#because too many doors are left open and changing his fashion style & fucking every single men that gave him a heated look won't change it

[jerisch]

The wrong catch

Another fantastic story by @writer-ofstuff​, featuring Derek from Teen Wolf.

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Derek groaned as he came to. Rubbing his head as it ached. He remembers getting out of his car and then blacking out. He goes on the alert a few seconds later when he realizes that someone has taken him. Derek can see it in some sort of basement given the layout of the room and that makes him assume it must be the Argents. Given how they've been trying to hunt him down for weeks now. The man who steps out from the shadows however Derek doesn't recognize as one of the Argents. Unless this bastard is a hired lackey they paid to capture Derek.

 "Good, you're awake." The man says. He is dressed in a simple t-shirt with a jacket and jeans. He looks like he is around his mid thirties, his brown hair was trimmed short in a typical military fashion. Derek didn't say a word, realizing he's been handcuffed which he could easily break free of. He needs to wait though to see just who this guy is and why he has taken Derek.

 "I'm surprised it was easy to capture such a dangerous criminal such as yourself. You've evaded the police fkr a good while only to just show yourself out in public like you did."

 "I wish I was on duty when I spotted you, that being the reason why I had to take you like I did." The guy says.

 "So, you're a cop then?" Derek asks. 'Good, he isn't a hunter then.' Derek thought. It also explains the man's clean cut boring look that most law enforcement seem to wear.

 "Officer Daniels. The man who brought in the top suspect of a mass murder spree Derek Hale." Daniels sounds smug as he speaks.

 Derek can't help but let out a small laugh as he looks at Daniels with a smirk.

 "It seems you're out of the loop officers. I was cleared of those charges when they found the real murder." Derek says and enjoys the look on Daniels face when he tells him. 

 "You're lying." Daniels says. He turns his back to Derek and sees him on his phone. No doubt checking to make sure Derek was telling the truth.

 "Fuck!" He hears the older man say, and Derek laughs.

 "Seems you put yourself in an interesting position, officer. You thought you captured a criminal when you just kidnapped an innocent man. I'm guessing you wanted credit for bringing a dangerous criminal in for what, brownie points for a promotion? Surely when I get out of here and report you for what you did you'll be lucky to keep your job." Derek says. Taking pride in how the older man glares angrily at him.

 For a few moments Daniels just stands there visibly seething in anger. Nomdoubt he is thinking how he didn't boost his career but ruined it for what he did in taking Derek. 

 "You may be innocent, but I can still use you to get ahead in my career. I just need to make you into a criminal is all." Daniels says with a sinister grin.

 "How so?" Derek asked. Baffled by what Daniels said.

 "I told myself I would never use my family's gift. I wanted to separate myself from that world," he says with disdain. "But with desperate measures like this I can make an exception." Daniels says.

 Derek is confused by what the older man means. That is till he can sense the strong feeling of magic fill the room. Daniels eyes glow an inhuman orange and a bright aura emits from his hands. 

 "Your." Derek doesn't get to finish what he is saying before Daniels' magic envelops around him. Derek breaks the handcuffs and tries to make a run for it, but the magic is already flowing through him and makes him stagger on his feet. 

 "What are you?" Derek growls, his eyes flicker from his normal hazel eye color to beta blue before his glowing blue eyes disappear as his werewolf side hismstripped away from him. Derek fills hollow from losing such an important part of himself, all because of this pathetic officer trying to use Derek to get ahead in his career. 

 Rage bubbles within Derek and he turns to face the man who took a large part of who Derek was from him.

 "You bastard, you fucking worthless pig!" Derek snarls. He clenches his head as it throbs and pounds sending small tremors of pain through him.

 Moments tick by and Derek's body burns from his muscles expanding in size. Hard earned muscles bulging in a matter of moments. It being as if Derek spends so much time hitting the gym to work and maintain such an impressive physique. 

 "You think your tough shift huh? Cause you blindsided me the way you did and brought me here?" Derek goes on to say. His legs ached with newly formed muscle filling his legs out on top of his legs getting longer to make the former werewolf a few inches taller. 

 Derek's mind was in a haze from a mix of different thoughts and emotions filling his head that he didn't know what to do in the moment but kept talking as if he did.

 "You're just a pathetic pig, a dull lackey and nothing more. You can't bring me down, many have tried and every one of them failed." Derek's voice grew raspy and deeper in tone. His voice was foreign to his own ears but he didn't show any sort of reaction to it. 

 Derek's hair trimmed shorter, becoming a simple buzzed over style while his stubble shaved away to leave just a dusting shadow of facial hair along his altering jawline. His jaw which took a more defined and chiseled look. His cheeks filled out, hismnose growing a little wider, his eyebrows trim down to not be as thick as they once were. 

 Standing there now no one would ever have thought this scowling man was once Derek Hale. The man the former werewolf had became sneers at Daniels with a menacing look as handcuffs reappear around his wrists while his mind is flooded with a new persona.

His clothes rapidly changed on his new body. The old tattered rags that ripped and tore at the seams during his growth became something new to fit his new self.

Damon Harris stared at the officer with a cold calculated gaze. How foolish, he thought. It was humorous that that pathetic excuse for a man thought he could bring in a criminal mastermind like Damon in. Damon was not only good looking with an impressive body, but he was also a genius with a seductive charm which he shamelessly used to get out of being arrested.

By sleeping with the officers who tried to arrest him Damon often used it as blackmail to get the men to drop the charges and thus making him walk out a free man each time.

This buffoon would be no different, just another bitch for Damon to seduce and fuck till the weak man's dick his dry of any cum. Damon puts on his signature charming look. Before he could even utter a single word to the officer however Damon feels suddenly drowsy. He stumbles on his feet, sputtering over his words before he falls to his knees and then falls to the ground fast asleep thanks to the sleep spell Daniels just casted on him.

"I no doubt made you into a more dangerous criminal than what you were excused for, so best to not take any chances with you till I get you to the station." Daniels says to Damon's sleeping form.

It was a paint in the ass to get the hulking man into his car, but he thinks how this, everything he did tonight will make it all worth it when he gets the promotion for bringing in one of their most sought after and elusive criminals.

"I'd say sorry for doing this, but that would be a lie." Daniels says smugly while he lifts Damon's sleeping body up and struggles to carry him up the stairs and out to his car. Once he has Damon in the back seat of his cruiser, Daniels takes a moment to collect himself. He is due to start his shift soon, he still needs to get dressed in his uniform so he quickly heads inside to do that.

He isn't aware of his magic being absorbed by Damon. The void that was left from when Damon was Derek and a werewolf takes in the lingering magic from Daniels' spells clung to the criminal. Giving him his own type of hidden power that would grow within him.

Damon wakes up when Daniels returns. The criminal thrashes in his handcuffs and demands to be set free, but Daniels ignores him and drives them to the station. He is already picturing the praise he will receive when he walks in with a handcuffed Damon.

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"You may bring me in but I won't get charged. You can believe I will track you down once I'm out and make you sorry you every crossed paths with me." Damon tells Daniels in a low threatening voice as he gets escorted into the police station.

"With what we have you charged with I doubt you get out from behind bars anytime soon." Daniels laughed.

Damon clenches his jaw and sneers at the whispering officers who look at him. He won't stand for this. He refuses to be taken down so easily by a chump you used cheap tricks to capture him. Damon was a criminal mastermind, a genius Adonis. He refuses to be carted off like some common criminal like this.

"Now sit here while I get started on your processing paperwork." Daniels says smugly after he secures Damon in a holding cell.

"This isn't over! You haven't seen the last of me!" Damon calls out to Daniels retreating back. He curses and paces in his cell, thinking of how he can get out of this one. His interrupted by the door opening, he turns around and sees Sheriff Stilinski walk in. Damon rolls his eyes, the older man has been a thorn in his side for a while now and Damon is sure the Sheriff has come here to gloat about him finally being caught.

He notices how tired the older man looks, a mischievous idea forms in Damon's head while he watches Stilinski approach his cell.

"I'd like to see how you weasel your way out of this one Damon." Stilinski says.

"I'm sure you would, old man." Damon says. Loving the way Stilinski bristles at that.

"You look tired Sheriff, working long shifts again? Surely the pristine Sheriff of our beloved town knows when not to push himself too much in his work. After all, you're older now so you should be taking it easy." Damon chuckles.

"Watch Damon, I'm not that old." Stilinski says.

"Oh of course Sir." Damon says in a low raspy voice. He starts working his charm on the older man, flashing him a smile and leans close to the bars as he speaks to Stilinski.

"You do so much work for this town and do you get any recognition, any reward?" He asked.

"It's my job, I don't need a reward for doing what is right." Stilinski says.

"Yes, but surely with all you do you should get a reward." Damon says. "If a small one." He winks.

"Are you flirting with me?" Stilinski asked, taken aback.

"Depends Sheriff." Damon purrs. "If you can handle a young stud like me." He goes on to say and then rubs his impressive sized bulge. Stilinski's eyes follow Damon's movements and the criminal knows he has the Sheriff eating out of the palm of his hands now.

Men like Sheriff Stilinski who are overworked and tired are so much easier to seduce Damon's learned.

"I don't know what you're trying to accomplish here Damon but I won't be like those other officers you seduced and made lose their jobs." Sheriff Stilinski says.

"This is different this time Sheriff. No one is around to see us. With you being in charge you can easily erase the security footage that shows us having a little fun." Damon persuades.

"If it makes you feel better you won't even have to let me out of the cell." Damon added. The criminal then frees his fat cock from his pants. Gripping his palm around the base of his shaft. Damon's eyes lock onto the older officer's and he can see the turmoil Sheriff Stilinski is in from the look on his face as he mulls over what to do.

"Don't keep me waiting Noah. Who knows if you'll ever get another chance to have a taste of this." Damon teases. He grins widely when Sheriff Stilinski hesitates and then gets on his knees. Damon gets closer to the bars and sticks his cock through the opening towards the Sheriff.

"Go on Noah, don't keep me waiting." Damon insists. With another moment of hesitation Noah leans forward and tentatively takes Damon's cock into his mouth.

"See? Not so hard was it?" Damon asked. He gently thrusts his hips forward into Noah's mouth, pushing his dick further into the older man's mouth. His hands stick out through the bars and cradles Noah's head in his hands. Rubbing the older man's head soothingly while Noah continues to suck him off.

Damon would tease the older officer for being such a good cock slut, only he feels a strange sensation coming over him. He remains silent, a frown on his face while his body starts to get itchy. Damon doesn't know the residual magic from Daniels' spells is flowing through him and into Noah now. The magic making the two men become intertwined with each other filling their heads with a false reality of the two of them together.

Fueling Noah's loneliness while also granting Damon's desire to be free from his incoming imprisonment. Thus triggering Damon to undergo a second transformation. This one happens more rapidly than the first, making Damon fall into a dazed trance state so he doesn't even get to react to his metamorphosis into a new man.

Damon's hair starts to cascade down from his head as the Criminal begins to lose his hair. His hairline thinning out while more of his dark colored hair recedes into his scalp till he is left bald.

Damon's hard earned physique loses some definition and tone so he isn't as muscular anymore but still remains in good shape. Dark bristles of body hair sprout and grow along his torso, stopping just along his abdomen. Damon groans, his eyes glazed over, he thrusts his hips forward. His body moving on it sown to fuck Noah's mouth to plunge his cock deeper into the Sheriff's mouth. Damon can feel how full his balls are, desperate to release his thick load.

Damon's handsome face matures while it shifts into the face of an older man with rugged looks. Damon's dusting of stubble thickening into a fuller beard. His clothing rapidly alters on him to match the similar beige uniform as Noah Stilinski wears.

Damon no longer recalls his life as a criminal mastermind. Instead his head is full of new memories of being an upstanding officer of the law. Damon's own name is fleeting from his mind. His new persona taking root to complete his transformation.

Officer Darren Stilinski's eyes refocused as he awakened. An orange hue flashes over his eyes before that fades to his normal green color. Darren rubs his hand through his husband's hair as the room shifts around them. Placing them in Noah's office rather than the holding cell.

"After all these years together and you're still the needy cockslut you were when we met at the academy." Darren chuckles.

Noah looks up and is startled for a brief moment when he sees the new man, but his mind quickly catches up and he relaxes. Now he recalls this man as his partner, on the force and at home. Two wedding bands materialize on the two men's fingers while Darren fucks Noah's mouth with a few more thrusts before finally unloading his thick load of come into his lover's mouth. He pulls out a little bit after that, letting Noah lick any left over come from his thick dick head before Darren fixes his pants.

"That was fun." Noah says as he gets to his feet.

"Is it a surprise when you have such a stud for a husband?" Darren teases.

"You're so full of yourself." Noah chuckles.

"I know, it's why you love me so much." Darren grins and kisses Noah. His hands coming around to knead Noah's ass. The two officers stand there in Noah's office kissing when the door opens and Daniels walks in looking frazzled.

"Sir we have an issue. I brought in a dangerous criminal and now he." Daniels trails off when he notices the other officer with the Sheriff. He freezes for a moment as realization hits him and he sputters over his words.

"Yes?" Noah asked.

"You were saying something son?" Darren adds.

"N-nothing, sorry to trouble you both." Daniels settles on saying before he quickly leaves.

"That was odd." Noah says and turns to Darren.

"We can worry about him later. Right now I believe we are still on break so why don't we use it to have a little more fun." Darren suggests, pulling Noah closer to him for another kiss. Before they can continue Noah's phone buzzes, and with a heavy sigh the Sheriff answers it.

"Stiles is here to see you. Do I let him back?" The receptionist says.

"Yeah, send him back." Noah answers and hangs up.

"Our son is here." Noah says.

"Of course he is. I love him, but he has the worst timing." Darren chuckles.

"Yeah, but at least we can continue this when we get home." Noah says.

"Oh I intend to, and do a lot more to you." Darren promises. He has a flash of forigen thoughts in his head for a brief moment. He recalls what feels like two separate sets of memories in his head, but before he could focus on what they mean he quickly forgets them. He then just feels affection for his husband and their son just as Stiles opens the door.

Stiles pauses when he sees his dad and another officer around his dad's age holding hands and looking like they're close to kissing. The scene throws Stiles off and the young man is baffled over what the hell he just walked in on before reality catches up to him.

He recalls the new officer as his dad. Remembering growing up with two fathers and how much he loves his dads.

"Jeez, can't you two wait to get home to do this?" Stiles teases.

"So you can interrupt us there too?" Darren jokes, walking up and pulling his son in for a hug. Neither of them recalling who Darren was once before his transformations.

#Transformation #mental change #personality change #officer #cop #age progression #daddy

[sweettodo]

I need longer than 7 minutes ⟿ Eren Jaeger x femreader [pt . 1]

Includes : swearing, making out, alcohol, lime, consumption, insinuation of marijuana [small reference].

Word count : 3,1k

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This’ll be a few parts, this is my lil re-creation. I tried to make it original, but I give creds to the person who originally wrote 7 minutes, she surly will be with us forever; I’ll never forget that story :D

••

You run home from your last lecture in the English building; bag swinging and hitting your back while you sprinted across campus.

You didn’t expect to be held back twenty minutes after class; all because you got a B- on group work, your incompetent ‘buddies’ who had to help- didn’t. You did it all, in a week. Thankfully your professor had kept it somewhat short with you; letting you know you weren’t going to have to redo it.

That was besides the point though; you needed to get to the fraternity house, now. You had promised Jean and Connie you would help clean the house before people arrived. As you near the house, you pant, throat dry and your chest burns from running, your leggings made you sweat like a madman.

Running up the porch and fumbling with the doorknob, you swing open the door and see Connie, frantically grabbing cups from shelves and coffee tables, throwing them in a giant black bag and he begins shouting when you’re tossing your bag on the couch and tying your hair up, “What the fuck y/n!” He whines, “you know I don’t clean for shit!” He hollers, you snag the bag from him and he smiles childishly and plops onto the couch. Little shit. You pick up where he left off, dragging garbage by the arm into the bag.

“Maybe if you knew how to clean-” you start, Jean comes down the stairs, only in a towel, you roll your eyes, looking back at Connie, “maybe if you two got off your dead asses, you wouldn’t need me to clean for you.” You growl, steam practically flying from your ears, looking back at Jean, with that silly smile on his stupid face.

“You live here too.” Jean teasingly cackles, you huff and charge towards him, shoving a finger in his face. He looks down at you with a smug smile on his face.

“Used to- it’s not my fault I had no idea college relationships don’t work out.” He sticks his tongue out at you and ruffles your hair, stepping back and strutting away in his low hung towel.

‘I don’t get paid enough for this.’ You mumbled under your breath.

He turns a head before walking towards the staircase, “pshh, you used to be over here every day with Connie! doing whatever toxic couples do. And look at you, still here for him.” He teases, Connie laughs, throwing his head back and standing up, walking towards the kitchen.

“That’s because she still loves me.” He sneers, you drop the bag on the floor and head towards your bag, swinging it over your shoulder. The boys start towards you, begging for you to stay, “I didn’t mean it! Please help.” Connie begs, you comply and place your bag down once more.

“Yeah let me get dressed and I’ll help! Don’t leave us! Please.” Jean implores, quickly running up the stairs, followed by hearing a door shut. You continue cleaning up the downstairs rooms, cleaning what needed to be disenfected so on so forth. Jean did in fact help you, while Connie prepared the bar, and drank half of it while he was at it.

Finally stepping in front of the door, taking a gander at the clean and organized house, surfaces cleaned and dusted, the garbage needed to be emptied a total of twelve times by the time you were done.

You though- you were proud at the work you’ve done, disappointed at the fact you knew it would only stay like this for not even two hours, knowing this house would be full of kids like every weekend, “let me go back and get ready, I’ll be back in a little.” Before they get a chance to say anything, your ass is out the door and walking down the sidewalk to the neighboring dorms, the sun slowly disappearing, the skin turning a milky pastel pink and orange. Students walked, groups of people skateboarding, while most conversed amongst each other. You scurried into the dormitories where you resided and headed for the elevator, pressing it a few times before quickly opening, you step in and slam your two fingers on the floor of your room.

Finally reaching your floor, your feet quickly move down the hall, unlocking your door and slipping in, Historia sits in her desk chair, doing work, “hey Historia, wanna tag along?” You’re throwing your shirt off your head followed by your leggings, you two had changed in front of each other so many times, neither payed any mind.

“No, I’m behind on an essay, I’ll come next weekend I promise.” She pleads, you smile and wave your hand in the air dismissively while standing there half naked.

“Please! You know it doesn’t hurt my feelings, I just don’t want you crammed in here all the time by yourself, it’s unhealthy.” Hands deep in your drawers, you’re looking for a dress, she lets out a sigh of relief and drops her pen on her textbook, standing and walking towards me, opening another drawer.

“I know what dress you gotta wear!” She sings, you follow her hands, fingers strolling down the neatly folded clothes within her clothes drawer. She rips out a black bodycon dress which wasn’t longer than mid knee, with a nice dip in the v-line.

Graciously taking it from her hands, a small gasp and smile planted on your mouth as you slip it over your feet and thighs, shimmying your arms into the strings. Historia had quite a delectable taste of fashion, she had worn and worked every style she’s come across, “you look hot.” She places a love tap on your ass and you stick your tongue out, taking a good look at yourself in the mirror, turning around to look at your body.

Releasing your hair from the hair tie, you shake your hair out and brush it. Being cautious you’d run late again, Historia is picking out a perfume and matching lotion, spritzing you and you take the lotion out of her hands, squeezing the sweet flower smell into your legs and arms, “thanks roomie, please, reconsider; come with me.” You plead one last time, she shoves me playfully and points to her textbook.

“Next weekend, go. Don’t make Connie mad by being late.” You groan and slipping your feet into black platforms.

“You’ll regret saying that, I don’t like Connie.” You shut the door behind you. Walking back towards that elevator.

The sky was pretty much dark at this point, the party was twenty minutes from starting, and you had just walked through the front door as Connie was swinging it open, letting people know they could come in, a few boys sat on the couch. Jean could be seen pouring drinks for himself and probably his friends. “I knew I heard y/n!!” Jean cheers, jogging over to me and scanning his eyes up and down my figure, “looking- uh, sexy.” He coughs, shaking his head and the little bit of pink brushes his cheeks, handing me one of his drinks.

Marco leaps over the couch and jumps towards Jean, leisurely throwing an arm over his shoulder, “maybe you’ll finally get a piece tonight,” he nudges, you smack Marco upside the head and he mutters swears under his breath, pulling off of his friend, Jean rolls his eyes and takes a gulp of his drink, cocking an eyebrow.

“Who says I haven’t hit already.” Before the boys can even react, your knee meets his groin, kicking him, he screeches and falls to his knees, the room stays silent for the most part besides laughing, “alright! I haven’t hit it yet- Jesus y/n!” He hissed, rolling back onto his feet and practically limping out of the room. I turn around to see if the others got the warning, but instead see two boys standing at the front door, both staring at me with wide eyes and interested looks.

Both were tall; one blonde haired which covered his forehead, keen blue eyes, the other wore baggy sweats, a black short sleeve shirt, his hair was messily pulled back. You stand there like a ditz, kinda humiliated.

“Here- Eren, Armin.” Jean is coming from behind you, handing these men drinks, patting Eren’s shoulder all ‘buddy - buddy’ as they walk deeper into the house, you shake off the intense vibe you felt from the two and drink more of the flavored vodka. Your ears suddenly perk up like a dog when you hear Jean’s loud mouth from the kitchen, “oh that’s y/n, isn’t she just a gem? my nuts still hurt.” He laughs, the slight hint of sarcasm in his remark, you swing around and walk into the kitchen, interjecting yourself in their conversation; the three chat it up, Jean’s eyes land on yours and smiles like a brat.

You poke Jean in the side and smile at whichever Armin and Eren were, “Isn’t Kirsten so peachy, this is why I love him.” You giggle, the boys in front of you laugh; both absolutely stunning bright smiles, you could get used to their faces around here. You also wondered where they came from.

“Oh, to be Jean’s nuts right now.” The dark haired one jokes, arising laughter amongst the three boys. Your eyes practically fall out of their sockets, an immediate halt of poking Jean’s side, the little ball stood out, you were absolutely thrown off any train of thought you had. People start filling the kitchen, you were so frozen in feelings you looked so ridiculous, shaking it off with a little smile, you needed to flirt back, he started it.

“And don’t I wish I was that tongue piercing.” It was now their turn to be frozen in shock, the blonde one turning his head to look at the other, a little ‘Eren’ could be heard from his lips; ‘so that’s his name, he kinda looks like an Eren.’

The loud chatter and booming music has overtaken the house, it was getting harder and harder to hear a single conversation as more and more people filled the house.

Jean wraps an arm around me, “I love it when she’s bold, she only gets worse the more she drinks, be careful.” Jean gives me a tight side hug and you down the rest of the liquid in the cup, I had stunned Eren into silence, Armin broke that silence with a small laugh. What Jean said was true, I had a small track record of flirtatious behavior when I had enough liquid courage.

Eren smiles at you, “so intense, let’s get them a room already.” Your eyes peel off Eren’s, Sasha stood there with a bottle in her hand, a huge smile on her face, “it’s like a staring contest over here, what’s happening guys?!” She hollers over the music, poking my boob a few times, you swat her finger off your tit and she giggles, hiccuping, she was much more intoxicated than yourself.

“I was just getting more to drink, gimme gimme’” you snatch the bottle out of your friends hand and pop open the cap, “I hope to see you all later, I plan on us all playing a little spin the bottle or something.” You swallow, Armin tilts his head and looks at you.

“Isn’t that for high schoolers?” He asks, a smile on his face, you lean in close, your head right between both Eren’s and Armin’s ears, they subconsciously lean in to hear what I have to say.

“With a twist.” You hum, pulling away and following Sasha towards the basement stairs, personal tequila bottle in tow and ready to drink.

An hour later you’re faltering towards the couches and sliding down onto your wobbly knees, Connie and Jean rounding up the people we are closest too in the basement, dizzy and laughing at practically every little thing in sight, Sasha and Mikasa sat to your left and right, equally or less drunk as yourself.

Our friend group sits on the floor in a giant circle and you stand, “okay my friends, I figured we could do a little something different this weekend.” You announce, the room falling somewhat quiet as they listen to you, “we’re gonna play spin the bottle, but instead of just regular old spin the bottle, if one spins and it lands on the other, they can head into the closet for seven minutes, but when your turn comes again, or that person that you went into the closet with previously, you go into the bedroom for a timed thirty minutes. No backing out.” You didn’t even catch Eren making himself comfortable next to Jean and Marco, Armin sitting on the couch behind Connie also planning on participating.

Eren had noticed you though, standing there with that half empty bottle and your tight dress, your messy makeup which he found beyond sexy. He couldn’t stop thinking about how you told him you wished he was his piercing, no girl had ever been so outgoing and bold. Although he was slightly stoned, and definitely drunk, he couldn’t rip his eyes off you; he sat on the ground intrigued, “I’ll do the first spin.” Sasha gushes, grabbing the empty beer bottle and giving it a strong spin.

It spins and spins, you sat pretty on your knees and wait for it to land on someone; an eternity later it’s pointing between Mikasa and Jean. He was jumping onto his feet in an instant, you knew Jean so well that it was impossible for him to act cool, he was freaking the fuck out. Mikasa stands and pushes Jean towards the closet, he stumbles, drunkenly tripping over his feet and we all laugh at him, they go in and I set a timer, starting it immediately.

We all talk and laugh, Connie and Marco had their ears pressed against the door like perverts, “hey pervs! Quit it you two!” Sasha shouts, they leap away from the door and soon enough the ringing plays to signify the end of the long 7 minutes, you stand and knock on the door, Jean comes out first, dizzy and face flustered, totally beyond repair. Then Mikasa following behind him, perfectly fine but with a domineering smirk plastered on her face. We cheer and Jean plops down on the ground, the boys patting and laughing, congratulating him.

