#listen! pat playing on a small local team is a nice idea to me

[spacerangersam]

rugby player pat

#send tweet #listen! pat playing on a small local team is a nice idea to me #i know nothing about rugby but i think hed have fun and look nice inna rugby Jersey #cap would be consumed by lust asdfgh #Patrick Butcher

[candycorncarl]

Right Here, Right Now

Heyyyy guysss :) Not only is this my first post to this blog this is the first time I’ve written in a long time. I was listening to Kiss U Right Now by DUCKWRTH and a small idea I got from the song turned into this! I recommend playing the song when you get to that part of the story ;))) 

Description: You've always been able to feel his eyes on you, his presence when you're in the same room is unmistakable. Yet he never gets too close to touch. Until right here, right now. Warnings: angst, case discussions, alcohol Word Count: 4.6k

Part 1

You could not wait for today to be over. It's been filled with paperwork that always seems to be never ending, which turns into never ending coffee, which turns into you fidgeting for most of the day. Unwinding at Garcia's place tonight was all you could look forward to. Starting to zone out you stare blankly at your computer while twirling your pen in between your fingers. You are finally pulled away from the screen by Emily approaching your desk. She sits on the edge of your desk and you watch her roll her eyes.

"So how many bottles of wine do I bring to girls night tonight?" She sounded just as fed up with today as you were.

You chuckle and hold up all ten fingers raising your eyebrows as you both begin laughing. As you turn to face Emily you notice Spencer looking at you. It was subtle with his head down and eyes up not wanting anyone to notice, especially you. He quickly glances away, eyes darting back to his work while biting his cheek. The two of you seemed to share these small unspoken conversations more than you actually talked. You try to focus back on Emily telling you about her bad nights sleep. Luckily JJ serves as your distraction from Spencer as she walks up to your desk.

"Garcia wants to know everyones snack choices for tonight. I'm bringing a variety pack of chips. Henry's soccer team will just have to settle on fruit snacks tomorrow." JJ says as she raises her eyebrows and tilts her head. You all giggle but you can feel Spencer peeking up at you again. You've always been able to feel when his eyes are on you.

"Well you can tell Garcia mine will be that amazing ice cream she can only seem to find." You smirk.

"You know I can't pass up the chance to indulge in some oreos." Emily says as she sticks her tongue out from the corner of her mouth.

"Ohh you kill me every time with the oreos. My guilty pleasure!" JJ groans before heading off to relay the snack list to Garcia.

Emily pats her hand against your desk a couple times before heading back to her own. Suddenly you hear Hotch announce "We've got a case" from above. He marches over to the conference room. Emily looks at you while groaning, and you drop your head in defeat.

"Well that was fun while it lasted." You mumble as you all begin making your way across the bullpen.

As you all file into the room you see Spencer right behind you. Taking a second you notice how nice he smells you say a quick prayer in hopes he sits next to you. Suddenly Rossi plops down in the seat instead replacing Spencers cologne with the smell of cigars. You glance up at Spencer for a split second and he returns the quick exchange taking the seat across the table. Suddenly he feels so far away.

"How is that every time I get a fresh set of cigars we get a case?" Rossi sighs. Normally you would joke with him but you can't help but be a little annoyed.

"Maybe it's a sign to stop." You say dryly the annoyance more apparent in your voice than you meant it to be. He frowns at you along with a few others, obviously surprised by the reply from you. Feeling guilty you go to say sorry before Spencer cuts you off.

"Studies show cigar smoking causes 9,000 premature deaths annually." He says turning to stare at the screen.

"Well I think with this job I'm willing to risk the odds." Rossi says as he leans back in his chair. The team is quiet for a second. Still feeling a little embarrassed you glare at Spencer before Garcia walks in. As the files are being passed around the table she starts explaining the case.

"3 bodies have been found around the Myakka River in Florida and they think the cause of death was poison. All random, all within the past 4 months. If the unsub sticks to his timeline we have a week to find him before he strikes again."

"Why are we just now hearing about this?" Derek asks.

"2 of the victims were found by alligators in the area. So running tests on them took longer than normal." Penelope replies sadly.

"He's betting on the alligators finding them, not people. The alligators clearly didn't want much to do with them though." Emily looks over they pictures in her file.

"So whatever they're being poisoned with is strong enough to stop hungry alligators?" JJ says doubtfully.

"It's more likely that the alligators were able to detect they were sick in some way before fully... continuing further." Spencer says as the team groans in sympathy.

You wait for Hotch to give the go. "Alright, wheels up in 30."

                                       ________________________

Stepping onto the jet you notice the back of Spencer's head in his seat. You make you way over and sit in the seat next to him.

"Um so why did you defend me earlier? I was kind of a bitch to Rossi back there." You peer at him still feeling slightly embarrassed from the team seeing what happened. Your thumbs twiddling in your lap. He just stares at his book and scrunches his nose. You wait for a response before letting out a sigh and standing up.

"Just making sure he knew the facts." He stays focused on the book and doesn't elaborate any further.

You move to the back of the jet waiting for the rest of the team. It's so hard to read Spencer. He doesn't talk to you as much, but you can always feel his presence when you're in the room together. Frustrated in him not wanting to talk more you rest your head on the back of the seat and twist your hair around your finger, he glances at you one more time as the team files in.

After going over the case on the jet Hotch starts pairing you off into groups. "Prentiss and Morgan head over to the M.E to see what else you can find. Rossi, JJ, and I will head to the dumpsites. Reid and Y/n set up at the station and start working on a geographical profile."

You felt your breath hitch for a moment as you glance over at Spencer to acknowledge the pairing. He keeps his eyes on Hotch. As the flight lands everyone begins pairing off into their groups. Getting to the SUV's Spencer climbs into the passenger seat and you quickly start driving. You were feeling a little nervous with Spencer now. It had been awhile since you've been teamed up even though you two tend to work well together. Despite the lack of personal conversations the two of you had, working with him was easy. The silence was finally broken when you worked up the courage to speak.

"I noticed you were writing down some notes earlier. Do you want to share?" You asked, biting the inside of your cheek.

"Why were you watching me?" He looked over at you finally.

"I- I wasn't watching you. I just happened to notice." Furrowing your brows you glance over at Spencer.

"The bodies all seem to be within a 15 mile radius of one another. There's something within that area of the lake he's attached to." He says with a frown staring out the window.

"Well we've ruined whatever plans he's made finding his dumpsites." You start to call Garcia.

"Sugar, spice, and everything nice. Hello Blossom to my Buttercup!" She says with such excitement you can hear her smile.

"Um I'm pretty sure you're Blossom, Garcia." You reply letting out a little laugh. Moving your phone to its car mount, your arm gently brushes against Spencers for a second. He quickly moves his arm to rest by his side and tugs on his seatbelt. You notice a heat rushing over his cheeks.

"Garcia you need to do a search for anything of significance that has happened in or around the lake in the past year." Spencer speaks up.

"Okay, but lets try asking a little more politely?" Garcia replies in an annoyed tone.

"Uh- please." Spencer clears his throat.

"There we go. Your wish is my command!" She says before hanging up. You can't help but let out a quiet laugh. He frowns at you before looking back out the window.

Making your way into the station you greet the local PD. They go over the latest victim and you are led to their conference room. You start putting notes together and pictures on the board. Spencer is staring intensely at the map, his finger held up to his mouth.

"Can I borrow that marker?" He sticks his arm out waiting for you to hand it to him.

"Wow for an eidetic memory you sure do forget to say please a lot." You turn your head to him as he looks at you slightly annoyed. Instead of just handing the marker to him you take a step over and look at the map. Keeping hold of the marker you begin pointing.

"So he's dumping the bodies here, here, and here?" You turn your head with the marker purposely pointing at the wrong spot. As you turn to look at him he's still staring at you. Locking eyes you notice his jaw clenching.

"No, here." He says still staring at you, leaving barely any space between your hand and his. It starts feeling hot in the room. You normally don't act like this with one another, but you feel something stirring inside you. Feeling your nerves take over, you can feel your cheeks blushing deeply. You stand there for a second longer before you finally hand him the marker.

"Thank you." His eyes look you up and down before marking the map.

Becoming flustered you turn and tuck your hair behind your ear searching the table for something to break the tension. A breath of relief washes over you as Emily and Derek enter the room. Sharing their new found information you start putting more pieces together. Eventually it's time to head to the hotel.

Grabbing your keycard from JJ you plan on taking a nice long shower to clear your mind. Stepping off the elevator onto your floor you say goodnight to JJ. You notice Spencer down the hallway, your nerves rising back up. As you approach him he slows down and stops at the door which happens to be across from yours. You can see him peek at you from the side of his eye as he unlocks his door. You begin to open your door and turn back to look at him. He stares back at you before closing his door.

Dumping your bag in your room you try relaxing your muscles and take in a deep breath. Quickly undressing you head to the bathroom bringing your toiletries with you. Turning the shower on you bite your lip thinking of the feelings between you and Spencer today. He always seems to be slightly frustrated around you, which made you feel confused. It's hard to ignore the way you feel when you catch him looking at you, but you try to calm the butterflies down convincing yourself he doesn't feel the same way. Stopping yourself you step into the shower and feel the warm water wash over you, taking your mind off of how confusing today was. Finishing your night time routine you make your way to the plush bed, scrolling through your phone before trying to fall asleep without thinking of Spencer.

                            ____________________________________ 

As Spencer closed his door he let out a loud huff and put his bags on the bench in the room. He stuck his arm out to lean on the wall. Dropping his head down the need to feel her touch is firing off of him. His pent up frustration caused his pants to grow tighter. Thoughts of her keep racing in his mind, all the times he catches her before she catches him, when she softly brushes past him in hallways, the way she plays with her hair while she's deep in thought. He starts taking deep breaths to try and stop thinking about her. Still too afraid to admit his own emotions to himself he steps into the bathroom. Feeling hot while trying to ignore his growing bulge he undoes his tie and pulls his sweater off. Rolling up his sleeves he starts splashing cold water on his face. Leaning over the sink he lets the water drip off his lips and nose. Something about the way she catches his attention scares him because he feels like he could lose control at any second. He closes his eyes and continues breathing slowly. After cooling down he dries his face and goes to change. Grabbing his book from the plane along with 2 others he makes his way to his bed, forcing himself to read.

                             ____________________________________

Waking up to your 5:15 am alarm clock you groggily turn it off. You get a text as you pick your phone up.

    Hotchner: Good morning everyone. Be up and ready in 30. We will meet down in the lobby.

You begin to scroll over the rest of your notifications until you jump out of bed and stretch your arms up. After getting your thoughts together you go through your morning routine with a slight jitter in your hands as you begin to think about Spencer. Luckily it wasn't enough to keep you from messing up your eyeliner or mascara. You slip on a pair of black jeans, your favorite black boots, and a white tee shirt. Completing the look you holster your gun, and pop your blazer on. Giving yourself one final scan in the mirror you finish with a quick spritz of perfume and head out the door. Stepping out in the hallway you notice Spencer waiting down by the elevator. Dressed in his usual sweater, button down, tie combo you take him in. He's fiddling with his bag and doesn't seem to notice you nearing.

"Good morning..." You say softly hoping not to startle him. He continues searching his bag without returning a hello. Biting your lip you can't help but ask what he's looking for.

"Did you lose something?" You keep your voice quiet not wanting to annoy him or the people still getting to enjoy sleep so early in the morning.

"No." He finally replies, giving up on his search. You nod and the elevator finally dings, its doors open. He looks a little more tired and stressed than usual so you choose to stay quiet.

"It's just a small bottle of some cologne. It was a gift from my mom, otherwise I wouldn't really care if it went missing." He presses the L button and the elevator starts moving. You were a little surprised he elaborated on his answer.

"Oh, well I'll make sure to look out for it. She has good taste, it smelled nice." Your face immediately goes red, you look down in hopes your hair will hide your blushing cheeks. You could smack yourself for letting that slip out. As the doors to the elevator open you feel Spencer's finger brush against yours so softly you hardly felt it. You shoot your head up as you watch him exit, almost forgetting to get off as well.

Spencer's finger is burning as he takes off down the lobby. Clenching his hands around his strap he tries to keep his focus on the team ahead but he can't shake the feeling away. His mind is yelling at him for his actions, but his chest is about to burst. The burning from his finger getting a touch of your skin is overwhelming him. The butterflies he's kept caged forever are starting to stir. Reaching the team he hears her footsteps approaching making his heart beat faster. Tucking his hand in his pocket he takes a gulp. Hotch starts breaking down the day but as hard as he tries to listen he can't. All he can pay attention to is the smell of her perfume; sweet and warm. It matches her personality perfectly. Staring at Hotch he sees his lips moving but doesn't hear a word he's saying until he hears his name. "Reid and Y/n head to the latest victims house." He bites the inside of his cheek as he fights his feelings in his head. Preparing himself for another day of controlling his urges, he makes his way for the door. Hopping in the car he stays silent, as does she. The air feels like its on fire and he begins to wonder if he's made the wrong move.

You can still feel his touch as you grasp the steering wheel. All it took was his pinky gliding over yours to put you in a tizzy. You peek over at him but this time you're too nervous to speak. Resting your arm on the center console, he places his arm next to yours. Leaving the smallest bit of space between the two of you again. Your hand clutches the steering wheel tighter too afraid to move. You both stay silent the entire ride over.

Walking up to the house you flash your credentials to be let in. Your mind is finally able to shift gears. Entering the house you follow him into the main room carefully taking a look around. The home was filled with plants of every shape and size.

"It's a shame most of these plants are probably going to die after being so cared for." You say in a bittersweet tone while appreciating them. Pausing for a moment you feel a thought brewing. "Wait, what if our unsub is creating his own poisons? I'm seeing some dangerous plants here, I think that could be our connection." You say walking further around the house.

Spencer scans over the bookshelf in the room and calls you over. You walk over and stand closer to him than normal. He pauses for a moment before pointing to a picture setting on top of the shelf.

"Do you know what that is?" He asks quietly, still scanning the picture.

"The plant? Umm not specifically, no." You return matching his quiet volume.

"It's nerium oleander, an extremely toxic plant that is poisonous to both livestock and humans. The toxic principles are two glycosides, oleandrin, and nerioside. Symptoms if ingested can be severe, cardiac irregularities can begin, often characterized by an increased heart rate. However, a slower heart rate is often detected in the later stages. Each dumpsite had this species of flower growing around it." He says quickly scanning over the rest of the shelf.

"I think we just found our secret ingredient." You stare at him for a second admiring just how smart he is before calling Garcia.

                            ____________________________________

Spencer's discovery of the flowers lead to the break in the case saving the life of one more victim. The unsub was an alchemist abducting customers from the greenhouse he owned. Finding him didn't take long once you knew where to look. The team gleefully boarded the jet since the case was a fast one. You all were able to leave before the day was even over.

"I think a quick case calls for some celebration!" Derek says.

After excitedly agreeing you sat with JJ and Emily. You couldn't help but notice Spencer deep in thought while reading.

"What about you pretty boy?" Derek shoves Spencer's shoulder. Spencer glares at Derek and replies to get him to back off.

"I'll think about it." He says before quickly glancing over at you before looking back at his book. You turn your attention away from him and back to the girls.

Spencer feels the cage rattling in his stomach again. He tries making it stop but he doesn't want to miss the chance of seeing her celebrate tonight. He starts replaying the first time she went out with them in his head. Her laugh filling his ears over the loud music, her smile beaming from across the room. His biggest regret was leaving early when she finally sat down to take a break from dancing. She was tipsy and breathing a little heavy from dancing. When she sat next to him she let out a soft moan of relief when taking a sip of her drink. He clutched his glass harder hearing her.

"You don't look like you're having much fun Doctor!" She rested her hand on her chin looking at him and then his glass of water. He was clenching his jaw and began to remove himself from the table.

"I'm not so that's why I'm leaving." He noticed her frown before turning to walk away. He forced himself to do the exact opposite of everything he wanted to do. His fist clenched in his pocket and he stepped outside waiting for a taxi to appear. After realizing how worked up he was becoming he told himself to stop. This time there would be no seeking advice from Derek, no getting too close, no butterflies. That was the plan he set in stone and that was the plan she was now quickly unraveling after all this time.

Pulling himself back to reality he peeked at her every now and then the rest of the way home, catching her eye from time to time.

                           ____________________________________

Having a little spare time you decided to get ready with the girls at Garcia's place before heading to the bar. You always kept a backup outfit in your car for times like these. She was the best person to get ready with, always hyping her girls up.

"Y/n that dress is capital H.O.T." She beams at you while slipping her shoes on. You wink at her and pull out your makeup bag. You had to admit the dress hugged you perfectly and made you feel confident. Popping your lipstick on you turned to the girls and shook your head.

"I think we all look capital H.O.T" You smirk before turning to leave. You could feel your nerves rising as you all gathered into the car, you tried to calm down since you weren't even sure if Spencer was coming tonight.

