you just met today to see it? and it breaks my heart that your own father doesn't because you really shouldn't have to suffer through that. he doesn't have his priorities straight but that shouldn't be an excuse for him to neglect his own daughter." he detaches from you so he can look directly into your glossy eyes, holding you at an arm's length away.  "and he has no idea what he's missing out on, y/n. you're so headstrong, so humble and so much more than just a pretty face or someone's daughter. and if he can't treat you like the incredible individual you are then...." he exhales and you catch his breath blow in the air. "then please let me."

your bottom lip is quivering. you had never heard such nice words. and you don't have the slightest idea what he means by that last bit but you still nod and jump right back into his arms. because you have decided that's where you feel safest. where you can be yourself, freely and unapologetically.

"the second i walked in this place, i hated it," he mumbles and a laugh escapes your lips. "but then i saw you. and it got a little better. then i met you. and it got a lot better. we just met but i already can't seem to get enough of you, y/n." he chuckles as if he can't believe it himself. "you must be something really special. and i have the privilege of seeing that."

you move away from his chest and look up at him. your hands thread through his tufts of hair that match the darkness of the night sky. his hands stay planted firmly at his waist. you feel like he has no intention of letting go. you would be lying if you said you did either. and neither of you seem to have a problem with it.

"i can't wait for you to finally feel what it's like to be treated how you deserve. and i can't wait to be the guy to show you. i am so, so lucky."

you smile, your teeth on display. "i'm actually so glad i came tonight. that is definitely a first."

he laughs. "speaking of firsts..." he trails off, shyly.

you raise a brow, just to tease him a bit. "what are you getting at, mr. zhong?"

he knows you're joking yet his heart pounds as he leans in and asks for permission to kiss you. "may i, ms. l/n?"

"you may," you respond, meeting him halfway.

#chenle #zhong chenle #chenle imagine #chenle nct #nct dream #nct #nct 127 #nct u #wayv #chenle x reader #chenle blurb #nct dream imagines #jaemin #jeno #nct dream reload #reload #jisung #jisung imagine #jeno imagine #jaemin imagine #renjun #renjun imagine #taeyong #mark lee

[ssadropout]

Their Way

A/N- Royai wedding fluff! I didn’t know how to accessorize Riza’s dress. The idea for her jewelry (I wanted her to wear some) is from a forum on theknot.com. I don’t see her wearing a veil. 

The large parlor in the Fuhrer’s mansion had been made cozy with casual arrangements of wildflowers. The sun shone through the large bay windows, but the room temperature was comfortable. They had opted to use upholstered chairs from around the house- there were enough of them- instead of the usual folding or hard wooden chairs for such an event. For the most part, the guests sat chatting happily in anticipation of what was to come. It wasn’t a large gathering, and the good mood was contagious- unless one was not capable of a good mood.

General Armstrong growled and rattled her sword. “Where is that punk Mustang? I swear, if he hurts Hawkeye, I’ll rid him of his sword with my sword!”

“Oh, dear Sister, it’s still early. I’m certain he would never do such a thing. The love between them is strong and true.” Alex Louis could not hold back tears, and his sister scoffed. 

The general stared at the temporary platform at the front of the room. Grumman sat calmly but alone on the riser under a canopy of more wildflowers. He looked as if nothing were wrong. In fact, he had a huge smile on his face. 

“He’d better get up there soon, even if Hawkeye deserves so much better than him. I suppose she is allowed one fault. There’s no accounting for taste.” 

Her brother wrinkled his expressive brows. “I wonder why Fuhrer Grumman is waiting up there. If he is Captain Hawkeye’s grandfather, why isn’t he walking her down the aisle?” Olivier just growled again.

********

Riza stared at herself in the vanity mirror as Rebecca fussed with her hair. Riza rolled her eyes, because there really was nothing to fix about the elegant chignon, but she said nothing.