I go, spinning the bottle and anticipating the stop, when it finally comes to a stop, my eyes follow the top of the bottle stopped right between the legs of Connie and Eren, seeing both staring at me, ‘ooh’s’ and laughing fill up the room, there was no way I was going into that room with Connie. “Rock paper scissors!” Jean shouts, I slap my hands over my face in embarrassment, my luck I’d be stuck with Connie who would probably just start a fight with me.

You peek your eye through your fingers and see the two boys play it out to see who would get to go into the closet with me.

Connie one- Eren two.

Your hands drop into your lap, feeling lightweight, almost like you were floating, a mixture of both anxiety and excitement flickering in your stomach, he was so intimidating and you felt tiny in front of him- in all honesty, flirting was one thing. You stand up hesitantly and walk towards the closet, his body blocking you from being able to see your friends one last time. He shuts the door and wastes no time looping his arm around my waist, pulling me into his rock hard chest, looking up at him and begin to gnaw on your bottom lip as he cops a feel of your ass; his strong hand groping your ass, hand rubbing and squeezing, “eager are we?” You tease, he hums and continues.

You were spiraling under his strength. He walks both of you backwards until your back is hitting the wall, dipping his head down to your ear, “what happened to the tough guy act?” He purrs, you shiver, his hand moving from your ass and down your thigh slowly, “you wanna kiss me?” He asks quietly, forehead pressed against yours, you respond with a little nod, his lips instantly meeting yours, your eyes shut and it only becomes more messy as seconds pass, his hand that was once on your thigh was now separating them, sliding his thigh in place between your legs; pinning you. While his thigh sat between yours, you could feel the growing erection poking your leg; which he paid no mind, this was about you. His left hand behind your neck, thumb caressing back and fourth on your jawline softly whilst fixing his right hand back on your ass, pulling you impossibly closer to him.

His body was warm, nose drinking up his vanilla scent, he tasted good, vodka completely soaked your tastebuds, the faint aroma of weed could be tasted in your nostrils from his clothes. Your hands loosely around his waist feeling up his back muscles only slightly.

The metal bud on his tongue keeping you enticed, colliding with your own tongue, it was like a little magic ball that could instantly have you on your knees; sparking these new and mysterious sparks within your body which you wanted more of. It was fun to play with.

He slowly pulls away, a string of saliva dragging from his lips to yours, he licked his lips, you kept your eyes on that piercing like an owner holding his pets treats in his hand, “I need more than seven minutes.” He grunts, your swollen lips begging for his again.

You were going feral, the tips of your fingers teasingly touching the hem of his sweatpants, feeling his boxers underneath, “you’re a good kisser Eren, wonder what else you’re good at, hm?” You whisper in his ear, he was tense, body still latches onto yours so you could feel the flexing of his muscles.

“I would tear yo-” our heads snap to the side, the knocking on the closet door, that was seven? Already? He pulls off of you, immediately feeling cold, your hand coming to your mouth so you can wipe it and somewhat look composed. Like nothing happened, he’s swinging the door open and cockily walking out, you walked out beside him, the girls overwhelmed with cheery grins and jaws hitting the floor, the boys ‘oohing’.

“Was it good?” Mikasa questions, tugging at your arm so you could sit in your spot, you look at her with devilish eyes.

“I’m taking that as a yes, he looks high and mighty don’t he?” Sasha chuckles, you glance at Eren who is looking at you with low, seductive eyes. You gulp and explode, looking at the floor and feeling like all eyes were on you.

“Next person!” Jean shouts. We all prepare for ourselves for the next round.

Fifteen minutes later, after Marco and Sasha had completely demolished each other’s necks in the closet, plus Connie and a random girl spending an odd eleven minutes in the closet after we all pounded on the door to get them out; God knows what they did in that closet. You look for who’s turn it was next; it was finally Eren’s turn to spin.

You were rather... irritated; he was gonna get to please some girl with his mouth the same way I was so blessed to have bestowed upon me. You drink from the bottle, drowning your new attitude. Now everyone is shock, leaping to their feet and jumping around like teenagers, you look around and Eren is walking towards your sitting body, your messy and drunken eyes looking up at him confused, “looks like we get our thirty minutes.” He smirks, your eyes bulge and you quickly stand to your feet, what luck!

Walking down the small hall of the basement, your back only barely touching his front side as he’s pushing himself through the doorframe, you push the door shut with your foot and pick up right where you left off.

“I’ll need more than thirty minutes.” You stand in shock at him ripping his shirt off his head. His finger touching your chin before being able to stare at his body, “get on your back princess.” He starts, gently pushing your back onto the bed.

“I need to taste you, please.”

#eren yeager #7 minutes eren #eren jaeger #attack on titan #aot x reader #eren aot #lime

[gojology]

Job Benefits (Part Three)

broken routines - chapter three.

you can find part two here : 

part two : undesirable pairing : ceo! gojo x female reader warnings : cursing wordcount : 1442 a/n : im highly disappointed with this but im very hyped abt writing part 4 and uh i need to change my writing style sooner or later wtf is this mess LOL

     If there’s one thing Gojo knows more then his own body, it’s routines.       It’s what he grew up around, coming from such a bustling family. Since he learned how to walk, he had attended many interviews, gone to parties, all in one day. Of course, it was commonplace in his already hectic life. He saw routine in everything.      Imagine his shock when you came into the office in an outfit that differed so greatly from your regular one that his jaw might unhinge and fall off.      He can’t wrap his head around why, but he’s utterly confused as to why you changed this up. Was it permanent, and why the change? He had many questions going through his head. This is one of the many negative traits Gojo Satoru has; he thinks his input is important, even though the majority of time it is... Maybe it was somewhat justified. But he doesn’t realize how unnecessary it comes out to be when no one asked.      No one had ever told him no, of course they hadn’t, he was ranked nationally as an important kid due to his wit and charismatic personality, essential for entering the business industry.     When he opened his mouth to speak, even at 8 years old at his parent’s conferences, the old professionals would all look at him, keenly waiting for his orders, or perhaps his opinion. This was what he grew up having; so naturally he didn’t know any boundaries, nor did he know when to close his mouth.      But that’s besides the point, he thoroughly enjoyed the look on you.     He takes his normal trip down the hallway into your office, humming a tune, a messy stack of papers in one hand, a custom ceramic mug in the other; made personally just for him. He expects to see you in your regular outfit, a pencil skirt, white t-shirt, the short clicky heels, and the black blazer. It certainly made for an excellent example of casual, formal attire.      Unexpectedly, you’re not. You’re calling someone, phone perched delicately on your shoulder almost as if it’s supposed to slip out, your hair framing your face. Lips parting as you start responding to whatever is on the opposite side, and he notices an evident gloss, your lips are a different color too.      You glance up at him and gesture to your phone, and his hands are shoved deep into his pockets, taking this extra time to examine you up and down. White turtleneck, layered alongside a slightly unbuttoned dress shirt with a crisp warm toned brown trench coat. Not too long, not too short.       Simple gold jewelry adorned your neck, and his eyes caught onto the gold bracelet that jingled on your arm as you swayed it around; he kinda found it cute how even when the person you were talking to wasn’t in front of you, you were still so animated.      Gojo can’t see your pants nor your shoes, but he’s about to enter cardiac arrest because truthfully he didn’t expect that you knew how to dress.     “What?” you say, words dripping with venom and menace, putting the phone back down. He’s taken aback, what’s with the tone?      “What do you mean, what, (Y/N)?” giving you a shit eating grin, he takes a step closer to your table.     “Answer my question, I asked first.” you shot back, now crossing your legs, you hope you look bored just to add more insult to injury. The guy deserved it for thinking the world revolved around him.      He doesn’t answer, instead staring at you, setting his cup of coffee onto the already crowded tabletop, slightly hunched over. You feel your heart drop. Fuck, maybe seeking some sort of symbolic revenge against your boss wasn’t the best of ideas.    Actually, none of your ideas were the best last night. Naturally you’d only think up disasters when you were under distress.     “What’s with the new outfit? Buy a new fashion sense on Amazon?” he finally inquires, a tinge of sarcasm in his voice, brushing your... Rude words aside.      You shrug, pulling out your planner from the drawer and mumbling, biting your pen before writing inside, they’re mindless words. You hope your acting is good, because you want to cry again even at the slight sound of those words. “I don’t know, I felt like I would try something different.” Fuck, were was the sass? Why did you answer nervously? Why did you feel so scared?      There was obviously something that you wanted to do rather then chit chat with him, and Gojo’s now unoccupied hand rubs his neck, this was suddenly so awkward, even for someone as lively as him.     “Hm. Right. Anyways, these were in the printer.” he slaps the freshly printed lukewarm pages onto your desk. “Figured these were yours, still had your name on them.”      “Ah. Thanks.” you say before yawning, covering your mouth before sliding the papers back into the drawer behind you- as if you had no care for them. Actually, you didn’t. This was apart of your master plan that you had crafted at 1 AM last night, too exhilarated to rest. You would print papers out in Gojo’s printer, which you had used once in a while prior so it wouldn’t be too suspicious, and since Gojo never left the dang office he’d hear the sounds and return them to you.       Both of you were silent again, and he’s debating between hitting you up with a topic of conversation, perhaps a joke, but you seem so uninterested he’s not sure if it’s the right moment.      “Just to let you know- your lunch break is in 10 minutes.” he adds, whistling to try to appear careless, but he could feel his heart sinking. You were acting unusually cold, no dramatic tantrums from you that he usually loved. In fact, that was the whole reason why he liked coming to your office. That, and the cute stationary.     “Ah! Really?” you make sure to act like you just got a ticket to heaven, just as a petty way of saying, “Hey. You’re boring. I want to get out.” and Gojo’s pretty sure that all the contents of his heart was shattered now.       Hmph. Whatever, if you continued this behavior he’d swear he’d fire you, but even he knows that’s not true. He had grown fond about you over the small amount of time that you had worked as his secretary, besides, what was a good work life if you didn’t have a good relationship with your very own secretary? He’s sure his banter doesn’t affect you.     “Yeah.” he says, now quiet. He turns his back on you, pausing for a quick moment before walking out, not before he bangs the top of his forehead against the door frame, which earned a slight groan out of him, and just like that he left. You still hear the faint clicking against the tile floor from his shoes.       You exhaled a sigh you didn’t know you were holding, twirling your office chair to look at the large window pane behind your desk. This was something you admired about the architecture of the building you worked out. Every single office had a large window facing Tokyo, so late working hours would always involve beautiful city lights and the bustling of night life.       The sun and sky was bright and cheery, and it comforted your frazzled body. Today wasn’t as bad as yesterday, but it still felt strange from not having your daily ridiculous conversation with Gojo- and strangely you missed it.       Instilled with energy and motivation, you stand up, pulling your bento out of your bag, determined to go through with the rest of your plan. You knew Gojo had a good friend that worked here, Keto Sugareu or something like that. You’d have lunch with him, work your feminine charms, and that was that.       It wasn’t like you wanted to, but a part of you so desperately wanted to prove to Gojo that you could be smart, witty, yet sexy at the same time. You weren’t a prude- just someone not as exposed to these lifestyles.     But you didn’t really eat your lunch in the break room, rather, you were almost always in your very own office. If you weren’t found in there, it’d either be the bathroom or conspiring to steal Gojo’s luxury coffee machine at your house. Infact, you’re not even quite sure if you remember how it looks like.    “Whatever.” you mumble to yourself, before scooping up your utensils and napkins and heading out for the break room.      You shouldn’t have ever stepped foot into that cursed hellish room that day.

nice to see u down here, u want chapt 4? too bad. just kidding! here, have at it.  chapter four : conspiring     

#gojo satoru #jjk #jjk fic #jujutsu kaisen #gojo #jujutsu kaisen gojo #jujutsu kaisen gojo satoru #jjk gojo satoru #gojo satoru fic #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x you #jujutsu kaisen fic #gojou satoru #gojo x reader #gojo x you #au #jjk au #anime fic #fanfiction #fanfic #gojo satoru scenario #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x y/n

[the-mad-starker]

Starker Fic: Untitled Royalty AU

So I was looking through my old drafts and this one was from June 2018 when I just started exploring Starker. Before that, I was writing for MCU ships and HP, and I've decided to post this because it's been two years since it was written and it feels like a whole other person wrote it. I think my writing style has changed? And I'm not entirely sure if it's for the better haha

Just felt like sharing, this is more of a tease and I doubt I'll ever get more in since I feel like my writing has changed 

WC: 1500

Summary:

Royalty AU. Tony is the King, Peter is his manservant. Tony is clearly in power and Peter has no choice but to obey his king.

Obadiah Stane insists that it is time for the beloved King Anthony Stark to marry. For Tony, who has rarely involved himself in the politics besides wearing the crown, that means no more parties, no more lovers being brought into his bed.

But to distract the golden goose from seeing its cage, Stane gives the king a pretty new toy, a new manservant named Peter to satisfy all his needs while the search for a suitable partner begins. But Peter, despite being low born, is the catalyst, the change that wakes Tony from the beautiful dream that Stane created.

💗💗💗

The weight of the crown was settled on Anthony Edward Stark’s head at an early age. It was much too heavy and so, the late King’s advisor and trusted friend took some of the burden from the young prince’s shoulders.

In time, King Anthony Stark’s worries became less and less. He was free to pursue his passions, following the footsteps of his father. As an inventor, Anthony Stark brought to life all these marvelous and terrible creations on paper. Weapons the world had never seen.

And his hands, the hands of a blacksmith even with a crown upon his brow, forged into creation these great and terrible monstrosities.

The Kingdom of Stark flourished from its King’s dreams, bringing in fortune and security to the country. King Stark sat on his throne and by his side, his ever faithful advisor whispering into his ears of all the adorations paid upon him by his people.

The people of Stark who cherished the beloved son of late King Howard, the Iron Prince, and now they loved and adored him as their king.

It seemed to the king that his life would continue in this fashion, days filled with busy hands… Nights full of drinks and beautiful men and women while his dreams shaped the outlines of things yet to come.

It was a good life and as Tony laughed and drank on the commemoration of his birth some thirty or so years later. Tony didn't think he needed more in life. His kingdom was flourishing and his passion for creation was being exercised daily.

Yes, life was a good thing. So it came as a surprise when Obadiah spoke to him after the celebrations.

At the prime age of 35, Tony had yet to marry or sire a child. The years had passed quickly after his parents death and now, years later… this.

“We’ve held this off long enough,” Obadiah said sternly. He was stiff with wariness, expecting a fight with the Iron King for his next advisement. “The people are getting restless. With no prince or princess to succeed you, they grow more concerned every year.”

Tony sighed but his shoulders slumped in defeat. Truly, being able to avoid marriage for so long was simply a miracle. Many princes and princesses were betrothed by birth or if not that, at least an early age.

Stane had told Tony that his mother, the late Queen Maria, had wanted to wait until his majority to speak to him about marriage. And they had died a few short months before Tony turned 21.

That was the loophole that had given Tony years of borrowed time. But now that time was up, the last grains of sand trickling down the hourglass.

“I’m guessing you have a list of names for me then…?” Tony’s eyes were fixed on his hands, noting every single scar and callous that decorated them. His hands were not a nobleman’s hands, not smooth and unblemished, no. His hands were scarred and marked from his love of creating.

“I do,” Stane confirmed. “We’ll need to go over it soon. But for now… I'm sorry to say it, but I can't stress enough how important it is that your… proclivities must cease.”

Tony raised a brow in question.

“No more… dallying with others,” Stane said bluntly. “It's a miracle that we don't have any bastards running around. But it is what it is, so if the King of Stark is going to be looking for another king or queen to match, we can’t have any scandals reaching the ears of your potential partners.”

Tony’s lips quirked up. “You're asking me to abstain?”

Stane’s eyes narrowed at the smiling prince. “Yes, to put it bluntly, my King.”

“God, Obbie,” Tony laughed, a bit bitter. His days would be bereft of lovers, of soft skin and hungry kisses all because of his duty. Marriage and then children.

A heavy hand clasped his shoulder. The older man led Tony back to his room, mindful of how much drink the King had for his birthday.

Tony was only a little buzzed, but he didn't mind his old friend’s help.

“Now, Tony, please. I never ask you for anything. You know I don't, but I need this from you,” Obadiah insisted.

That was a lie. Obadiah often asked him for approvals, for his designs. Year after year, the demands would grow with more specifications but Tony would do better. No matter the requirements, Tony’s brilliant mind would come up with even better proposals. But that was the business of keeping his kingdom prosperous, his people secured against threats. It was the only thing Tony could do when his parents were murdered on route to a peaceful envoy.

So instead of bringing all that up, Tony just leaned heavily on Obadiah, giving a weary sigh. “I know, Obie.”

Besides. Despite never wanting to settle down, marriage was still sacred to Tony. His parents had had a strong marriage and despite all the flaws his father had, Queen Maria had loved him, flaws and all. Tony would be lucky if he could find someone even willing to put up with his eccentricity.

They reached his doors. There were guards positioned outside, giving Tony a bow before opening the doors.

“Now, I know I'm asking a lot of you,” Obadiah began once they were inside.

Tony had thought the matter concluded. He paused in undoing his outfit, throwing Obadiah a inquisitive look.

“That's why I got you a little present,” Obadiah smiled, a dark, almost indecent grin. It looked so out of place on his not-Uncle’s face that Tony thought that surely, the alcohol was playing tricks on him.

Even so, Tony replied with a huff of laughter. Obadiah giving Tony “little” gifts weren't unusual, the man always acted like a second father to him.

“You didn't have to,” Tony always had to say in response to such comments but of course, Obadiah waved it away.

“Come, come,” Obadiah urged, grasping him by the shoulder. Tony moved with him, his gait a little compromised but he didn't falter in his steps.

“You're taking me to my bedroom,” Tony observed then gave a wry laugh. “You better not have gotten me a courtesan, Obie.”

The older man didn't reply, didn't need to. As soon as they entered, Tony found out for himself what the present was.

Tony’s mouth went dry, head filling with confusion and indecent things. On his bed, there was a boy. No, the boy was a young man, though just barely. Lithe and slender, with skin that was the pale color of milk. Beautiful really, with such soft brown waves in his hair. His lips were soft looking and plush, such a lovely color of pink that Tony wondered for a moment if someone had painted them. But the thought was quickly dismissed as white teeth pressed down in a show of nerves. The young man was beautiful… Breathtaking But his eyes… Tony’s heart plummeted. That wasn't desire or anticipation. The young man in his bed was terrified. Large brown eyes with the longest dark lashes Tony had ever seen. And he was trembling, the blankets wrapped around his shivering form like the most inadequate shield ever made. But when stripped of his clothes and forced into a bed not of his own choosing, what else could the young man do? All hazy, lust filled thoughts disintegrated in a second. It was the most effective cure to his tipsy state. It felt like Tony had been dunked into a freezing cold lake. “What is this?” Tony demanded softly. Another friendly clap on his shoulder, Obadiah’s gruff voice sounding pleased to Tony’s ears. “This is my gift to you,” Obadiah announced proudly, “Your new manservant. Peter.”

Tony’s eyes remained fixed on the boy. He saw the way Peter flinched when he heard the title, the dirty suggestion in the title manservant.

“You can do anything you want with him, Tony,” Obadiah confided in him. “You've been needing one.”

“I don't need one,” Tony said dejectedly. Tony was more the inventor than King and the period of wakefulness were off and erratic. He wasn't going to wait for a manservant to dress him, not when his clothing would be stripped off in his lab anyway.

Obadiah’s grip tightened down, just a touch harder. “I know it won't be enough compared to having a new companion every night, but I'm giving you an out here, Tony. Use the boy, don't get caught fucking or getting fucked by others.”

The tone was firm, a no questions asked kind of tone that left Tony speechless.

“This is my gift, Tony,” Obadiah said a bit more gently. “I wouldn't ask you to abstain, I'm not out to hurt you, boy. But Stark needs this marriage and if the only way I can keep you from offending your potential prospects, then I'll do it.”

With no response from Tony, Obadiah took it as acceptance. With another friendly clap, Obadiah called out to Tony as he left, “Have a good night, Tony!’

The door shut behind him and then it was just the two alone. The King of Stark and a young man, his future bedmate.

#starker #madstarker writes #royalty au

[revisionaryhistory]

Three Days ~ 72

~*~Sebastian~*~

Yes, I gave Emma a key on her way out the door and told her to keep it. Pretty chickenshit, huh? Only it's not. I gave her a key on her way out the door and told her to keep it because it's not a big deal. There's no reason to have a conversation. I had my mom drive me to the back of the school where I put my shit in her vehicle. I knew the code and thought nothing of stowing my suitcase. I realize my apartment is different than a vehicle. Again, except it's not. The thought of her calling or, fuck, knocking on the door when she came back, did not feel right. And if I was in the shower, what was she going to do, sit outside the door and knock occasionally? Fuck no. So, I gave her a key.

The worst thing Emma would do is show up before I got home and rearrange some drawers and leave some cabinets open. Speaking of drawers, I cleared out a couple for her. The first thing I did after she left was to go into my bedroom and unpacked her suitcase, which I then shoved in the hall closet. The last time she was here I liked her things mixed in with mine. Still true. Her dresses hanging in my closet, shampoo in my shower, and the toothbrush I'd held hostage all made me smile.

Everything about Emma made me smile.

I got back to work only to be interrupted by a text from Will telling me Alissa was having lunch with Angie and Emma. Oh good, I might get to have another fun conversation. After the group chat with Alissa and Kirk I was confident that wouldn't happen. By the time we were done, I think they understood they could have fucked things up. Luckily Emma came to me. Plus, I learned how different my behavior looked to friends. Nothing I could do about that and in the end, it turned out well.

Before I knew it, I heard a key in my front door. The expected thrill from that was better than I imagined. I put everything down with a plan for her to return to my lap. Plan was blown when Emma and Angie struggled through the door carrying an obscene number of bags. So many colors, sizes, and store names on so many bags.

I stood to help, taking from one of her hands, "What the fuck did you two do?"

Emma stretched up onto her toes and kissed me, "I have a problem."

"You ran out of stores?"

"No." She glared at me. "Sometimes the stars align. Free time in the city on a beautiful day for shopping. My best friend for company and to stop me from buying a fashion faux pas. A boyfriend who has an appreciation for me in nice things. And an impending trip to France."

Angie added, "Stores with new inventory. And a tequila lunch to impair our impulse control at that adorable shop you two found."

I lined the bags up on our dance floor. "I think you two are dangerous. You don’t reign each other in."

They laughed, “Yes we do." Both waved a hand over the bags and Emma said, "This could have been much worse."

Just looking at the bags and glimpses of their contents I guessed there were many hundreds of dollars in my living room. I liked how she shopped. "Show me everything." This buying spree was all me. Show tonight, first date, and five days in Paris. "I’m excited.” Her trying on everything in a just for me fashion show would have to wait for another time.

I oohed and awwed and made cringey faces with each outfit. The pair had a similar style, with Emma's being kicked up a notch. She took more risks. "Which will you be torturing me with tonight?"

Emma stuck her tongue out with a huge grin, "Which do you want?"

I felt my dirty smirk, "You know which one." My pants felt a little tighter with just the thought.

Angie waved, "I don't."

"You'll have to wait."

Angie looked from Emma to me, "I'd warn you to be careful what you ask for, but I think you can handle the strain."

"Or die trying." I shrugged.

We sat down, laughing and talking until Angie noticed the time. "Shit."

Soundcheck at six, doors at seven, then music at eight. The second group on at ten-thirty.

"Can you get ready here and go over with us?" It made no sense for her to round trip to Brooklyn when Bowery Ballroom was ten minutes away on a bad night.

Angie looked at Emma, "Do you have shoes?"

Emma nodded.

I stood up, "Let me shower then you two can have the bedroom."

Emma stood, "I'll grab my stuff and we’ll start in the guest bath." She followed me into the bedroom, where she attempted to tackle me onto my bed. I let her. She pushed me to my back and stretched out on me. "Did you have a good day?"

First things first. I kissed her, resting my hands on her ass. "I did. Not as good as you."

"Then I will make sure you have a good night."

"That sounds fun."

Emma kissed me, her tongue seeking out mine. I left one hand on her ass and sunk the other in her hair I didn't let her go the first time she tried to push away. I wasn't ready. The second time I eased my grip and she stayed up on her arms hovering over me for several seconds. I cocked my head and pulled down my eyebrows. She smiled and lowered for a soft kiss, “I love you."

"I love you."

Emma stood up and walked to where she'd put her bag. "Umm, Sebastian?"

I'd taken off my shirt, working on my shorts, "I unpacked."

"You unpacked me?" She looked a little surprised.

"I did." I walked into the bathroom naked. "Makeup and stuff in here. Clothes in some drawers."

She followed me, "Thank you." Emma's fingers trailed down my chest, stopping below my navel.

"Would you believe me if I said I don't like bags on the floor?"

"No."

I touched my lips to hers, staying close, "Smart girl." I pulled open the shower door, "Get away from me or we'll be late."

She pinched my ass with a laugh before grabbing her stuff and leaving.

I've given up drawer space before. Having someone dig clean panties out of a suitcase after you fucked her is shitty if she's staying longer than a weekend. I didn't think giving her drawers warranted a conversation either. However, now that she's home and I'm alone in the shower my overthinking brain wonders. It would have to wait.

The ladies were dressing up, but I was not. The Bowery is a big hot room shoved full of people. When I'd been there, one side of the mezzanine was roped off for a VIP area with tables and bar service. There's no way in hell Kirk won’t have a section for friends and family for him to hold court in. Still, it's a rock show. I pulled on a pair of jeans, a dark blue t-shirt and a pair of boots. Brushed my teeth, threw some product in my hair, and prepared to evacuate the space. I yelled down the hall, "Ladies, room is yours.” I heard them gathering and coming my way. I waited until they were in the room before holding out my arms, "Do I look acceptable?"

Emma stopped with a smile, "You look wonderful."

Angie shook her head, "Uh uh, she's wearing black. You’re too dark and you’ll blend."

I wasn't a stranger to complementary dressing for a date. "The blue’s not different enough?"

"Too dark a blue. On the mezzanine it'll look black."