Spencer was unsure of what to wear for tonight. After trying a few things on he opted in on a simple light blue button down and rolled his sleeves up. He was fumbling with his hair as his phone buzzed knowing it was Derek. Before heading out he made sure to spray on a little of his no longer missing cologne. Hopping in the car Derek noticed a little shift in his demeanor.

"What's got you all nervous?" Derek asks with a smirk after driving for a bit.

"Nothing, I just haven't gone out in awhile. This isn't really my thing you know." He kept his eyes on the road.

"Well maybe if you drank with us you wouldn't feel so awkward every time." Derek let out a little chuckle.

He felt his palms getting sweaty as they pulled up to the bar. Seeing Penelope's car he knew she was already here. He wiped his palms on his knees quickly before getting out of the car. Making their way in the bar Derek yelled out "Now the real fun can begin!"

Everyone cheered in return as Spencer searched the room for her. Once he found her at the bar his eyes took her in before she could find him. He's seen her dressed up before but this time he was truly appreciating just how beautiful she is. Once her eyes met him he felt his heart thumping. Spencer tried to distract himself by taking a seat hoping no one noticed his staring.

The team talked for a bit while enjoying some drinks. They finally got up and started heading to the dance floor. You felt yourself a little confused as it seemed like Spencer was avoiding you. He was quiet and didn't seem to be engaged in any of the conversations. Instead of heading to the dance floor you made your way over to the bar asking for a water.

"You know I don't think anyone has said good job to you yet on breaking the case." You held out the water offering it to Spencer. Surprised by your presence he cleared his throat.

"What? Oh... thanks. You deserve credit too." He gave you a small nervous smirk and took the water. You sat down across from him shrugging.

"Once I saw that photo it was so obvious. I can't believe I didn't notice it sooner." He frowned.

"Spencer, you don't give yourself enough credit. You can't put that pressure on yourself to connect every dot right away. Don't be so hard on yourself, please. Maybe consider celebrating with us tonight?" You smiled and raised up one of your eyebrows.

"I think I'm good for now." He pushes his water between his fingers slightly. You sigh and get up from the table.

"Well as long as you don't leave early again..." You say and down the rest of your drink before walking over to JJ, Emily, and Penelope dancing. You can feel his eyes focused on you.

Dancing for so long you start to lose track of time, letting the warmth of the alcohol take over you. Enjoying dancing with your girls after while you decided you needed a slower song to take a break. You walked over to the DJ and requested a song you knew would grab Spencer's attention. The DJ said ok and started playing "Kiss U Right Now" by DUCKWRTH. You walked back over and smiled slightly. Penelope let out a loud "OOOO! I like this!" As she began dancing slower. You found Emily and started dancing closely with her. You both giggled a little bit as you swayed your hips against each other. Feeling your dress inching up your thigh you peek over at Spencer. You knew he was already watching you, you could feel it. As your eyes met his, he got up from the table and took off towards the bathroom.

"I need to pee!" You said in Emily's ear before heading towards Spencer. She nods and joins Penelope and JJ.

As you finally made your way through the crowd you saw Spencer stepping out of the restroom. He didn't even bother to look at you but as he passed you, you felt his pinky brush against you again. You hooked your pinky around his and he stopped dead in his tracks. You turned to look at him as he stayed frozen for a second. Your heart was pounding waiting for him to make a move.

Spencer felt his entire body tense up. The small heat in his chest turned into a wildfire. He turned and pushed you up against the wall. His hand moving to the hem of your dress, his hot hand touching your thigh. He kept his other hand intertwined with your pinky. His heart was thumping as he moved his lips close to yours. He could feel your heavy breathing as his eyes were locked on yours. You gripped his pinky a little tighter to pull the rest of his body closer.

You can feel the heat pooling in your stomach as you stare Spencer down. His gaze told you everything you needed to know. The song booming as it narrated both your thoughts. He wanted this just as much as you did. You wanted him to prove it, he was killing you as he hovered over you.

"You need to get back to the girls before they wonder where you are." He whispered before letting go of your hand while backing away from you. He passes the table pushing towards the door. You glance over at the team to see if they notice, if they do they're not acting like it. You take a breath and decide to follow him.

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

#spencer reid #spencer x you #spencer x reader #one shot #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfic #angst #spencer reid fanfiction #spencerxreader #spencer reid angst

[feistypaants-archived]

Between The Pipes [Chapter 8]

Rating: M Words: 2236 Pairing: Kristanna Summary: When a new owner takes over the Arendelle Ice Breakers, Kristoff isn’t sure about his future with the team. That is, until a PR nightmare throws the newest member of the media team, who also just so happens to be the daughter of the new owner, right into his arms. Kristoff and Anna can’t even stand the interviews they have to do together… how on earth are they going to fix this mess? Hockey!AU.

[Chapter Index]

Where To Read: [AO3]

Notes: hehe this was fun. I don’t know if this is something that actually happens or not, but in my world it does! They have to do those studio headshots and stuff somewhere right? 

Anyway, the NHL does these silly things called Puck Personalities and it’s def the inspiration for the last part of this. Here’s a playlist of them if you’re bored and want to watch hockey boys be awkward bc none of them like to be on camera. 

Enjoy!

Gerda wanted her to get some practice today. Some dumb, fluffy media that would just go on the internet when they ran out of things to report on, or if they felt that they needed something to smooth over any rough patches PR-wise. It was just going to be silly questions that were meant to play with the guys, get them comfortable with her, and to give fans something fun to watch that would bring the players down to a more relatable 

So Anna did herself up as nicely as she could. 

Her makeup was natural enough that she didn’t look ridiculous, but emphasized enough for all of her hard work to show up on the camera, she curled her hair and put the front up in a soft braid that circled the back of her head, and she slipped on a still professional but definitely tight black sweater dress, and a soft emerald green sweater, with knee-high black boots over sheer tights. But in her worry that it wouldn’t be what they wanted, she threw a couple more options into the back of her car before heading over to the local studio space that they had rented for the day. 

When she arrived, there were more cars than she was willing to count lines up around the lot, including Kristoff’s truck. Swallowing the lump that was forming in her throat, Anna got out of her car, elected to leave the other clothing so she didn’t look like a crazy person, and walked with purpose towards the studio doors. 

She was immediately greeted by Gerda, who smiled at her warmly. “I see you’ve taken care of hair and makeup, perfect,” she started, leading Anna by the elbow towards the small green room. “There are snacks and drinks back here while you wait. They’re just finishing up the shots for the players in jerseys, and we’ll be able to proceed with your segment soon. 

It was a whirlwind and Anna was grateful she processed anything that was said to her before Gerda ran off to find the next issue she needed to handle. 

There were a couple unfamiliar faces, but Anna’s eyes locked on to the one other female in the room, and let out a sigh of relief when she approached. “You must be Anna,” she smiled, her voice gentle. “Honeymaren, but you can just call me Honey.” Anna’s nose scrunched unwillingly, laughter in expression evident, and Honey smiled in response. “My parents are hippies, what can I say?”

Anna shook her hand before letting out another laugh. “I like it, it’s sweet.”

“... Like Honey?” 

They shared a laugh and Anna felt suddenly more at ease. It was nice to meet someone around her age and her gender in such a male-dominated area. She quickly learned that Honey was the same age as her sister, was in PR, and had been doing this for six years now. “So,” Anna started, clasping her hands together in front of her hips. “Is it always this crazy?”

“Oh, you have no idea,” Honey laughed, gesturing to the door. “If you want, we can go watch the videographer for a minute? It’s usually less crowded in the studio room.”

Anna nodded enthusiastically and they were soon on their way, making the usual small talk. They passed a few players who gave them winks and playful gestures, but none seemed too eager to stop and talk with them. Honey told her it was only because they had to go get into their suits for the talking head portion of filming and not because they didn’t want to talk to her, and Anna did her best to brush it off.

“These boys are going to be talking to me plenty over the season, I don’t blame them for not wanting to talk to me right now.”

With a chuckle, Honey pushed open the heavy studio door and nodded, leading Anna in. “I think they’ve just got the goalies left, and then it’ll be your turn!”

Anna realized exactly what that meant and felt her cheeks warm as she glanced up just in time to see Kristoff pulling off his mask to listen to the director, his blonde hair fluffy and falling around his ears in a gentle curl at the end. His face was serious until some comment she couldn’t hear made him laugh, and Anna could feel the warmth in her cheeks spread all the way to her toes. 

So he does smile. And of course it was a really pretty smile, too. 

What good were his looks if they were given to a man with his personality? 

She watched with interest as a photographer slid in to take some headshots, mask on and off, posing as if he were playing, and some just standing. 

“For stat boards,” Honey had chimed in with a grin. 

And then it was the videographers turn, and he made him do some traditional goalie stops. A dive, a slide, all these things that, too Anna, seemed like they would be impossible to do with all that gear and padding. But Kristoff made it look easy. 

They finished up quickly - Kristoff had been doing this for a few years now, and he moved to let their backup goalie do the same. He took his mask off again, shaking his hair loose, and Anna couldn’t say she wasn’t completely struck with his strong jaw and bright grin as he walked towards the exit. The one she was standing right in front of.

“Honeymaren,” he grinned, holding up his fist for a bump from the PR specialist. “Nice to see you as always.” Then his eyes drifted to meet hers, and Anna could swear she saw his pupils expand. “Anna…” 

She swallowed, expecting the worse.

“Don’t be nervous,” he winked, and Anna felt heat pooling in her stomach. “Just have fun with it.”

And then he pushed through them, his gear making him almost double his normal size, which was already more than double her size, and Anna felt herself gawking at him as he left. “That,” she sighed, disbelief in her eyes. “Is the nicest he’s ever been to me.”

Honey let out a loud laugh, covering her mouth with her hand. “Oh, Bjorgman. His bark is worse than his bite, I’ll tell you what.”

Anna wasn’t sure if she believed it, but it was a pleasant surprise nonetheless. 

—

“Thanks for watching IBTV.”

The director made one sharp clap and the lights changed, and Anna let out the biggest breath she hadn’t even realized she was holding. A makeup artist trotted up to her, powdering her forehead and Anna felt distinctly uncomfortable under the scrutiny of the whole team. 

“Great, that was excellent, Anna.” He swirled his pointer finger around the room signaling for a reset, and Anna felt herself flush. “One more, okay?” 

She nodded, stepping back to her mark and took in a deep breath as she stood straighter. Risking a glance to the side where she new Gerda and Honey were watching, Anna squinted through the lights when she swore she saw two much bigger bodies beside the women. 

Oh, god damn it. 

Kristoff and Sven were standing there, suited up and hair tamed, watching with grins on their faces. Kristoff just kept his arms crossed tightly over his broad chest as Sven gave her a double thumbs up, and Anna smiled back before switching her attention back to the camera. 

“Hey guys, Anna Arne with IBTV, and today we’re doing something fun.” The director had asked her to be more animated, so she did her best to move naturally. Arms swung wide, fingers spread out for emphasis as she danced through her spiel. “Have you ever wondered who your favorite player idolized when they were a kid? How about their favorite Disney film? Whether or not they like olives?” 

She heard a small chuckle come from the crew and took it as solid encouragement. 

“Well,” she winked, leaning forward as if she were sharing a secret. “Tune in here to find out all of that and more, on Breaking the Ice, your Arendelle Ice Breakers’ weekly interviews.”

The director cut in to send her to her other mark, asking for her to do the outro again, clapping enthusiastically when she nailed it. “Fantastic job, that’s the one!”

Anna couldn’t help herself as she almost literally jumped for joy, pumping her fist as subtly as she could before stepping off the small platform and skipping over to Gerda and Honeymaren, both smiling just as wide as she was.

“You’re a natural,” Honey grinned, patting her arm. “It’s like you belong in front of a camera.” 

Gerda simply nodded in agreement, clear pride evident on her features. “I can’t wait to get you on the ice with the boys.”

Anna had only a moment to relish in the praise before she felt Sven’s heavy arm drape around her shoulders, stealing all of her attention. “All right, Anna! You rocked that.” She flushed as he grinned, turning her around to face Kristoff. “Now, ready to have some real fun?”

And with that, Sven was dragging her down the hall to the bigger studio space, the one with a solid white backdrop that they had been doing the player portraits in. Kristoff was following closely behind, a silent but looming presence. In the regular light of the hallway, Anna was finally able to fully take in how they looked, and grinned. “You guys look so nice!”

Sven’s curls were tamed and defined, slick as they fell over his dark skin, complemented nicely by his maroon suit and brown tie. She wasn’t surprised that he was the type to wear something more out there and daring, but it still filled her with glee to see something so bold. 

Kristoff, alternatively, was wearing a more classic suit, dark grey with a powder blue tie that made his eyes warmer, honey brown and sweet as he laughed at Sven’s antics. Anna only just noticed that his hair was gelled back, stiff and sleek. 

It looked nice, but she weirdly found herself missing the shagginess of it as it brushed over his brows. 

Her cheeks reddened as Kristoff glanced down, catching her staring, and turned her attention back forward.

—

The interviews went well. All the players responded well to her, laughing at some of the more ludicrous questions that included props, and Anna found herself relaxing with each set.

Sven was midway through the lineup, and was as cocky as ever. “Lay it on me, sister,” he laughed as they started, Anna poking at his shoulder. “I’m up for the challenge.”

The questions started easy, just some dumb this or thats, would you rathers, hockey tips, and favorites. Then there was trivia about things not-hockey related such as Disney princesses and 90s television stars. Finally, there were challenges. Can you juggle? Can you beat your teammate in arm wrestling? Can you do a handstand? 

Players were allowed to skip any question they wanted as this was all for fun, but leave it to Sven to take on each and every one.

Anna was belly laughing by the end of it, as he laid on the floor after trying and failing to do a cartwheel. “You should see Kristoff,” he laughed. “He does these in the locker room all the time.”

“That so?”

Anna trotted off the set, knowing it was unconventional, and grabbed the goalie by the arm, dragging him in front of the camera. “Come on, show us.” 

He held his hands up in front of his chest in protest, a blush evident on his cheeks. “Oh, no, no, that’s fine.” 

Sven stood up suddenly, squatting to be the same height as Anna, as they started chanting “Cartwheel, cartwheel, CARTWHEEL!”

“It’s just for warm-up!” He persisted, ears turning red. Sven continued on, even as she let up a little. Anna watched his entire body tense before he let out one heavy sigh and gave in. “Fine, you assholes.”

They’d bleep that out in post, she was sure.

“But if I break anything, you’re paying for it.” And then he was shrugging out of his jacket, and Anna was thoroughly enjoying the stretch of the thin white dress shirt over his muscles, the whole studio was clapping, egging him on. 

And then he did a fucking cartwheel, his whole face red by the end of it. 

She couldn’t hide the surprise. “Wow!” She just about shouted, closing the distance between them. “Where did you learn to do that?”

Kristoff was still blushing, his eyes avoiding hers. “Ugh, I have two sisters,” he laughed, leaning forward to pick up his jacket. “Every day was gymnastics growing up, so… I don’t know, I just picked it up, I guess.” He shrugged it on and Anna tried not to be disappointed about it. “It feels like it gets my blood pumping, so I try to do them to wake up before every game. Maybe it’s all in my head.”

Anna laughed, taking in the genuine smile that had spread on his cheeks. 

“That’s… impressive.”

He tried to run a hand through his hair and frowned as he messed it up, glancing up to the camera. “Yeah, well, now I’m not answering anything else.” 

Anna knew it was a tease when he leaned over to punch the top of Sven’s arm, grinning widely.

#btpfic #feistypantswrites #hope this doesn’t come off as like ooc lmfaoooo #it just was fun #and if u know hockey players u know some of them have crazy superstitions

[honeymoonjin]

A/N: It’s here!!! Like I said before, this fic will be a lot lighter and more humor-based than DOPE, so that you have some variety! 3k words.

LOST IN TRANSLATION ↳What do you do when you have no qualifications but want to see the world? You help teach English in a Korean primary school, apparently. ↳Principal!Jin, math teacher!Yoongi, PE teacher!Hoseok, English teacher!Namjoon, school nurse!Jimin, art teacher!Taehyung, and science teacher!Jungkook.

CHAPTER ONE ↳You arrive in Seoul and begin to meet the teachers you’ll be spending your whole year with.

You hover awkwardly in the arrivals foyer, consulting your phone again, reading the email you had been sent a week ago. According to the information given, there should’ve been someone there for you already, waiting to drive you to the school.

But no matter how often you glanced around, up on your tiptoes as you tried to scan the massive area of Incheon International Airport, you couldn’t see any signs with your name on them.

Oh shit, you thought, what if they’ve written my name in Hangeul? You sigh and begin another dutiful look-over, deeply focused on the countless signs with Korean characters on them, trying to recognise ones that would make up your first or last name.

You just about jump out of your skin when someone taps you on the shoulder out of nowhere.