The wedding, while still small by most standards, was larger than she and Roy had originally wanted. They had figured on a ceremony at City Hall with the team, her grandfather, and Madame. However, when their engagement was announced, congratulations from some people slightly outside their inner circle made them rethink the plan. Dr. Marcoh had restored Roy’s sight and made so much possible for them. Dr. Knox had always been there when Roy had needed him. Gracia… how had they ever considered leaving her and Elysia out? And, Edward Elric had made it clear that he didn’t give a shit about Mustang, but he and his family would be there in case Riza came to her senses and wanted to escape. So, it became an actual wedding with Rebecca and Havoc as attendants. An arf  interrupted her thoughts, and she ruffled her ring bearer’s fur. Roy had immediately agreed to Hayate being involved in their big day.

Once she had decided to wear a dress, she lamented not having a wedding dress from her mother. Her mother and father had eloped, and there had been nothing to remember their wedding  by except an official piece of paper. It would be very different for Riza and Roy. Gracia was carrying on for Maes, and she had already snapped an album’s worth of photos. 

Riza stood to stretch. It was nearly time to get the show on the road. She twisted to observe herself from all angles. The champagne colored dress was plainish- no, simple, not plain. It had detail but was unfussy. It fell around her body perfectly. After their engagement, Roy had had a jeweler make a necklace and earrings from pearls and some crystals he had transmuted. The jewelry was another example of his instinct about her. He had known nothing about her dress, but the accessories were perfect. He had even known that she never wore bracelets. Her bouquet of wildflowers lay on the dresser. 

“I’m ready,” she said with a serene smile. “See if the boys are ready.”

********

Madame had gone to check on the groom’s progress, and she reported to Grumman, whispering several words in his ear. Grumman rolled his eyes, even though it was only five minutes past the intended start. He addressed the audience, which quieted quickly for the Fuhrer. With a grin, he announced, “I believe that this is the first time Riza Hawkeye has ever been late for anything! The ceremony should begin in the next few minutes.” He felt like the cat that had swallowed the canary. He’d secretly requested that Mustang be assigned to him immediately after Ishval and had been more than thrilled when his estranged granddaughter had joined the young officer. The old man had immediately decided that Mustang would be his grandson-in-law, but it had taken him much too long to accomplish this. Who would have thought that he’d be Fuhrer before that idiot couple married? 

********

 Roy was shaking. He hoped that his hands would steady enough that he could get the ring on her finger. He wasn’t really nervous. They had been together in one way or another for more than half of their lives, and they had loved each other, if imperfectly, for many years. This day was really a dream come true. He just wanted everything to be perfect for her, and he didn’t want to be an embarrassment. He tried to keep his hands away from his hair, which looked neat for once. Breda smoothed Roy’s dress uniform but said, “Lookin’ good!” Except for Havoc and Mustang, the men left for the parlor. 

There was a knock at the door. Rebecca peeked in and said, “It’s time.” Then she smiled and looked Roy directly in the eyes. “If you ever hurt her, I’ll kill you.” Rebecca went back to the bride’s room. 

Havoc whispered, “I’m pretty sure she means it.” 

The two men walked into the hall, and the bride’s door opened. Roy’s hands stilled the moment that he saw her. She put her arm through his so that she could hold her bouquet. Hayate yipped around their ankles.

“You look so beautiful,” he softly declared. “You look just like yourself but moreso.” 

She wiped the tear that ran down his cheek. “Oh, Roy, are you beginning to cry already?” she laughed. She leaned into him, and he reciprocated.  

Hayate took his place at the head of the small procession. Jean and Rebecca linked arms behind the pup. Riza hadn’t really liked the idea of being given away. She had been living her own life and making her own decisions since she was nineteen. Grumman might have been a little hurt when they told him, but he had perked up when they asked him to officiate. Roy had long wanted Riza by his side instead of two steps behind. Already inseparable, they walked each other down the aisle like the true pair they already were.

#riza hawkeye #roy mustang #royai #royai wedding #fullmetal alchemist #royai fluff #general grumman #madame christmas #jean havoc #heymans breda #rebecca catalina #black hayate #olivier mira armstrong #alex louis armstrong