I looked for Emma who was sitting on the bed, "Don't look at me. I wear tour shorts to dad's shows and Jimmy wasn’t about to change from his collared shirts."

Angie laughed, "His style was pretentious asshole." She thought a second, "I'd say white for a stark contrast or a red. Even though red is darker it’s a good look. Red and black is better than navy and black."

Emma raised her hand.

Angie called on her, "Yes, Emiliana."

"Ms. Angie, I would like to vote red." Of course, she would.

Angie looked at me, "How does Mr. Seb feel about the request?"

"I feel like my girlfriend is making me her own personal eye candy." The two ladies looked at each other aghast. I snickered, "I approve because I got input on the dress." I ducked onto the closet and pulled out the exact red shirt Emma wanted. Our second date and her first visit I opened the door in it. I held it out, "Better." They nodded. I handed the red one to Angie, handed the navy one to Emma, and took the red from Angie. They were shifting eyes from each other and me. I stood there looking between them.

"Do we pay you for the strip show?" I liked Angie playing with me like I did Chris, Will, and Chace goofing off with Emma.

I shook my head, "No, but tips are appreciated." I glanced at the clock, "We need to be out in thirty minutes if we don’t want to be late."

"We'll be ready."

"You both already look beautiful.  Your clothes are in the right three drawers." Emma nodded with a smile and I leaned over on one foot to kiss her, "Love you."

Emma threw out, "Te iubesc, Sebasti-an."

I shivered, "I'll be waiting by the window.”

I was out the door when I heard Angie. "He's not emotionally unavailable. He's crazy in love."

I yelled back, "Thanks for your confidence."

I forgot the best friend was in the room when Alissa and Kirk were dropping bombs. We're way past that now. If Angie had doubts I couldn’t blame her. She'd be the one to deal with any destruction I caused. I was going to bust my balls not to. I may not be the best at giving myself credit for my good points, but I’m not stupid. Most of the time.

The longer it took them to come out the antsier I got. Emma doesn't take this long to get ready. Either they're talking more than getting ready or she's doing something complicated. No idea which.

Twenty minutes in Angie came down the hall. She'd curled her hair and had on the bright red dress she'd bought today. It was fitted, short, and off the shoulder. I whistled, "Sexy. Your husband will like."

Angie smiled, "Thank you. He likes red."

"Looks good on you." I laughed. "I can see why Eli never disputed the throuple thing. I'm going to enjoy walking in with two of you."

"Yeah, he ate that up. I'm sure he felt like his single self again. Threesomes with fans were his thing. Every night on tour and when they played locally."

I didn't know what to say. Part of me was impressed. I'd had threesomes, but every night? They're fun, but there's a lot of things going on all at once. Unless you just lay back and enjoy the attention. I think I'll stop now.

Angie read something on my face. She shook her head, "I tell you this to say that Eli was a very different person before we met. People change. People want different things in different relationships. Sometimes things they didn’t know they wanted. Eli was very different with me than those who came before me. You get to be different too."

Did not expect that. She had her butt on the window sill beside me. I leaned over and kissed her cheek, "Thank you."

She nodded with a smile, "You're welcome." Angie chuckled, "Eli's friends, especially the band, struggled with the changes. Then Boone met this cute little twink and discovered he was gay. Eli's changes were comparatively minuscule."

We were still laughing when Emma came into the room. I stopped laughing and mumbled, "Fuck."

Emma curtsied, "Thank you."

Emma's little black dress was... wow. The top looked like it had a built-in bra that lifted her breasts and showed an enticing amount of cleavage. Straps were far to the side, almost under her arms and straight over her shoulder. There was another pair of straps that connected at the corner of the dress and shoulder strap. They went diagonal across her chest and connected to a thicker collar around her neck. Triangles of bare skin showed off breasts and collar bones. It was the collar that would keep my attention for the skin in covered. Emma's favorite place to be kissed was hidden. What had taken them so long was her hair. Usually, she puts smooth curls into her naturally wavy hair. Tonight her hair was long and straight. It hung over one shoulder and was inches longer than when curled.

I stood from the window sill and stepped toward her while plotting where my hands went. I think one to her waist to feel the tight stretch of material over her body and the other is going for her hair. The material was thick and soft. It had the structure to hold everything in place. Up close I could see the black underwire on the bra and the soft swell of her breasts blooming over the top. I had plans for kissing there. I pulled up a strand of hair close to her temple and ran my fingers through to the end, well past her breasts. She wore more makeup than usual, still beautiful, but I didn’t want to mess her up. I pulled her bottom lip between mine and ran my tongue over. I kept her close as I pulled from her lips, "Beautiful doesn’t cover it, Emma."

M-am gandit la tine toata ziua, Sebasti-an.  <I've been thinking of you all day.>

“Mă voi gândi la tine toată noaptea. Fiind în interiorul tău, gustându-te.” <I'll be thinking of you all night. Being inside you, tasting you.>

From beside us I heard, "I don't know what he said, but from the tone it's dirty." Angie took Emma's hand from my shoulder and led her away. "You can translate later. I need to go say dirty things to my husband."

Ten minutes later we were at the Bowery Ballroom. Angie had texted Eli to meet us at the door. A guy wearing a "STAFF" t-shirt opened the door and asked if we knew where we were going. Angie and Emma nodded. I shrugged. I hadn't been here in years and had forgotten that once inside you went down a set of stairs to a low ceilinged bar. Past the bathrooms, you went upstairs to the main floor. A larger bar was at the opposite end from the stage. There were stairs on either side leading to the balcony. There were black cases opened on the floor in front of the stage. That’s when it hit me. This was her world, not mine.

I could feel the excitement rolling off Emma. She looked over to me, her smile wide, and I squeezed her hand. Eli jumped off the stage, kissing Angie before greeting us. The other band had taken longer to soundcheck and they were running behind.

Emma looked around, "Where is Keaton?" Eli pointed up. She added, "Mia here?"

"Not yet."

"We'll see you up there." Emma led me to a hallway to the right of the stage and up another set of stairs, talking as we walked. "Keaton opened for Pearl Jam many years ago and then the last tour. He and Mia had just gotten together the first time. Now they have two kids. They like to tell their story to new people. It's fun."

At the top of the stairs, I stopped, pulling her hand back to me. "I love how excited you are. You know this world, how it works." Her confidence going into a backstage area was evident. She knew what she was doing, where she was "I want to see you backstage at a Pearl Jam concert. I bet you’re treated like royalty."

She smiled, "Staff and the longtime fans are protective, you don't fuck with the Vedder women. Even on fan sites and social media friends and family are treated with respect. People are quick to be put in their place or kicked out. None of the guys put up with shit. Ed calls people out from stage. But I’m not anybody here"

I didn't believe that for a second. She is Eddie Vedder's daughter. I bet she's treated with respect here too, partly because if she’s not, the band will never open for PJ again. I was getting increasingly proud and excited being with her here. Excited for me to experience something I didn't know from the inside.

Top of the stairs was a security guard. First one I'd seen since we arrived. He was bigger than me, but not by much. Beefy Civil War Bucky could have taken him easy. This guy had a clipboard and a list.

"Name?"

I let her handle this. Her name, one of her options, held more weight than mine. Emma smiled, "Emiliana Vedder."

He looked up from his list, eyeing her slowly, "I'm a huge Pearl Jam fan. You need anything you find me. I’m Dylan."

“Thank you, Dylan."

Dylan pointed down the hall.

I laid my hand on her hip. Without her, I didn't belong here. Part of my brain was enjoying being second to her in this world. I wasn’t as thrilled when I was second in the acting world. That felt like competition. This feels like fun. No pressure or networking for me. Hollywood and music were built on knowing and improving your place in the food chain. I think she's at the top of this food chain. Not that it matters, but I can’t help thinking this way. When I walk into a party or event I am immediately checking for who I know and who I want to know.

Short hall to an open door, Emma called out as we got closer, "Hope you're decent."

A deep voice with a New York accent answered, "Have you ever known me to be decent?"

"Ok, just not naked?"

We went through the door and the owner of the voice came toward us. "Close enough."

The man was taller than me, had long skinny legs, and a strong upper body. He wasn't in a shirt, but he had enough chest chair to count as a sweater. He went straight for my girl, wrapping her into a tight hug. "It's been too long." He stepped back and looked her over more closely than I liked, "You are bloody fucking gorgeous. If I didn't have Mia I’d be taking you home with me tonight"

Emma laughed, "I think he might object." She nodded in my direct.

Keaton’s attention turned to me, "Lucky bastard." He held out a hand, "Keaton."

"Sebastian. Nice to meet you."

Keaton introduced the others in the band. Kevin spoke when done, "Can we call you Bucky?"

"Not if you want me to answer." My canned response sets a limit and gets a laugh. And they did laugh.

My thinking had been correct. Emma was the star of our couple tonight. They caught up and Emma filled them in on what Ed was doing before attention turned to me. The questions weren't about Marvel. They wanted to know about the weightless stuff in The Martian and making out with Margot Robbie. Stacy, Kevin's wife, wanted to talk about Once Upon a Time.

We talked over the soundcheck going on below only interrupted by the arrival of a pixie sized woman coming into the room. She looked over all of us, seemed to wink at Emma, then locked eyes with Keaton, "Hey, Rockstar."

Keaton stood to go to her, "Cheerleader." They met for a kiss that I could feel.

Emma pointed, "That's Mia." Everyone else went back to talking and out of the corner of my eye I could see the couple stop kissing to talk then start kissing again. No one paying attention told me this wasn't unusual. They didn’t break apart until Eli and company came through the door and only then because Kirk pushed Keaton away so he could hug Mia.

With the moment gone Keaton joined the rest of us, grabbing a backpack before he sat down. Mia followed less than a minute later, pulling Emma off the couch, "So excited when Keaton told me you were coming."

They hugged and Emma said, " We've got some catching up to do."

Mia looked at me, "Yes, we do."

I stood while Emma laughed, "Mia this is Sebastian."

"Nice to... oh" I was surprised when Mia pulled me into a hug, "meet you."

Mia stepped back, "Sorry, I'm a hugger."

"Me too." I smiled, "It’s nice to meet you."

A voice came from the doorway. The same man who had let us in, "Doors open."

Eli nodded, "Thanks, Bill."

Bill moved out of the way as a server with a large tray of shot glasses came into the room. Everyone took one and Eli asked him to close the door as he left. I was in the middle of a tradition and followed along. Eli held up his glass, "Good friends, good music, good times."

Keaton added, "And a night we'll never forget, except the parts we can't remember."

Everyone drank. Keaton pulled a joint out of the smaller bag he’d pulled from his backpack and lit up. I guess we'd be marking get high together off our couple's Bingo card. The joint got to Emma first and she inhaled deeply. I took a kiss as she handed it off to me. The smoke hit my lungs and it was like they remembered, opening up to pull in a memory. I'd hadn't had a cigarette in years, a heavy habit that had been hard to break. My pot usage varied. More social than solo and it had been awhile. Thinking back, I hadn't been high since we'd met. I closed my eyes and exhaled slowly with a smile, "Pot makes me horny."

I heard laughter and opened my eyes. They were laughing at Emma, whose arms were up like she was signaling a touchdown.

Eli was looking at me, "When are you not?"

I started to protest then pulled back, "Good point.” Emma was signaling another touchdown. I pulled her arms down. "Why are you acting like you never get laid?"

All four women shook their heads. Stacy had just handed off to Mia, "That’s celebrating the good sex to come."

I could already feel the mellowing out and my smile felt slow, "Ok, that's good, or it will be."

Emma put her arm over my shoulder and kissed my cheek, "Very good."

Mia pointed back and forth between us, "How long has this been going on?"

I went in with the answer, "A month on Monday."

Keaton, Kevin, and JP looked at each other with a low growl, "New couple sex is such a fun crapshoot. You gotta try everything at least twice."

Kirk snickered, "That’s two birthdays, Seb."

I flipped him off.

Keaton had a shit-eating grin on his face, "My Mia doesn't get horny. She gets touch hungry and I can play that to turn in to horny.”

Angie threw her hand out toward Emma, "Also gets touch hungry and a dirty mind. If she can stop laughing."

JP started laughing, "Oh yeah, remember Iowa?

Emma shook her head violently, "Nothing good happened in Iowa. Iowa was a disaster with bright moments."

I leaned in, "I wanna hear this. I'm envious of tour stories." They went quiet, "Who's going to start?'

Emma huffed out a breath, "Iowa was a festival in the front yard of a water company. It was muddy, hot, and in the middle of nowhere. Pearl Jam was the headliner. There were several other acts. Keaton, Neon Trees, Hanson, Adam Lambert. I wanted to meet Adam. Dad said not alone. I took Keaton."

Keaton picked up the story, "Adam is a fucking wall wrapped in leather and spikes. Imposing. I take her to his trailer, he's smoking, and we join. The conversation got filthy fast. They were making plans."

Emma took over, "They were imaginary threesome plans. Very detailed. Keaton was all in until he figured out this threesome had him as the center of attention, not me. Adam turned it on and Keaton thought leaving me with Adam was safer than him staying."

I laughed, "You bailed!"

“The plans had gotten too specific and he's big. You know what I mean." He shivered, "I went back and got stoned with Ed. That’s fucking nirvana every time. Who doesn’t dream of getting stoned with Pearl Jam."

I pouted, "I haven’t met him."

Emma sang, "Christmas."

Eli picked up, "You’re going to Hawaii?"

I nodded.

"Maybe don't tell him getting high makes you horny."

"Let's get stoned so I can fuck your daughter is a bad idea?" We were all laughing again. I was not going to do that.

Emma stood and went toward the refrigerator. I glared at Kirk and he followed her. He needed to apologize. Keaton went for his guitar, "He’s very protective."

The musicians started getting ready. Changing clothes, adding deodorant, and last trips to the bathroom. People shifted from sitting to standing and between pods of people. Emma and Kirk were still in the corner by the fridge. I joined Keaton and Kevin and heard more about Iowa. Emma was right, it was a disaster, but they had fun. Another joint went around and I noticed what a strange word Iowa was. It has too many vowels. Also realized[LW1]  I didn't know where it was, "Is that one of the square states?"

Since we were high things were funnier than they actually were. Like my question.

"You skip fourth grade?" Keaton snickered.

"I was in Austria in fourth grade."

"No shit!"

I laughed at his expression. "Romania, Austria, then here."

Keaton sighed, "I fucking loved Prague."

"That’s the Czech Republic.”

"Not Romania?" He shook his head slowly as he spoke.

"No."

"Are you sure?"

I pointed to myself and said emphatically, "Romanian."

"Well, fuck me. I thought it was Romania."

"Don't give me shit about not knowing Iowa."

We laughed so hard and so long we were holding onto each other with tears running down our cheeks.

Heaving for breath Keaton got out, "Squarish state attached to the Chicago state. At the bottom. West."

"Thank you."

We kept laughing until I felt hands on my waist slide around on my stomach. I knew it was Emma, but since I was stoned, I glanced at the hands just to be sure. What was coming would be bad if it wasn't her. Emma's touch hunger and my horniness were an incendiary combination.

I raised one arm to turn in that direction. Emma loosened her hold enough to allow me to face her. I put my hands on her face diving straight into a kiss. Our tongues met and her fingers dug into my back. She tasted of weed and tequila. I couldn't get enough of all three.

I heard Keaton's voice behind me, "Time to go, Seb."

I peeled myself away from my girl and took her hand. Since this wasn't a true opener and main act sort of thing the non-performing group would be upstairs with the rest of us. As we filed out of the room, we passed by Kirk who was holding a small bowl of gummy bears. The edible would kick in as the joint was fading and see us through the night.

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan fanfiction #fanfiction #sebastian stan X ofc #marvel actor fanfiction

[styles-is-the-name]

Just Before You Go - Part Three

this is my first shot at a harry-y/n fic, and it will be multiple parts. Harry is a single father of two that hasn’t even looked at another woman in years. For the first time in five years, he finally feels like he’s returning to himself all because he met someone unexpectedly at a grocery store. Even though his kids are determined to help him find love again, will it be possible? (There eventually be smut, but will mostly be fluff.)

TW: suicide, self harm, and others will occur

Word Count: 2,399

“Harry, you do absolutely amazing work!” Your eyes widen slightly as you continue flipping through his books looking at different tattoos he’s done over the years. Each one is beautiful and unique.

“Thank you, love. I’m not like a traditional tattoo artist if you couldn’t tell. I won’t do any tattoo that another artist has done.”

“So if I were to ask for a butterfly, you wouldn’t do it the same way another person did?”

“I would ask you why you want the butterfly and depending on your response, I will find a butterfly that suits your reasoning perfectly.”

“Do you know about the butterfly project?”

“I sure do. Is...is that why you want one?” You look down breathing out shakily and nod nervously. He sits down next to you gently placing his hand over yours. “I’m here for you, Y/N. I know that we just met and you don’t trust me yet, but I am here for you.”

You smile up at him through tears and nod not able to speak fearful that you might start crying. He hands you a tissue and you dab the corners of your eyes trying not to ruin your makeup. The two of you look over at Darcy who is petting her cat lovingly.

“She’s very beautiful.”

“Thank you.” He smiles at you widely. “She looks exactly like her mother did.”

“She mentioned...you know...what her mother did.” You say softly not sure how to approach the topic. He sighs shakily leaning back on the couch.

“She really struggled with postpartum depression after she had my son. I didn’t realize it was as bad as it actually was. I spent more time with the kids than I did with her. She...she cheated. And when I found out...she killed herself in front of me.”

“Harry...oh my god. I’m so sorry.” He nods awkwardly trying to blink back all the emotion he feels right now. You decide to change the topic to help him out. “So should I bring anything to dinner tomorrow? I can bring dessert.”

“You cook?”

“I do, but I mostly bake.”

“The kids love baking.”

“So maybe...I can bring something over and we can cook and bake together.”

“Like a family.” He smiles lightly at you making your heart flutter.

___________________________

The whole day was so miserable and long for you. You were impatient and you hated it, but you managed to get some of your job applications sent out. Hopefully you’ll be hearing back from schools within the next few days. One of the only good things about who your father is is that he sends you money every week. That’s how you’ve been surviving.

Around three, you decide to call your best friend, Louis. He’s always good to talk to in a crisis or a fashion emergency and in your case, it’s the latter.

“Y/N!”

“Louis!”

“What’s up, babe?”

“Okay so. There’s a lot I have to catch you up on.”

“Is there a guy?”

“How did you know?”

“I haven’t seen you this happy since-“

“Don’t even say his name. I swear to god I will fly to New York and rip out your vocal chords.”

“Okay! Okay! Calm down. But anyway. Spill the tea!”

“Well I was at the grocery store yesterday and I met this man.”

“Name? Age? Nationality? Religion? Race? Relationship status? Criminal record?”

“Louis! Oh my god. His name is Harry Styles.”

“Oh my god that’s amazing. Imagine him so deep inside of you that you start scream-“

“OKAY! Okay! Enough!”

“Continue.”

“He’s a tattoo artist.”

“Seriously? Dude that’s so cool! Maybe I should make a trip out there.”

“Oh my god he’s amazing, Lou. He showed me some of his past tattoos and they’re all amazing.”

“You’ll have to send me pics.”

“I will the next time I’m at his shop.”

“You went to his shop?”

“Just shut up and let me talk!”

“Okay bossy.” You roll your eyes giggling.

“Well he has a British accent.”

“That’s your weakness!”

“I know! He’s a single father.”

“How many kids and how old?”

“Two. Darcy is nine and she's the sweetest little girl I’ve ever met. I haven’t met Carter yet, but he’s six and adorable.”

“And their mom? You don’t need a crazy ex around.”

“She’s not in the picture.”

“Seriously? She had two kids then just left?”

“Lou, it’s more complicated than that.”

“Well, tell me!”

“She killed herself.”

“Oh my god.”

“I know. But Darcy is really trying to get us together and guess what.”

“What?”

“Every Tuesday they have taco Tuesday. And they invited me tonight.”

“Yasss! My girl is gonna get some dick tonight!”

“Louis! Oh my god. Why did I even bother calling you.”

“Because you probably need help picking out an outfit.”

“Yeah I do. I don’t wanna be too dressy, but I don’t wanna be too casual either.”

“You know that yellow, flowy top we bought before you left?”

“The one that has ruffled sleeves and goes down to my thighs?”

“Yeah that. Wear that with leggings and sandals.”

“And my hair?”

“Braid it to the side and natural makeup.”

“Thanks, Lou. I owe you. I gotta go though so I can be there on time. We’re cooking together.”

“Awwww! You’re a little family already!”

“Oh fuck off.”

“Love youuuuu!”

“Yeah yeah.” You hang up giggling then rush to get ready.

_______________________

“But daddy! It’s not fair! Why did Darcy get to meet her and not me?!”

“Bubba, I already explained this to you. Darcy was at the store with me, but you get to meet her tonight. She’s coming over for dinner.”

“But I wanted to find you a girlfriend!” Harry blushes bright red. It’s not that he’s embarrassed to have you called his girlfriend (if it weren’t too soon, he probably would ask you to be his girlfriend himself), but having your kids talk about it is just a little weird.

“She’s not my girlfriend, Carter.”

“YET!” Darcy looks at Carter smirking.

“Jinx! Knock on wood. You owe me a soda!”

“Daddy.” Carter whines looking up to Harry.

“I need you both to be on your absolute best behavior tonight okay?”

“Okay daddy.”

“Yes daddy.” Carter leans closer to Darcy. “Is she pretty?” Darcy giggles and nods. Harry rolls his eyes sighing.

“She’s beautiful. Beyond beautiful. But we just met, guys. Nothing serious is going to come from a din-“

The two are running towards the door before Harry can even finish. Darcy opens the door right as you were reaching to ring the doorbell.

“Y/N!” She hugs you tightly catching you off guard. You hug back smiling lightly and wave to Carter.”

“Hi guys!” Harry walks over wanting to just melt into the floor seeing how embarrassing his kids are being.

“Guys, let her in! Let her in.” Darcy let’s go of you and let’s you walk inside.

“Woah.” You look around at the beautiful interior. “It's beautiful in here!”

“Daddy said you’re beautiful too!”

“Carter!” Darcy nudges him with her elbow.

“What?! He did!” Harry squeezes his fists biting his lip nervously.

“Well, your daddy is very handsome.”

Harry can’t help, but smile. He feels like he’s in high school again. He just met you yesterday and his heart is already racing when you compliment him. The only difference is that he is twenty-six almost twenty-seven and he knows it’s not just some school girl crush. It’s more than that. He hasn’t felt like this in nearly five years and to say that it’s terrifying doesn’t even come close to how he feels.

“Darcy, you were right! She is really pretty.”

“I know!” The two giggle running into the living room. Harry looks up to you blushing deeply feeling bad.

“I’m so sorry. I told them to behave. Looks like they decided not to listen.” You giggle.

“It’s okay, Harry. I wasn’t sure what to bring for dessert so I just brought stuff to make homemade chocolate chip cookies.”

“From scratch?”

“The best way to make them!” He leads you into his kitchen talking over his shoulder to you.

“My mum used to bake cookies from scratch and she would have them ready for when I got home from school. I tried to figure out how to make them the way she does, but I never could figure it out.”

“The secret ingredient is sour cream. Sounds disgusting, but it just makes the cookie more moist. Also, milk instead of water.”

“I knew the milk, but not sour cream. God I worked in a bakery as a teenager. I should know these things!”

“Awww little Harry in an apron!” You hold your heart jutting out your bottom lip. You see his gaze move down to your lips and your knees just about give out on you.

“Just be thankful my mum isn’t here. She’d be showing you all sorts of baby pictures.”

“We should have invited her then! I’d love to see those chubby baby cheeks. I love babies.”

“What’s your favorite age to teach?”

“Probably both elementary and high school.”

“Not middle school?”

“Oh hell no. Those brats are so rude it’s not even funny. And they’re too hormonal.”

“I would’ve thought that high schoolers are more hormonal.” You sit down on the counter popping a cherry into your mouth while watching him roll his sleeves up. Your mouth waters but you can’t tell if it’s from the cherry or his tattoos.

“That’s what you’d think, but they have the majority of their hormones in check. I mean think about it. Most girls start their periods in six grade. That’s around the time that guys started yanking off to socks.” His laugh sounds like music to your ears. You’d do anything to hear that again.

“True. I love how you put it like that.”

“I mean it’s true! I’ve heard most guys prefer socks over the male dildo vagina things.”

“What guys have you been talking to?!”

“My brothers and my best friend.” You shrug amused by the conversation.

“Well I just prefer my hand.”

“But doesn’t that make a mess?”

“If you aim right it shouldn’t.”

“Oh my god. I’d struggle if I were a guy for a day.”

“How so?”

“My aim sucks. I wouldn’t be able to even pee.” He throws his head back laughing.

“Well if I were a woman for a day, I wouldn’t be able to leave my bedroom.”

“Why? Too busy fingering yourself?” You giggle rolling your eyes.

“Eh. I’m more of a tits guy.” Just the way he said that makes you feel light headed. You know you need to change the subject before you have to go to the bathroom.

“Oh whatever. Anyway. Tell me about yourself, Harry.”

“What do you wanna know, love?”

“Anything and everything.” Harry hands you a pan and the package of meat. You pop another cherry into your mouth before hopping off of the counter and turning the burner on.

“Well, I was raised in Holmes Chapel.”

“Isn’t that just a few hours outside of London?”

“Yeah. It’s a pretty small town, but it’s lovely.”

“Why’d you move here?”

“For uni. Three of my lads and I moved here. We got an apartment and went to uni together.”

“What do they do for a living?”

“Well Niall owns his own club. Zayn is a model. And Liam is about to graduate med school.”

“Oh wow. That’s a big variety.”

“I know, but I know who to go to for free drinks and surgery if needed.” You laugh while pouring the meat into the pan. This isn’t as awkward as you thought it would be. It’s actually pretty fun.

“Where did you go to college?”

“We went to NYU but Liam is at Chapel Hill for med school.”

“I went to NYU!”

“No way! Class of 2012.”

“Class of 2014!”