“Are you Y/n, here for teaching?” He’s younger than you were expecting for a schoolteacher, although you remember the email stating he was in charge of physical education and the rec sports teams, so maybe it was better to have someone still pretty fit. And he definitely was fit. Although he was in a grass-stained polo shirt and basketball shorts, he had a contagious smile and kind eyes, and his dark, wavy hair was endearingly a little bit messy.

Clearly you were looking over him for a little too long, because he smiles sheepishly and pats down his shirt. “Sorry about the messy clothes. I came straight from practice.”

You frown, hoping your Korean will be at least coherent if not entirely correct. “But it is 8am.”

He gives you a wide beam and laughs a little as you get through the sentence one syllable at a time. “Yes, soccer practice is from 6am to 7:30 on a Monday morning.”

“Oh. The kids still play soccer when it is very early?”

He shrugs, beginning to lead you towards the carpark area. “Actually, we have 6am sport every day of the week. Soccer on Monday, basketball on Tuesday, swimming on Wednesday. You get the idea.”

“And you teach all sport teams?”

“Your Korean is fantastic, you know?” He chimes the final part in a cutely accented English, and you blush at the praise, shaking your head modestly. “I teach almost all of the sport teams. Technically the mathematics competition team is classified as a sports team, but Teacher Min does that. You’ll meet him later.”

You nod slowly as he talks, a little overwhelmed by how fast he’s speaking. You had studied the language for five years, but all of the other teacher’s assistants you had spoken to had said a thousand times how when you were finally confronted by a native speaker in that country, your mind went blank and you forgot every single word.

It was what you had been obsessively worrying about on the whole red-eye flight over, and you were lucky that some last minute studying had made you feel a little more confident in your abilities.

He comes to a stop beside a shabby Nissan, unlocking it and gesturing for you to get into the passenger side. It smells like sweat in there, and you can see a random assortment of various balls and other equipment stashed into the backseat and boot. “Sorry about the mess in the back,” he apologises, starting the car up and pulling away towards the exits.

“You don’t need to apologise, I’m very thankful you drive me from airport to school.” The matter is forgotten completely as the car breaches the exit and your eyes are filled with light. Several skyscrapers dot the horizon line in the near distance, and everything looks so advanced and modern. There’s a large amount of people milling around outside, and the traffic just around the airport is rather congested, but the man navigates it with ease. You sit in a comfortable silence for a good half an hour before directing your gaze back inside the car with a sudden thought. “Sorry, I don’t know your name now.”

“Oh, you forgot?”

“Ah, yes, I forgot.”

He glances over at you intermittingly, hands relaxed on the wheel as he winds through the streets of Seoul. “My name’s Hoseok. Well, Teacher Jung.”

“Nice to meet you. I’m Y/n.” You purse your lips in the awkward silence that falls, trying to work out something grammatically correct to say. “Uh, the school is good? You like it?”

He hums his affirmation, and with a surprised blink you realize the car is already pulling up to a relatively small primary school, heading towards the staff parking. “You’ll love it here. The kids are great, and the staff are more like family.” He slides into a park in one clean swoop and stops the car. “Alright, out we go.”

You can’t see much of the school before you’re taken straight to the reception building, but it looks like there are only five or six classroom blocks out back, all lined up around a slightly bumpy and overgrown sports field. When you had applied to three different schools in South Korean, they were all smaller schools. You had decided you’d feel more comfortable with a rural primary school rather than a large one in the city. But you hadn’t connected the dots that a school away from the hustle and bustle of the city meant that funding wasn’t so high.

It probably worked out quite well for a school like this to get a teacher’s assistant. You had paid for your own flights, and they basically just provided you with a homestay for accommodation and a small weekly allowance for your work. Coming fresh out of a half-completed university degree, it was a nice break from student life for you, and a good opportunity for them to save a little money on staff.

One thing that immediately stuck out to you was the lack of receptionist in the reception office. Technically, it looked more like a waiting room with a few offices branching off. Hoseok bounced up to the door right across from the main entrance and rapped three times.

Principal Kim Seokjin, the plaque read, and the amount of time it took you to work that out by reading the characters, the door was falling inwards, and a warm voice called out, “Ah, Y/n, come in!”

You look up from the silver engraving and your mouth falls open. In the correspondence that had occurred between you and the principal, you had always imagined a grouchy but softhearted, slightly older gentleman. Okay, if you were honest with yourself, you just imagined Ji Seokjin from Running Man. If the shoe fits; but in this case it most certainly didn’t.

It felt like you had stumbled straight onto a cheesy k-drama set. He had honey blonde hair that swept over his much darker eyebrows, perfect bone structure and full, pouty lips that made you want to pass out just so he could perform mouth-to-mouth. “Uh…Yes, I’m Y/n. Nicetomeetyousir.”

He grins at your rushed introduction and invites you in to sit. His office is warmer than outside, and you automatically tune in to the principal’s brief conversation with Hoseok as you take off your coat and scarf.

“…those clothes. Didn’t you have time for a shower?”

“Why am I not hearing ‘Thank you, Hoseok, I’m so grateful, Hoseok’? I could’ve easily gotten Yoongi to go. She would’ve turned right back around and hopped on the next plane out of here.”

“Go back to class, Jung. Year 3 PE starts in eight minutes.”

“You’re most welcome for picking her up, sir. I appreciate the thanks.”

Principal Kim huffs and shuts the door gently behind him, making his way back to sit behind the large desk you were sitting across from. As your gaze follows him around the room, you notice a few frames nailed to the wall; a teaching certificate, a local management award, a photo of the school itself, and, larger than the rest, a professionally-shot picture of himself, with a white blouse and some round-framed glasses, lips slightly parted and staring dead-on into the camera.

You cough lightly as he turns to you with the exact same posture and expression. “How was your flight?”

“Good. I slept the flight.” Every time you say a sentence, you cringe internally when you know you’ve messed up, but he doesn’t really seem to react.

He breaks the gaze, reaches into a drawer and pulls out a stapled pile of pages, tossing it over to you to flick through. “There’s a map of the premises, though I imagine you’ll be able to find your way around soon enough, a copy of the official contract, and some general advice for living in Korea. Don’t worry too much about all that, since you’ll be living with a member of staff. He’ll take you to and from work each day and we’ve given him some extra funding for meals for you.”

You nod gratefully. “Thank you, sir. It is very helpful.”

A grin lights up his face as he leans back in his chair. “Now, that’s the boring stuff out of the way, are you ready for a tour?”

You blink, not understanding one of the words he used. “Tour?”

He gestures vaguely around himself. “I’ll show you the school, introduce you to our other teachers, that’s what tour means.”

“Oh, I see. Yes, let’s do it!”

One of the first things you learn about Kim Seokjin is that he walks pretty fast with those long legs of his, and you spent so much energy on half-jogging to keep up with him, that as he explained the history of the school, you couldn’t really focus on that too. You tried your best to make general sounds of surprise or agreement so that he thought you were listening, and hoped you weren’t missing anything too important.

It wasn’t until you finished following him around the school field that he comes to a halt outside the first classroom and you can finally zone in on what he’s saying. “…is the physical education classroom since it’s the closest to our equipment shed. Jung is teaching in there now, but you’ve already met him, so we won’t go in. You won’t really have to go over here much, but I thought I should mention that if you ever get here early, this is the only classroom that’s unlocked since it’s where the kids meet for early morning sport. There’s a bathroom in there too, so it’s a good place to stay warm until we officially open at 8am.”

You barely have to walk fifteen meters to be standing in front of the second building. Instead of staying outside on the concrete quad, he leads you up a short wooden ramp and into a small locker room. When he continues speaking, he’s dropped his voice to a stage whisper. “To the left, Class 2, that’s a basic room, we have most classes like Korean, English and Math in there.” He pops up to the small window on the door. “Ah, Min’s doing Year 5 math. Let’s go in.”

“Oh, we don’t have to…”

Your protests go unheard as he barges right in without knocking. “Can they do Pythagoras yet, Teacher Min?”

A low voice from inside the classroom calmly replies, “You can’t do Pythagoras yet, Seokjin.”

Principal Kim turns to you from half-in, half-out of the doorway, and tips his head over to get you to follow him inside.

The voice belongs to a man with dark hair and perfect skin. Like Principal Kim, he’s pretty young, and you’re beginning to regret not listening better to Kim’s speech, wondering if he had explained why all the teachers looked well under thirty so far. He’s lounging at the desk, one leg crossed leisurely over the other, eyebrows raised from behind his glossy bangs. His students, kids around 9 years old staring blankly at the three division questions written on the blackboard.

“You haven’t placed first in a regional beauty pageant, but you don’t see me complaining,” Kim bites back.

The teacher quirks his lips up a little in bemusement. “I wonder how long it’ll take you to realize that’s not a relevant achievement in the line of education.” His dark eyes flick over to you, and he raises his eyebrows further. “The new kid arrived?”

You bow to him. “Hello, my name is Y/n, nice to meet you.”

Principal Kim smiles benevolently and turns to the kids, who have long since given up on the math questions and are watching the interaction with wide eyes. “Children, Y/n will be helping you with your English. Take good care of her.” He leans over to you. “Say a little something about yourself.”

If there’s one thing worse than being put on the spot for an icebreaker, it’s being put on the spot for an icebreaker in a foreign language. Your mind whirs on double-time as you desperately try to find something interesting to say. “I have not been to Korea before, it is very kind here but more winter than my home country.”

An unreadable smile plays on Teacher Min’s lips. “What a relief that it’s English you’ll be teaching.”

You blush violently as Kim scolds the Teacher and quickly hustles you out of the classroom, shutting the door behind him with a little more vigor than usual. “Sorry about Min. He’s the only math teacher we could find. You’ll get used to him.”

“It’s fine,” you breath out with an awkward laugh, “I know my Korean is not good. I want to learn better here.”

He pats you on the shoulder, then points behind you. “That there is our art classroom, I’ll introduce you to Teacher Kim.” You frown. “Different Kim. Actually, there are three Kims at the school including me, so we call the other two Art Kim and English Kim. Anyway, let’s go in.”

You’ve always been a little biased towards the arts; you would’ve gone to university to study art history and painting were it not for your parents insistence that education was a much better field, and so it gave you a certain kind of wonder to see the people that had pursued their dreams in the field, and the kind of life they led where their job was their passion.

Your first impression of the classroom was how chaotic it was compared to the one across the hall. Instead of four lines of chairs and tables, students were bunched into small groups dotted around the room. The room itself was lined with benches; some had sinks where old streaks of paint led down the drain, some had boxes of charcoal sticks and pastels, others held cardboard sculptures and mock-ups. A fond smile played on your face at the scene you were met with. Principal Kim had chosen not to noisily announce his presence, and you could see the teacher looking like a giant on the extra small and short children’s chairs, talking quietly but passionately to a student attempting to draw an old green bottle that sat in the middle of the table.

His voice was surprisingly deep, and his hair was much longer than most men you had seen, flopping over in the front and reaching near his shirt collar in the back. Like every art teacher you had ever met, he had an endearingly quirky fashion sense, wearing a patchy pink woolen robe over a dress shirt and pants. The other students at the table bunched up as best they could, listening intensely and looking at him like he was explaining all the secrets of the universe. You remembered that feeling of awe well.

He glanced up when the principal called out his name, and let a boxy smile overtake his face. He quickly excused himself from the table and stood up to his full height, approaching you two as the kids called out in disappointment behind him.

You notice that when Principal Kim introduces the two of you, Art Kim never once takes his eyes off of you, staring at your face with some intent curiosity. You smile at him awkwardly and give a short bow. “Nice to meet you, Teacher Kim. Art is my favorite school subject.”

His lips drop open slightly. “Oh, really? Why do you like art?”

You weren’t prepared for the extremely open-ended and opinionated question, and it takes you a moment of stumbling over your words to get any coherent thought out. “Well, I see…no, I think art is, uh, beautiful, because it is…um, it is like a conversation from artist to person looking. I’m sorry, that doesn’t make sen-”

“It makes perfect sense,” he cuts you off quickly. His chestnut hair glows under the harsh lights in the room and his eyes stare deeply into yours. “You’re completely right. Art isn’t just a picture, it’s meant to be given and experienced. The artist is sending a message to the viewer, of course, but art is nothing if the viewer doesn’t see it and give something back, even if it’s just an emotion or an analysis.”

You don’t understand most of the words he just said. “Yes, exactly.”

He smiles at you again, shyly this time. “It is very nice to meet you, Y/n. I look forward to seeing you around.”

Principal Kim looks back and forth between the two of you, blinking like he’s just as lost in the conversation as you are. “Thank you for your time, Teacher Kim, we will be moving on with the tour now.”

Art Kim bows quickly and gives you a cute little wave, then goes back to his students, pulling up a chair at a different table and immediately entering into a conversation about whether the young boy should make the sky orange and the sun blue instead of doing it the normal way.

Once you’ve left the building and stand outside in front of classroom 4, Principal Kim turns to you and tuts. “Ah, this tour is so boring! Math and drawing pictures. But don’t worry, next is the science blo-”

He’s cut off by a loud bang coming from inside, which is paired with a flash of white and kids squealing in excitement and delight. A thin wisp of smoke trails out of one of the half-open windows.

Principal Kim lets out an exhausted sigh. “Dammit, Jeon Jungkook.”

TAGLIST  Send me a message or an ask if you wish to be added, and you’ll be notified every time I post a new chapter of LiT.

#bts fic #bts x reader #bts au #bts imagine #bts scenarios #seokjin x reader #jimin x reader #hoseok x reader #taehyung x reader #jungkook x reader #namjoon x reader #yoongi x reader

[romaniassexdungeon]

Our Souls Briefly Touched in Tallinn

Pairing: OzEst

Rating: Lemon

Summary:  It was by chance they met, on a warm summer's night in Old Tallinn, a fleeting moment they shared together, never to be recreated. But, in the end, it was exactly what they both needed. The heartbreak, the yearning, the anticipation, it was all worth it, just to be together.

Notes: Written with @tikola-nesla. Tbh we’ve just been sitting here laughing at our own stupid jokes. Yeah pay no attention to the title or summary, this is 8000 words of absolute jack shit wrote by two sleep-deprived idiots. Every line only served to get a laugh out each other. This was supposed to be cute and fluffy, something we'd come up with while walking around Tallinn at like midnight. Yeah, it quickly descended into piss, but please enjoy.

Logan - Australia Fabrice - Cameroon Angie - Seychelles Hunapo - New Zealand

Read on AO3

...

The cobbled streets of Old Tallinn shone under the lights of restaurants and shop windows. A violinist played for tips by a wall, a family laughed over a late meal outside of a restaurant, and three drunk tourists were chasing down their friend.

“Logan, come back!”

Logan started walking backwards, purely to flip the other three off. “Eat my ass, Febreeze!”

One of the three nudged him. “Go on, Fabrice,” she laughed, “Take one for the team.”

Fabrice glared at her. “Don’t encourage him, Angie.”

“What’s so wrong with my arse?” Logan cried, “Got some juicy melons on me!”

“Oh my god, Lo-”

“Logan, I swear-”

“He’s gonna do it, isn’t-”

Logan pulled his shorts down to his ankles and continued to run ahead, then immediately toppled over onto the cobbles.

“Fuck! What are these made of?”

“Stone.” Fabrice stood over him, offering him a hand up. “Think you’ve had a little much.”

Logan pulled himself up and blew a raspberry into his face.

“Logan, I can see your whole dick.”

“Aww, Huna!” He blew a kiss at them. “You’re welcome!”

He cackled, kicking his shorts off and dancing wildly to the violinist’s gentle tune.

Huna picked up his shorts and chased after him. “You’re gonna get arrested!”

“If they can’t handle my fat balls, my juicy, juicy, nutsacks, that’s on them!”

Angie ran along with them, taking the lead, and jumped onto his back.

“Hey! Piss off me!”

She held onto him tight. “Put your shorts on, dumbass.”

“What are you doing!?”

She thought about it for a moment. “Fuck knows. Put them on before children see.”

“It’s two in the morning! It’s on their parents for not putting them in bed!”

“You can’t talk parenting with your dick out!”

“Watch me!”

Fabrice sighed. “Logan.”

Logan grumbled and prized Angie off his back. “I’ll put them on but only because it’s cold.”

She steadied herself on his shoulder. “Good boy.”

“Not because you told me to.”

“Good enough for us.”

“We can’t let him out of our sights,” said Fabrice.

...

“You let him out of your sights?” cried Fabrice, the moment he stepped out of the men’s room and found Logan missing from the group of faces at the bar. He wasn’t trying to win on the quiz machines, or the condom ones, and he wasn’t flirting with anyone, or everyone. He was nowhere to be seen.

Hunapo and Angie shrugged. “It’s just easier,” said Hunapo.

“He’s just so annoying,” she added.

“Yeah, it’s our holiday too.”

“He’ll start taking his clothes off again!”

“But at least this way, he does it far away from us and people don’t assume we’re with him.”

“We are with him!” Fabrice protested.

“Do we want the police knowing that?”