“We probably saw each other around campus then. You were a sophomore when I was a senior.”

“I actually went to your graduation. My best friend Louis was graduating.”

“Louis? As in Tomlinson?”

“Oh my god. You know him?!”

“Yeah. We were pretty good friends. We lost contact a couple years after graduation sadly.”

“Maybe you should reconnect.”

“I would love to, but I don’t even know how to get in contact with him.”

“Here. I’ll FaceTime him.” You walk over to him touching the small of his back while FaceTiming him.

“Wha-“

“Y/N? Oh my god! Harry! I was wondering if you were him!”

“Lou! Hey man!”

“How’s life?!”

“It’s great! You?”

“Wonderful. I’m actually thinking about proposing to El.”

“Oh my god. That’s awesome!” You give him the phone giggling. It warms your heart hearing the two of them get along. They’re the two most important guys in your life right now. And you have a feeling that Carter will probably be the third.

You walk into the living room and see the kids watching tv. You lay down dramatically with your head in Darcy’s lap and your feet in Carter's.

“Hey! Your feet are smelly!”

“Hey!” You pout sitting up. He giggles and jumps into your arms making you groan.

“Just because your feet are smelly doesn’t mean I don’t want cuddles.” You laugh holding him close.

“Alright. What are you guys watching?” Darcy pauses the tv looking at you.

“There’s nothing really to watch.”

“Do you have Disney plus?”

“Yeah, but I don’t know what to watch.”

“Have you heard of Wizards of Waverly Place?” They both shake their head no making you grin. “When my brothers and I were growing up, we would watch it all the time. It’s about two mortals that have three kids that are witches.”

“What are mortals?” Carter looks up to you confused.

“Mortals are people like us. We don’t have any powers.”

“I’m not a mortal! Daddy says I’m Superman!” You laugh pinching his cheek.

“You sure are Superman!”

“Can we watch it, Y/N?”

“Of course. Selena Gomez is one of the lead characters.” Darcy gasps pressing play immediately. She moves closer to you cuddling into your side.

Your heart has never felt this full before. Sure you’ve had cuddles from some of your kids, but you’ve never done this before. Carter rests his head on your chest sucking his thumb. You close your eyes just soaking in the moment.

Nothing could make this any better.

#harry styles #fine line #watermelon sugar #smut #1d #hs #hs2 #hs1 #harry styles fanfic #solo harry #hopeless romantic #love #onedirection #long reads #fluff #fanfic #justbeforeyougo #Just Before You Go #liam payne #louis tomlinson #niall horan #zayn malik

[iamkatehardy]

The Portrait (Alfie Solomons x Reader) - Pt 3

Word Count: 2.2 k

Warnings: Just cursing 😁

Summary: Can (Y/N) Shelby and Alfie finally reach an agreement? Will they say “See you later” or “Goodbye”?

Preparing the ground for the final part(s)!

The Portrait Pt.3 

 The first rays of the rising sun, which shone in through the large window in the bedroom, woke you up. You lacked courage to immediately get up, so you just rolled on the bed, covering your head with a pillow; another round of negotiations with Alfie Solomons definitely wasn’t something you were eager for. Furthermore, he made you wait for about an hour last time, didn’t he? He deserved a possible slight delay.  

You took your own sweet time getting ready; if you were going to trash Alfie, you would do it in style. The dolling up process was followed by a strong cup of coffee, while you leafed through the day’s newspaper, two vitally important things for a Shelby in the morning.

After getting a lecture from his boss, Ollie knew better than keeping you waiting. Not many women visited the bakery; when he heard the staccato sound of your heels clicking on the floor, he hurried to meet you at the entrance, escorting you down the hallway, to Alfie’s office.

“At least you’ve learnt something from my last visit, haven’t you, young man?” – A self-satisfied smile formed on your pouty lips.

After Tommy’s little prank involving grenades, Ollie had realized Shelbys were crazy motherfuckers, just like Alfie, or maybe worse ; he kept silent, trying to stay low and out of trouble.

Alfie waited in his office, even more impatient than usual; he kept coming up with excuses for his rather odd reaction to your delay , telling himself  it was because he was eager to get his hands on Shelby Company Limited, or maybe because you were thirty seven minutes and fifty two seconds late already. He knew exactly how late you were; his piercing eyes had been absolutely glued to his golden pocket watch since the appointed time.

When the doorknob jiggled, he nodded his head gravely, expectantly looking at the door.

“Ollie?!” – Alfie’s eyes moved to the man staying behind you, before he closed the door.

“Yes , Alfie?”

“Note this down, next time Miss Shelby graces us with her presence, we should offer her a watch, aye. Now, go.” – Waving his hands, Alfie shooed Ollie away.

“Oh Mr. Solomons, that is very considerate of you…” – You shot him a scornful appraising look, taking a long breath. – “ And I really appreciate that, but you don’t need to bother… It was a deliberate fashion delay.” – Your gaze locked with his, as the corners of your mouth lifted, to form the Shelby irresistible signature smirk.  

“Fashionable?! Women…” – He watched you closely, as you sat down, amused, yet cautious.

“ I didn’t expect you to know a lot about that subject anyway…” – Raising a caustic eyebrow, you looked down with a mocking air, while straightening your skirt.

“About what’s fash…”

“No, Mr. Solomons, about women.” – You interrupted him,  eyes darting over his face again; you could see a vein pop out in his neck, but his expression was seemingly neutral.

“May I offer you something to drink, aye?” – He tried to avoid the topic.

“A decent business proposition would be a good start…” – You shot him an impatient look. – “But after that, I wouldn’t say no to an Irish whiskey.”

The phone rang, in the otherwise silent office. Alfie looked at it, then at you.

“You should pick up; it seems to me like they won’t be giving up. Furthermore, we’ve got some time on our hands.” – You nodded silent approval, eyeing him warily.

“I’m sorry. I won’t be long, a’ight?“– He answered the phone and you took the opportunity to get your sketchbook once again.

Alfie spoke slowly, thinking and weighting his every word, as he stroked his beard. He blinked slowly, focused; his blue-green eyes were dark oceans of immeasurable depths, where you could drown yourself in, with no need of ever again coming up for air. His thumb slid across his lips; they looked soft, luscious, warm and unusually inviting, despite the coarse speech that often left them. His mind changed from brute to brilliant in a matter of seconds. He was immovable, irreverent, intriguing; it was annoying, but definitely enticing. He probably didn’t realize all that about himself, but even if he did, Alfie seemed to you like the kind of man that wouldn’t care; you loather it, and you loved it.

While working furiously on the drawing, your eyes devoured and took in each of his gorgeous features; you were possessed by a frantic need to have his portrait done, an undeniable appeal to capture all the secrets hiding in his features, the ones he wouldn’t voluntarily tell. He had no idea how much he inspired you, and you didn’t want him to; as soon as you’d lay your eyes on him, inspiration struck you as swift and sudden as a lightening, a raw electrifying feeling down to the cusp of you being, and the need to let it out through the thing you liked the most : art.

You woke up from your creative trance when you heard the name Tommy. After angrily closing the sketchbook, to keep it away from Alfie’s sight, you leaned forward on the table.

“Tommy, like my Tommy?”

Alfie just nodded; he liked to bargain with your brother, Tommy was way more flexible about the conditions than you were.

You ripped the phone off his hand, sitting over the table.

“Thomas, fuck off, keep your nose out of my business. You weren’t so willing to do business with Mr. Solomons when you sent me here, were you? Well, now I’m in charge, and this time, you can’t fuckin’ boss me around! Are we clear?” – You yelled, before slamming down the receiver. “If he calls again, you’re not answering, it’s my signature you need.”

He never though there was someone brave enough to shout at Tommy Shelby, let alone tell him to fuck off, and hang up on him.

“You’re in charge, sweetie.” -  A soft low laugh escaped his throat, followed by an amused smile.

“Let it be a warning for you too, Alfie. I’m not screwing around. Now, the contract, did you rework it?”

Alfie took the contract out of one his desk drawers, along with a bottle of Irish whiskey; after scooting the contract to your side of the table, he poured you a drink, which you promptly took in your hand, taking a sip as you carefully analyzed the contract.

“Way better than the first one…” – You swirled the whiskey that was left I the glass, tapping your foot slowly on the ground.

“So, what do you say, sweetie?”

Taking a deep breath, you put the glass down. Bending over the table slowly, you chuckled, making sign for Alfie to approach. He did; his elbows were resting on the table, hands clenched together, as he dipped his chin, looking  at you over your glasses.

“I say… Fuck. You.” – You whispered right in his face, before sitting back down. – “This is not what we agreed upon!  I don’t know what kind of deal Tommy promised you, but I’m not my brother… So, from now on, we’ll play by my rules, or we won’t play at all.”

He sank back in the chair, closing his eyes; a corner of his mouth lifted.

“Listen, love, it really pains me to be the bearer of bad news, especially to such a beautiful, determined, cunning little lady like you, a'ight… But you’re hardly in a position to make any demands, innit doll?” – He unclasped his hands and threw them up, opening his eyes to face you once again.

“Why am I even wasting my time?” – Rolling your eyes, you got up. – “You’re such a leech!”

“I’m a skillful exploiter of situations…”

“And you take pride in it, unbelievable…” – After grabbing your stuff, you turned on your heel.

“(Y/N), wait.” – He took a deep breath.

“What?” – You gently turned to face him.

“If you leave now, you lose.”

“I guess it makes two of us, Alfie. I’ve got something you want too, and I would gladly give it to you in exchange for your support and loyalty, if you know what that means, that is. But it’s never enough for you, and I refuse to give in to your disproportionate greed. So, negotiations end immediately.”

“ You’ll be losing far more than I will. You will be facing a war, not a single ally.”

“We’re fuckin’ Shelbys , Alfie, we are forged in fire… We stick together through thick and thin, and that makes us ready to face any war. If you can breathe, you can stand, and if you can stand, you can fight… With or without you, we’ll make it. Our demons will keep us company anyway. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a long ride home, and I should be getting on with it. ” – Your gaze stayed on him a moment longer than it had to, before you gave him a courtly nod.

“I am sure that we can come to an arrangement in this regard, a’ight? Please, let us sit and talk.”  - He had weighed your words; the togetherness of your family had always been its strength, he knew it, and he envied it. Alfie didn’t have a family structure to back him up, or for him to back up, but maybe he could compensate that void in his life by helping your family.

“We tried, twice… Regrettably, however, we have failed to reach an agreement. We’re both too stubborn, and inflexible, for that.” – A faint smile crossed your face, disappearing as quickly as it appeared.

“Sweetie, I insist. We draw up a contract together and sign it.”  

“But this is the final try.”

“Name your terms, Miss Shelby.” – He made place for you on his side of the desk, bringing an extra chair, pulling it for you to sit, and bringing you pen and paper.

You shot him a look in which surprise and amusement were nicely fused, before siting by his side. After making a list of the demands and concessions of both of you in the negotiations, you discussed it for hours, before you finally reached an agreement that pleased both. You finally signed the contract, before Alfie folded it and put it on the drawer.  

He poured you another whiskey.

“Thanks.” – You took a sip, rubbing  the back of your neck  with your free hand.

“When are you going back to Small Heath?”

“Soon, I need to rub this in Tommy’s face, as soon as possible…” – You smirked victoriously, giving him a look of triumph.

“Oh…” – He pressed his lips together, furrowing his eyebrows, somehow disappointed you had to leave so soon. You were a tough nut to crack, but he could relate. – “ Didn’t like the city, huh?”

“As a businesswomen these were hard days here, Mr. Solomons…” – You glared at him, but then you chuckled. – “But I actually like it here… As an artist, I had a blast! I hadn’t feel so alive and inspired in ages.”

“An artist? “ – His eyebrows rose, and he curiously studied you.

“We can say I didn’t get the gangster gene in my DNA…”

“You’d never know it to look at you…” – He made a face.

“I’ll take that as a compliment…” – You got up. – “ It was a pleasure doing business with you , Alfie.“ – You extended your hand for him to shake

“Likewise, Miss Shelby.” -  He looked at your hand, then at you, and he finally took it, kissing your knuckles softly, instead of offering you a handshake.

Chivalry and Alfie Solomons combined? Was hell freezing over or something like that?

“(Y/N).” – You gave him a warm smile.

“(Y/N), a’ight.” – He reluctantly let go of your hand.

“I know you said I wasn’t in position to make demands… But may I ask you something?”

“Of course, by all means, yes.”

“I might have been drawing you…” – Your cheeks turned pink

“Might?” – He looked at you over his glasses.

“And I might as well finish it, if you wouldn’t mind, that is.” – Cocking your head lightly, your eyes widened, waiting for his answer.

Since he couldn’t come up with an excuse to see you again, he was thankful you did.

“I…” – He hesitated for a second.

“It’s ok to say no, I get it, really ” -  Nodding courtly, your lips curved into a sincere smile.

“NO. I’d like that, aye? We could meet up..” – He tried to set up a date, but you interrupted him.

“I don’t want to bother you, Alfie. I’ll come here later in the week,  before I leave for Birmingham. I will ask Ollie if you are available. If you are, we can finish it, if not… We can finish it another time.”

“We have a deal.” – Letting out a deep throaty laugh, he rubbed your shoulder.

“So long, Mr. Solomons.” – You decided to dare, and gently kissed his cheek, before heading out the door.

Once you left the bakery, Alfie called Ollie to his office.

“Cancel all the meetings I have this week, a’ight ”

“But Mr. Solomons…”

“Don’t question me! Need to available when… Never mind, just do it, aye? I have an important appointment, I just don’t know exactly when, so cancel all the others. “– He shooed Ollie away once again.

“He’s getting even more nuts with age.” – Ollie whispered to himself.

“But definitely not deaf, little boy!”-  Alfie shouted, throwing him a book before he disappeared through the door.

Tags: @picassho-18 , @sparklyreaderx , @titty-teetee , @but--dear-this-is-not-wonderland , @tiredoffeelinglost , @theladynevermore , @moralesunflower , @alexa4040 ,  @innerpaperexpertcloud , @marvelgirl7 , @eap1935 , @ellar21 , @captstefanbrandt , @iv-nyc (In case you want to be tagged/untagged , let me know <3 )

#alfie solomons #alfie solomons x reader #alfie solomons x oc #alfie solomons fanfic #alfie solomons imagine #alfie solomons tom hardy #alfie solomons peaky blinders #tom hardy characters #peaky fookin blinders #peaky blinders #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders imagine #alfie solomons x ofc

[duhragonball]

Dragon Ball Z 222

The recap for this episode includes a cutaway diagram of Babidi’s spaceship.   I think I messed up the screencaps here to make it look like there’s five stages instead of just four, but you get the general idea.   The big chamber at the bottom is where I think Babidi monitors the fights, and then below that is the room where Buu’s ball is stored.  

The thing I never understood was why so much of Babidi’s ship is devoted to this gauntlet he’s having our heroes run.   Each “Stage” is equipped to absorb energy lost by intruders as they do battle with the stages’ defenders, which is handy for Babidi’s current project of reviving Majin Buu.   But this is probably the first and only time this has ever come up.    Would Babidi even have need for stolen energy other than reviving Buu?   

Come to think of it, has Babidi ever had any other agenda before this?   My understanding of his life is this: He was created as a duplicate of his “father” Bibidi, probably to do some side work for him, and when the Supreme Kai killed Bibidi he eventually started plotting to take over where Bibidi left off.   So I would assume he’s spent his whole existence trying to recover Majin Buu, though much of that was preparation, I’m sure.   He had to learn more magic, assemble a crew, acquire this spaceship, and figure out Buu’s location.

Anyway, up on Stage 1, Vegeta has to fight Puipui before they can proceed further into the ship.    If Puipui hurts Vegeta (or Goku or Gohan, if he ever gets to them), the damage will feed Buu’s ball.  But that doesn’t seem to matter, since Vegeta utterly dominates the guy in his base form.

To improve Puipui’s chances, Babidi uses his magic.

Now, the Supreme Kai claims that Babidi only used his magic to change the room, but later episodes will strongly suggest that they’ve all been teleported to a new location outside of the ship.    I’m not clear on this, but one way or another, they’re now standing on what looks like Puipui’s homeworld, the planet Zoon.   The subs spell it “Zun”, but I feel like “Zoon” is right.    “Zuun?”    I kind of like all three.   Skip it.  

Whether they’re actually on Zoon or a reasonable facsimile, Vegeta is surprised by the change, and Puipui brags that he now has the advantage, because the gravity here is ten times that of earth.    Oh, you sweet summer child...

Punch.

Kick.

Titty grab.

>:^D

Closed casket funeral.

The Saiyans head for the next deck, while the Supreme Kai is gobsmacked by Vegeta’s performance.   Puipui never even touched Vegeta, and Geets wasn’t even using Super Saiyan.  

Watching this fight again, I notice that Vegeta’s style has changed dramatically since his battles against the androids and Cell.    He taunted Puipui a few times, but he wasted no time in putting the guy away.   I’d suggest that the only reason the fight lasted as long as it did was because Vegeta wanted to scout him out a bit before he committed to a finishing blow.   This is a far cry from when he fought 19, and he basically gave 19 a bunch of free hits just to show him how outclassed he was.    He horsed around with 18 and Cell in a similar fashion, thinking he had an advantage that he really didn’t.  But against Puipui, he was all business.   

I point all this out, because it’s tough to square Vegeta’s stoic gruffness in the 2010′s with his manic bluster from early and mid-DBZ.   When he first showed up in the Saiyans Saga, he was very cocky, but also quiet, letting Nappa do most of the gloating.    Then Goku got under his skin and he became downright nutty.    On Namek, he acted like a total lunatic sometimes, which I always chalked up to his desperation to beat Frieza to immortality, and the rich rewards he would achieve if he could pull it off.   

Most of the Androids and Cell period was him trying to prove his superiority, to be the man he had always claimed to be.   His big problem was that he thought turning Super Saiyan was a destination instead of a journey, and that it would solve all his problems.    This is why he kept losing in that arc, because he went into every fight thinking he’d already won by showing up.  

The Puipui fight is the last time we see him win a fight in DBZ.    If we want to count the later series and movies... let’s see.    He killed Nappa in Dragon Ball GT, but how big a deal is that?    He beat Golden Frieza in Movie 15, but he was practically beaten anyway after fighting with Goku.    In Dragon Ball Super he took out Captain Ginyu, then several fighters from the other universes.   Toppo was the big win for that series.     Dramatically speaking, though, all of these resemble the Puipui fight more than the battles he had before that.    Much more focused, no nonsense, and shutting out distractions.   

Maybe that’s what Whis meant when he told him he was wound up too tightly in Movie 15.   If Whis could have seen Vegeta’s fight with Semiperfect Cell, he would realize that Vegeta used to be way too sloppy and self-assured, and the “overthinking” approach he used afterward was his attempt to compensate for that.  

Anyway, Babidi and Dabura are shocked to find anyone this strong on Earth, because they scouted the planet 300 years ago and didn’t find anyone nearly that powerful.    Okay, but what I don’t get is that they must have realized the Saiyans were unusually powerful, because that’s why they lured them on board in the first place.    They wrote Krillin and Piccolo off as useless, and I’m betting either of them could have killed Puipui.   

Back at the stadium, Chi-Chu suddenly realizes that she has no idea where Goten is.    For some reason, Bulma doesn’t seem terribly concerned about Trunks, though.  

Turns out, they’re both in the... lounge?   I have no idea what this room is for, but it’s some place for the tournament fighters to hang out, because when the World Tournament Announcer comes into find Mighty Mask, he finds the boys instead, and tells them they aren’t allowed back here.   See, Goten was tired of carrying Trunks on his shoulders, so they came in here to take a break.   

WTA wanted to tell Mighty Mask that they’re still figuring out how to proceed with only five fighters, and then he notices MM’s costume on the floor, so Trunks uses super speed to turn on the shower.    WTA almost walks in on the guy, but Goten insists that he’d be mad about that.    WTA’s like “Oh, yeah, those masked fighters hate for anyone to see their faces.”    Okay, yeah, but more importantly, maybe you don’t just walk in on somebody while they’re taking a shower?   Geez.  

So he calls out to MM from there, and Trunks has to pull the crappiest ventriloquism act ever to respond.    The Announcer buys this completely, just like he buys that Trunks and Goten only came in here to find Mr. Satan and get his autograph.    Then again, WTA’s seen a lot of weird shit in his time.   I get the sense that he’s a dude who gets along by not asking too many questions.    If you served him Steamed Hams, he’d be all excited to sample authentic Utica cuisine.   

Piccolo and Krillin update: They’re still statues. 

In the ship, Babidi decides to send Yakon down to Stage 2.   Dabura thinks that’s a bit extreme, but Babidi doesn’t want to take these intruders too lightly, not after Puipui got killed without landing a single blow.    

Dabura’s all worried that Yakon will kill them all before he gets to have any fun with them, and Babidi has to remind him that he’s his mind-controlled henchman, so he’s not here to have fun, dammit.

That’s kind of the interesting thing about the dynamic between these two.    Babidi seems to give his slaves a lot of leeway, either because he can’t control them absolutely, or because he prefers to let them think independently.   In Dabura’s case, he seems to enjoy having him as a dependable second-in-command, offering counsel and relaying his orders to the crew.   It gets to the point where even Dabura gets a little too comfortable with the role now and then.   

And it becomes easy for us in the audience to forget that Dabura is one of Babidi’s victims.   He only wants to awaken Buu because Babidi told him to want it.    Would Dabura even care about this goal otherwise?   I mean, it’s an evil agenda, but maybe not his brand of evil, you know?   

I think this is why Toriyama designed him to look so much like a classic interpreation of the Chrisitan Devil.    He’s not like Frieza or King Piccolo, where he’ll have time to establish his credentials as a major villain.   Dabura has to look like a major villain up front, because we’ll never really get to see how he earned the role.   His job is to look like a big deal, to emphasize that Babidi has turned him into plaything.    He could make this guy swab the decks with his tongue if he wanted to.    He only lets Dabura play first-officer because it suits his purposes.  

So some of the henchmen got to summon Yakon for Stage 2 duty, and he kills them as soon as they open the door to his room.    Awesome!   This guy ain’t fucking around.

Then Babidi calls to him, probably though telepathy or something, and it’s clear that this guy is Babidi’s plaything too.    It kind of makes you wonder why Babidi even bothered having minions go fetch Yakon in the first place, if this was the only way to get him to cooperate.    But it makes a lot of sense once you realize Babidi is a sick fuck and all of his servants are expendable.   

In Stage Two, Vegeta suggests forcing the door again, and when the Supreme Kai argues that this might release Buu, he asks how big a deal Buu really is.   After all, Puipui was helpless against him, and Dabura’s not that big a deal either.  

Shin’s like “Whaaaaa?” and Vegeta’s like, “Yeah, Dabura’s not that tough.    Your friend Kibito only got killed because he’s a bitch.”  

Shin asks Goku if this is true, and Goku’s like “Yep, Kibito’s shit tier, Supreme Kai.”

Goku estimates that Dabura’s about as strong as Cell was, and Cell was a big deal... seven years ago.    Now, being as strong as Cell doesn’t mean jack to these guys.   That’s awesome.   I love this.  

And this makes the Supreme Kai look like a real geek, because he only seemed to know that Goku and the others were very strong, but he had no idea how strong.    My impression is that he had no idea the Cell conflict ever happened, which kind of makes sense, seeing as Cell came from the future.    Perfect Cell was never really meant to be, when you think about it.   In his own timeline, the androids he had to absorb to become perfect were already dead, so without time travel, no one would ever have to deal with him at full power.   As it was, he fought the Z-Fighters umpteen years before he was born, so it sort of forced the heroes to get stronger than they would have been normally.

My guess is that the Supreme Kai knew about how strong Frieza was, and that Goku beat him, so he estimated his power based on this.   Still, you’d think he could have asked around before today.    He knew Goku would be at the tournament, so he must have had some advance notice on this.    All he had to do was talk to King Kai and go “Hey, how do you think Son Goku would stack up against, say, Dabura?”   And King Kai would go “You know, I’m not a hundred percent sure, but I think Goku could take him, sir.  He’s improved dramatically since he beat Frieza.”    And at least then he’d know what he was dealing with.  

Something else I wonder about is why none of the Kai’s seem to know anything about Saiyans.   I mean, they’ve all been around for millions of years, and Goku wasn’t the first Super Saiyan.    Maybe he and Vegeta are stronger than all the ones who came before, but you’d think some of the Kais would have noticed when the last Super Saiyan was running wild a thousand years ago, or the Super Saiyan before that, and so on.   

My point is that both the Supreme Kai and Babidi seem to think these guys are key to their respective plans, and yet they seem surprised to find out how strong they are.    Let me throw out a suggestion here: If Shin knew exactly how strong Goku is right now, do you think he’d just blow up this spaceship and have done with it?    I mean, if Buu wakes up prematurely, in his weakened state, Goku could probably beat him, right?   It’d be a gamble, but no worse than what ends up happening in this story.    

Anyway, Yakon finally shows up on Stage 2, so we can finally get on with this thing.   

And it’s Goku’s turn to fight, so we get to see what he can do after all these years.    Doncha dare miss it!

#dragon ball #2019dbliveblog #babidi saga #goku #vegeta #puipui #gohan #supreme kai #babidi #dabura #yakon #goten #trunks #chi chi #world tournament announcer #ox king #yamcha #marron #master roshi

[uruhabuns]

It’s all about the foundation (part 3) (makeup artist!reader x ruki)

A/N: HELLO I AM FASHIONABLY LATE AS USUAL BC I’VE BEEN SO BUSY AFTER EXCHANGE SETTLING DOWN AND TRYING TO FIND A JOB ;____; but yes, this could be the final part of this series (unless you guys want another part?), so i hope you guys enjoy reading this and please give a like or reblog if you’ve read <3

Part 1 / Part 2

Pairing: girl reader x ruki

Genre: fluff

After the main setlist, the boys came back into the dressing room to freshen up before the encore

You knew how stressful this time was, as idols usually had only 5 minutes before they had to go back to the stage

However, while the band were in the middle of playing main setlist, the stylists told you the band had 10 minutes before the encore, so you didn’t have to stress as much

But....you had to help touch up Ruki’s makeup, which was the hardest out of the members

Yikes that oily af skin and those blemishes

I’m not roasting him at all :)))

As Ruki went into the other makeup room to change into the tour goods, you grabbed the towel the stylists gave you to pat off his sweat later

As you were waiting, you felt your heart begin to race at the thought of doing Ruki’s makeup again.