Fabrice shrugged. “They’ll find out when we pay his bail.” He looked out of the tiny window. “Poor Logan, off by himself, wandering around lost and alone. I hope he’s okay.”

“He’ll be balls deep in something by now,” Hunapo nudged him, “he’s fine.”

...

Eduard sat by himself, as usual, in the corner of his local. His top hat lay next to his collection of pint glasses: one full and several empty. He was drinking too fast for the bar staff to collect them all. His traditional outfit, the one he’d been wearing for two days now, was still neat, but his hair was starting to get in a state, wisps sticking up all over where he’d run his long fingers through it. The main sign that he was not alright, though, were the bags under his eyes and grey tone to his scarily pale face.

Second place.

His choir - the best in Europe, probably, almost definitely - had come second to a group of 50 schoolchildren. He’d been beaten by children. No wonder his parents were never proud of him.

He sighed and downed half his beer in one go.

The rest of his choir were celebrating, but he couldn’t. He was going to drown his sorrows, then plan for next year. With a head start, there should be no reason for them to lose again. It wasn’t second place, it was first last place, and not good enough.

This was why his choir never wanted to drink with him.

“Same again?” the waitress asked, and he nodded, finishing the second half of the pint. “Okay, but I’m getting worried.”

“I’m fine,” he mumbled. “I’m- I’m fine.”

“You should be. Second place! We’re all really proud of you.”

He pulled a face. “We should’ve won. It was my job to make sure we won. My dad was right, though. I’m useless.”

“He said that?”

“No, but he implied it. A lot. Never proud of me. My mother neither. Nothing I did was good enough.” Maybe he should’ve told those kids they’d reached their peak, that it would be all downhill from here on out and, eventually, they’d come to the sad conclusion that they weren’t “gifted” but average after all. But apparently that was “being a sore loser”.

She looked very uncomfortable. “Sir, I’m not sure you should have any more alcohol.”

“Aw, Maarja. Don’t cut me off, maybe I’ll feel something soon.”

“Sir, do you need me to call you a cab?”

“I’m fine. I- I’ll be good.” He drank his next pint slower, slouched and miserable. Maarja nodded and went to take the order of a tourist who’d just walked in. Eduard could immediately tell he was Australian, by his loud, annoying voice that started up like a foghorn the moment he locked eyes with someone. Every Estonian in the bar looked very uncomfortable.

Hopefully, he’d be left alone.

The Australian got his own pint and looked around for someone to talk to. Eduard avoided eye contact like he was a teacher asking the class a question, or an Enderman.

No such luck, as usual. He heard the chair opposite him scrape against the knobbly wooden floor.

“Terry!”

Eduard blinked at him.

“You know, Terry! Hello!”

“Tere,” he said, with the passive-aggression he learnt from his mother.

“That! Terry! Anyway, can I-“ He stumbled over his feet trying to sit on the table, tipping it over and sending pint glasses falling in the process. “-can I try on your hat, mate?”

Eduard glanced up at him. “Might as well.”

Logan got it onto his head - with a little difficulty fitting it on - and sat down next to him. “How do I look?”

“Like a man in a hat.”

“But like… a sexy one?”

“Like a hat-wearing one.”

“Shoulda seen me earlier. Had my whole dick out. It was great.”

Eduard honestly, truly, genuinely, had no idea what to say to that. But he knew he hated Australians. Especially if they happened to be tourists.

“What’s with the... “ Logan gestured vaguely at him.

“Air of crushing defeat? It’s the crushing defeat.”

“Nah, the… clothes. Big coat thing.”

“Oh. It’s my choir’s uniform for the music contest.”

He gasped. “You’re one of the singing boys!”

“Mm. We lost.”

“Still performed though, ey? Did your funky funky tunes.”

“We were beaten by children,” he scoffed.

“How old?”

Eduard shrugged. “Small, I guess. I don’t know baby ages. More than 3 but less than 16.”

“Bit of a range there.”

“Yeah, but the point is, our choir sucks.”

“You performed in the… the big thing, though!”

Eduard shrugged. “Still lost.”

“What place did you even get?”

“Second.”

“ Second ? That’s fucking amazing!”

“We were supposed to win.”

“You must be pretty fuckin’ good anyway. Or- or you wouldn’t be in second. Maybe you’re just not cute enough.”

“This is a choir festival, not a cuteness contest.”

“Yeah, or you’d’ve won.” He winked.

“I should have.”

“But you are... “ He paused for a long moment, then patted his face. “You are cute enough to win everything.”

“Can I help you?” he asked, bordering on the border of passive aggression.

“Just wanted to make friends! You look all... Lots of drinks and one guy-y.”

“I am one guy.”

“Well maybe we can be two guys.” Logan winked with both eyes. “And even more drinks.”

“You don’t want to get drinks with me. I’m a has-been. I’ve peaked.”

“You’ve come in higher than second before? Like… gotten all win-y?”

“Does it matter now that I’m nothing?”

“Hey.”

Eduard looked up from his drink. Logan was uncomfortably close to his face.

“I think you’re a lot of things.”

“Like what? Nothing. That’s what.”

“I think you’re cute, and talented. And a little sad.”

“A little?” asked Maarja.

“Yeah, I’m very sad, all the time.” Eduard bit his tongue to stop him oversharing. He hated oversharing, and getting emotional, but it happened sometimes. Usually at the worst moment, like 10am at the Rimi he’d wandered into for potato salad and painkillers to cure his hangover.

“You’re too pretty to be sad,” Logan stroked behind his ear and gently dislodged the arm of his glasses. Eduard wanted to sob from the human touch, and may have leaned into it. “You deserve to be happy.”

“Thanks, I’m cured,” he said flatly, fixing his glasses.

“Can you sing for me, sing-y boy?”

“Why not just listen to a tumble dryer full of cats, it can’t be that different.”

“You came in second!”

“I’ll ne- never sing again, ever.”

“So you’re not performing next year?”

“Well, our choir is, every year, and I’m in our choir, and I’m not missing it, but I’m still never singing again.”

“Ah, I’ll get that song out of you! I bet you sing good.”

“No.”

“You sing good. Like a good singy boy. You make songs.”

“You haven’t heard me.”

“Well, your talky voice is nice as well. Pretty. Such a pretty accent. Like your pretty face.”

“My singing voice is clearly my downfall.”

“Aw, singy man! Don’t be sad! You’re the singy man!”

“I was. I can’t call myself that anymore.”

“Well, I don’t know your actual name, sooo… singy man.”

“Eduard.”

“Logan. What y’doing after this, Eduard?”

“I’ll probably drink more, and then go home, and then drink even more, and then eat some potato salad.”

“Sounds hot. Mind if I tag along?”

“Do you have anywhere else to be?”

His face fell as he remembered. “Aw, shit. My friends. I’m here with them, but they were making me put clothes on and stuff so I kinda… went my own way. Guess you could say I’m a wild card. A real rebel, you know? Can’t be tamed.” He winked again, with both eyes.

“Are you staying together? Just reconvene.”

“Oh, yeah. Reeky… that. We’re staying in a place. Big pink building. Orangey roof.”

“We’re in Old Town. That doesn’t narrow things down.”

“Well, I’ll un-narrow your butthole.”

Eduard sighed. “You’re lost, aren’t you?”

“Yeah. I don’t know where they are.”

He scratched the back of his head casually. “I guess I’ll help you out, if you want.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, might was well. I can’t leave you out here, can I?”

“No, I’ll end up fucking something.”

“Up?”

“Maybe. Either way, nudity happens. That’s the point, yeah?”

“The point of what ?”

“Dunno. All of it?”

“Very philosophical of you.”

“You’re full of sofical.”

“You’re full of alcohol.”

Logan nodded. “Yes. So are you.”

“So I am.” He took his hat back and stood up. “Come on, Australian. Let’s get you home.”

Logan made a weird, probably happy, face. “Wow, you’re in such a rush to get me home.”

“The sooner you’re away from people the better.”

“How can you say that, mate? I’m a gift.”

“Do you have a receipt?”

“You’re cranky when you lose.”

Eduard glowered at him.

“Come on, walk me home, and I’ll cheer you up.” He spanked Eduard’s ass and stumbled out of the pub. Maarja gave Eduard a look as he shuffled out after him.

The summer air was as cool as his father’s heart after Eduard came home with a bad test result that one time. Logan struggled on the cobblestones, looking around at everyone in wonder. There were a few locals about, but it was mostly drunk tourists. People sat outside restaurants and pubs, and groups of friends walked past them.

Logan took Eduard’s hand and set off in a random direction. Eduard immediately began sweating up a storm at the touch. People didn’t touch him, and he didn’t hold hands in public. He squirmed at the stares, but Logan was so big and tough and no one would mess with him. He was warm, too.

Eduard told him all about the Old Town, about the different buildings and the history of Tallinn, and when Logan started to panic over the lack of familiar buildings, Eduard sang to him softly. Logan seemed to appreciate it, even if it didn’t help his overall mood.

The two of them stood in the square as Logan ran his fingers through his hair, exhaling sharply.

“Maybe I’ll remember when I’m sober, but right now, my brain’s completely fried.”

“Have your friends replied yet?”

Logan checked his phone. “No. Nothing. Dickheads.”

Eduard sighed. “Look, you can stay at my place, if you like. I can get you a blanket and you can sleep on the sofa.”

“Sounds cold,” Logan whined, rubbing the back of Eduard’s hand with a thumb.

“Okay, you have the bed and I sleep on the sofa.”

“I mean…” Logan glanced at him, “if there’s only one bed… we could always… share it.”

Eduard’s heart stopped for a moment. He’d never shared a bed with anyone, romantically or platonically. He couldn’t even imagine what that would feel like to lie next to another person. Cuddle them. Maybe even kiss them. Feel warmth and affection for once in his life.

“That’s ridiculous,” he spluttered, “unless you’re serious.” He hoped Logan was.

Logan squeezed his hand. “Very serious.”

Eduard felt things tingle in his spine. “Well, it’s- it’s not far. Just around the corner.” He reached a hand in his pocket to begin fumbling for his keys; he wasn’t letting Logan go. It had been a while since he’d had another person stay over, and he was terrified Logan would change his mind.

Logan only seemed to have one thing on his mind, when they got to Eduard’s front door and he wrapped his arms around his waist from behind, chin resting on Eduard’s shoulder. Something poked at his butt.

This was the closest he’d come to doing a sex in his entire life.

He lead Logan across the hallway and upstairs, shushing him every time he tried to talk in that booming, accented voice he could barely understand. He was convinced that someone would come out to tell them off any second now. He unlocked the door to his flat and pushed Logan inside.

When he opened the door, an overly-pampered Pomeranian started barking at him, annoyed at being left alone for most of the day.

“A baby!”

Logan dashed over to the doggy and started stroking her face, making kissy noises and speaking in gibberish. Siiri looked utterly terrified at the intruder, glancing at Eduard for help. Logan picked her up and let her lick his face, before kissing every inch of hers.

“Oh, you’re baby! A baby baby! Beautiful baby baby! I love you!”

“Siiri.”

“Like the… phone?”

“No. But also yes.”

“I love her so much, I’m going to steal her.”

“Don’t!”

“Okay, okay. But I love her. She’s the best, aren’t you Siiri-wiiri,” he smushed her face and rubbed her belly.

Eduard just shook his head. “So, you’ve been immersing yourself in Estonian culture?” asked Eduard, hanging up his coat neatly.

“You could say that,” Logan replied, kicking off his crocs. “Or, at least, immersing my di-”

“Yes, thank you.”

“In Estonians.”

“Alright! Tried any Estonian food?”

“Pu-”

“No!”

“Di-”

“No!”

“But yeah, been eating weird Estonian food.”

“Estonian food isn’t weird.”

“It is, but I kinda like it. Good potatoes, and meats. Lots of meats.”

Eduard decided to pretend he didn’t pick up on the innuendo. “Have you tried kohuke?”

“Like when a bunch of guys nut on someone’s face?”

“That’s bukkake. I mean no, shush. I don’t know what bukkake is. Kohuke is the best and you need to try it.”

“I will! I’ll make a note of that.” After several attempts to unlock his phone, Logan finally opened up his notes and Eduard saw him type “eat cookei”. He decided to move on.

“And the sauna?”

“Never got to one.”

“Your flat doesn’t have a sauna?”

“Yours does? Doos? Doe? Your doe? Anyway, you have a sauna?”

“Of course. What kind of Estonian would I be without one? Would you like to try it?”

“I don’t have my swimming trunks.”

This man got his dick out in public, but wanted to wear swimming trunks in the sauna? Westerners baffled Eduard.

“You go in the sauna naked.”

“Really? Well, I wouldn’t want to disrespect the local culture.” He took off his shirt.

“Yeah, it’s not a weird thing for us. You have public saunas, and families sauna together.”

“So you’ve seen your dad’s dick? Your mum’s snatch?” Logan cackled.

“It’s a normal thing.”

“So Estonians see all the dicks they want, then.”

“Do you want to go in or not?”

“Nah, I will, if you go in with me.”

“Of course.”

“Can I pee in it?”

“Absolutely not.”

“So it’s not like a shower, then?”

Eduard didn’t dignify that with a response, and wandered into the bathroom to get the sauna running. Nice and boiling hot, just how he liked it. The tourist wouldn’t be able to stand it; there was no way he’d be strong enough. If he was still conscious by the time he got out it was too cold.

Logan followed him, taking off his jorts and boxers, and Eduard realised he’d made a terrible mistake.

This man’s penis was at least 6 inches longer than his own.

It looked like a kohuke, actually. But bigger and veinier and rounder. And covered in hair. And Eduard couldn’t take his eyes off it. He wanted it in him like serotonin. Was there any polite way of asking this man to fuck him? He looked like he’d be up for fucking anything.

“I knew you Europeans were all perverts!” Logan covered his junk, and Eduard blushed. “Am I just a piece of meat to you? A hot, foreign piece of quality Australian meat to object-iffy?”

“Sorry, I- sorry. I just… I’ll get naked too, so it’s less weird.” It would probably make things even weirder, and he was a little self-conscious about the 3-inch punisher, but the alternative was having a naked man trapped in his flat and that was just dodgy.

It was weird, being attracted to men with big dicks. It was hot, definitely, and the thought that it might rupture his internal organs and kill him was a nice bonus - not in a freaky way, just in a sad one - but he was as insecure as he was horny. What if they were judging him? What if Logan went back to his friends to laugh at him?

He also got nervous about taking it, but that never stopped him. Hypothetically.

At least it wasn’t cold in the bathroom, he decided as he took off his trousers. That might give him an extra centimetre.

The two of them sat down. He tried to look at his face and make conversation, but the only thought his brain could come up with was along the lines of “it’s three times your size, six inches bigger, a whole three times the size of your dick, it might even be seven inches bigger, maths isn’t happening right now, you could line three of your dicks up and it would be approximately the size of his, please, for the love of god, do not get a boner”.

Too late.

Logan looked at it. Eduard pointedly looked at the glass. He wanted to evaporate into the steam. There was a long period of silence. And then Logan let out a fart: fat, long, and moist. He shut his eyes and smiled, relishing in it for its 10-second entirety.

“That was a good one.”

Eduard was too busy trying not to gag to reply. The smell was fucking rancid, like a skunk had crawled up his arse and died like a week ago. And in the sauna, it was ten times worse.

Logan got himself up and checked the seat. “Just… don’t want to have shat myself. I mean, I can usually tell when I’ve shit, because I start screaming, but it doesn’t hurt to check. We good? Yeah, we’re good. Shit-free this time.”

“Great.” Well, Eduard no longer had a boner.

“Smells fucking ripe though. Take a whiff of that!”

Eduard was trying very hard not to.

“She’s a wet one!”

“Indeed.”

Logan poured water onto the coals. “You ever fuck in these?” he asked. Eduard wasn’t sure whether or not this was an improvement.

“No. That’s disgusting. We’re shedding dead skin; the last thing this water vapor needs is syphilis.” No one fucked in his bed either, but that was beside the point.

“I don’t have siff… that. Anymore. I don’t think.”

Eduard had the disgusting thought that Logan’s dick was that size due to being stuffed full of STDs like a poorly-made teddy bear, or the desired state of his butthole, then he realised that was the kind of anatomical thinking from a guy that didn’t get laid, and hated his surgeon dad enough to refuse to learn about biology.

“Would you even wanna try fucking in this?”

“No, never. The sauna is sacred. I have a bed, though.” He didn’t know if it was the drink or his dick that said that last bit.

“We’re fucking in that, then?”

“Y-yeah,” he squeaked. Was it really that easy? He looked at Logan’s penis and his butthole quivered in anticipation.

Logan took his hand, and squeezed it reassuringly before kissing him, tenderly and lovingly. Just like how Eduard had imagined Harrison Ford doing to him as a teen. Eduard tried not to immediately start crying.

“Thanks.”

“Are you okay?”