Why were you nervous? He was just another client...a really charismatic and good looking client.

Your thoughts were interrupted when Ruki sat in the makeup chair you stood next to and saw that he was already changed into the tour shirt and black jeans, so you began to quickly pat his face with the towel

You then carefully wiped makeup remover across Ruki’s face, avoiding the eye makeup, to remove the foundation

Ruki felt his heart race slightly again at the distance between the two of you, and the light scent of your perfume as you wiped his face, but he quickly banished the thoughts from his head, since he needed to think about the upcoming performance

During that time, the two of you didn’t speak a single word to each other because were so concentrated on your work, and he was focused on the encore, so both of you didn’t have time to think about your feelings

You thoroughly reapplied the MAC primer, concealer, and foundation that were provided with your light technique that you used on idols, since MAC products could feel quite heavy on the skin

You then set everything with your holy grail Etude House Fix and Fix loose powder (of which you tried to hide from the senior stylists so they wouldn’t scold you for using a Korean roadshop product on Ruki)

Surprisingly, you managed to finish with two minutes to spare so Ruki could re-hydrate before the encore

FAST FORWARD TO AFTER THE CONCERT

Everything was packed up and finished by 11pm, and you were invited to go to dinner with the staff

At first, you were hesitant because it was late and you just wanted to go home and crash, but the senior makeup artists offered to pay for the food since you were the youngest there

So you agreed to go because free food

You joined them in their van, while the band members got their own van to the BBQ restaurant

After settling into a seat in the van, the other stylists were chatting among themselves while you scrolled through your Instagram feed

As you were scrolling down the “GazettE” hashtag to get to know the band better, Reita’s makeup artist nudged your arm

“Say, _______-chan, how did you find it today?”

Your cheeks turned slightly pink as you could only think of Ruki and how handsome he was. However, you shook off the thoughts before answering, “It was interesting. I’ve never worked with a visual kei band before, so the experience was quite different to what I’m used to. Especially because the makeup style was pretty different to idols.”

Aoi’s makeup artist giggled. “Was that all? I think Ruki-san seemed quite excited every time he saw you.”

Heat rushed to your cheeks and ears. Did you hear correctly? Ruki? Excited about you? Even though you wanted to know more about his reactions, you knew they were joking, so you only giggled and shook your head.

Reita’s stylist nudged her co-worker’s shoulder in disapproval. “Don’t say stuff like that in front of the rookie! You know how much trouble we’ll be in if a scandal breaks out.”

The other woman only rolled her eyes. “Oh, you know I’m only playing around. As if a scandal can break out from talking among ourselves in a private place. Even ________-chan knows, right?”

You felt a slight drop in your chest when she said it was only a joke.

You had no choice but to swallow and nod quickly.

Why did you feel this way towards a man you barely knew?

Before you knew it, the vans arrived at the front of the BBQ restaurant in Shinjuku

You got out of the van along with the senpai stylists, keeping close to them.

You looked around to search for the other staff and band members themselves, to which you saw them coming out of the vans a few metres away from you.

Your heart felt like it skipped a beat when you saw Ruki’s figure and blond hair

When he took a glance at you, you gasped softly and turned away to face your senpais

Ruki smirked when he saw your reaction.

The cute types, huh...there’s always something about them...

When everyone had gathered, the managers and band went in first, while the rest of the staff including you followed.

Because there were so many people in your group, you had to be assigned two tables

The band, managers, and some staff took one table, while you, the stylists, and other staff took the other

Of course you were a bit disappointed that you couldn’t sit near the band (ahem, Ruki), but you couldn’t complain

So you just sucked it up and sat next to Reita’s stylist

After all the orders were made, your senpais made conversation with you, asking how you found working with the band

You told them that the guys were really nice and pleasant to work with, and that they treated you well especially since you were new to working with them

Little did you know that a few seats away on the other table, Ruki was listening to what you were saying, especially to the things you said about him

Upon seeing Ruki’s expressions, Uruha nudged his arm with his elbow.

“You look unusually happy about something,” he teased. “Is it that girl?”

Ruki made a disgusted expression. “As if. She looks too young for me anyway. You know I’m not one of those love-at-first-sight people.”

Uruha chuckled in amusement. “Yeah, sure. Keep telling yourself that. But something tells me you’ve got a thing for her already.”

“Shut up.”

A few minutes later, you excused yourself from the table to go to the bathroom.

Ruki noticed this as a perfect opportunity to talk to you privately, but he decided to wait before going so it wouldn’t look like he wanted to follow you.

After you finished washing and drying your hands, you opened the bathroom door to see Ruki leaning against the wall as he was waiting outside in front of the door.

Your heart felt like it stopped. “R-Ruki-sa-?”

“Shh,” he hushed, putting his index finger to his lips, and covering your mouth with the other hand.

Your eyes widened at the sudden closeness and intimate contact. You could feel your face turning pink while your heart began to race.

“Call me Taka.”

You blinked in surprise as he pulled his hand away from you.

Taka? Is that his real name?

“T-Taka? Why-”

Ruki leaned closer to you, making your face heat up. “There might be fans around,” he said quietly, “You can call me by my stage name when we’re in a quiet place.”

You gulped, and nodded reluctantly, still uncomfortable with calling him by a name other than Ruki.

“Alright...Taka-san.”

Ruki gave you a small smirk, making your heart race again

You smiled and bowed your head shyly. “I-I’ll get back now-”

Ruki grabbed your wrist as you began walking off.

“T-Taka-san?” you said, facing him completely flustered at this point.

“Give me your LINE. I just wanna make sure that this isn’t the last time I get to see you.”

At that moment, your eyes widened. You felt like your breathing and heart stopped at the same time.

HOLY SHIT!!!! THE HOT CLIENT ACTUALLY SAID THAT TO ME. WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING?! What does this mean?! How could someone as cool as Ruki want to see me again?

“Are you sure? I’m still a rookie makeup artist, so I don’t think I can-”

“Fuck the rules,” Ruki jammed in nonchalantly. “I’m not about that life.”

Your jaw dropped.

How could someone just disregard rules so easily like that? Doesn’t he care that the both of you could get into serious trouble if your seniors found out?

Not that you were complaining. Ruki had captivated you since you first saw him.

You swallowed a gulp again before pulling out your phone to exchange LINE IDs with Ruki.

After doing so, you excused yourself to get back to the table.

“Enjoy the rest of the night,” Ruki said to you.

“Thank you. You too.”

When you got back to your seat, the food had already arrived, and everyone on your table was waiting for you.

“_______-chan, you’re finally back!” Reita’s stylist said.

“Ah, I’m sorry to keep you waiting.”

“Never mind that, your face is so red!” Kai’s stylist called out jokingly, “Have you been drinking in the bathroom?”

You clapped your hands to your cheeks. SHIT! 

“N-no, of course not!”

“I’m kidding. Sit down, you must be starving!”

You nodded. “Y-yes. I’m sorry again to make you wait.”

The night passed by without you or Ruki speaking to each other.

When it was time to leave, you went into the van with the rest of the stylists.

As soon as you sat down, you felt your phone vibrate to signal that you received a LINE message.

Taka: Text me when you get home

You furrowed your eyebrows. That’s it? I guess he is a man of a few words...

_______: Okay, I will. _______: It was nice meeting you today!

You didn’t get a reply after that, though you weren’t surprised

It was 1am by the time you were dropped off in front of your apartment block.

You said your goodbyes to the stylists as you left the vehicle, wishing them goodnight.

As soon as you got into the elevator, you suddenly felt the fatigue hit you all at once.

You were up since 6am, so you couldn’t wait to crash

When you got inside your apartment, you greeted your parents sluggishly. “Tadaima...”

“_______! Okaeri,” your mum called from the kitchen. “Did you have dinner yet?”

“Yeah, we had yakiniku, and the staff paid for it.”

“How was it today?” your dad asked from the dining table, looking up at you from the newspaper he was reading.

You only yawned. “So tiring...” you mumbled as you took your shoes off. “I hate working such long hours...”

“Yes, I know,” your dad replied, “But it’s part of life. How were the clients?”

“It was a visual kei band called the GazettE,” you answered, “They were really nice guys. Apparently they’ve been around since 2002.”

“That long?” your mum said, “They must be very good musicians. Anyway, don’t get involved with visual kei men. They only cause trouble for women from what I heard.”

You rolled your eyes as you made your way to your room. “As if I would. Besides, these guys are a lot older and more mature than other visual kei artists, and they have a big reputation to uphold, so I don’t think they would want to get involved with girls anyway.”

As soon as you got into your room, you put your duffle bag next to your desk before flopping onto your bed.

You suddenly remembered Ruki’s message, and grabbed your phone to text him.

_______: I just got home!

You then changed into your pyjamas before going to the bathroom to brush your teeth and cleanse your face.

After you had finished the rest of your skincare routine, you checked your phone to see that Ruki had replied.

Taka: Alright. Thanks for today. I hope to see you again soon.

_______: Me too. It was fun today!

Taka: It was. Lives are always like that. Taka: Who are you gonna work with next?

_______: I think I’ll be working with another Korean idol group, since they’re always coming over here

Taka: Well then, goodnight. You did well today.

_______: Goodnight, Ruki-san, rest well

You squealed into your pillow, kicking your legs up and down on your bed as if you were a high school girl in love

Though, you weren’t in love with Ruki; you just found him super attractive and charismatic

Let’s just say you went to sleep on cloud nine

On the other side, Ruki was lying in bed with his hands on his face in embarrassment.

He couldn’t believe what he did.

He literally told you in real life AND in text that he wanted to see you again, and made it sound like he was interested in you when he knew he shouldn’t be.

Ruki then remembered Uruha’s words earlier that day: “...if you do end up dating her, or someone like her, don’t break her heart. She seems too innocent for people like us.”

He didn’t realise how you could unearth the feelings he worked so hard to bury for so long. He didn’t want to risk it again, and he didn’t want to risk hurting you either. After all, you were a lot younger than him, so he didn’t want to take that innocence away from you.

But there was something about you that he couldn’t take his mind off from.

#mine. #ruki #the gazette #my writing #finally finished this part omg #do u guys want another??? a date w ruki maybe???? #👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀 #HOPE YOU LIKED IT!!

[coffeelouis]

does anyone even care that i’m doing these? oh well, here are this month’s fics! now, i thought i read a little less than average, as most of the month was spent consuming the monster that is red hands, but then i counted and i was actually right on track! look @ me, what a gem ✨

additionally, i’ve decided to start starring my favorites (i’ve gone back and done that one for previous ones too) so yaaaay 

⭐ so many birthdays (that i missed) by @tofiveohfive Louis doesn’t know nearly enough about science and the cosmos to explain how every atom in his being stands to attention; how his body immediately knows who he’s bumped into.It’s somewhat underwhelming when the first word he hears out of Harry’s mouth after twelve months is, “Oh.”AU inspired by Julia Michaels’ Into You

please forgive me if my lips quake by @disgruntledkittenface

Hi ! Got your number from your cat Lou. Just want to make sure they’re not lost, only visiting

Harry’s pet cat wing-womans her into a date.

⭐ Truly, Madly, Deeply (10 Things I Hate About You) by @sunsetmog

The first Louis had heard of Harry auditioning for X Factor was the night he’d turned up on Louis’ doorstep the day before leaving for Boot Camp, with a DVD and an illicit bottle of vodka.

Thing was, Louis hated secrets, and he really hated being made a fool of, and he really, really hated Harry Styles.

or: the one in which they’re all in sixth form together, and Harry auditions for X Factor without them.

snippits of the baby fic by @bananasandboots

Harry found out he got his ex pregnant the day after he realized and confessed to Louis (and slept with him) that he’d been in love with him for quite some time. It was actually in Louis’ POV which I’d never done before, and Harry makes the tough choice to try and make things work with the ex, and then flash forward about a year to when the ex has left him again (and the baby) and Harry has to deal with the fact that he’s still in love with Louis while trying to be respectful of the fact that he kind of broke Louis’ heart and Louis wouldn’t take kindly to him making another move again.

[this is an unconventional choice as the fic is not finished so i was really just reading the drabbles she’s posted because she doesn’t intend to finish but it was really good anyway so i’m including it]

All’s Fair in Love and Laundry by @larrymylove

“What the fuck are you wearing there, mate?” A female voice asked, laced with amusement.

Harry gritted her teeth and gripped a t-shirt tightly in her hands as she replied in a taut voice, “Look, I’ve had a long day and this is all that was clean. So I’m obviously doing laundry. Also, obviously, I’m not in the mood to defend my fashion choices right now after said long day, so…”

“Whatever,” the voice said, “You look like you’re wearing a fucking parachute. A fucking parachute with cats on.”

Harry has run out of clothes to wear. So she puts on the hideous nightgown Gemma got her for Christmas and prays no one sees her as she makes a mad dash to the laundry room to fix her clothing situation. Of course, the universe hates her (or maybe loves her) because in walks the most beautiful girl Harry has ever seen. Banter and teasing ensue and maybe a bit of romance too. And maybe, just maybe, that ugly nightgown wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

i gotta get better! by @dystopianharry

harry’s sex life has been pretty nonexistent since he broke up with his last non-soulmate boyfriend. after a chance encounter with someone online, he decides to enlist them to help him out. no strings attached, obviously.

or soulmates can feel each others’ pain and harry has some kinks he wants to explore.

unplugged by @dinosaursmate

“I’m so fucking horny, Louis.” Louis closed his eyes, taking a second to compose himself. That little prickle of arousal was swelling and it needed to be stopped. “Harry, we’re at work. Control yourself.” He opened his eyes and cocked his eyebrow. “If my boss catches you in here-” “Louis, you know as well as I do that all the managers are at a conference today,” Harry smirked. “And that means you are the most superior person in the building right now.” “Yeah, that’s true,” Louis laughed. - Harry and Louis didn’t have sex last night and Harry’s finding it difficult to cope.

so hot, give me your gasoline by @ballsdeepinjesus

Louis grins and cocks his head to the side, rolling his shoulder against the door. “Just wanted to get to the know the boy who was ogling my ass throughout the entirety of Act III, Scene IV.”

Harry blushes and toes his feet along the floor, biting his lip. In retrospect, he’s a little taken aback by his shamelessness throughout the play. He’s always been told that he’s quite single-minded, but he took it to another level tonight. He’s not sure he regrets it. He looks back up at Louis and trails his eyes over his body. No, he definitely doesn’t regret it.

[louis is hamlet. harry is an admirer.]

I’m Broken, Do You Hear Me? by @ropewithnoanchor

Louis starts acting weird and distant around Harry, and it takes Harry a little while to put together what’s wrong. When he finally does, he’s determined to help Louis see just how much he loves every piece of him.

You Watched Me Sink by @bananasandboots

They’ve discussed it a few times - the boyfriend thing. It’s not like it’s some forbidden, horrific, abandon hope all ye who talk about furthering the relationship sort of subject. They’re mature adults. They’re in tune with their feelings, their hearts’ desires, the way those butterflies swoop in their bellies whenever they so much as hold each other’s hands. They like each other. A lot. It’s mutual, they know. But for now, they’re just content to enjoy the simplicity of what they have, and what they have is great.

When dating in secret stops being enough, then they’ll discuss that too.

Or, the one where Harry teaches Sex Ed and sneaks around with the drama teacher, and doesn’t realize how out of tune he is with his true feelings until everyone else figures it out for him.

red hands by @dystopianharry​

“I’ve never told anyone,” Harry murmurs, voice so soft no one else would be able to hear, if it wasn’t just the two of them.

“But you’ve told someone,” Louis says firmly. “And that’s not gonna fucking happen around here. You don’t speak a word of it, or someone’s going to kill you, and we can’t let that happen.”

*

a dystopian au in which harry, an ex-soldier who’s escaped from his government run camp, accidentally stumbles across the biggest rebel movement in the country, and louis, one of the rebellion’s mysterious leaders who appears to hate him, seems to simultaneously have an obsession with keeping him alive. or: harry is wanted for treason, niall hasn’t changed in four years, liam is always smiling, and louis is angry. like, really angry.

sweet, sweet fate by @bottomlinsons​

Harry’s lived with a NSFW soulmark for almost twenty-five years now. When he finally meets the man responsible, he gives him a little piece of his mind.

as luck would have it by @bottomlinsons​

It’s intense, the realisation that these last five seconds are going to ruin his entire career. Everything he’s worked for, since he was fucking thirteen, is going to be gone. He’ll be disqualified, from the French team first, and from the Quibs right after. The press is going to tear him to fucking pieces.

He just wanted a fucking coffee.

(Or, Louis' about to play the biggest game of his life. A spiked cup of coffee and his old Hogwarts crush isn't gonna distract him.)

#mine

[floral-suits]

Insecure

Warnings: possible trigger for people going through weight problems

You had originally wanted to attend the fashion show in Shanghai to watch Harry perform, but there were too many obstacles in the way. If you really wanted to, you could have gone all too easily. But the pressing obstacle was that you would be in a room full of flat toned stomachs and too many of Harry’s exes. Considering just how insecure you are, you knew that those things wouldn’t mix well and that’s why you made an excuse about not being able to get a visa.

Because of that, you had settled with just watching the show in your shared living room when it aired, but what you didn’t expect to see was Harry looking at Candice Swanepoel like he should be looking at you; with what seemed like utmost lust.

You couldn’t take your eyes off of the television as Harry couldn’t take his eyes off of her. When she finally exited the stage, you snapped yourself out of it and quickly turned off the television in a haste.

You thought that watching the show on television would be much better than being there to see it in real life, but now you weren’t so sure. You assumed the problem was gonna be all of Harry’s exes, all of his beautiful exes that were superior to you in every way, or at least it seemed. But it wasn’t, it was a new girl. A girl that was married for god’s sake. You knew you shouldn’t have been panicking but you couldn’t help it. You were everything Candice was not; insecure, chubby, sarcastic, brunette. The list could go on.

This is what brought you to in front of the full sized mirror in your bathroom with your shirt somewhere on the floor, just marvelling at all the random marks and scars that were invisible to you before.

You were criticizing yourself so hard in that moment which led you failing to notice the door being shut and the clatter of boots hitting the floor, slowly nearing where you were standing.

It wasn’t until Harry had his arms wrapped around you from behind that you snapped out of your gaze and met his eyes in the mirror.

“Love, what’s going on ‘ere?” Harry murmured into your ear.

You suddenly turn around in his arms, “Am I pretty enough for you, Harry?”

His arms tighten the slightest bit.

“Of course you are love, you’re the prettiest girl I know,”

“Oh,” you can’t help but think a snide comment to yourself, other than Candice, that is.

“Why are you asking, Baby?”

“No reason,” you say, head still down facing Harry’s boots.

Suddenly your chin is lifted up and you’re staring into his emerald eyes.

“Love, this isn’t normal, what brought this on?” Harry asked concerned, gazing into your eyes and trying to find the cause of your suddenly more apparent insecurities.

It’s like a switch had turned off in you, because when he said that, you quickly ripped yourself out of his arms and grabbed your shirt.

“Wo-oah there, love, what’s going on?”

“You fucking know exactly what’s going on, Harry. And so does everyone else who’s watched the fucking show!” you scream out.

“What in the bloody hell are you talking about?” Harry shouts out, equally as loud and as harsh as you had.

“Oh, don’t act dumb, I saw the way you were looking at her.”

Your words get quieter as you finish the sentence, losing your anger. The rage in you had now sizzled down to a deep sadness.

Harry notices the change in your voice and waddles over to you.

“I still don’t understand, Y/N.”

You look up and see his concerned face, did he really not know?

“Ca-andice,” you stutter out, defeated.

“What about her?”

“She’s fucking gorgeous, Harry.”

“She’s everything I’m not,” you say in a quieter voice afterwards.

“Oh, baby, no. No! You’ve got it wrong, we’re just friends,”

“Harry, don’t deny it. I saw the way you were looking at her. It was the way you’re supposed to look at me!”

“Y/N, I love you. No Victoria’s Secret model of any kind could ever replace you, baby.”

“Bu-but what about all of your exes?” you question.

“Oh, my baby,” Harry murmurs, now understanding why you’ve been acting the way you are. He brings you into his arms with a tight hug and kisses your forehead.

He pulls back just for a moment to look into your eyes, he’s always said that they’re his favorite part of you.

“Let me show you, love,”

He guides you back over to the mirror and forces you to look at yourself with him.

“Wanna know what I love about you, Y/N?” he asks.

You stare up at him, a signal to continue.

“I love your cute little button nose,” he starts, bopping it, making you giggle a bit. He lets out a smile, happy to finally see you looking a bit less down.

“I love your sense of humor, no joke moppet, you make me laugh harder than anyone else. I love how your hands fit perfectly in mine and I love how you aren’t afraid to show your opinion.”

“I love your quirky sense of style and I love how you’re so nice to everyone, no matter what.”

As Harry continues, things slowly get dirtier.

“I love your big doe eyes, and how innocent they look when you’re sucking me off, yea?”

His hand moves around your waist, and twists you around so you’re facing him.

When he’s got you where he wants, his hands move to your plump behind and squeeze tightly, a signal for you to jump.

You do so and rest your head on his chest as he leads the both of you to your master bedroom.

After closing the door with his foot, Harry sets you down on the bed.

“More than anything, I love your sweet little moans and whimpers as my cock pounds into you.”

You can feel your body heating up and Harry can tell as well. He sits you up so you can remove your shirt for the second time that night.

Once it’s off, Harry’s looking at you with an admiration that makes your insides light up.

He leans over you and reaches for your bra clasp. He lifts your bra off arm by arm and soon enough, you’re all naked but panties.

Harry sets himself on top of you softly, one elbow holding up the most of his weight.

His head dips in and you feel his wet tongue circling and suckling your left breast as his free hand moves to your right.

“Ha-Harry,” you start to moan.

“That’s it babygirl, that’s what I love to hear. It’s my favorite sound, hear me?”

After giving your right breast the same amount of tender love, Harry moves down towards your stomach.

“I love this tummy, baby. Wanna know why, yea?” Harry questions as he grasps onto your mini love handles.

You don’t nod, but instead continue to look at him. He takes this as a yes and goes on, “Because they’re so nice and pretty. I love holding onto ‘em when we’re together. Much nicer than some twigs, yea?”

You can’t help but smile, Harry’s attempts to lift up your spirit were working.

“Oh and we can’t forget about your sweet pussy, can we?”

You gasp at Harry’s vulgar comment and look up to see him grinning up to you from below.

He scooches down and kneels at the edge of the bed, pulling you down with him by your ankles as he goes.

Once he’s got you as he desires, he’s immediately diving his tongue in, not wasting any precious time.

You hadn’t even realized just how wet you were until you felt Harry’s tongue touch your heat. And god, you were wet. Harry knew how to make you crazy without trying, so whenever he did, it was like heaven.

“You like that, love?” Harry groans into you as he continues to lick you up and down, diving in a few long digits too.

Your back arches at the sudden feel of pleasure than only his fingers can bring you.

Harry wraps his arms around your waist like he had earlier to keep you still so he can keep eating you out. It’s almost like he enjoys giving you pleasure more than the other way around.

“Louder for me, can you do that, Y/N?”

You can feel Harry smirking up against you as he says this.

“I want you screaming my name, baby,”

“Fuck, H-Harrry,” your voice seems to be a few tones higher from the energy running through your body. Hearing his raspy voice from down below only adds to your lust.

Harry can tell as you begin to get close to your high, he knows your body better than you know it yourself.

“Eyes open for me, sweetheart. God, Y/N, I wanna see those beautiful eyes,”

You open up your eyes as he requests and seeing him looking up back at you is the final push for you.

You feel yourself clench around him all too soon and then Harry’s licking his lips as if he just had his tastiest meal, gazing at you with a look of certain lust, the look you crave from him.

“Tastes so good baby, I want you to taste how sweet you are,” he says, your eyes widen at this, you had never tasted yourself before.

He laughs at the expression on your face but doesn’t seem to care too much about it because the next thing you know, he’s kissing you.

It was a peculiar taste quite honestly, it wasn’t very apparent but you could tell there was a certain sweetness to it. Maybe that’s what he likes.

“Don’t you ever doubt my love for you again, I love you too much to have you feelin’ that way,”

_____

I just wanna say that every single one of you are beautiful and I love you all so much. Your body never has to be a certain way and it’s perfect the way it is.

#loving! harry #harry styles #vs18 #victoria's secret #vsfashionshow #shanghai #candice swanepoel #candice swanepoel x harry styles #one direction #harry styles imagines #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles one shots #one direction imagines #1d

[thesportssoundoff]

“Card Depth Is A Presumption You’ve Got Headliners To Begin With” The UFC 220 Preview

Joey

Jan 17th, 2018

If we learned a single damn thing in 2017, it's that undercard depth has never ever mattered as little as it does these days. Look at the cards for UFC 211 and UFC 218 then explain to me why UFC 210 and UFC 219 outdrew those. Card depth and card quality matters little to MMA fans these days, opening the door to instead debate how MMA has swung from "these are all great fights!" to "this FIGHTER is all I need to see on it!" This all brings us to UFC 220 which will likely divide MMA fans into two distinct categories:

1) This card has the biggest main and co-main event! I need to see this! Everything else is just a bonus!

2) This card sucks and if you remove the main and co-main event then it's not even worth watching on Fight Pass!

Neither opinion is wrong per se. If names and fights with numbers next to those names really get ya giddy then this show is not for you probably. It is VERY VERY top heavy and that's very true as it pertains to fights 3 to 11. At the same time, you are getting THE biggest fights possible the UFC could make at this time sans McGregor. The two best HWs and the two best LHWs on the planet who are eligible to fight (side eye to Jones) are fighting. That should be enough to sell you on this show with a lot of really well put together evenly matched fights on the undercard which have high potential for drama and violence. If you're one of those fight fans who bemoans the lack of stars then you can look at fights 3-11 as opportunities for some good young fighters to step up and elevate themselves. There actually are some damn good fights beneath the surface and I'm going to try to point some of those out.

Fights: 11

Debuts: 4 (Matt Bessette, Julio Arce, Dan Ige, Brandon Davis)

Fight Changes/Injury Cancellations: 3 (Charles Rosa OUT, Julio Arce IN vs Dan Ige/Arnold Allen OUT, Matt Bessette IN vs Enrique Barzola, Jamie Moyle OUT, no replacement sought for Maryna Moroz )

Headliners (fighters who have either main evented or co-main evented shows in the UFC):  5 (Gian Villante, Stipe Miocic, Francis Ngannou, Volkan Oezdemir and Daniel Cormier)

Fighters On Losing Streaks in the UFC:  2 (Gleison Tibau, Gian Villante)

Fighters On Winning Streaks in the UFC: 7  (Volkan Oezdemir, Stipe Miocic, Francis Ngganou, Shane Burgos, Alexandre Pantoja, Enrique Barzola, Islam Makhachev)

Main Card Record Since Jan 1st 2016 (in the UFC): 23-9-2

Stipe Miocic- 4-0 Francis Ngannou- 5-0 Daniel Cormier- 2-0-1 Volkan Oezdemir- 3-0 Calvin Kattar- 1-0 Shane Burgos- 3-0 Gian Villante- 1-3 Francimar Barroso- 1-2-1 Thomas Almeida- 1-2 Rob Font- 3-2

Too High Up- Gian Villante vs Francimar Barroso

Listen fellas, I get it. They're big guys and Villante is good for a brawl with the right opponent. Francimar Barroso is not the right opponent. He'll NEEEEEVER be the right opponent. This has all the makings of a fun round one where both guys trade, a second round where Barroso smothers VIllante and a third round where two big exhausted 205ers drag balls through some awful striking exchanges and sloppy takedowns. This fight is not a PPV main card worthy fight and I say that knowing full well that that there are not many options to take its place.

Down Too Low- Sabah Homasi vs Razak Al Hassan

An argument could be made for Alexandre Pantoja vs Dustin Ortiz which I could definitely hear you out on. The problem is that on a card with a bunch of genuinely massive human beings, Ortiz and Pantoja going from the prelims to the main card would probably just get them unneccessary angst from fight fans. Stupid but it is what it is. Sabah Homasi vs Razak Al Hassan will almost certainly be a tremendous fight of the night type brawl and I'd GLADLY welcome them onto this main card which could use a bit more oompah on it.

Stat Monitor for 2018:

Debuting Fighters (Current number: 0-1): Matt Bessette, Julio Arce, Dan Ige, Brandon Davis

Short Notice Fighters (Current number: 0-0): Matt Bessette, Julio Arce

Second Fight (Current number: 1-3): 0

Cage Corrosion (2-3): Gleison Tibau

Twelve Precarious Ponderings

1- So did you know that Gleison Tiabu has been in the UFC since 2007 and he's NEVER headlined an event? Ever? Not even a free one! Dude's never even had a co-main spot! He's also JUST 34 years old which is perhaps even more amazing. I would've gone at least 10 years older without even batting an eyelash.

2- I want to use this opportunity to discuss how rare what it is we're getting here. For the first time in forever and a day, we're getting two title fights that genuinely feel like a battle of the best two fighters in their respective divisions. Francis Ngannou debuted in the UFC as an ultra raw rookie with high upside and all he's done is finish everyone he's fought from hype prospects to established veterans to top 5 heavyweights. Stipe Miocic could, legitimately, be on his way to building the greatest HW resume of the modern era with a win over Ngannou (and potentially Cain Velasquez if his body is actually capable of going through a fight camp). In the LHW division, Volkan Oezdemir has done nothing but beat top 10 LHWs since showing up in the UFC, two of those in violent dramatic fashion as an underdog. Until Jon Jones finds a way to not be some sort of fuck up, Daniel Cormier is the best LHW in the world. Simply put end of discussion. These two title fights exist in weight classes where convenience more often than not determines title shot opportunities---but these two fights are legitimately great.

3- Do NOT "get sucked" in the words of Bill Parcells. Simply put, don't even get worked into believing that either Stipe Miocic or Francis Ngannou are anything but excellent fighters in a division devoid of excellent fighters. These two guys are, without question, great fighters with skins on the wall and skills of the highest order. Don't believe Miocic was never good if he loses and don't believe Ngannou was exposed if he loses to the CHAMPION of the most hectic division in MMA.

4- Of note, Miocic has a reputation as being a fantastic wrestler. He is without question very good BUT.....the only stylistic matchup I can think of similar to what Miocic has here is when he fought JDS. He went 1-18 vs JDS in their first fight and gassed himself out spamming takedowns.

5- Curious to see how Ngannou responds to Stipe's speed because there's probably no HW who moves as well as Miocic does. It's a vastly different level of athleticism between he and Overeem.

6- We can all pretty much figure that Cormier is going to hit a wall soon. He's got decades of competing in combat sports in some form or fashion for quite a while but beyond that, his style of fighting is really not one designed for long term success. The general rule of thumb is that 37 or so is when the high level wrestler starts to break down and Cormier is 38 coming off a KO loss. This opens up a very unique challenge going into a fight vs a guy who hits really hard. Is Cormier basically burnt out from years of fighting and injuries? With Jon Jones likely to be back before we all know it, I'm assuming Cormier has to know that if he can get by Volkan, there's not really an immediate challenger who would prevent the big cash out fight vs Jon Jones.

7- DC does his best work in the clinch. Volkan seems to excel against the fence. You thinkin' what I'm thinkin' bout?

8- There are people who like to get all twisted and wrapped up in Volkan Oezdemir's UFC debut. Everybody knows it's on short notice and he gassed out. What most people DON'T know is that Volkan got the call while training to take a fight at HW so that probably had a lot to do with his general conditioning as well. He'll be at a serious disadvantage vs Cormier but I can't imagine it'll be AS bad as it looked vs OSP if we get into the 2nd or 3rd round.

9- TheAntiCool has predicted that 170 lbs is going to be the division where there's a heavy sense of upheaval with new people emerging and breaking into the top 10. I could see that but for me, I think it's 145 lbs where we're going to see a big changing of the guard. One of those figures who could potentially really take that step up is Shane Burgos. Burgos has some squintable Conor McGregor qualities, primarily in how good his hands are and how he can absorb punishment in exchange for pressure for a consistent clip before he finds you. When he hurts guys, he can either take them out or take them out of their gameplan enough to the point where he has you either 1) fighting at his pace and his range or 2) retreating and hoping he'll leave you alone long enough for you to do something to slow him down. Throw in a solid wrestling base, a great camp (Jimmie Rivera, Lyman Good etc etc) and seemingly solid cardio and you have some things that make you feel very confident in him going forward. ON THE OTHER HAND, there are some real Mike Perry qualities in his game which might make you want to hit the breaks. For starters, Charles Rosa gave him a lot of problem with volume and accurate strikes. Eventually Burgos got him when he needed to but the obvious story of the fight was that Charles Rosa had him figured out and Burgos was left trying to keep pace. You also always have to wonder about a fighter who marches forward, chin out  who relies on his power and combinations to win exchanges. Calvin Kattar, in a way at least, seemed more well rounded than Burgos in his fight vs Andre Fili back in July. Both guys are good FWs but Burgos has that It Factor where you just assume he's a guy destined for bigger things.

10- At this point, what do we say about Thomas Almeida? Anybody got any ideas? At 26 years old, Almeida has steamrolled every one he's supposed to steamroll and repeatedly and incessantly bonked his skull when he's gone upwards in the division. He didn't look bad vs Jimmie Rivera and had moments of success  BUT he was dropped seemingly any time Rivera landed cleanly and he struggled to exchange with Rivera without getting tagged. Rob Font is a bit like Rivera; the sort of guy who has all of the proverbial tools but simply can't get over the hump when he faces top competition.

11- Reminder that Sabah Homasi once ran off with a Bellator ring card girl after a show never to be seen again by Bellator.

12- Some of you guys might not have seen DWTCS (go watch it, it's fine and takes like an hr and 30 mins per episode) so lemme fill ya in a bit on some dudes who were on there who are debuting on this show:

Julio Arce- ROC champion and a guy who people have been saying would be in the UFC since about 2013. His two losses are to current UFC BW Brian Kelleher, trains with Jimmie Rivera and the crew at Tiger Schulman's. Pretty solid fighter although some may be higher than others on him. Beat Peter Petties on the show to get an eventual deal.

Dan Ige- Sort of came out of nowhere really. A solid Hawaiian fighter who is well rounded with good cardio. Fought Luis Gomez who is now the Titan FC featherweight champion on the show and beat him with a 3rd round RNC. Does seem to be a better fit for 135 lbs and I have concerns about how hittable he is.

Brandon Davis- Another fighter out of Alan Belcher's camp and you can see the Belcher influence in him. Sort of like a Jason Knight except his punches are a lot cleaner but he still takes plenty of damage and seems to relish getting into brawls. Dude had a tremendous fight to get a deal the night of against Austin Arnett. Didn't see a ton of grappling so that's a little worrisome.

Matt Bessette- Long time regional guy who fights on the East Coast, hits REALLY fucking hard and is well rounded given his 50 years in MMA. Lost to Kurt Holobaugh in a fight where he broke his hand/face but there's some controversy there as well.

Must Wins

1- Daniel Cormier

For me, Daniel Cormier's legacy is secure. He's in the top 5 of the greatest light heavyweights of all time and he's the second greatest LHW of the modern era. He's been a UFC champion (legitimately, if the former champ can't stop fucking up then you are the champ) and he's done some tremendous work in a short amount of time. Unfortunately I feel like I'm in the minority when it comes to the legacy of of DC. He just has to keep winning and if this is his final year in the sport then a loss to Volkan Oezdemir would be a pretty rough way to go out.

2- Shane Burgos

I feel like I've listed all of my concerns about Shane Burgos here but let's not mince words; dude is an amazing talent. At 26, he's got youth, high level experience and an undefeated record on his side. Burgos faces Calvin Kattar in his UFC main card debut and it's on a big show where he's going to get plenty of exposure.

3- Brandon Davis

The Tuesday Night Contender Series guys have lost before but most of those losses come from guys who didn't get original night contracts-----until Matt Frevola this Sunday. Davis is another guy who got a contract the night of and he faces a pretty stiff test in Kyle Bochniak. He'll have a pretty good size advantage on Bochniak and on the feet, I'm fairly certain he can piece him up as well. The downside is

Five Can't Miss Fights

1- Stipe Miocic vs Francis Nagannou

2- Thomas Almeida vs Rob Font

3- Volkan Oezdemir vs Daniel Cormier

4- Sabah Homasi vs Razak Al Hassan

5- Alexandre Pantoja vs Dustin Ortiz

#UFC #MMA #UFC 220 #Miocic #Ngannou

[mintyoongiskookie]

Just Work Stuff

Member: Jeon Jungkook

Genre: Fluff (OMG NOT ANGST FOR ONCE), humor, Fashion Worker!Jungkook

AU: “You’re older than me and a lot more professional and mature but you can’t help but laugh at my terribly childish jokes.”

Word Count: 2,529 sorry for any mistakes this is unedited 

A/N: BRUHHHH NO ANGST IT’S A MIRACLE!!! I was gonna do a secretary/business man one, but nope, I did this instead. Hope y’all like it!

      Another day, another five coffees, another smug co-worker, and more stupid immature jokes. Besides the fact that someday you’ll probably die from too much caffeine intake, you kinda looked forward to work. Well... More of a certain someone at the office.

      Your shoulders were hunched as you walked into the enormous building, clutching onto your black coffee for warmth. Your heeled boots clicked on the marble as you made your way to the gates, swiping your company card to get through. With your face buried in your knit scarf, you entered the elevator and pressed your floor. You cherished these quiet rides, having to  do nothing for a single minute. The rest of the day you were rushing around, fishing out outfits for the models, going to bougie shops to pick up orders, reading and re-reading and re-re-reading through important emails for the boss. But the second those double doors dinged and opened, you were met with pure chaos. There was an important fashion show happening at the end of the week, which meant everything had to be absolutely perfect or else quite a few people would be getting fired. People were already scurrying in front of you, trying desperately to hold onto the mounds of files, dressed, shoes, and coffee cups in their hands without dropping anything. Walking to your desk, you were accompanied by one of your best friends in the office - Jung Hoseok. He was probably the heartthrob of the company, and everyone loved him. To be honest, what wasn’t to like about him? He was perfect. He even substituted for models more times tan you could count, but he insisted to stay cooped up in his desk so he wouldn’t have to miss the office rush.

      “How many do you think will be gone this week? Five? Ten?” He took a sip of his coffee and ran a hand through his perfectly styled messy hair, his usual smile on his face.

      “Hopefully, none. We’ll be okay if we do everything right.” Hoseok was much older than you, him being in his late twenties while you were only twenty-three. You were an intelligent intellectual, getting into prestigious colleges early on, and graduating as the youngest in the class. people were shocked when you walked in one day, seeing your age on your resume, and your name being the topic in any whispers. The boss loved you, hired you, and had you working the next day. It was strange at first, having to get used to the age gap. But you were considered a comedian, your college humor cracking everyone up.

      He chuckled, helping you out of your long black coat. “If. That’s the catch.” He hung it up on the coat rack next to your desk, sitting himself on the top. “So what’s today’s plans?” Hoseok was your equal, both of you being the dynamic duo of the office. You two would work on everything together, from helping the models at shows to just getting paperwork done. Both of your desks were sat on either side of the entrance to the boss’s office, so you two were - thankfully - together for the whole day.

      Wrapping your yellow scarf around your chair, you checked your notepad. “Outfit help now, confirmation with the boss after, getting a new shipment from Versace, Gucci and Yves Saint Laurent at the meeting place. After that we have a giant dinner meeting with some other companies. Can you go to that, though? I thought you said something about going out with your family?” Hoseok had two kids and a beautiful wife, and they were quite possibly the most adorable family you had ever seen.

      His eyes widened. “Holy fuck, I do. God, shit, ugh, do I have to cancel on them?” You knew how much he loved his family, and the thought of having to cancel on them hurt both of your hearts.

      You smiled and laughed, hitting his shoulder. “I’ll take notes, go be a dad. Now c’mon, we all know how sad Tae gets if we aren’t there to help him pick out his Gucci.” We both laughed as we sped through the building, making our was to the exquisite storage room paced with the newest lines.

      “(Y/N)!!!!!! HOBI!!!” The deep baritone voice of Kim Taehyung caught your attention, his tall figure slithering his way over to you. “I thought you two were gonna leave me.” He playfully pouted as he crushed both of you into a hug. Taehyung was a world renown model, envied by all. You knew how privileged you were to even be in his presence at this moment, but to you, he was just another close friend. “Now, hurry hurry hurry I need your opinions!” He grabbed both of your hands and pulled you over to his... Expansive... Collection of clothing. You noticed some of the representatives from other companies here with their respective models, but you couldn’t help but stare at one in particular. He should’ve been a model too. But before you could get too deeply into fantasizing about him, Taehyung pulled you from your thoughts. “(Y/N)’s got a crushhhhh~”

      You learned a lot in college, and one thing was being able to hide your emotions. “I have a crush on a painting? I thought that was you, Mr. ‘I’m going to drag (Y/N) to a museum just to look at Van Gogh’s paintings’. Because I’m staring at that.” You jabbed your thumb in the direction of the painting next to the man you were staring at.

      He chuckled and turned back to Hobi, teasing you in a sing song voice. “Say what you want, but I saw you were staring at him~. His name is Jungkook. You’ll be seeing him at your meeting tonight.” How does he know all this? I never told him anything? You rolled your eyes, scanning over the huge rack of clothes to take the man off your mind, uttering a quiet ‘whatever’. You could feel eyes on you. You could just sense it. And your whole being was just praying that Jungkook didn’t catch you. You sat down on a chair, dragging it over to your two friends. Your coffee was finished, and Taehyung had left to change into his rehearsal outfit. 

      By the time  the run through was over, you could still feel someone’s eyes on you. Your boss, Mr. Kim Seokjin had sat with you during the pre show, so you and Hobi now had time to talk with the other models and reps. As if on cue, Taehyung came over with Jungkook and his model. You acted as if you didn’t notice, continuing to read through the notes Mr. Kim had you write down. At the sound of Taehyung’s forced cough, your eyes shot up, forcing a smile onto your lips.

      “(Y/N), This is Jeon Jungkook, and his model Park Jimin.” Both of the men were insanely handsome, and you graciously accepted their hands.

      “(Y/N) (L/N).” You shook their hands, noticing how long Jungkook’s dark eyes lingered on you.

      Tae must’ve noticed as well, so he cut through the silence and took matters into his own hands. “Jungkook here is the heir to his family’s throne. He’s known Jimin his whole life, and their company is very successful.” A buzzer rang over the speakers ahead, indicating that it was time to pack up everyone’s shit as fast as possible so they could continue preparing. Tae was called over somewhere else, as well as Jimin.

      In all of the rushing bodies, Jungkook’s gaze was still locked on yours. “I’ll be seeing you tonight at the dinner then?”

      Your words faltered the slightest, but you quickly regained yourself. “U-um, yes sir.”

      He chuckled, sliding a card into your palm as you both shook hands again. “You make me sound old, please, just call me Jungkook.”

      You smiled, knowing he was still much older than you, but you complied nonetheless. “Of course, Jungkook. I’ll see you tonight.” 

      You parted ways, trying to ignore how your pulse was throbbing in your ears.

      You and Hobi had returned from picking up the shipment, and the boss had let you both off early. He bid you farewell with a wave of his hand as he stepped into a taxi. “Have fun with your family!” You could hear his laugh from inside the taxi as he waved again. You made your way down the streets smiling, walking to your apartment. Your mind was drifting back to the Jungkook guy, your thoughts tangling with the state of reality. You could see him on everyone’s faces, reflecting in every shop window, and you couldn’t seem to understand why. Sure, he was attractive, almost everyone in your industry is. But there was something about him that caught your attention, and you had no idea why it was him in particular. You shook the feelings off, unlocking your front door. You smiled and greeted your dogs, pouring them some food, and heading straight to your bedroom to get dressed.

      After quiet some time, you were ready, and you made your way back down to the streets. You were cursing your lack of decision making skills for making you late, as you skipped on the whole taxi option. You composed yourself as you walked through the restaurant doors, nodding to the waitress at the front. You found the designated table at the large table near the westward window, finding only a few people gathered. Huh. So I’m not late. You were waved over by Seokjin, sitting next to him with your notebook in your lap. You greeted the others at the table, shaking hands with everyone. You felt those same eyes stabbing needles into you, the buzzing voices from all around you seemingly louder all of a sudden. Your eyes locked, his pupils blowing wider, a glint of mischief swimming around in them, a smirk growing over his lips. He was sitting next to you, feeling like you were enclosed in his grasp. And he was only shaking your hand. CALM. DOWN. YOU SOMEHOW GOT YOUR LIFE TOGETHER, DON’T LET SOMEONE WALK IN AND DESTROY IT BY SHAKING HANDS WITH YOU. 

      You retracted your hand hand away, sliding it down to pick up your pen. The point moved freely over the back page of your notebook, drawing comics of how you presumed the meeting would go. Little did you know, the man next to you was biting his cheek to keep from laughing. Guess he wasn’t just a flirt after all.

      By the time the other reps had arrived, you and Jungkook were having a full blown comic conversation. You had personalized your characters, doodling the company food fight, pulling down screens and pointing at graphs with a breadstick. You had both been unnoticed throughout the entire thing, everyone else’s eyes and ears being trained on their food and paperwork being moved around. You had no idea why you wee here, Jin was fully capable of doing this himself - and he was doing just that. Maybe he brought you for fun? Or food? Or accompaniment?

      Jungkook had been grinning ear to ear, trying to keep himself from bursting out laughing at your doodle of the fat man across the table eating your breadstick pointing stick. He was so much older; so much more mature, so professional, and he was laughing at your college humor doodles. It made you feel tremendously better.

      You two were invisible to the rest of the table, but at the thought of someone looking at you two, your heads shot up and toyed with your plate of food. By the time the “meeting” was over, you both had eight pages full of doodles and notes of the runways show in the margins. Hopefully neither of you would get fired.

      Hopefully.

      You shot up from your seats and walked out with each other, stopping at the door once you saw the pouring rain.

      “Shit.” Your voices rang in unison, laughs bubbling from your throats. You sighed and turned on your heel, walking out into the rain.

      “(Y/N)! Where are you going?”

      “Where do you think? My house.” You laughed and walked further out into the rain, stopping when his hand gripped your shoulder.

      “Bullshit. Not without me you aren’t.” He slips off his suit jacket - his crazy expensive suit jacket - and hands it to you as a replacement for an umbrella for the meantime. He was quickly getting soaked as he slung an arm around your shoulder and dragged you to the nearest Seven Eleven for an umbrella. You both stumbled into the small convenience store, leaning against the wall as you tried to catch your breaths from the sprints you did. You both looked at each other and laughed, your eyes trying not to wander down to the white dress shirt that was now almost transparent, showing his insanely toned torso. He pushed himself off the wall and grabbed two umbrellas and some packs of hot cocoa. He came back to you and handed an umbrella to you as he grabbed your hand in preparation for running back through the streets.

      You felt the tingles running up your arm, throughout your body - the sight of him dripping wet in a see through shirt not helping any. You stopped for a bit, looking up at him. “Why are you doing all of this? You could make it to your fancy penthouse with the snap of your fingers, but you’re walking me back to my apartment in a downpour?” He laughed, rubbing the back of his neck with the hand that wasn’t encasing yours.

      “You’re different from everyone I’ve met. You’re funny. I mean, hell, you’re younger than everyone, but it’s nice to see a change. And I don’t want to fuck up our doodling bond.” You laughed, ignoring the flutter of your heart as he spoke. No, stop. You two just met today, there’s nothing going on between you two. Just comics during boring meetings. That’s. All. He’s too rational to be with someone like me, he’s older and smarter and so... Fucking... Hot... NO STOP (Y/N) JUST FOCUS-

      “Good enough for me. Now let’s go!”

      He laughed, and oh, what a beautiful sound. He tugged you out the doors and ran down the streets with you, following your directions that were interrupted with both of your laughs.

      You made it to your apartment, inviting him inside. You both drew out dozens of comics with each other over hot cocoa and soup. It happened more and more often, both of you staying over at the others’ house multiple times a week, whether for drawings, or dinner, or... Getting tangled in each others’ sheets, the rooms being lit by the moon, your names rolling off of tongues, cries of pleasure bounding off the walls. He made everything better, and neither of you cared about anything other than each other. But, as time passed, you both cared about two other things - your two children.

#jungkook fluff #jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #jungkook au #jungkook scenarios #bts jungkook #bts jungkook au #bts jungkook scenarios #bangtan #bangtan boys #jungkook bts #bts jungkook smut #bts jungkook fluff #bts jungkook angst

[in-the-name-of-styles]

I’ll Find My Way Back To You//Part Three

SURPRISE! It’s short, I know, but I was in a mood to write and thought I should give you guys a filler of what’s about to come next. If you enjoyed reading it or if whether or not you guys want me to continue this, I would absolutely LOVE to here your thoughts on this one. Let me know HERE. Checkout my Masterlist HERE.

Part One / Part Two

Word Count: 1.5K

-

“What about this one?” you ask him as you twirl for him before turning back to look at the floor length mirror of the store.

“Hmm…” he scratches his chin with a small pout on his lips, before opening his mouth to answer you “s’very pretty, angel. But you know what would help me give my opinion better? If you would just tell me what’s the occasion for this shopping spree.”

“I told you it’s a casual lunch, didn’t I? Isn’t that enough?... Unzip?” you tell him, he follows and pulls down the zip. You enter then close the dressing room door back again before getting yourself out of the dress.

“But that’s not enough information! You got to give me more than that, love.” He whines. You shake your head at his persistent behaviour. Normally, the two of you wouldn’t find yourself in such a position because you share everything with Harry, but you want things to be completely settled by the time you tell everyone about your relationship with Louis relationship, even the boy outside your door.

“How’s El doing?” You attempt to change the subject. Thankfully it works.

“She’s good, thank you for asking. Actually, now that you have brought her up, she’s wondering if you would like to have lunch with her this weekend.” He questions you. You shut your eyes tight and shake your head rapidly, your glad Harry can’t see you right now. Not to get you wrong, you find Ella rather lovely, but she’s just too excited about every single thing and whenever you meet up with her, she clings on to you like a koala. You can’t understand her fascination towards you. Like, she literally makes you feel like a superstar she adores.

“Umm.. sure, of course.” You answer back hastily. You walk outside the dressing room and hold up the two dresses to him, as to ask him if they’re good enough. He nods and takes them from you so you can buckle up your shoes comfortably.

“I was meaning to talk to you about my new clothing collection I’m about to introduce. I need your advice on the vintage part of it, since I feel it’s very you.” You tell him as the two of you walk out of the store. Being the fashion industry and also knowing the boys has helped you tons to adjust to all the paparazzis, so as you walk back to your car with Harry, you just smile at some of them and wish them good evening before climbing into your car with Harry by your side. The whole world knows about your friendship with him. Initially, there were rumours about the two of you, but just like the passing years, they dissolved too.

“So back to your clothing line, I would love to look through them, angel. When should I drop by your place?” he asks you as you get the car back on the road.

“You can come home with me now, if you’re free?” You look at him for a split second before getting your eyes back on the road.

 “M’free-” he’s cut off by the shrill of your ringtone. You make the mistake of answering the call without checking the caller ID.

“Hello?” you answer.