“Can you kiss me again, maybe, please, if it’s no trouble?”

Logan laughed at him and kissed him again. He was so warm. He wrapped his arms around Eduard in the hug his parents never gave him. Then again, if Eduard’s parents had given him naked hugs he’d be a different kind of messed up.

“Bed?”

Eduard nodded. “Yeah, it’s in my room.”

They got out of the sauna. Eduard didn’t bother to get dressed, but Logan went out of his way to put his socks back on. Then his crocs and fanny pack, which had “the best almends in tawn” scrawled in tipex, upside down too. Implying Logan didn’t take it off to write that. He knew the reference: the almond cart a few streets down. They were some good-ass almonds, but were now ruined.

“My nips are cold,” he whined. “They need warming. With your mouth-hole.”

Eduard had no idea how to respond, so put his mouth on one of Logan’s nipple’s like a fish, and just kept it there.

“Fucking hell, you never sucked a titty before?”

“I have! Several!” He’d sucked no titties in his life. His mother never even bothered breastfeeding him. He tried to suck Logan’s.

“I think maybe we should just get to the butt-peeing.”

“The what ?”

“I’m just kidding, haha, unless you’re down?”

“No!”

“Okay, just kidding.”

Eduard realised he was going to have to suck this guy’s dick. This monster schlong had to somehow fit in his mouth. And it might have pee on it.

He also realised that this meant someone liked him enough to let him do that, so he let the thought go.

Logan picked him up tenderly, and Eduard curled up against his warm chest like one of those hairless raw chicken cats. Logan kissed the top of his head, and he squeezed his eyes shut to hold back a tear of loneliness.

"So, mate, where's your bedroom?"

"Second door on the left."

Logan carried him into the bedroom and gently set him down on the bed.

“Now, I know you’ve probably heard your first time is supposed to hurt, but it won’t if we prepare properly.” He kissed his forehead.

“This isn’t my first time! I fuck frequently!”

“Okay, I believe you. Still gonna take it easy on you.”

“Please dick me to death.”

“Still sad about the song contest thing, yeah?” He stroked his hair.

“I have clinical depression.”

“Want me to choke you?”

“ I have clinical depression . And daddy issues.”

“So, yes?”

“ Please .”

“I got something else you can choke on. Unless you can unhinge your jaw like a snake. That would be hot.”

“I can’t. I can devour almost a whole bottle of vodka in one go though, so… close enough?”

“So I just have to nut a vodka bottle’s worth? I can do that.”

“I mean. You don’t have to.”

“No, I’m gonna.”

“Look, I’ll try if you nut like a human being and not a fire hose.” Eduard took this incredible, magnificent penis in his hands - both, because it was thick - and gave it a lick. It was warm, and rubbery. He liked the warmth of another human being.

“C’mon,” Logan groaned, “Your dog licks better.”

“Fuck her then. No wait, don’t!” Eduard looked at the purple baton. “I’m just… out of practice. I’ll get the hang of it.”

“How out of practice?”

“Do I look like I’ve been counting the years?”

“Yes. You wear glasses. Surely it would only be one hand’s worth anyway.”

“No. And I can’t count on the other one, I’m using it for other things.”

“Jacking off til you pass out? Whilst crying?”

“Shush.”

“Take that as a yes.”

“Also drinking. But… not far off.”

“You gonna suck this dick or what?”

Eduard’s distaste for being bossed about flared up, and he wrinkled his nose. “Suck your own dic- I mean yeah.”

“We can stop if you want.”

“Fuck no.” Eduard swallowed the dick like he frequently swallowed his pride. He slowly put the whole thing in his mouth; that’s what you were supposed to do, right? It’s what the beautiful women on pornhub did. Was he supposed to fit the balls in too? Logan’s were fucking massive, so he hoped not, but maybe he should, just to be on the safe side.

“Christ, mate, let yourself breathe!”

He pulled off of him. “I’m good.”

“You’re gonna do yourself some damage.”

“You’re flattering yourself.”

“You seen this thing? I’ve earned it.”

“And I’ll suck the soul outta you.”

“So did your dad leave or just not love you?”

“I’ll bite your dick.”

“Hot.”

“How do I threaten you without you being horny about it?”

“You can’t.”

Eduard sighed and sucked his dick like it was the titty his mother denied him. Every time he made a choking sound, Logan groaned, but Ed had no gag reflex so all was well. Sometimes, he sounded like he was coughing up a hairball, but it was endearing in a way. Logan stroked his hair, and Eduard closed his eyes at the touch like a loving, affectionate cat. He tried to meet his eyes, but it felt weird so he stuck to staring at his bellybutton.

Eventually, Logan pulled his head back. “Okay, I think it’s your turn.”

“I can carry on if you want.”

He just chuckled. “Get up.”

Eduard awkwardly arranged himself on the bed, his legs a little apart. “Like this?”

“Yeah,” Logan rested his cheek on Eduard’s knee, giving him a caring smile before going down.

Eduard’s soul left his fucking body at the feeling of having his dick sucked. Logan wasn’t shy, looking him right in the eyes as he milked his little yoghurt machine. He’d clearly had practice, licking it like it was ice cream and sucking like a vacuum cleaner. If Eduard hadn’t already blown at least 40 loads into his hand during the week, he might have nutted right then and there.

He heard the clattering of claws, and a series of barks.

Logan had forgotten to close the door.

“Siiri!” cried Ed, “get out! Bad dog! Go to bed!”

Logan stopped sucking his dick, and it flopped onto Eduard’s stomach with a wet pop. Logan’s spit quickly cooled, and he didn’t like the feeling.

“Aww, let her stay.” Logan reached over and lifted her onto the bed. He fussed over the little dog, with the stupid, high-pitched voice and rubbing her belly.

“We can’t let her stay in my room! We’re doing sex!” He covered himself self-consciously, as if Siiri was judging.

“So? My dog watches me.”

“That’s just weird.” Eduard got to his feet, picked up Siiri, and bowled her gently out the door. “No watching, and go to sleep.”

Siiri barked at him.

“Yeah, yip to you too.” He shut the door and sat back down on the bed. “I think I have a condom.” He reached for his wallet; there was a condom he kept there, for miracles. It was probably older than Siiri, but its day had finally come.

The moment he took it out, it disintegrated in his hand. Miracles were hard to come by.

“That’s okay,” Logan kissed his neck, “bareback’s better.”

Eduard was going to get every STD known to man, and a few undiscovered ones too, but, at that moment, he was too horny to care. “Alright, how- how do you want me to do this?”

“Maybe…” Logan thought about it, “we start with missionary. Then we can gayly gaze into each other’s eyes.”

“A gay’s gaze.”

“Yes! Then after, maybe doggy cause then it’s like we’re mating.”

“We’re sticking to missionary.”

“Aww, you like these eyes?”

“I like not being compared to animals.” He did have nice eyes though.

Logan tenderly placed a hand to his chest and pushed him back on the bed. He held Eduard’s hand, and leaned in for a kiss. Eduard couldn’t remember the last time he’d had his hand held.

“Thank you.” His voice cracked.

Logan blinked. Was that the wrong thing to say? He didn’t comment on it, though, and focused on kissing Eduard’s neck.

“Ya got any lube?”

“I have lotion. Will that work.”

“Of course you d- yeah that works.”

Eduard reached into the bedside table for his bottle of lotion.

“This is nice stuff, for jacking-off lotion.”

“I like how vanilla smells.”

“It does smell nice,” he agreed, sniffing the bottle.

“Use some if you want.”

Logan rubbed it between his hands. “Nice. This why you so smooth?”

“Mm.”

“Like a shark.”

“Please don’t fuck a shark.”

“I won’t. Not until I’m done with you.” He spread Eduard’s legs as he spread lotion over his fingers. Eduard shuddered as Logan circled his butthole with a finger before slipping it in.

Eduard swore, but in Estonian so Logan wouldn’t know. It felt like taking a shit, but in a sexy way.

“You know sharks have two dicks?” said Logan for conversation.

“A weird thing to say when you’re fingering me.” Eduard gave a groan, and then a rattling breath as Logan added another finger. “Could you slow down, please?” he whimpered. Logan nodded and took out his second finger.

“Sure thing, mate. It’s okay.” He massaged Eduard’s shoulder as he fingered him with one finger.

“Your hands are so big,” he whined. “It feels like I’m getting a rectal exam from Jason Momoa.”

“Shit, mate, I ain’t even put me dick in yet.”

“Yeah, gonna need you to prepare me a lot more.” Eduard was having a good time, but his butthole had been so empty lately it was tighter than a nipple clamp and gathering dust.

Logan fingered him like a bowling ball, slowly opening up his tight bootyhole in a way his dad never did when he was little. A wee fucking ghost that had been forgotten there just came out of the butt, yelled “WOOOO” and flew out the window. Okay, Logan made that last part up, but his shitter was dusty af.

He lubed that asshole up like a slip n’ slide. He fingered it until it looked like a canyon in the middle of a very flat plain. When Logan spanked Ed’s cheek, it sounded hollow.

Even though Eduard had a normally deep voice, it went all high and bottom-y as he moaned from the spank. Logan raised an eyebrow.

“Shit, think ya ready?”

“I- yeah. Ready as I’ll ever be.”

Logan put his fanny batter splatterer into Eduard’s red dwarf and Eduard’s mind hit reset. It was bigger than any shit he’d ever taken, but still moved against his rectum like one. Logan put his dick halfway in, then paused.

“You okay,” he clutched Eduard’s sweaty hand.

He nodded.

“Are you crying?”

“What? No. Don’t let go of my hand though.”

Logan nodded, then stuck his wingwang in down to the balls. The balls weren’t meant to go in too, right? Eduard was sure it was about to come out of his mouth it was so big. He felt like a kebab.

He moaned from the dick and cried from the handholding, but this was the best he’d felt in months. He never wanted it to end. But knowing how long he lasted, it would all too soon. He mentally congratulated himself for lasting this long. He had been expecting to nut in the sauna, the second he undressed. Logan went slowly at first, letting him get used to the feeling, but when Eduard gave the word, he picked up the pace, hips and nuts slapping against Eduard’s arse and making the noise of someone slapping a raw chicken with a raw fish. He wondered if he’d get salmonella from Logan’s dick along with the 30 or so STDs he’d have after this. It also sounded a bit like using a toilet plunger on a turd-blocked shitter. Eduard now wished he’d hurry up and orgasm so maybe his brain would turn off for a second and he’d stop thinking stupid shit.

“You like that? You like my chunky thundermeat?”

Eduard wished he could say he didn’t. But he did. His butthole wouldn’t later, but for now he was groaning like that time he discovered autoerotic asphyxiation. And egg-mayo sandwiches.

Logan went harder. Not insanely hard, just enough to have Eduard moaning and whimpering and begging for more. His soul felt like when you hold the start button on a computer instead of shutting it down manually because it was broken. His soul was healing, becoming reanimated. Or maybe he was just really, really horny and touch-starved.

“Big,” he mumbled, trying to get words out of his mouth semi-coherently.

“Yeah? You like the big meat, then?”

“It’s lovely. Thank you.”

“No… no problem.” Logan kissed him to shut him up. Then choked him and Ed came like Jesus. Shortly after, Logan bust a chunky nut in Eduard’s bootyhole. He moaned at the moisture in his colon, and at the cold rush on his back as Logan pulled out and collapsed next to him. He arranged his duvet so that the cold air could hit his aching hole as he held onto him. Logan cuddled him gently, wrapping the rest of the duvet around them.

“Was that good? Did I do good? Tell me I did a good sex.”

“You did a great sex.” He kissed his forehead. “I’m proud of you.”

Eduard was definitely crying now. No one had ever been proud of him before. Maybe it was the alcohol, and being in the arms of a naked man, but he felt exposed. Vulnerable. Like he was about to start oversharing at any minute.

“Stay with me,” he whispered, “I want you to stay with me forever.” Well, at least he wasn’t talking about his childhood.

“I have to go in the morning, I’m afraid,” Logan mumbled, “but I’ll be back. And we have tonight.”

Eduard nodded. “Yes. Please hold me tonight.”

Logan kissed his temple, lips warm against cold sweat. “I will, baby.”

...

The sun filtered through the curtains the next morning, hurting Eduard’s eyes through his eyelids, but he couldn’t bring himself to regret drinking. He woke up in Logan’s arms, held tenderly to his chest in a way his touch-starved self had only fantasized about before.

So this was what affection felt like. He wanted more.

For the first time in his life, Eduard didn’t feel like getting up right away. He let a sleeping Logan hold him. He was so lovely and warm, like a sauna, he didn’t want him to go.

When Logan woke up, he didn’t seem to be in a rush either. He opened his eyes halfway, smiled at him, and let out a long fart. Lovely.

“Sleep well?”

Eduard nodded.

“Sorry,” Logan eventually prized himself away, “I’ll be back to spoon, but is it alright if I just give my dick a quick wash? Gotta keep it clean. Do it after every root, just to keep the infections at bay.”

Eduard nodded weakly, and Logan disappeared.

What the fuck kind of moron just nutted in him? The kind that thought tap water got rid of gonorrhoea? He’d have to be tested for everything now. And disinfect the sauna. Or just burn and rebuild it. Kill their airborne herpes, and the probable skidmarks on the wooden bench. Eduard couldn’t believe his beloved sauna now resembled some disgusting Polish sauna.

Not to mention he'd have to bulldoze the sink, shower and anything else his penis had touched. Then the toilet, judging by the distant screaming.

Logan came back, drying his cock with toilet paper. “Sorry bout that. Found out the hard - heh - way that you’re not allowed to use an airport sink to clean your junk.” He climbed back into bed and cuddled up to Eduard. The guy was so lucky he was warm and nice and had a massive dick. Eduard wouldn't have minded a round two. It wasn’t like he could get infected twice. “I’m not allowed into so many airports.”

“What time do you have to leave?” he asked, deciding he didn’t have time to unpack all of that, no matter when he had to leave.

“Not til this evening, baby,” Logan kissed the back of his neck.

“Great, we can do like a hundred sex.”

“You want me to pee in your butt all day or what?”

“Maybe do something else.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, literally anything else.”

“I mean… I could shit in your butt.”

“Please just have sex with me and don’t talk for the entire time.”

“I can do that. And after that maybe I should get home and get packed. I’m meant to leave.”

“Do you know how to get home?”

“Toldja last night. Pink house. Orange roof.”

“Do you have an address?”

“Maybe. We’ll see.”

“Feel like you should know the address of your own airbnb.”

“What are you, my dad?”

“I hope not. You wrecked my butthole last night.”

“And I’ll wreck it again today if ya want.”

“I do, we already established that.”

Logan climbed back into bed and kissed him, scrambling for the lotion. He lubed Eduard up then clapped those cheeks like white people when the plane lands. Eduard lay on his stomach, too lazy to do anything else, just enjoying this guy’s fat nuts hitting him like a wrecking ball as his ass got drilled for the second time.

He knew his neighbours could hear him - he could always hear them - but he didn’t care. Revenge time. He moaned like a hungry cat as Logan choked and kissed him, stroking his hair. Even when he was being rough, he was gentle with him. Caring. Tender. His hand was tight on his throat but his lips were gentle.

Eduard moaned as Logan ate his ass like a rack of ribs, then put the dick back in and put him in a load of different positions whilst Eduard tried not to fart. Or nut early. When he did nut, Logan wasn’t far behind. He collapsed next to him, pulling Eduard into a hug and kissing his cheek lazily. He was so warm.

“You’re pretty,” he mumbled, “you got nice eyes.”

Eduard blushed. “So do you. I’m not sure I have, though, I mean, my glasses sorta get in the way-”

Logan took them off, then stroked his fringe back. “Beautiful.”

“Blind.”

He smiled and handed his glasses back, after wiping droplets of nut off them. “Wow, you’re an amazing sniper.”

“Thanks,” he mumbled.

“One time I sniped a spider on the ceiling with my nut. Proudest moment. Glad I’d had a wank instead of bothering with kids.”

Eduard nodded, because he had no idea what to say to that. He didn’t want to leave Logan’s arms, but he needed to get up. But then the spell would be broken, and reality would set in and Logan would be gone.

“I need to shower,” he mumbled, making no attempt to move. Logan caught on.

“We can shower together.”

“But then we’ll see each other naked.”

“Ed, baby, we’ve already seen each other naked. We’re naked now.”

Eduard gasped. “Then maybe we can walk around naked and shower naked together!”

“And have a goodbye fuck in the shower. Nice and warm.”

Eduard nodded. “Nice and warm.”

...

Logan’s violet vuvuzela looked like it had been microwaved after it’s third nut in 24 hours, and Eduard’s hole looked like the Darvaza gas crater in Turkmenistan. He could barely stand up, his legs were shaking from his latest orgasm. He clung to Logan, who kissed his neck lazily. The shower still rained down on them, warming Eduard’s shoulders. Logan’s now sported tiny bruises where Eduard had clutched them, and scratches all down his back.