“Ello, love. How do you feel about Soho? Or you prefer just sitting at home and…” The sounds of the words fade as you instantly look towards Harry’s direction. Eyes wide open, jaw kind of slacked, mind already trying to make up excuses for this situation. You watch as the smile on his face slowly drops and his staring at the vehicle audio player with a furrowed brow expression.

The clearing of your throat bring his attention back to you, but he shifts glance the car window just as fast as he looked at you, “Soho is just fine, L-Lou.” You mumble back at the speaker.

“Are you okay? Is it a bad time to call?” He asks through the speaker. Probably sensing the tense tone of your voice.

“Kinda…I’m driving.” you reply, stealing a quick glance at the boy sitting beside you.

“Well, I’ll let you go then. Goodbye, sweets.” He bids and hangs up before you can say goodbye.

The silence isn’t the comfortable silence you are used to when with him. It takes him good fifteen minutes before opening his mouth.

“Is this the casual lunch you were talking about? A casual lunch with Louis?” he puts an emphasis on the word casual. You let out a loud sigh, which causes him to look back at you, waiting for you to answer.

“Uh huh…” You nod.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asks in an accusatory tone. “Oh, wait is it because you don’t want me to feel left out?! Well, congratulations, YN. It worked.”

“It isn’t like that, H-” he cuts you off before you can complete your sentence.

“What is so important that you two feel the need to hide it from me? From when did you two start having lunch without me? When and how did you get so close to him? Is he like your new best friend now?!” He exclaims and fires questions at you left and right, “I’ve been noticing this from the time I came back from my filming for Dunkirk, it’s like you’ve replaced me with him! The two of you do everything together and never invite me, it’s like you have a much closer connection with him now, than you have with me… Like… Like you’ve forgotten me!”

After his outburst, only then he realizes that you have parked the car. You are looking at him, wide eyed, trying to think about for how long he has been feeling this way. But suddenly, you remember how he has too ignored your presence tons of time when he was away romancing with Ella.

“You’re acting as if you’ve been a better friend to me, Harry! What about all those times when you ignored my calls just to return them weeks later?! Why?.. Because you were too busy living in your romantic dreamland with Ella. I was cooperating, wasn’t I? Now when I’m living my own life, you are feeling neglected?! How is that fucking fair?!” you exclaim.

“I was working, YN! I wasn’t gallivanting! I just happened to meet her along the way. What’s the damn crime in that?” he scoffed trying to ridicule you.

“Well, exactly my point, Styles. While you were working, I was working my ass off too! Wasn’t gallivanting either! I just happened to develop a close friendship with him along the way!” you explain in a slightly raised tone. You stare back at him and take a deep breath, “No one replaced you, H. We just happen to have changed our priorities…” you say in a softer tone.

He looks at you helplessly, “YN, m’ in a relationship with Ella. Of course m’going to spend more time with her than you but that doesn’t mean that you’re any less im…. ” he abruptly stops before letting out a small gasp, “Are you seeing him, YN?!” he says loudly.

You jump at the sound of his deep voice filling the car, “Would you calm down? It isn’t that big of a deal!” You tell him.

“Isn’t that big of a deal?! You’re in a relationship with my best mate for fucks sake and neither of you considered telling me about it?” He yells angrily. Why is this affecting him so much you wonder?

“Oh my gosh! We are not in a relationship, Harry! This is just a first date!” You yell back. You and Harry fight plenty of times, the fights are more like short arguments.

But when the yelling starts, you know there is no going back, “How am I supposed to know that?! Oh hold on…Because you never tell me anything anymore!”

“Why is it bothering you so much?! It’s my life, Harry! I don’t need your permission for anything!” You snap.

“Maybe because I don’t want you to get hurt..that… that maybe I want to protect you?! Ever thought about that?!” He stumbles and retaliates.

“Yes, I’ve thought about it. But lately you haven’t proved that you could be bothered about me because guess what, H… You’re never present. You are no longer present in my life.” You croak out.

“So you’re saying it’s my fault that I finally have someone to cherish in my life? A companion…That I’m happy and not alone for once?!” he strikes.

“Are you hearing yourself?! The same thing is literally happening in my life! You can’t witness that? That I’m finally not alone and have a companion…” You laugh out in disbelief.

“You never told me about feeling lonely. You are so happy all the time. How am I supposed to know?!” He snaps. He knows he is lying but can’t bring himself to say the truth. His biggest nightmare is coming true. He’s losing you and there is nothing he can do. Your next words shut him up for good.

“I did, Harry. So many times… But just like I said for the past many months you’ve been so absent and distant that…” You take a deep breath before continuing,

“That Louis was there when you weren’t.”

-

Likes and reblogs are a blessing so if you wish please do so others can find my work! I LOVE YOU GUYS. THANK YOU FOR BEING SO LOVELY ALL THE TIME  :) xx

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[star-trekkin-across-theuniverse]

Cover You in Oil, Pt13

Word Count: 6455 Tags: @supermoonpanda @rayleyanns @sistasarah-sallysaidso @outside-the-government, @yourtropegirl @to-pick-ourselves-up-7, @ghostssss, @rampant-salamander, @saysay125,

Dum-E made a whirring noise as it lowered the windshield onto the car. Sally guided it down into place, pressing it against the urethane seal. Once she was sure it was secured, she replaced the trim and windshield wipers and admired the nearly finished work. She hadn’t yet seen Clint, but when she’d bumped into Steve coming into the garage, he’d suggested that Clint might be late rising, as he’d somehow stumbled into a drinking contest with Natasha after she and Tony had left the party.

“Okay, Dum-E, grab that rear windshield and meet me around the back?” Sally felt weird asking the robot to do things, but Tony had assured her that Dum-E would understand her commands. And it had, which had made installing the front windshield a cakewalk. She finished prepping the rear seal and urethane and guided the rear window glass into place, adjusting it with precision. She sighed and smiled. The car had gone together too fast, really, but Tony had all the toys to make it easier, and she hadn’t had a single issue getting her machined pieces to the front of every queue. She sprayed down the windshields with glass cleaner and removed the fingerprints and smudges. The car looked good. The metallic gleam of the cherry red paint gave it a raw power that she liked. As much as she wasn’t planning on admitting it to Clint, she liked it better than the purple of the previous Challenger she’d done.

She slipped into the driver’s seat and turned the engine over, listening to the roar of the hemi and nodding with a smile. She fastened her seatbelt and shifted into first, creeping through the garage to the door out onto the street. She indicated her turn into traffic and grumbled at the stop and go nature of things until she was able to get free of the congestion and headed toward Brooklyn.

“JARVIS, did Clint crash at the Tower last night, or did he head home?” She asked as she shifted gears. She felt her phone buzz in her coveralls before JARVIS responded.

“Biometrics in the Tower suggest he went home and the GPS on his phone suggests that’s where he is,” JARVIS answered.

“Can you dictate directions for me to get to his place?” She asked.

“Of course, Ms. Manners. You’ll want to take the next left.” JARVIS began to give directions much like a GPS, and Sally realized with a start that the AI had a bit of sense of humour when she overshot an intersection and he made fun of her. She pulled up in front of Clint’s apartment and parked.

“Is that Clint’s car, lady?” A small boy who looked like he couldn’t be older than five or six asked. Sally smiled at him.

“Sure is. Can you tell me which apartment is his?” Sally asked. The boy nodded and led her inside the building and up a couple flights of stairs, stopping in front of a non-descript door. He banged on it, and then ran and hid at the edge of the staircase, watching. Sally guessed Clint wasn’t exactly a morning person. The door swung open, and Clint stood there, naked, scratching the back of his head. Sally closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She opened them and stared directly at the centre of Clint’s forehead.

“Hey sweetheart, you missed one helluva party last night,” Clint stepped back, inviting her in. Sally raised an eyebrow.

“Did you lose your pants?” She asked. She heard the boy giggle from the stairs and winked in his direction before returning her eyes to Clint’s forehead.

“Huh? Oh, shit.” Clint dropped a hand to cover himself. “Yeah. They’re around here somewhere. Gimme a second.” He stepped back and shut the door. Sally could hear him rummaging around in his apartment, then heard a thump and a string of expletives. The boy at the stairs giggled again, and Sally turned to smile at him again, only to be distracted when Clint opened the door, a pair of plaid pyjama bottoms slung low on his hips. “How did you get here?”

“I drove,” Sally replied, quirking an eyebrow at him.

“How did you know where to come?”

“JARVIS.”

“Dude has a big mouth,” Clint grumbled. He rubbed his eyes and yawned, stretching his arms over his head. “I don’t get why you’re here.”

“I thought you might want to take Cherry for a spin.” Sally dangled the keys in front of his half-opened eyes. They shot open.

“She’s ready?” Clint asked. Sally nodded. “Why the fuck didn’t you say so? Gimme a minute!” He shut the door on her again. A fraction of a second later, he opened the door and pulled her inside by the front of her shirt, slamming the door behind her, and pushing her against the door. “Stay.”

Sally watched him as he ran across the apartment, looked out his window and let out a whoop, punching the air. He ran back to her without even realizing what he was doing, pressed her into the door and kissed her. Sally froze in stunned silence until Clint pulled away.

“What the –“

“Oh shit. Don’t tell Tony I did that. He’ll kill me,” Clint cringed. “I’ll be right back.” He dashed off around a corner, and reappeared moments later wearing a t-shirt. Sally eyed his get-up skeptically.

“You’re not seriously going to wear plaid jammies out in public?” She questioned.

“Are you questioning my decision-making skills, little miss couldn’t be bothered to bring someone out with her?” Clint shot back. “Allow me to drive you back to the Tower before Tony realizes you went out without a chaperone.”

“You do, and I tell him you kissed me,” Sally warned.

“So the car runs, right?” Clint changed the subject as he slipped his shoes on. Sally nodded, and Clint smiled and dragged her out into the hallway and down the stairs. “Good because Natasha just texted that she’s looking for you because your dress appointment is in less than an hour. And you’re going to need a shower before you go. Let’s see how fast I can get you back to midtown.”

Unsurprisingly, Clint knew the quickest route to get back to the Tower, and Natasha greeted them in the garage with a scowl.

“I’m surprised you’re standing this morning, Clint,” she commented, and then glanced at Sally. “You should hit the shower. Pepper’s meeting us down here in fifteen minutes. She has three appointments scheduled for dresses and she’s already fussing about being late to the first one.”

Sally sighed. “I have a change of clothes down here. I’ll scrub up. I had a shower before I came down this morning, and all I’ve done is the windshields.”

“Your choice,” Natasha shrugged. Sally headed to the bathroom and scrubbed her hands with pumice cleaner before changing. When she was finished, Pepper was standing by the car, admiring the finished restoration. She looked up at Sally and smiled.

“I have good news and bad news,” she started. “The bad news is that Kleinfeld has requested to reschedule your appointment. But the only appointments they have are for after you’ve left. I tried to press, but it just wasn’t going to happen. The good news is that I have another great store for us to go to, we’re no longer in a rush and I’ve had your mom’s wedding dress sent out to a cleaner that said they can have it done by this afternoon.”

“Okay.” Sally shrugged. “You’ve probably got a better feel for this kind of thing than I do, Pepper.”

“On account of my having been married so many times?” Pepper laughed. Sally blushed.

“I meant fashion. You’ve been spot on with all the fashion since I got here,” she explained, the words coming out in a rush. Pepper laughed again and shook her head.

“Come on, Happy’s got the car out front. Steve’s going to meet us there, he’s just grabbing a coffee,” she nodded toward the elevator. Sally glanced at Natasha and then to Clint.

“Steve’s seriously coming with?” She asked. Natasha nodded.

“Yeah, I had to cajole him a little, but he finally agreed. His eye is flawless, Sally, it’ll be worth it,” Natasha replied.

“Let’s go then.” Sally followed Pepper to the elevator and the three women stepped in. Clint had made no bones about the fact he was choosing his car over what he called was ‘the excessive torture of dress shopping’. Sally almost wished she could stay behind with him. She wasn’t entirely sure that he was wrong. Pepper could see her hesitance as they climbed in the car, but it mostly vanished when Steve climbed in with them, holding two Cap-sized coffees and handed one to Sally.

“Steel yourself, Sally. It’s all corsets and spanx for the rest of the day,” Natasha teased.

The first store was almost too quiet. There was faint background music of symphony music, but otherwise, there was no white noise that usually filled clothing stores. A woman greeted them at the front, and after directing them to take off their shoes, and smiling patronizingly at Steve, led them to a small room lined with dresses.

“Ms. Potts gave me your measurements, Ms. Manners, so I’ve pulled everything we have that’s available in your size,” the woman began.

“Anything with long sleeves can go, I want to wear gloves,” Sally started. “And you can call me Sally.”

“Gloves?” The woman looked surprised. “Gloves aren’t the fashion right now.”

“I want to wear gloves.” Sally was adamant. She couldn’t get the engine grime off her hands at the best of times. After a teardown like what she anticipating in Latveria, she doubted she would be able to get her nails clean either.

“But that’s not the fash-“

“With all due respect, this is Tony Stark’s fiancé,” Pepper interjected. “I’m sure she’ll be setting some style trends. Wouldn’t it be lovely to have one of your gowns attached to the biggest wedding of the year?” The saleswoman paled and nodded.

“Of course,” she agreed, casting a sidelong glance at Steve. “You aren’t the groom then?”

Steve laughed. “No, I’m the male critic.”

“Of course,” she said again, and stepped toward the wall of dresses. She pulled a number off the curtain rods and removed them to a rolling rack at the back of the room. “Was there anything else you would like to specify?”

“I like capped sleeves, and simple lines. I’d like to stay with a somewhat retro look,” Sally offered. “I know it sounds silly, but it’ll match my engagement ring.” She spun the ring self-consciously on her finger. The saleswoman flicked through the remaining dresses and removed another group.

“Let me just confirm your measurements, Sally,” she held up a measuring tape and gestured to a low platform in the centre of the room. Sally stepped up and waited. She followed the direction of the saleswoman and lifted her arms. Her t-shirt lifted a little, and she reached down to tuck it in. The saleswoman clucked.

“Heavens, your hands are filthy,” she commented, taking one of Sally’s hands in her own. “I’ll see if I can find some cotton gloves for you. I can’t have you touching the dresses like that.”

“I just scrubbed. Nothing is going to come off. I’m afraid my hands are somewhat stained from the work I do,” Sally explained. “It’s why I want gloves on the wedding day.”

“I can’t believe how filthy they are. Let’s go and see if we can’t get you a little cleaner. What on earth kind of work do you do?” The woman asked. “It’s almost as though you’re a mechanic or some other blue collar job. Welder?”

“You got it in one,” Sally forced herself to smile as she was led over to the sink. The woman offered her soap and then described how to wash her hands. Sally took a deep breath to calm herself before following her directions. When she dried her hands, the stain in the creases of her skin was just as dark as before, and there was no residue left on the hand towel she’d been given. Despite that, the saleswoman threw the towel into the garbage can beside the sink, and let out a little huff of air.

“I’ll go find some gloves.” She stepped toward the door back to the main part of the store. “Do not touch anything.”

Sally scowled at her retreating figure, and Natasha jumped up and started flipping through dresses, gesturing to Steve to come look with her. Pepper stepped over to Sally and sighed.

“She’s a prickly bitch,” Sally complained. Pepper nodded.

“This store is probably the best chance we have at finding you a dress though, Sally,” Pepper encouraged her. “Be patient. I’ll try to remind her how big her commission will be if she makes nice.” As if on cue, the saleswoman breezed back into the room, holding a pair of short gloves.

“These will go on your account, I couldn’t find any loaners,” she announced. Sally shot a look to Pepper.

“If we could start trying some dresses on,” Pepper spoke up. “Sally has a busy schedule. She’s flying out to Europe for work in just a day or two now, so we haven’t much –“

“What did I say about touching the dresses?” The saleswoman interrupted with a screech as she noticed Steve and Natasha reorganizing dresses according to what they wanted Sally to try on. Sally stepped off the platform and walked up to the saleswoman, careful to get right into her personal space, effectively cutting her off from approaching Natasha and Steve.

“Stop right there,” she growled. “I don’t know what school of salesmanship you went to, but if I treated my customers like you’ve treated me in the last fifteen minutes, I would go out of business in a month. You’ve insulted me, you’ve insulted my career, and now you’re screaming, full on, actual screaming, at my friends.”

“I told you not to touch –“

“You told me,” Sally spat. “Me, with my filthy blue collar mechanic’s hands. You did not tell the trained assassin or Captain fucking America to keep their hands off.”

“Captain –“

“Yes, the hot blond guy is Captain America, the gorgeous redhead is Black Widow. This really is Pepper Potts, the CEO of Stark Industries. It’s not just a theme wedding; I’m actually marrying Tony fucking Stark. Iron Man. And you just kissed a huge commission goodbye with your lack of tact and diplomacy,” Sally snapped. “I don’t have time to be treated like shit, Pepper. I’ll walk back to the Tower. I’ve got a little rage to get out of my system.” She stormed out of the room, and through the front of the store to the street, Natasha dashing to follow.

“You know you’ve gotta take one of us.” She grabbed Sally’s shoulder and stopped her before she could turn away from the store entrance.

“Fine, let’s get going,” Sally barely slowed herself, knowing full well that Natasha could keep up. They walked a few blocks in silence, Sally occasionally huffing out an angry sigh.

“Are you normally that touchy about the cleanliness of your hands?” Natasha finally asked.

“No. But we’re talking about my wedding. The one day in my entire life when I’m not going to be a mechanic. The one day I get to be a princess,” Sally complained. “And that bitch had to point out that I will never be able to suspend the reality of my filthy hands.”

“That’s why you wanted gloves?” Natasha asked. Sally nodded.

“I know I’d have to take them off for the ring part, but I still wanted to hide the dirt for photos and stuff,” Sally explained. Natasha stopped her, and put a hand on her shoulder.

“What about the classic hands photo?” She asked. Sally’s nose wrinkled in confusion.

“What –“

“The photo where the photographer takes a picture of both your hands with your wedding bands on,” Natasha described. “How were you going to do that photo?”

“I hadn’t thought about it,” Sally admitted. Natasha gave a small smile and tilted her head.

“Do you think Tony cares?”

“About my hands?”

“Yeah,” she nodded.

“Well,” Sally thought. “No.”

“Do you think, for a minute, that Tony would want you to be anyone other than who you are on the day he marries you?”

“No,” Sally’s voice was almost a whisper.

“So why would you hide your hands, when I happen to know that he loves your hands?” Natasha asked.

“He does not,” Sally protested.

“He does. He said that he loves that your hands show how hard you work, and how brilliant you are. He said they show how uninterested you were in catching him, and that was one of the reasons he knew to trust his gut about you right away,” Natasha explained. Sally’s eyes filled with tears.

“He did not,” she whispered. Natasha nodded.

“He did,” she confirmed. “Come on. Let’s go get a knish, and then we can figure out where else we were supposed to go today, and catch up with Steve and Pepper.”

Natasha hailed a cab and gave the cabbie an address. They wound up at a small storefront, where Natasha took charge of ordering. She led them across the street to a small park and sat on a bench, handing Sally her food. Sally opened the bag and raised an eyebrow.

“What the hell is that?” She asked.

“It’s a knish.” The look Natasha gave her implied that she might thing Sally was a little on the slow side. When Sally returned the look with an arched eyebrow, Natasha sighed. “It’s a deep fried potato dumpling. Just try it. I got you cheese. You’ll like it.”

Sally was skeptical, but bit in. The potato was smooth and cheesy, and Natasha wasn’t wrong, it was good. She liked it. Having food in her stomach, particularly something heavy and filling, made her feel a little better about everything. She said as much to Natasha.

“Stressed and hangry. It’s the worst place to be,” Natasha smiled. “Pepper and Steve are going to meet us in fifteen at the next store. It’s just a couple blocks.”

Pepper and Steve were waiting inside when they got there, and the saleswoman greeted them with a friendly smile.

“I took the liberty of asking Ms. Potts what you were looking for, and I’ve narrowed it down to six dresses that fit your requirements. We don’t have as much selection as some of the other stores,” she apologized.

“I don’t need a million dresses,” Sally laughed, feeling more at ease. “I just need one.”

“Well, Ms. Manners, I hope we have it,” she smiled.

“You can call me Sally,” Sally offered. The saleswoman grasped her hand and shook it.

“Michelle,” she countered.

Sally already knew it was going to be a better experience. Michelle escorted her to the change room area where all six dresses were hung so she could easily see them. She glanced at Steve for his opinion.

“This one is going to make you look shorter than you are,” he offered. “The skirt is just a little too full, and I think there’s a risk you’ll look like a mushroom.” Sally nodded. “And this one is going to emphasize your hips in a way that I think you will be unhappy with.”

“You’re saying it’ll make my already large ass look bigger?” Sally asked with a laugh.

“Tony loves your curves. Clint loves your curves. I’d hazard if you did a straw poll, there wouldn’t be a single person on the team who didn’t think your curves were gorgeous, but I’ve overheard you complain about the proportion of your hips to your shoulders a couple of times now, and I think this dress would emphasize something you’re already self-conscious about,” Steve explained. Sally wondered if he’d chosen the words as carefully as he’d seemed to, or if he really was that tactful. He probably really was that tactful, she realized.

“Check. This dress will make my ass look bigger,” Sally nodded. “But Cap says I have a nice ass.” She winked at Natasha and grinned as Steve flushed.

“And this one is just all wrong,” Natasha offered, pointing to a third dress. Sally nodded. It wasn’t as articulate an argument as Steve had made, but she agreed with Natasha’s assessment. “Too much sequins. Too much crystals. Too much sparkle and glitter. There’s going to be a million flashes going off at various points throughout the day, and you’ll be one giant white blob with no shape from all the reflection.”

“Pepper, what do you think?” Sally asked. Pepper tilted her head and nodded.

“I think Steve and Nat are spot on. Try the other three,” she replied. Sally followed Michelle into the change room with the remaining three dresses and looked self-consciously at her hands before looking at the dresses.

“My hands are –“

“Have you washed them since the last time you were working on a car?” Michelle interrupted.

“Of course!” Sally exclaimed.

“Then they’re clean,” Michelle shrugged. Sally furrowed her brow in confusion and Michelle shrugged a second time. “My husband doesn’t leech grease stains onto everything he touches, provided his hands are clean. I’m sure if you’ve washed your hands, you won’t wreck anything, Sally. Let’s try this one first. The sweetheart neckline will enhance your bust.” She prepared the dress as Sally pulled her clothes off. Michelle helped drop the dress over her head and directed her to hold it in place while she laced it closed. When it felt tight enough, Sally dropped her arms and looked. She shook her head.

“I don’t like it,” she admitted. “But maybe Steve can talk me through it. The fit is nice.” She opened the change room door and stepped out into the viewing area. Natasha immediately shook her head, and Pepper looked up from her phone and shook her head as well. Sally looked pointedly at Steve who made the reaction unanimous. He didn’t like it either.

“Too eighties,” Natasha offered.

“Too lacy,” Pepper agreed.

“You look like a cream puff,” Steve shrugged. Sally laughed and headed back into the change room.

“I never would have thought Captain America would be a fashion guy,” Michelle commented.

“I don’t think he really is. But he’s an artist,” Sally explained. Michelle nodded.

“I didn’t know that either. Secret depths, I guess,” she laughed as she unlaced Sally. “I wonder what secrets the other heroes of New York are hiding?”

“I don’t know that Tony has a single secret,” Sally laughed. “Too much media.”

Michelle helped her into the second dress, and Sally liked it even less than the first. She stepped out of the change room with an unhappy scowl, and again, all three people shook their heads in agreement.

“So other than this one being even more cream puffier than the last one, what have we got wrong?” Sally asked Steve. Steve pursed his lips.

“Do you have anything with a more classic cut, Michelle?” He asked, narrowing his eyes. “Something with a higher neckline, maybe?”

“That style isn’t in this season, unfortunately,” Michelle nodded. “But you’re right. I think that’s what would be best. Let’s try on the last one, Sally. Captain, the sample closet is just behind you, if you wanted to flip through the eights and tens. Pull anything you think might meet your idea.”

“Sure.” Steve nodded, and rose. Natasha arched an eyebrow and followed him. Sally followed Michelle back into the change room and tried the last dress on. It was much better than the first two, but she still wasn’t sold on it, and her suspicions were confirmed when she saw Pepper wrinkle her nose up. Steve was doodling on a piece of paper and looked up long enough to shake his head before going back to whatever it was he was drawing.

“That’s better, but it really isn’t doing much for me,” Natasha offered. Steve walked over with his doodle.

“This is what I’m thinking.” He held out a drawing. The dress he’d sketched had a boat neck that dropped into princess seams through the bust, with capped sleeves. It had a full tea-length skirt. Sally tipped her head to one side and narrowed her eyes.

“That’s pretty. Very simple,” Sally agreed. Michelle nodded.

“I’m so sorry. You’re right, Captain, that dress would be perfect for her,” she agreed. “But I’ve got nothing at all like it.”

Pepper took the sketch and eyed it critically. “Your mother’s dress is quite similar to this.”

“No, Mama’s dress has an eyelet lace overlay.” Sally shook her head.

“The lines of the dress are similar though,” Pepper pointed out. “Michelle, if the dress is similar to what we’re looking for, how hard would it be to have a new dress made based on it?”

“I’d have to consult with my seamstress, but we’ve done it before. Sally, would you like to get changed and we can continue this conversation when you’re back in your own clothes?” Michelle offered. Sally laughed.

“Yes please.” She followed Michelle back into the change room and waited as the dress was unzipped. She pulled her clothing on quickly and headed back out to the front of the store, where they waited for Michelle. She arrived and shook her head.

“I called my seamstress, and there’s no way she could do it on such a tight timeline,” she sighed. “I’d really hoped we’d be able to help you, Sally.”

“You do bridesmaid dresses as well, right?” Pepper asked.

“Of course,” Michelle nodded.

“We’ll bring you that business, once Sally had decided who will be standing with her,” Pepper assured her. “We should pick up your mother’s dress on the way back to the Tower, Sally. It’ll give us a starting point.”

Sally pulled the plastic off the dress and gasped.