“I’m gonna fucking miss you,” Logan growled in his ear, huskily like Balto, “and I’m gonna miss fucking you.”

“Me too,” Eduard buried his face in his chest, trying not to cry again. He’d done his crying for the year now. “Come on, we gotta find out where you live.”

“Oh, Fabs texted me while I was on the shitter earlier,” said Logan, “they’ve got all my stuff packed and I can meet ‘em at the airport. Means we have a few hours before we gotta go there. We can do anything you want.” He played with Eduard’s nipples.

“I think we’ve been cooped up in here long enough, also my hole needs a rest. I’ll show you round the city, now you’ve sobered up.”

Logan thought about it, then nodded. “I’d like that. Be nice to go home having actually learnt something. Other than Estonians hate it when I try and talk Estonian.”

“It’s the accent. It butchers all languages.”

“To be honest, people don’t like it when I speak English either. Or any language.”

“Maybe it’s what you say, rather than how you pronounce it.”

“So are you gonna take me sightseeing or what?”

...

Eduard didn’t want him to go. He wanted Logan to stay and hold and raw him forever, but, instead, he pulled away like he didn’t pull out and left to go through security with a wave, leaving Eduard, heartbroken in the middle of the airport.

Their day together had been magical, even if everything Logan said out loud was horrendous. Sometimes, he’d even managed to make Eduard laugh. Sometimes.

But he’d asked questions, about both Eduard and Estonia, and Eduard appreciated that. He also giggled at any Estonian word that sounded vaguely rude (depoo? Really?), but Eduard could look past that. Most importantly, he’d had fun with another human being for the first time in forever.

But Logan was gone, without so much as a number.

Eduard could look him up, stalk him on every social media, but he’d be too afraid to follow him. Besides, this weekend hadn’t meant anything to Logan. He’d move on. He’d probably sleep with half the plane before it made it back to Australia. Eduard was nothing to him.

So he might as well move on.

...

The sounds of laughter filled the bar. The whole of the choir sat around a table, struggling to find empty places to put their beers down among the sea of empty pint glasses. Eduard sat with them, sipping his beer, listening politely to the conversation but not contributing a word.

One of their sopranos stood up from her seat, holding up her glass. “Congratulations to all of us! We worked really hard, and if any of the choirs performing tonight earned it, I think it was us. Who wants another round?”

Eduard cheered with the rest of them. He had won! Well. Him and the rest of them. But he’d had a solo, so technically him.

To think this time last year, he’d been at this very bar, - alone because everyone found him unbearable - drinking away his sorrows, and now he was with his whole choir, celebrating their latest win. He still thought about that night every now and then.

He took a moment out from the festivities as the choir launched into a drunken reprise of their songs to use the toilets. As nice as they were, it was nice to celebrate in his head, silently, to relish in his victory without screaming it from the rooftops. He replayed that moment, the cheers of the crowd as they were announced the winners, the nearest singer tackling him into a hug with excitement.

And then someone took the urinal next to him, rolling his jorts down to his ankles. He glanced aside bitterly, but-

Oh, shit. He’d know that meat hammer anywhere.

He almost pissed all over him tripping over his own feet, but he composed himself, zipped his jeans back up, and turned to look at him.

“Logan?”

He grinned back at him, not ceasing his piss. It was like a water cannon. “Long time, no see.”

Eduard gazed at him, not sure what he was meant to say. “Very.”

“Small world.”

“Mhmm.”

“Kidding. I was actually hoping I’d bump into you.”

“Why?”

“What?”

“I mean… why are you here, not,, that sounded self-pitying.”

He leaned on the wall seductively, still peeing. “Well, you know, I read somewhere there’s this legendary song festival going on. Thought I’d check it out.”

Eduard grinned. “Oh, yeah. Heard that’s good.”

“And there was this guy on one of the choirs who had… well, in my opinion, at least, the guy had the voice of an angel. He looked kinda familiar, too. Couldn’t quite place him.” Logan flicked twice for Jesus and put his dick back in his pants.

“How did he do in the competition?”

Logan tilted his head at him, glancing between Eduard’s eyes and lips. “I think his choir won, actually. They’re in some bar now, belting out folk songs.”

Eduard laughed. “Yeah, they were good, weren’t they?”

“They were amazing.”

“Did you… come all the way to Estonia to see me perform?”

Logan scratched the back of his head. “Well, it’s a nice country. I sort of saw all the sights in one morning last time I was here, and… well. I guess the men here really are something.”

“Is that a yes?”

“Maybe.”

“You think I’m a good singer?”

“You won, didn’t you?”

“I guess we did.”

“Actually, there’s another reason I went to Estonia.”

“Mm?”

“Well, there was this really nice little sauna. Really relaxing. I used it on my last night there. Really sweated me out good. I was wondering if I could have another go in it. Just for a bit?”

“You inviting yourself over?”

“Uh-”

“Into my sauna , no less? You realise that’s like… Estonian equivalent of asking if you can rob someone’s house?”

“Sorry.”

Eduard laughed at him. “I’m kidding. Come on, let’s get home.”

#ozest #APH Australia #APH Estonia #hetalia #Hetalia fic #APH Seychelles #APH New Zealand #aph cameroon #tikolanesla #this is the stupidest thing written #oneshot #hetalia estonia #hetalia australia #aph #Hetalia Fanfiction

[gray-autumn-sky]

Laws of Attraction Sneak Peek

Robin, Regina and Mal go on date to jazz club.

Mal felt like she was floating.

It’d been two weeks since she was able to see them--two long and almost physically painful weeks of fundraisers and charity events where she’d had to grit her teeth and smile as Stefan told dull story after dull story to their fathers’ rich friends and possible donors. She wasn’t even sure what the parties were for--she’d been told, but she hadn’t listened past that it was something to do with the war effort--and she resented the momentary stalling of her freedom.

But then, things went back to normal and she went back to being ignored.

She made an excuse about spending a couple of days visiting a friend going through a break up, and her father offered little more than a huff as he nodded and told her to have fun. He didn’t ask the details and she was glad for it, and when she told Stefan she’d be leaving for a few days, his relief over being rid of her for awhile was almost palpable.

On her first night with them, Robin begrudgingly agreed to fill in for Graham in a trivia contest at a local bar. Regina pouted about already being in her pajamas, but they’d both gotten dressed and gone with him. It hadn’t been an eventful night, but she and Regina sat at the bar, talking and drinking, munching on pretzels and beer nuts. It amazed her sometimes how easy it was to just be with Regina--and with Robin, and the combination of the two--and that no matter how long they spent apart or how much time they spent together, it was never awkward or uncomfortable, and she never tired of it.

And it’d be something she one day missed--and something she hoped she could return to from time to time.

Robin had taken them by surprise, bounding toward them and clearly drunk, as he announced that his team had won. She and Regina both smiled and laughed as they told him they were glad. His eyes had widened with excitement as he pulled three tickets from his pocket, exclaiming that they were all theirs. He offered them an exasperated little sigh when it became obvious that neither she nor Regina shared in his excitement, and he’d drawn in a short breath before launching into an explanation, explaining that the trivia team had won tickets to a jazz cover band that was playing a couple of towns over, but he was only one who didn’t already have plans for the following weekend, so they’d given all three tickets to them.

Excitedly, he’d handed them over to Regina, and Mal leaned over to peek at them, cooing about how much she loved jazz. Regina agreed, confirming they didn't have any reason they couldn’t go--and that had been that, it’d all been settled.

They’d spent most of the next evening getting themselves ready. Regina wore a tightly fitted black dress with a gray stitching around the hem of the skirt that complemented the gray buttons down the back and the gray cuffs just above her elbows. Earlier that day while Robin and Regina were running errands, she’d popped into a little boutique and found a raspberry-colored dress that hugged her hips and showed off her long legs. The short sleeves were loose and made of lace and the back dipped down scandalously low, and as she’d been reached for a beaded black clip for her hair, a raspberry and black striped tie caught her eye--and that was the tie that Robin was wearing that night. She and Regina paired it with his black wool suit and Robin chose to forgo the jacket, wearing only the vest over his shirt. She’d grinned as she pinned up her hair, watching as Regina tied Robin’s tie, pecking his lips quickly as she patted his chest when she’d finished--and as they both sat on the edge of the bed, waiting for her to finish getting ready, she felt her excitement beginning to bubble.  She could hardly contain her excitement at actually going out with them, and she prayed that it wouldn’t be something they later regretted.  

But when they got to the jazz club, her worries all but faded. Within minutes they noticed two women sitting at the bar. One of them was talking and the other was listening intently, holding her drink in one hand and rubbing her fingers up and down the other woman’s forearm, smiling adoringly at her.

She’d felt a bit brazen as she reached for Regina’s hand, and she couldn’t help but smile as Regina’s finger’s curled down around hers. Robin’s hand pressed at the small of her back as he guided them to their table, and she bit down on her lip as she looked around, laughing softly to herself as she realized that no one was paying them any attention.

Couples were cuddled up in the booths and slow dancing on the floor as a record played overhead; people flirted at the bar, sipping their drinks and smoking their cigarettes, and a group of college-aged kids danced together at the side of the stage. She couldn’t quite tell if they were dancing by themselves or in a group, and it didn’t matter--what mattered is she could likely get away with being affectionate with both Robin and Regina, and no one would notice or care. They’d blend in, and for once, she’d feel normal.

“This is nice,” she murmurs, looking between them as they settle into their chairs. “I’ve never been here.”

“I’ve passed by it a few times,” Regina admits. “I never thought to go in.”

Robin shakes his head. “It’s no Billie Holiday, but--”

“The company is much better this time around,” she says, cutting in and offering him a wink.

“I don’t know what it is you two are talking about,” Regina says as she plucks the drink menu up from the table and looks to Mal. “But I agree.”

A waiter came by and they ordered their drinks--three martinis, hers with extra olives--and she told the quick version of the story she’d told Robin about Stefan taking her to see Billie Holiday at a club in Harlem as they waited. Regina empathized with being left alone and slid her hand over hers, her engagement ring clearly visible, and when the waiter returned with their drinks, he didn’t bat an eye.

And once again, she felt emboldened--they never got to be like this.

When the band was announced the lights dimmed even lower and the room had a romantic sensuous feel to it. She watched as couples slowly leave their seats to slow dance together and after a second drink, she found herself looking between them, biting down on her lip.

“I want to dance,” she said, holding her breath as they both turned to look at her. “Who wants to dance with me?”

“I think I want to see you two dance,” Robin says, cocking his brow as he looking between them. “I’ll stay here and guard the drinks.”

Regina nodded and she sighed a little, pouting a little as she looked to him. She wanted both of them. “You won’t come, too?”

Regina’s brows arched as though the thought hadn’t quite occurred to her, but she could tell by the way a grin slowly tugged up at the corners of her mouth that she liked the idea.

“In a little bit,” he says, his voice slow and tentative.

“Really?”

“Really!”

Shaking her head, she slid out of her chair. “Something tells me you’re just putting me off.”

“I’m not. We’ll dance after… the next five or so songs.” He grins as he lifts his empty glass. “After I drink up a bit more courage.”

“He’s… not a dancer.”

“No?” She asks, genuinely surprise. “We’ve danced.”

“In our living room,” he nods. “We did.”

Regina grins looking between them and her own breath caught at our. “When did you two dance in the living room?”

“When you were in Connecticut,” Robin supplies. “And after I’d had at least three glasses of wine.”

“It was four,” Mal tells her.

“See?”

Regina’s arm slips around her waist and she presses her cheek to her arm. She can’t help but smile at her as her stomach flutters and a resigned sigh escapes her. “Alright,” she concedes. “But don’t think you’re getting out of this.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Yes he would,” Regina laughs, her hand rubbing at the small of her back. “Don’t take it personally. When my cousin, Mary, got married, getting him out onto the dance floor was like pulling teeth.”

“I did it though.”

Regina’s eyes roll before shifting from Robin to Mal. “Two dances,” she says flatly. “I got two whole dances out of him at the very end of the night.”

“It’s better than none.”

At that, Regina’s eyes go wide and Mal laughs, shaking her head. “Well, if I get one, I’ll be happy,” she admits.

“As long as that one is with both of you.”

“Both--”

“At once--”

“Yes!” She exclaims, nodding as she brandishes her hand out at the dance floor. “I mean, look. No one will notice us. We’ll blend in.”

“But--”

“I’ve been watching,” she cuts in. “No one is going to care that the three of us are dancing together.” Sighing, she softens. “And it’s so hard to do things all together. It’d  be nice to just… have one night where we don’t have to hide or pretend that I’m some sort of awkward third wheel.”

Oh.

She hadn’t meant that to sound as heavy as it had. She only meant to tease, but their fall and she feels her own excitement drop.

“I didn’t mean to imply--” She stops as Regina hugs her into her side and she can see Robin’s resolve diminishing--likely out of guilt--and she feels a sharp twinge of regret at her core. She hadn’t meant for that to sound the way that it did. She hadn’t meant to imply that they didn’t care for her. She hadn’t meant that at all. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have--”

“Don’t apologize,” he murmurs as a lopsided little grin tugs up at the corner of his mouth. “I promise. A couple more drinks and I’ll join you.”

“Now I feel like I’ve guil--”

“No,” he cuts in. “I just need a bit more liquid courage before I make a fool out of myself.”

“It’s true,” Regina insists, squeezing her closer. “You’re not a third wheel. You’ve never been that.” She sighs and looks between them--and before she can let herself feel like she’s completely spoiled the mood of the evening, Regina leans in. “Come on, let's go out there give him a little show.”

At that, her brow arches up and Robin smiles as he settles back, clearly liking that idea.

She laughs a bit as Regina takes a couple of steps back. Her hand forms around hers and she gives her a little tug, tugging her toward the dance floor.

“I really didn’t--”

“I know,” Regina says before she can finish. “And so does he.”

“I just--” She sighs, shaking her head, wishing she hadn’t said what she did. “I didn’t mean to make this a heavy moment. We’re out having fun and--.”

“You’re not allowed to say that you spoiled it because you didn’t. I don’t think that.. Robin doesn’t think that, and you shouldn’t think that.”

“Even if--”

“You didn’t.”

She nods, grinning a little as they reached the edge of the dance floor. “It’s just… hard sometimes.”

“I know.”

“For the last two weeks, I’ve felt like I was cheating.”

Regina blinks. “What do you mean?”

“Being with Stefan so much. I… I felt like I was cheating.”

“On me and Robin?”

Mal nods and a soft, but uncomfortable chuckle escapes her. “How’s that for irony?”

“Mal,” Regina says, looking up at her a slow smile edges onto her lips and her arm slips around her waist. “You need to cut yourself some slack.” Drawing in a breath, she nods--and maybe Regina’s right, maybe she does. “Stop beating yourself up over a non-issue.”

“Maybe--”

“I won’t deny that both Robin and I wish you could spend more time with us, but I feel like no matter how much time we had with you, it’d never be enough.” Her fingers knead at her hip, and she’s looking at her so sweetly and with so much love that it nearly hurts. “And I hate that we have to watch every single move we make. It’s not fair, but as you pointed out, tonight isn’t one of those nights.”

“I--”

“I swear to god,” Regina cuts in. “If you apologize--”

“I’m not,” Mal says as a soft chuckle rises into her voice. “I was just going to tell you that you’re right.”

“Oh, well, I usually am, but--”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.” She takes was Regian draws in a breath and then leans up onto her toes, pressing a quick, fleeting kiss to her lips. “And I really want to dance with you right now,” she says, her smile growing a bit coy. “After all, we did promise Robin a little show.”

“And I can’t imagine that us standing here, talking is very exciting.”

“It might make him a bit curious.”

“Not quite what I intended.”

“So, let’s then.”

Mal nods, and takes a step in, closing the gap between them. Their arms fold around each and she rests her head atop Regina’s, closing her eyes and breathing her in. She feels her insecurities and worry once more beginning to fade as they sway together to the soft, soothing jazz music; and, finally, when her eyes flutter open, she can’t help but notice that no one is looking at them--well, no one except Robin.

She offers him a little grin as she lifts her head, straightening her herself up as her eyes slide back to Regina. She takes a half step back and her hands slide down her arms, her fingers forming around her hands, as she takes a hard step in, shimming her hips as she does. Regina giggles a little and follows her lead, taking two steps back and then a step forward, her shoulders mimicking her feet, as they move to the rhythm of the song.

Reluctantly, she lets her go, laughing as Regina’s brow arches. She steps around her so they’re standing back-to-back. Regina’s hips are still moving and she’s looking back at her from over her shoulder, and a grin pulls onto her lips as her eyes meet Robins, watching as he watches her shimmy downward, her body rubbing against Regina’s backside. She laughs a little as Robin sips a nearly-gone martini as he smiles over the rim of the glass. She offers him a quick wink before breaking his gaze, reaching for Regina’s and grinning as Regina once again looks back at her from over her shoulder as her finger curls down around hers.

Mal steps back around her and tugs her up against herself. The music slows and grins as Regina bites down on her lip--her lips suddenly looking so full and soft, and without hesitation, she leans in and kisses her.

Regina’s tongue parts her lips, sliding against hers and she breathes her in, kissing her back as if they weren’t surrounded and on display. Her hand slips over Regina’s hip as Regina’s foot comes up, wrapping around her calf and pulling her closer and deeper into the kiss.

She’s vaguely aware that the song had ended and she feels a bit dizzy when a firm hand presses to her back, and before she can even process what that means, warm lips press to her neck as the smell of pine consumes her senses.

“I didn’t know this is what dancing meant,” Robin murmurs, his breath tickling her skin.

Regina breaks the kiss, her lips hovering for just a moment as her grin forms and her eyes shift to Robin. “You know that now that you’re here, we’re not letting you go.”

He laughs and reaches for her hand, stepping around Mal as his arm stretches around Regina’s waist--and then, he reaches for her hand. Mal grins as she takes it and her heart flutters as Robin’s smile brightens, his eyes sparkling, even in the dim light.

“Well, ladies,” he says, looking between them as a new song begins. “What do you say? Can I have this dance?”

#doq #dragon outlaw queen #doq fic #laws of attraction #sneak peak #robin hood #regina mills #Maleficent

[xuhoon]

how you met: Mingyu

it’s been a few days i know but thank you for your patience!! this one was really fun to write, thank you @1of1woo for the cute idea :)

fluff, golfer mingyu, i really really want this to be real lmao, 1752 words

It was the first day as members of your local country club. You’d dressed up a little bit to cater towards the new atmosphere.

Your parents are new to the country club, they wanted to have some sort of community feel and their finances were stable and well off this year, so they thought hey, why not.

No one needs to know that you played golf in high school and are pretty good at it, not yet at least.

You were pretty shy, and it wasn’t easy to spot anyone your age.

You clung to your mom as she and your dad introduced themselves and got acquainted with some of the members

“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Hong, this is Y/n.” Your mom had no issues showing you off

“Oh, aren’t you darling, my son Joshua is out with his friends for their weekly game of golf! They should be back shortly so you can meet some kids your age.”

The word “kid” kind of caught you off guard, hoping that you looked like a college student… and that “Joshua and his friends” are high school graduates.

Thankfully they were, as four good-looking guys in polos and crisp slacks come sauntering over with those special towels around their necks that when you get wet keep you cool for an extended amount of time. You learned that Joshua, Mingyu, Wonwoo, and Jun were best golf buddies. He and the boys play together on Saturday’s.

So, like, background, you know golf. You’ve been playing for two years. It’s not a new thing to you.

But when the boys came over to you it was like you had just seen a ghost… but a hot ghost. You suddenly didn’t know how to play golf anymore.

Joshua came up to his mother and announced they were back from his victory.

The other three boys laughed and shrugged it off. Joshua was training to be a professional and was competing in national championships for his college team.

“Joshua honey, I would like you to meet the Y/l/n’s. This is Y/n, she’s around your age.”

“It’s nice to meet you, are you new around here?”

“Yes, this is our first day as members. I’m 21, by the way.”

“Oh, you’re Mingyu’s age!”

A cute little shocked face accompanied the both of you as you shook hands.

“I’m 23 and Jun,” the boy with copper hair flashed a warm smile and a wave, “and Wonwoo,” who seemed a little distant and did that white people thing where they make eye contact as they walk past each other with that forced smile and nod, “they’re 22.”

“It’s nice to meet all of you,” you said a little hesitantly.

“Oh, don’t worry, Wonwoo doesn’t bite. He takes a little bit to warm up to, isn’t that right bud?”

“Josh, don’t call me bud. I’m only affectionate with Jun.”

“Awe babe!” You safely guess that those two may be dating… They kissed, okay, they’re dating.

Mingyu approached you nervously, “Hey, we were about to get lunch… Do you want to join us?”

Before you could say yes, your mom shoved you into Mingyu a little too hard as her way of saying ‘go with them’.

There was a round table for five close to the restaurant, so you all sat down while discussing what to get. Josh went to order for everyone.

“So, Y/n, do you know how to play golf?” Jun asks.

“Babe, she’s at a country club,” Wonwoo interjected.

“She may not know how to play!”

“Why don’t we set up a time for Mingyu to teach her?”

Mingyu blushed, “Why don’t one of you teach her?”

“What, you don’t want to teach her golf?” Jun looked half offended as he stressed that last word.

“I never said that! I was just wondering why you two don’t want to.”

“It’s not that we don’t want to, it’s that we don’t have the ability to focus on other people for that long.”

“Jun, that sounds really shallow, but I know you’re being cute.” Wonwoo took Jun’s hands in his.

“Ahem,” you spoke up, “I actually kind of already know—”

“Joshua’s back with food!”

You sat in silence as the other boys were sorting the food when Mingyu tapped your shoulder, “I’ll teach you if you want, I don’t mind. Plus, a little time away from the boys isn’t so bad, right?”

A little while later, after finally getting a word in with the boys, you had a really nice talk. Jun and Wonwoo were surprisingly affectionate in front of you, they told you the story of how they got into a tickle fight and fell into the water hazards.

Mingyu kept stealing glances at you as you listened to the story contently, but you saw him.

Mingyu’s laugh was so animated, his toothy grin showing off his canines, you couldn’t help but laugh with him. When he heard your soft giggles, it was like all other sounds faded away. The whole table went silent as the boys stared at him.

Once he came to, he stumbled over his words trying to come up with an excuse. Joshua got up to throw away some trash and patted him on the shoulder.

“Oh, Y/n, you should join us for a small game after lunch, are you down?” Jun practically climbed onto the table he was so excited.

“Ah, sure! But, I don’t have my own equipment.”

“We said we would teach you, right?” Mingyu stepped closer to you, and you noticed the height difference clearly now. He towered over you.

There still wasn’t a chance to tell them that your high school team got second place last year. You decided to play along for now, hoping that you would shock them with your skillset. No, you weren’t a champion, but you still knew your way around a golf club.

The boys got up and guided you towards the golf cart where they had left their bags.

“Hey, Josh, maybe we should start with the driving range? She’s a newbie.”

“Actually, Mingyu, that’s a great idea. Hop on!” Josh stepped on it, whirling through the country club.

When you got to the range, the boys set up in different spots and you stayed with Mingyu. He was nervous, but it was more to be able to impress you than messing up. You waited patiently for the right moment to enact your secret plan.

Mingyu took a few practice swings and you had to admit, his form was perfect. Each swing he took was better than the last. You watched Josh and Jun as well, and these boys do not mess around. Wonwoo, who just got back from getting more golf balls, handed you a little basket.

“Hey, I just wanted to tell you that Mingyu is too chicken to say you’re pretty or anything but he’s trying his absolute best to impress you right now. And I know he can hear me because he’s as red as your skirt.”

Wonwoo walked back over to Jun’s spot and kissed him before turning back around to send you finger guns.

You turned back to the red noodle known as Mingyu as he motioned for you to come closer. He helped you “learn” proper posture and the motions of swinging before handing you a 7 iron. Mingyu called the other boys over to see your position, and you used this time to quickly grab a ball and tee up. Before Mingyu could process what was about to happen, you swung straight into the ball, sending it flying across the range. Needless to say, your plan had worked perfectly. Jaws had dropped to the floor.

“Who’s impressed now?” You smirked at the boys.

“Y/n, you can play?” Wonwoo laughed at himself for the little speech he made.

“None of y’all would let me explain that I’ve been playing for two years or that my team got silver in the league last year.”

“She’s sassy, I like her. She’ll be a nice addition to the group,” Jun admits.

“And have me be the only single one? That’s no fair!” Joshua jokingly added.

“Well, damn, I wanted to be the one to impress you enough to ask you out for a date, but I’ve been outshined.”

“It was really sweet of you to offer to teach me, and I still would love that. I’m nowhere near your level of talent. Any of you! Watching your swings… You four are amazing.�� You stepped closer to Mingyu, going up to his chest, “I’d love to go on a date with you, Mingyu.”

“What was that? I can’t see you.”

You playfully hit his chest and he pulled you into a big hug, swooping you off the ground. He lifted you up like the Lion King and spun you around. His smile was from ear to ear with stars in his eyes.

“Mingyu, put her down, her skirt is flying.” Wonwoo covered Jun’s eyes.

“I’m wearing shorts!”

“Yeah, yeah, I don’t want Jun to see your butt.”

“He won’t see her butt, Wonwoo, I’ve already put her down. Uncover his eyes please.”

“Jun can only have eyes for me,” Wonwoo hmphed. Jun made no protest to any of this happening.

“Aren’t we going to celebrate the fact that Mingyu got a date with his high school crush?”

“Josh, what?” You looked at him in disbelief.

“Oh yeah, you went to high school with Mingyu, but you weren’t ever in the same classes, so he just admired you from afar.

“YOU’RE KIM MINGYU?”

“I knew you didn’t recognize me, we weren’t close in school. And I may have grown up a lot…”

“But you transferred senior year, I thought I would never see you again. Wow, you have grown up a lot. I mean, you’ve always been tall, but you’re so handsome now!”

“What, like I wasn’t before?”

“Baby cute and handsome are wildly different, Kim Mingyu, and you’re gorgeous. I should shut up.”

“You’re just as gorgeous as I remember. How about that dinner date? We have a lot to catch up on,” Mingyu smiled as you took his outstretched arm.

“Hey, you can’t leave yet,” Josh stopped you both, “You need to finish these balls and clean up afterward. Why don’t you start your first lesson instead?”

“Sounds good to me, how about you, Y/n?”

“I think I’ve forgotten proper posture, Professor Mingyu, can you help me?” Mingyu blushed at your flirty tone, guiding you into a perfect swing.

#svteennet #seventeen #seventeen writing #seventeen fluff #seventeen scenarios #seventeen scenario #seventeen mingyu #mingyu #kim mingyu #mingyu fluff #mingyu imagine #mingyu writing #mingyu scenario #seventeen imagine

[avengershumanresources]

Dust to Dust (12)

Summary: Where did Hydra come from? An idea? A twisted dream? For an organization that spans centuries, it kept relatively quiet until contemporary times.The Super Soldier serum wasn’t dreamt up over night, but was the product of numerous experiments both unethical and violent over the course of the century. It was going to be the end of all conflicts between good and evil. Scientists died trying to determine the next level of the serum, only for it to be stolen by enemies. Back and forth until one side had the advantage.

Mabel Foster was everything the ideal woman should be in 1914. She was well brought-up, wealthy, educated and the heiress to a large fortune. When her father died in a much publicized U-boat attack by the Germans, Mabel made a decision that changed the course of history by enlisting in the French Army during WWI.

After an ambush gone bad, Mabel found herself captured by an early group of Hydra.100 years later she’s discovered in a desolate Hydra base and is taken by the Avengers for safe-keeping and questioning. Little do they realize that all of their destinies and pasts are directly connected through the nest that Hydra weaved.

Pairing: Bucky x OFC (Original Female Character)

Rating/Warnings: Mature- Graphic violence, torture, PTSD, smut

“No, I’ll stand my ground.  Won’t get turned around.  

And I’ll keep this world from draggin’ me down,

but I’ll stand my ground and I won’t back down.”

-Tom Petty (Won't Back Down)

Before she met Joseph Rogers, Mabel spent a lot of time with a French soldier named Jacob.  

He’d sat next to her on the train when they’d departed from Paris in 1914, rambling on about being a hero and ending the war before the next winter. 

Mabel had sat quietly and listened, still trying to assume the personage of Pierre Garnier before they reached the camps and nervously fidgeting with the coat Marie had given her .  

Jacob had lost a lot of friends in the field.  Mabel thought that was his downfall.  She reasoned that the less people one grew close to, the less likely the hurt will be when they inevitably die.  

She brought this up in the mess a few months after they’d gone to the line and Jacob laughed, nearly choking on his dinner.  

“What’s so funny about that?” she’d asked him, taking a sip of the red wine a local priest had given the small unit as a gift.  

“It’s so dour,” he’d explained.  “Everyone dies in the end.  Whether you’re 100 or 10, you’re going to die.  Do you not make friends in your childhood or throughout life?”

She took a bite out of a piece of bread in lieu of answering the question.  Her mind drifted to Marie and the real Pierre, two friends who’d risked a lot to let her go on this suicide mission.

There was no doubt they’d worry, no doubt they’d fear for her safety between letters and photographs…

“You’re something else, Garnier,” Jacob had patted her shoulder and took another swig of wine.  “Perhaps that cold attitude will end up saving us all.”

The French news was playing when Mabel walked into the common area a day before she was supposed to leave for the city.

“...the French government has ordered a mandatory evacuation of the city center and the areas outlined in red, those in yellow zones should be prepared for evacuation if the order comes.”  

She plucked an apple off of a nearby table and hovered behind the sofa, watching the screen intently with Tony and Sam.  

“Another attack?” she questioned, earning an affirmative grunt from Sam.  

“So far, no one is taking credit for the attack.  Authorities have begun a list of suspected groups and will be reaching out to the UN and the Avengers for feedback as soon as possible.”

The image cut away from a female reporter to a burning building at the center of the city.  

“Musee d’historie de la medecine,” she realized out loud, recognizing the familiar structure of the small building from her history catch-up readings.  

“Have you been there?” Tony’s gaze flickered in her direction and she shook her head.

“I read about it,” she replied with a shake of her head.  “It was made after the war.  1920s, I believe?  It’s not a very popular tourist destination…”

She trailed off, watching the flames in the video lick up the sides of the university building where the small museum was located.  

“It does seem like a very specific attack,” Sam agreed.  “Was there anything controversial or new moved in recently?”

Tony perked up.

“FRIDAY?”

“I’m on it, boss.”

“We still moving to the city?” Sam questioned with a glance in Mabel’s direction and Tony nodded.

“I think we might need to leave today,” he replied, his phone giving a buzz.  “Like, in an hour or so.”

“Think you can move that quickly?” Sam asked the petite blonde and she smiled.

“I believe I can handle it,” she replied, taking the last bite out of her apple and turning on her heel to her room.

Mabel was elated that she was still able to accompany the duo to the city.   She hadn't heard from anyone aside from Tony and Sam for the last few days and she was growing stir crazy.  

She had only one suitcase with a few changes of clothes and a neatly bound book of photographs and letters.  Sam had offered to help her organize her box of memories when he saw the pile on her bed one afternoon.  

Mabel had never been one for material things.  Though before she zipped her bag, she carefully tucked Steve's letters, her watch, and the red scarf neatly in the top of the bag.

Tony mentioned that he'd take care of weapons and pretty much anything else aside from personal belongings.  Mabel thought she was packing fairly heavily, having only used a small bag for food and survival supplies during her years in the field.  

“That's it?” Sam asked when she arrived at the jet an hour later, he raised his brows to his hairline in shock.  She looked at the large duffle he held over his shoulder and shrugged at her tiny suitcase.  

“I have the essentials,” she replied lightly, following him onto the plane and looking around with wide eyes.  

She was, admittedly, wary about the short jet ride to the city.  Sam had given her a few exercises to work through the anxiety and Tony assured her that the jet was significantly safer than commercial planes.

“Early images from the Paris attack are coming in,” Tony announced, climbing onto the plane and holding up a hand.  A holographic screen appeared in front of the trio, revealing a group of masked figures breaking into the museum and igniting the fire.  “The flames just cleared up.  One casualty, a security guard who was trapped.  They're doing an inventory now.”

Mabel swallowed at the image of the young security guard that flickered across the screen.  He didn't look much older than some of the boys she'd commanded.  Such a pointless death during peacetime.  

“Do they think it's connected to the November attack?” Sam questioned, earning a sigh from Tony.  The entire jet seemed to move to life while the pair talked over the details.  The back of the jet sealed up, the engine hummed to life, and the familiar voice of FRIDAY chimed through the speakers.  

Mabel didn't even feel the jet lift from the hanger into the air.  

“Sir, I found something you might be interested in.”  FRIDAY's voice pulled Mabel back into the conversation.  The screen lit up again, revealing an inventory log from the small museum.

“World War 1 research had been sent there to be analyzed and authenticated three days ago.  From the museum files it looks like it contained multiple medical and scientific records compiled by a Dr. Friedrich Krauss.”

Tony's brows shot up and Mabel could feel the pairs eyes bore into her back.  The name seemed familiar.  It was just in the depths of her mind, a face she could almost see, a voice she could almost hear.  

“Mae,” Tony's voice was low.  “Do you know anything about Dr. Krauss?”

The blonde swallowed.  Sam and Tony seemed to know something she didn't.  It was written all over their faces.  What ached the most, however, was that she couldn't pull the information they needed to confirm whatever it was they knew.  She shook her head.  

“FRIDAY, what were the dates of the reports?” Tony questioned the AI, leaning back into his chair and watching the screen light up with scanned files.  