“I’ve never seen this dress look anything other than yellow from age,” she murmured. “God, it’s even prettier than I remember. I mean, the lace is horrible, but the style is so pretty.”

“Try it on?” Pepper urged. Sally took the dress to the bathroom and pulled it on quickly, struggling with the zipper until she caught the tassel on the zip and was able to pull it closed herself. The fit was nearly perfect. She stepped back into the lounge and caught Steve’s instant approval.

“Too bad about that lace,” Natasha commented from where she was sprawled across Clint’s lap. “It’s perfect.” Clint shoved her off his lap and walked over to Sally, his eyes narrowed. He slid his hand between the layers of the dress, under the lace, but above the lining. Sally forced herself to stay in one spot, despite the urge to swat his hand out from under the lace.

“You know, that lace could come off and the dress would be fine,” he offered.

“Are you insane? Dress linings are cheap nylon, dumbass,” Natasha laughed.

“Sure, now they are. But until the seventies or eighties, most linings were still silk. Even now, a quality dress will have a silk lining. Why do you think some wedding dresses go for twenty grand?” Clint rolled his eyes.

“How do you know all this?” Sally asked, more than a little surprised.

“There’s an old lady in my building who used to work for one of the big fashion houses in the sixties. She takes in sewing still, and always complains about the declining quality of clothing. She made her granddaughter’s wedding dress last spring,” Clint explained.

“Do you think she could look at this dress and tell us if the lining really is silk?” Sally asked.

“Take it off,” Clint ordered. “We’ll go see her right now.”

“Seriously?” Sally asked. Clint nodded, and shoved her back toward the bathroom. Sally changed and brought the dress out on her arm. She followed Clint to the elevator without a word, climbing into the passenger seat of the Challenger when he held the door open for her. “You’re sure about this?” She finally asked.

“Trust me,” he smiled. “Mavis knows her shit. The dress she made last year,” Clint paused. “Well, it was unbelievable.” He drove through midtown and across the Brooklyn Bridge into his neighbourhood. Sally shifted in her seat as she recognized his building, and she passed the dress to Clint as she stepped out of the car, taking it back as soon as she was standing.

“I’ll owe you big time, Clint, if this works out,” she acknowledged.

“You’ll owe me, then.” Clint was confident. He led her up two flights of stairs and knocked on the last door at the end of the hall. A hunched-over, tiny woman answered the door scowling and her entire demeanor changed when she saw Clint. She clasped her hands to her chest and beamed at him.

“Clinton! Sweetness, what brings you here to me today? And with such a pretty girl!” She reached out and pulled Clint’s face down to hers, soundly kissing him on each cheek.

“This is Sally –“

“Clint never brings girls here,” Mavis interrupted, smiling at Sally. Sally bit back a giggle.

“It’s not like that, Mavis. This is Stark’s girl,” Clint held up a hand, shaking his head. Mavis looked from Sally to Clint and back again.

“This is not a woman who belongs to any man, Clinton Francis Barton,” Mavis straightened up and gave him a dirty look. Clint pursed his lips and sighed.

“You know what I meant, Mavis,” Clint complained. “Sally has a vintage wedding dress, and we were wondering if the lining was silk. On account of the eyelet lace being tacky.”

“Eyelet lace isn’t tacky, Clint. It’s out of fashion,” Mavis corrected. “Come on in, Sally. I’m Mavis, since Clint can’t seem to find his manners today. Let’s see your dress.” Sally followed the tiny woman into the back of the apartment, to a brightly lit sewing studio. Everything was neatly placed and organized, without so much as a stray thread on the floor. A large frame on one wall caught her eye, and she walked toward it. It was filled with photos of gorgeous wedding dresses on equally beautiful brides. Some of the photos were yellowing with age, but there were just as many with the telltale date stamp of the digital era on the bottom corner. Clint hadn’t been kidding. Mavis was talented.

“Did you make all these?” Sally asked. There wasn’t a single ugly dress in the bunch.

“Oh, those are just the dresses I made here. I worked on countless others,” Mavis confirmed. “Now let’s see your dress, Sally-girl.” Sally handed the dress over, and Mavis floated it over a dress form on the other side of the room. She flicked and flipped the dress around, tweaking here and there and clucking her tongue as she thought to herself.

“This is an exceptional dress, Sally,” she started. “I think the lace might have been an afterthought though. The lining is completely finished, and the lace is just tacked on.”

“Are you saying my mother chose to cover the dress in that lace?” Sally’s surprise amused Mavis, who laughed.

“It was very fashionable in the mid-sixties,” Mavis explained. “And the dress underneath would have been at the tail end of fashionable, so the lace would have updated it quite a bit. The cut of the dress is more late fifties to early sixties. Where did your mother get married?”

“Idaho,” Sally provided.

“Say no more. This dress had probably outstayed its welcome at the dress shop. Let’s take the lace off and see how it looks.” Mavis took a tiny pair of snips from the table by the dress form, and snipped a few spots on the dress. To Sally, it seemed random, but after about 5 snips, Mavis was able to lift the lace from the dress, revealing the dress underneath it. Sally sucked in her breath. It was nearly exactly the same as the sketch Steve had drawn.

“It’s perfect.” Clint blurted the words before Sally was able to articulate them herself. She nodded dumbly.

“I’d like to see it on you, Sally, and see where I’ll need to tailor it. There’s a bathroom on the left.” Mavis pointed out the door as she lifted the dress off the form. Sally nodded, still speechless, and headed into the bathroom to pulled the dress on. She came out unzipped, and turned her back to Clint for him to zip her.

“It fits really well,” Sally said. Mavis nodded, eyeing the dress and Sally critically.

“It needs to come out a little in the bust, and come in a touch in the waist. And it’s very plain. I’d like to see a touch of colour at the waist. Maybe a wide blue ribbon?” Mavis was thinking out loud, and turned to the shelves behind her. She pulled a box from the shelf and dug through it until she found what she was looking for, and unwrapped a long swatch of narrow blue silk and wrapped it at Sally’s waist, nodding. She turned Sally toward the full-length mirror and stepped behind her, holding the band of fabric in place. Tears sprang to Sally’s eyes.

“Yes,” she breathed.

“You’re the easiest to satisfy bride I’ve ever worked with!” Mavis laughed. “Bringing me an old dress and tearing up at a piece of old blue silk. Tony Stark should thank his lucky stars he didn’t get a difficult bride. Do you have a sister for my Clint?”

“I’m afraid I’m an only child,” Sally laughed, dashing the tears away. Mavis clucked her tongue again as she rolled the blue silk back up.

“That’s a shame. Clint needs easy-going just as much as Tony Stark does,” Mavis murmured. “Now, the big question is how soon do I need to finish this dress, Sally-girl?”

“I’m leaving the country in a couple of days, and will be back mid-December. The wedding will be soon after that,” Sally explained. “As long as it’s ready by the time I get back from Europe, I’ll be happy.”

“Goodness, child, I can have it ready before you leave. Be back the day after tomorrow so I can check the fit, and you should be able to take it with you when you leave,” Mavis laughed.

“I don’t want to rush you, Mavis,” Sally gaped.

“Nonsense, there’s not more than a few hours work there,” Mavis scoffed.

“If you let me know how much I owe you before I come back, I’ll pay you when I pick it up?” Sally asked.

“It just so happens that I owe Clint a small favour. This one will be on me, Sally,” Mavis held up her hand, waving off the offer.

“I can’t –“

“Yes you can. Because I’m not giving you a choice,” Mavis interrupted. “Now, go get changed, and leave your dress with me.” Sally bit her lip, but did as she was told. Despite the sewing studio being neat as a pin, it hadn’t escaped her notice that the furniture in the apartment was worn and old. Sally met Clint’s gaze as she walked toward the bathroom and he shook his head in warning. She was going to figure out how to pay Mavis, regardless of what the old woman said, but Clint would have a better idea of how to make the proud woman accept her payment.

The suitcase she’d brought with her to New York was ridiculously small for a planned six months abroad, and she’d made Clint stop on the way back to the Tower to pick up a larger one.

“Do you really think everything is going to fit in that and your other suitcase?” Clint asked as she lifted it into the back of the Challenger.

“I’m not taking the other one, just this one. When Tony took me shopping, I got mostly stuff that works together. Add my coveralls in, and I am probably covered. I’m reasonably sure I’ll be able to do laundry,” Sally laughed. Clint shook his head.

“You’re sure you don’t have a sister somewhere?” He laughed. “Because you’re fucking perfect.”

Sally snorted in contempt. “Hardly. My pants go on one leg at a time, Clint.”

“Can I watch?” He winked. Sally swatted at him. He held his hand up to stop her as he negotiated through traffic.

“It’s no wonder Natasha is always swearing at you in Russian. You’re an absolute dog,” she laughed.

“Confession?” He offered. Sally raised an eyebrow, waiting. “I’m not actually that smooth with women I’m interested in.” Sally started laughing again.

“That wasn’t smooth either, Clint!” She cackled. “Dude, seriously, stop worrying about smooth, and stick with every cheesy line you’ve used on me so far. Eventually, you’ll find a woman who finds it endearing.”

“Really?” Clint pulled into the garage and parked in his spot, and then turned to face Sally. She screwed up her face in thought.

“Honestly? I think so,” Sally admitted. “Some guys use cheesy pick-up lines because they desperately want them to work. You seem to use them because you find them amusing and a good way to open a conversation. I’d be way more likely to be a sucker for your presentation.”

“I might need you to wingman me sometime when you get back,” Clint laughed. “Have you guys decided where you’re going to live yet?”

“Tony said early on that he can work from either coast, but we’ll see. I just want to get through Latveria, and then Christmas. Then we’ll figure it out.” She pulled the suitcase from the back of the car and grabbed her purse. “See you later?”

“You leave in three days?” Clint clarified.

“Sounds that way,” Sally nodded. “I just need to confirm the driver from Budapest with Hans one more time, and I’ll be comfortable climbing on that plane.”

“Then yeah, I’ll make sure to see you before you go,” Clint agreed. “I guess I’ll be taking you back to Mavis, actually.”

“Thanks for all the help with the dress today, Clint.” Sally hugged him impulsively. “I promise I won’t tell anyone how fashion savvy the men of the Avengers are.”

Clint laughed and held her in the embrace, giving her a warm squeeze. “No one would believe you, even if you did a tell-all.”

“I have to get started packing,” Sally laughed, and headed toward the elevator.

“Have fun with that,” Clint shot. “I’m going for a drive, gonna open up the engine.”

Sally heard the engine roar to life as the elevator doors closed.

#avengers fanfic #tony stark x OFC

[quatschmachen]

Elevator

Ed and Et

XXXXX

Avoiding was the best course.

It was a cities meeting and there was no way that Ed could attend without seeing Étienne. So the best tactic was to avoid. It had been over a year since they had last spoken and while some wounds were healing over, Ed was not expecting the sudden lurch in his stomach when he saw Étienne.

It had been two days and he had managed to successfully avoid the man outside of meetings during the Annual Cities Meet, one more day to go. It had been absolutely exhausting to quickly take different corridors, linger in different rooms talking to people he wasn’t exactly fond of, or even once attempting to hide behind a potted plant when a run in with Étienne had taken him unawares.

Entering the elevator, he sighed happily as it was empty, and he calmly adjusted his jacket around him. He had heard some rumours in between meetings that the wind was getting pretty wicked outside. The doors began to close before a hand suddenly jammed the doors, forcing them open again and Étienne, rather out of breath, appeared. Their eyes locked for a moment, the silence heavy between them. Étienne moved as if he was not going to get onto the elevator before a large crowd of people appeared, propelling Étienne forward into the elevator. The space suddenly closed between them as more people shuffled in, apparently coming in from a different meeting, forcing bodies to squish together and causing Étienne to uncomfortably press up against Ed. Not a word was exchanged as Étienne resolutely looked forward clutching his satchel to his chest. Reaching the ground floor, Étienne impatiently tried to push through some of the people, knowing that Ed was following behind, tripping slightly as he exited the elevator, his arms loosened causing his satchel to fall onto the floor. The latch, not firmly pressed, popped open, causing his files to fly around the foyer.

“Merde,” he muttered as he bent to quickly pick up the various papers.

“I’ll help,” Ed’s voice was soft, almost inaudible as together they quickly and awkwardly worked together to pick up the papers, their eyes not meeting in a strange dance of avoidance.

Moving forward to grasp the last paper, Étienne’s hand fell upon Ed’s who had also went to grasp the last paper. Both of them froze, unsure of what to do, the moment in time seeming to slow down into a moment too long, until slowly Étienne withdrew his touch, straightening up.

Barely looking at Étienne, Ed handed him the rest of the papers, his warm fingers lightly brushing up against Étienne’s, a touch so familiar and strange at the same time.

It was now or never, Étienne thought as their eyes met. Heart thumping in his throat, he managed to croak out in the most uncool fashion, “Hey… did you want to catch up… over coffee?”

Wide eyes stared at him, as if Ed had no idea what language was being spoken to him. They were still both awkwardly in the crouched position from picking up the files and Étienne could feel his leg starting to cramp.

The silence hanging between them and suddenly feeling embarrassed for even opening his mouth, Étienne began to say “Well I mean you don’t ha-”

“Alright.” Ed cut across him.

“A-alright?!” came the startled croak.

“I mean… coffee isn’t so bad,” came the offhand comment as Ed finally straightened up, consciously rubbing his hands on his pants as if unconsciously trying to rub away Étienne’s touch.

Clutching the firmly closed satchel to his chest Étienne also stood up, shocked that Ed had actually agreed. Attempting to keep his cool and hating his heart for pounding like some idiotic drum – he was! OVER IT! They were Just friends! He had managed to leave the house and have many adventures in the past six months, many sexual adventures with many different people. He enjoyed every single one. Ed dropping him was probably the best thing that happened to him!

He smiled. The smile probably was not the best of smiles, it was one of those awkward forced ones that showed a little too much teeth, and probably was reminiscent of him swallowing a fly.

Exiting the building the wind hit their faces like a freight train, the snow swirling around them and Ed pulled his jacket higher. Their walking pace was awkward, until after about a block or so, Ed managed to ask, “So we passed like five Starbucks. Where exactly is this coffee happening?”

Blanching, for Étienne had no idea where they were going, he quickly looked around trying to figure out the best place nearby that was not a Starbucks. He could not just drag Ed into one after passing five, right?

“We are going to a nice mom and pop place,” he responded, quickly deciding to go Left. Left felt Good to him.

“You sure?”

“Yup!” Ignoring the doubtful tone in Ed’s voice, Étienne strode forward acting as if he totally knew the city of Halifax like the back of his hand.

Trying not to act as if he was desperately looking around for a place, he adjusted his satchel, and attempted to start up a conversation. “Soo… how do you like the meeting so far?”

“Mind numbingly boring. If I have to hear one more interruption from your fricking mayor about why a pipeline is the sign of the devil, I am going to personally crawl across the meeting table horror movie style and strangle him with my own bare hands.”

Giving a disapproving cluck, Étienne turned his head, not looking where he was going, and began to say “You wouldn’t dare-” and managed to fall off the sidewalk onto the road, neatly twisting his ankle on a sewer grate. He did an awkward wobble, clutching the file to his chest attempting not to fall, which nearly sent him into traffic, where no doubt he would have been squished by a bus whizzing by if Ed had not quickly pulled him back onto the sidewalk.

The force of the pull was perhaps too great as Ed slid on some hidden ice, causing them both to fall violently onto the sidewalk with a not nice sounding thud, Étienne’s head awkwardly butting against Ed’s chin.

Swearing, Étienne attempted to recover, twisting and rubbing his head looking at Ed with concern. “Sorry, are you ok?” Without much thought, he reached out to rub Ed’s chin to make sure the injury wasn’t so bad, his freezing cold fingers almost getting electric at the touch as he quickly withdrew.

“I’m fine… just sore. Seems like even if you may not be so smart, you are still hard headed, like some bull.”

“Hey!”

“Anyways, I would really like to get in before I freeze to death, to hell with your mom and pop place,” Ed responded as he tenderly stood up, “Look, that place looks good, let’s go there.”

“But—” Étienne vaguely protested.

“Shut up, I’m freezing and I don’t give a damn about this mom and pop place, I want you off the sidewalk before you manage to actually kill yourself; today has been long and I don’t have the time or patience to scrape you off the pavement. We are going there.”

Secretly relieved that he didn’t have to find some random place, Étienne nodded meekly. “Alright… I can’t guarantee anything though.”

Holding out his hand, Ed pulled Étienne up, “At least it will get us out of this fricking wind.”

Putting pressure on his ankle, Étienne stumbled, feeling embarrassed that he had somehow twisted it.

“Hold on to me, and we will hobble you over to this place, ok?” Without waiting Ed wrapped his arm around Étienne’s waist, pulling him close.

Relaxing into a hold he had missed for far too long, Étienne acquiesced as they hobbled towards the restaurant, the bell chiming as they entered. Due to the time of day it was not so busy and they managed to get a booth rather quickly. It was one of those well lived restaurants that served the loosely termed “Canadian fare”. What this really meant was it was one of those places that had an eclectic menu of items filched from all around the world and vaguely modified to the region.

The booth seats were an old dull red vinyl, some of them sadly patched up obviously having seen better days.  Cleanliness was to be desired, but it was not revolting. It was a homey atmosphere, with non-offensive lighting, not too bright not too dim.

Having slid into the booth, Étienne was startled when Ed squatted and rolled up his pant leg in order to inspect his ankle. Cold fingers pressed up against his skin in an intimate caress. It took a moment for him to realize exactly what was going on, to comprehend the situation.  Why was Ed acting so concerned over him? So caring? After all he had literally dumped him like a pile of rubbish and suddenly he was squatting touching his ankle like it was some prize gem? Unexpected anger washed over him as he violently jerked his ankle away from Ed.

“What are you doing? I’m making sure you haven’t fucked it up too badly–”

“I’m fine, ok?”  Étienne hadn’t meant to sound so snappish but quite honestly he was ready to chop this leg off due to the amount of injuries it had managed to incur during the past six months.

Looking as if he just got slapped in the face, Ed withdrew, “Fine,” and opened up the menu, staring at it in a stony silence.

Shit, this was not how this was supposed to go, Étienne thought and when the waitress appeared he panicked and actually ordered a large food dish attempting to look as if they meant to be here all along.

Ed ordered an appetizer and a coffee.

Waiting for their food, Étienne found it hard to look at Ed, not sure how to bring up a topic of conversation, racking his mind for something Safe to talk about.

“Did I ever tell you about my worst day ever?” he finally managed to say smoothly, knowing full well he hadn’t but trying to frame it as if they were still on speaking terms so that he possibly could have.

“You have a new one?”

“Uhh huhh… this one really takes the mouldy gateau too.”

“Alright, you have me intrigued… I’ll bite. What happened?”

“Well this was after the stupid minor cities camp,” Étienne began, “And because I had won the prize to Banff my flight got changed, and of course Emma was the one who did it.”

“Oh you won too? Usually it’s only one team that wins the prize,” Ed commented offhandedly.

Taken off guard for a moment, Étienne cautiously replied, “Too?”

“Well Calvin won it so he was late a day… I was waiting for him to get back.”

“Ed… Calvin and I were on the same team. Didn’t he mention it to you?”

“What?” Surprise and then a sudden schooling of features, “Well hmm, guess it must have slipped my mind. Continue with your bad day.”

“Ok so I am stuck in this long ass layover, because of course no direct flight to my city so I get the milk run to Toronto and I’m eating the worst sandwich of my life…”

He continued on, the atmosphere between them relaxing once more, only getting interrupted when he mentioned the elevator was broken.

“Your place does not have an elevator?”

“Oh! I forgot to mention my place was under renovations, so I was temporarily inhabiting a different apartment,” he responded.

“Ohhh, ok that makes sense. So wheel of luggage broken? And then what?”

The food arrived halfway through the story, disrupting the cozy atmosphere temporarily, as Étienne spent so much time he nearly forgot about the food, subconsciously pushing it more towards Ed as he elaborated on the broom closet, making a large gesture to get the point across.

Ed had begun picking at Étienne’s food, nearly choking on the pasta in laughter as he was told about Elyse shouting at him. In telling the story somehow the worst day ever was transforming into the funniest day ever, and Étienne had to work hard to keep a straight face as he talked about being absolutely humiliated in front of His Royal Asshole and wanting to die.

“Ohhh nooo, how embarrassing!” came the correct response, after another forkful of pasta.

“Ugh it was the WORST. And to make things even worse as a punishment she made me go to the pothole meetings for her… so there I was with two black eyes attempting to be all professional—”

“Wait, when did you get black eyes? Did you actually get those from Lucas?”

“Oh no, of course not, it was when me and Calvin had a fight during camp,” came the laugh, Étienne seeming to wave away this tidbit as if it was insignificant, “We got on each other’s nerves and emotions were expressed, you know how it is with Calvin… but anyways…” Étienne wrapped up his story, glad at how enthralled his audience was throughout. However Ed was not so enthralled, his brow was drawn down as if in thought.

“Extinct penny for your thoughts?”

“Huh?”

“I have finished my story and you are busy chewing on a chicken wing with no major response for le grande finale…”

“Oh sorry, the chicken is real good, want one?”

“Sure,” suspicious that Ed was lying but not wanting to call him out on it, Étienne took one of the chicken wings to try. “Mmm! It is good!”

“You say that as if you doubted me,” came the wry response.

“Of course not, I know you have good taste… when it comes to food.”

Eyebrows raised Ed said, “What are you implying!?”

“Oh… nothing, of course,” came the cheeky reply as Étienne flashed him a wicked smile, one that usually had a very physical effect upon Edward.

“Sure…” hearing his phone buzz, Ed wiped his hands on the napkin before pulling it out; glad for the timely distraction, he read the message and blanched, “Shit…”

“Shit?”

“Ugh I have to go, this turned longer than I meant it to,” he hurriedly put his phone away after sending a quick text and then put his jacket on, “Sorry about this it was good catching up, here,” he slammed a twenty-dollar bill onto the table, “This should cover, right?”

“That’s far too much,” Étienne protested, “We could walk back together?”

“No I have to go now,” something about his manner was off-putting.  It was almost as if he was trying to run away from some illicit affair.

“Ed, wait.”

He was already turning away.

Panic entering him, Étienne lunged out and grabbed him by the wrist, “Ed! Wait!”

“Étienne, I have to go–”

“Wait a moment, I,” Talking to Ed had reminded him what a good friend he was and how much he missed him, as a friend. Feeling nervous even asking this as if he had no right to even say these words he said, “Are you still good for my birthday party? Like I mean after… everything… Are– are you coming?”

“I uh…haurh?” Ed’s voice seemed to go an octave higher as his face got red.

“…I would really like it if you came. It’s going to be very chill with some other people,” came the hopeful response. “But obviously no pressure, I mean… I don’t want to intrude on the honeymoon period.”

“Haa honeymoon period? What are you even talking about? But… other people will be there? That… sounds alright… uhm well…”

The eye avoidance failed miserably as Ed finally looked him directly in the eye, seeming to pause and stutter, the words seeming to be fighting amongst themselves over what he would respond until, “Okey well, expect me there! Just uh email me the instructions…”

Letting him go Étienne smiled warmly, “Great! See you.”

Giving a curt nod, Ed fled.

XXXXX

Entering the hotel room Ed looked at Calvin, feeling guilty. Somehow even having a meal with Étienne made him feel as if he had just had a full-on affair. Plus, he had stupidly agreed to go to the birthday party, shit, how could he back out now?

Taking his jacket off, he wondered how he would approach this topic to Calvin.

Calvin who he was a half hour late for; apparently seeing Étienne had caused his plans to fly right out of his head.

Thankfully Calvin was on the bed looking sleepy and tousled, “Hey, you finally came.”

“Yeah sorry, I got sidetracked.”

“Oh, me too… While waiting I ended up falling asleep. I’m just so sleepy with this time change.”

“Mmm…” sitting on the bed beside Calvin, Ed leant over and gave him a kiss on the forehead. “I must admit the sidetrack was me being bad…”

“Oh?”

Swallowing but knowing it was better to be upfront Ed said, “I grabbed a bite to eat with Étienne and we caught up…”

“Oh?? Tell me more.” Calvin shifted so that Ed could fully climb onto the bed and snuggle up to him.

“Mmm, well we literally bumped into each other and I guess… well I was curious. It was nice, he told me about some news, we caught up, but there was nothing more than that… mmm, I guess he was also a friend and I wonder if I may have been too extreme just cutting him out like that, you know?”

“I suppose… but sometimes you also need time and space to heal certain wounds, when you are ready though I suppose you could pick up the friendship again.”

“Yeah? Aren’t you worried?”

“Naw, I mean… what really could happen?”

“Mmm.” Laying there feeling comfortable, Ed wondered if he should confront Calvin about the fact he had left rather key points out concerning the camp experience… Opening his mouth to speak, the words seemed to clog up inside of him and he covered it up with a cough.

Perhaps it was better not to. Étienne didn’t seem to think it was a big idea and he was probably overreacting at the thought of the two men whom he loved… no wait, fuck. His boyfriend and ex interacting. Yeah it was just an awkward situation, probably best to be avoided.

“I fucked up too…”

“Mm?”

“I ended up confirming to his face that I am going to his party,” Ed sighed out, “I meant to say no but he was looking at me like some sort of kicked puppy… I can back out if you want.”

“Eh, it’s just a party,” Calvin responded pragmatically, “I mean I need to start trusting you more at some point, right? Really what could go wrong?”

“Well a lot of things.”

“Like?”

“Well what if somehow… oh… I screw up?”

“Well what happens at the party stays at the party? Does that sound good?”

“Are you giving me a pass?”

“I suppose… so long as you come home to me at the end, I don’t see what harm could really happen.”

There was silence for a moment, before Ed gave Calvin a soft kiss on the cheek, “I love you, Calvin McCall.”

“I love you too, Edward Murphy… now then… are we going to order room service because I am hungry but don’t want to leave this room.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

#quatschfic #pc: edmonton #pc: montreal #pc: calgary #the build up begins #projectcanada cities