“Looks like they were clustered by year,1917-1922.  There were more years according to an achieve note but that was the bulk of it for the Paris museum.”

“Why don't you find out where the rest of the information is located, for funsies?”

“Already on it, boss.”

Tony grabbed a tablet off of the wall panel and began poking at the screen. The cabin was tense, Sam avoided eye contact while Tony knotted his brows in silent concentration.

“All right Foster, remember that game we were playing where you filled in information that was redacted?” He passed her the tablet and she could feel her cheeks flush at the mission report on the screen.  “This is the final level.  Boss fight.  Tell me a little bit about what happened August 11th, 1918?”

Her fingers froze on the glass surface of the tablet.  That had been the mission.  The mission to end it all and wrap up the war against the Germans nice and tidy.  

She hesitated for words before Tony spoke up again.  

“I'll make it easy for you,” he paused in thought before nodding to himself.  “Your team had been sent to retrieve something.  What was it?”

She frowned at an intrusive memory.  The schematics that Joseph had managed to bring back before dying.  The machine that killed thousands in a single heartbeat.  

“A death machine,” she answered, her voice cracking through the memories.  “The Germans had taken powerful scientific minds from around the world.  They rallied around this… cult that had remained fairly quiet during the war.  You know the cult today as Hydra.”

Sam stilled, listening to the woman talk.  They'd touched on Hydra from time to time, but everyone had been to nervous to touch the topic of how she'd ended up in the monster's hands in the first place.  She continued, her eyes flickering across the blacked out words on the screen.

“I had a four man team,” she recalled.  Marsh, Meyer, Thomas, and herself.  “I was the sniper and lead on the mission.  I handled the security forces while those three attacked from two different sides.   The enemy was supposed to be moving into the building we ambushed, so their numbers were reported to be low.”  She frowned at the lettering on the paperwork that confirmed the mission as a failure.  All four men had been reported deceased.

“They knew you were coming,” Tony mumbled, his fingers toying with his goatee while he continued listening in interest.  

“It all happened at once,” Mabel could still hear Meyer’s shouts in the back of her mind.  “They had stronger weapons, more men.   We had been a small reconnaissance team and were utterly unprepared for the ambush.  I jumped into the fray and got into the compound with Marsh.  I was so close to completing the mission.  I had to detonate a single bomb.  I'd already killed off their primary leaders…”

One bomb.  She needed to get it to the east side of the base, no matter the cost.  Mabel had been so close until she'd been caught.  

When the end of the gun had hit her head, her last thought echoed a prayer.  In that moment she was certain she was dying.  

And yet-

“What was it you were supposed to destroy?” Sam pressed.  His knuckles were white from squeezing his hands together.  

“Picture an atomic bomb,” Mabel tried to keep her voice level.  She held her hands up and mimicked the shape of the mushroom cloud.  “It irradiates, it attacks, and it destroys.  Now, imagine a weapon of similar capabilities that is detonated with no warning.  There's no mushroom cloud.  No time to run or cover.  With this weapon, they were able to potentially wipe out cities in seconds with no trace of the weapon itself.  Just the ruins it left behind.”

“How?” Tony demanded, his fingers pulling his holoscreen in front of him.

“I'm not a scientist,” she confessed.  “It was explained as a type of sound wave.  The Germans believed they had gotten their hands on a material of the heavens .  We called it ‘The Ark’.  They called it something that roughly translated to Peacekeeper.”

“Like the Ark of the Covenant,” Sam looked to Tony who let out a snort.  “Open the box and end all the wars?  You've read the Bible haven't you?”

“I saw Indiana Jones,” Tony replied.  “And even if that was fiction, something that powerful in the hands of some future terrorists is a bad combo.  Any idea what happened with it?”

Mabel shook her head and passed the tablet back to the billionaire.

“They captured me shortly after,” she replied. “I didn't see the light of day until the 1950s, at least that I remember.”

The group fell into a contemplative silence after that.  FRIDAY reported they were about thirty minutes from the city and Mabel could feel her shoulders tense at what was to come.

Bucky and Steve got the report that the others would be joining them while they'd been scouting a Hydra cell in Harlem. It was right before an explosion blew them and their small squad of SHIELD agents into the middle of the road.

The team had been swamped the last couple of weeks.  After months of silence, it seemed like the terror group was having a type of renaissance.  They had new weapons, new members and murmurs suggested a new leader had taken control.  

The team was trying their best to keep it all together but with random attacks throughout the city and now the world… it was becoming a bit of a mess.  

The backup was more than appreciated.  

After Tony’s call and the disaster of an intel mission, the super soldiers had returned to the Tower.   They were a little worse for wear from the mission, their clothes lightly singed while they made their way to the debriefing room.

“God, I'm gone for a week and you two nearly get yourselves killed,” Tony entered the meeting room where the pair was being debriefed by Natasha.  

“They had twice the numbers we'd estimated,” Bucky scowled, leaning back in his chair and huffing a sigh.  “Barely got a few good hits in before Stevie called us back.”

“They ignited the safe house like it was nothing,” Steve explained.  His hand were clasped in front of him on the table.  He knew he'd made the right call to abort the mission, it just bugged him that Hydra had gotten the jump on them.  They should have had the upper hand with the intel they’d been given.

“Sounds similar to what I'm hearing in Paris,” Tony “tsk’d” under his breath and dropped down next to Barnes to listen to the rest of the debriefing.  

“We found two more safe houses on the Eastern Seaboard with what information you two managed to get from them,” Natasha pointed to a screen over her shoulder.  “We can dispatch teams to both, or wait until we have to intervene.  Are we planning a response for Paris?”

Tony sat up, realizing the question had been directed toward both him and Steve.  

“You have the information,” Steve gestured for the brunette to take the lead.  Tony swiped a hand from his tablet upward, pulling the Paris attack images onto the screen.  

“We have tentative images coming in from the security cams and civilians.  Whoever it was, they were ballsy.  The museum was set to open roughly an hour after the attack,” he zoomed in on a bulky man in armor.  “Now I don't want to jump to conclusions, so I'll let you all simmer on this figure.”

The man in the video looked directly at the camera for an instant, his disfigured face making a small smirk before the image cut out.  

“That's Crossbones,” Steve's expression shifted from interest to fury.

“I thought he died before the Accords?” Bucky shot a look around the table.  “Or did he not?”

Natasha swallowed and spoke up.  

“We never found a body,” she muttered, a sidelong look in Steve's direction.  “There were survivors of the blast, so it's possible…”

“Or a copycat,” Steve announced firmly.  Bucky knew that the events in Lagos had weighed heavily on his friend’s conscious.  It'd all been an accident.  Hell, from what Bucky had seen of the footage, if Wanda hadn't intervened, there would have a much higher casualty count.  

“Regardless,” Tony passed around a few bound packets of paper to the trio.  Bucky's attention immediately drifted to a familiar name on the document: Hydra.  “These are some of the documents they may have gotten their hands on in the vault.”

“Dr. Krauss?” Steve eyed Tony before sending a concerned glance in Bucky's direction.  The paperwork outlined some of the doctors work post-World War 1.  It was gruesome, disgusting and exactly what Bucky expected a Hydra scientist to be involved in.  

What Bucky didn't expect was the sinking feeling in his stomach or the shaking of his hand from pure rage.  He hadn't realized that what had happened to him had been standard procedure by the time he'd come around.  By the second page, the doctor had outlined his final patient; a female, roughly 26 years of age, blonde hair, and hazel eyes.  

He could have smashed a fist through the table.  

“Buck?” Steve broke the former assassins concentration.  Bucky looked up, his eyes wild at the trio of faces watching him carefully.  

“What are we doing about it?” The soldier demanded, his flesh hand clenched in a fist under the table while he attempted to pull his head straight.  

“We need figure out where he’d go next,” Tony decided firmly.  “If there’s a possibility he’d slip into one of the Hydra safehouses stateside, we do that.  Do we have any information on Hydra cells internationally?”

“I have my people working on it,” Natasha replied.  “Fury also has SHIELD agents listening all over for murmurs.”

“If this is Crossbones, we need to handle this very carefully,” Steve warned the group.  “He knows Bucky’s triggers, and now he knows Krauss’ research.”

“The things that haven’t been redacted over the years,” Tony mumbled with a sigh of relief.  “We still have time.  What we need to focus on is on the last page of the packet.”

It was a photocopied print out from a military record from August 11th, 1918.  

“This is-?” Natasha began but was interrupted by Stark.  The redhead shot him a glare, but allowed him to continue.  

“Mabel filled in where she could,” he explained.  Bucky scanned the document and noticed that Mabel’s neat handwriting filled in the spaces where the typed information had been blacked out.   “We’re talking a world ending machine.  She believes it works with sonic waves or something, to destroy entire cities without a single trace.”

“That’s impossible,” Bucky scoffed, but narrowed his gaze while he continued reading the details of the report- right up to where it noted four elite soldiers had lost their lives in its pursuit.  A lump formed in his throat and he coughed.

Mabel wouldn’t have risked her life for something as petty as a rumor.  She had a good head on her shoulders, despite her more impulsive tendencies.

“I thought the same thing until FRIDAY dug through the original SHIELD leak,” he pulled up a frozen black and white image.  It was grainy, reminding Bucky of the soundless films he’d watched with Steve back in the day, the theaters had saved money by showing aged films in lieu of newer ones for their poorer audiences.

Tony started the clip.  It was a shaky image of a forest.  Bucky couldn’t quite figure out where the forest was, but the video’s intentions became clear.  In seconds, without so much of a shift in the camera, the entire forest was wiped flat.  

Even nuclear bombs left behind some skeletons.  

“It’s authenticate,” Tony voiced the concern before anyone could speak.  

“FRIDAY found it in a buried archive on the SHIELD server from Hydra.  It was really the only media they’d been able to store from that period, aside from a few photographs.”  He pulled up a black and white image of a mustached man.  “At least we finally put a face to the monster.”

“That’s Krauss?” Steve looked to Tony for confirmation and the billionaire simply nodded.  “Has Mabel seen this?”

Tony frowned and shook his head.  

“Sam, Bruce, and Wanda are working with her later tonight,” the look he gave the group was painful.  “It probably won’t be pretty, but we need to tap into that head of hers and find out everything we can,”

“And use her like a guinea pig?” Bucky spoke out before he could stop himself.

“She volunteered,” Tony corrected sharply.  “I wouldn’t subject anyone to this without their consent.”

Bucky growled a profanity under his breath before Tony dismissed the meeting.  He certainly wasn’t happy about Mabel being subjected to what seemed like rapid memory recollection, but he respected her choice.  

Even if, in his opinion, it was a stupid one.

Mabel was curled up on her bed, neatly organizing the photos she brought onto the walls around her.  It wasn’t much, but it made the sterile white and grey room a little more like home.  

A soft knock on her door pulled her out of her early century daydreams and she softly called for the guest to enter.  

To her surprise, Wanda entered the room, a weerie expression on her features.

“How are you settling in?” she asked, glancing politely at the pictures scattered across Mabel’s bed.  

“Just finishing unpacking,” Mabel reported, gesturing to her empty suitcase at the corner of the room.  Wanda looked at the relatively untouched room and gave the woman another small smile.  “Was there something you needed?”

“I wanted to talk to you about this evening,” she crossed the room to sit on the edge of Mabel’s bed, giving the blonde plenty of room with her photographs.

“I’ve been writing down everything I can think of,” Mabel gestured to a closed notebook next to her bed.  “And focusing on the specific missions, like Sam suggested.”  She eyed the Sokovian curiously, the brunette woman’s expression shifting slightly.  

“We don’t have to do this,” Wanda stated, looking down at her hands.  “It’s a painful process that nearly destroyed Bucky.  Tony is asking you to pull memories that have been buried by torture and abuse.  It will all come back.”

Mabel spine straightened and she bowed her head, considering Wanda’s words.  

“Would a more specific memory help?” she asked quietly, her eyes drifting to a photograph of the Avengers that Sam had given her.  In particular, she studied Steve’s familiar features.  “It’s a painful memory, but if I can remember specific details it might help.”

“Do I know this memory?” Wanda’s voice was barely above a whisper.  

“You know the agony associated with it,” Mabel replied, her eyes flicking up to meet the hero’s.  “And the last moments of it.”

“Joseph Rogers' death,” Wanda realized without hesitation.  “It was a mission, was it not?”

Mabel nodded slowly, pulling bits and pieces of that particular day forward.  He was dispatched to retrieve documents from a lab outside the front.  Slip in, grab them, slip out.  The cult, somewhat unknown at the time, was losing funding.  

There were very few guards.  Honestly, it’d been one of the cleanest missions since Mabel had enlisted.  The team stole the documents, but on their way out- that’s when it turned into a disaster.  

“He had the original blueprints for the device,” she explained, the idea beginning to take shape.  “I saw them.  It was brief, but I did get the chance to look at them before he died.”

Wanda paused in thought.  Mabel could practically see the young woman weighing the pros and cons of pulling up that particularly painful memory.  

“We will have to start with his death,” she stated after a few seconds of silence.  “That’s the anchor.  Sam mentioned to me that it already might be connected to one of your triggers, which is understandable.”

Mabel hummed in agreement and allowed her to continue.  

“Perhaps if I can pull out the full memory from that point, we can get an idea of what to look for,” she spoke as her thoughts rolled around in her head.  “It might just work.”

“We should talk to Dr. Banner,” Mabel confirmed with a short nod at her companion.  “And figure out the best way to transcribe the information from me to you to a way Tony can understand.”

“Leave that to me,” Wanda stood up from the bed and offered a hand for Mabel.  “We were due to start soon anyway, would you join me in the lab?”

Mabel moved a few pictures and took the woman’s hand, allowing Wanda to guide her through the hallways of the Tower.

“It’s a gorgeous view,” Mabel commented, glancing at the nighttime skyline that surrounded the building.  “Bigger than it used to be.”

“The foundations may crumble, but home will always be home, my friend,” Wanda smiled warmly and pulled her toward the elevator where they chatted about Wanda’s homeland.  

“All Pietro and I knew was war,” she confided as the numbers on the elevator counted upward.  “Sokovia has a difficult past.  Have you read of it’s founding?”

Mabel shook her head, frowning sympathetically to her.  

“I made it through the 1980s before we left,” she confessed.  That was another thing Mabel hoped to focus on during her stay.  The geography of the world had shifted so many times throughout the years, she was having trouble keeping up.  From what she understood, Sokovia was a result of the Soviet Union breaking up, but Mabel didn’t know the specifics.

“There was a very strong culture with my people that differed from other regions,” Wanda explained.  “Unfortunately, our numbers were small and within those numbers, we simply could not agree.  That’s the short version.”

“I’m very sorry you had to suffer through that,” Mabel looked to her with sincerity.  “No child should lose their innocence through violence.”

Wanda didn’t say a word, as the elevator had arrived at their destination and their attention fell on Bucky waiting outside the lab.

He was pacing, barely glancing up to acknowledge the women.  He did a double take and saw Mabel standing with the psychic and briskly walked over, grabbing Mabel’s upper arm forcefully and pulling her aside.

“Are you aware of what you’re doing?” he questioned in a low voice.  “Because I don’t think they are going to tell you the details of how fuckinghorrifying this is.”

“We did it before,” Mabel stated dryly, she shook her head trying to follow his thoughts.  She pulled her arm from his grip and studied him over.  He was more expressive than Mabel had ever seen him.  There was worry, anger, confusion, and a tiny bit of agony as he spoke.  

“This is something else entirely,” he warned.  “It’s the opposite of the wipe.  You’re forcing the memories they pushed away, back to the surface.  It’s excruciatingly painful and I need to know that you’re doing this willingly and not because Stark guilted you or you have this hero-complex.”

“Anyone would do the same thing in my position, Bucky,” Mabel said with a soft shrug.  “You did it.”

“I didn’t do this,” he noticed Stark walking out of the lab to greet Wanda and turned to block Mabel out of view.  “You’re pulling it all out at once.  Didn’t they tell you that?”

She bit down on her bottom lip and looked away before speaking.

“I suggested it.”

He paused, clearly at a loss for words.

“You could hurt someone, or yourself,” he reached and grabbed Mabel’s shoulders gently.  “Please rethink this.”

His plea made Mabel’s heart ache in a way she hadn’t felt since Joseph’s death.  The particular feeling startled her and she pulled away from his grip.  

“I spoke with Wanda and we’re going to try something a little different,” she admitted, matching her eyeline with his.  “It will be difficult, but she says it is possible to pull off.  She’s talking with the others right now.”

Mabel was frozen in place while Bucky digested the information, his face exposing some of his thoughts.  The slight tug of his lips suggested unease, the tiny arch in his brow suggested irritation.  

“I need to me in there with you,” he decided firmly, offering Mabel no other alternatives.  “I don’t care if we have to kick Stevie out.  You’re not doing this alone.”

“Tony will be there,” she smirked, watching that slight arch in his brow.  

“Even more reason for me to be there,” he threw an arm around Mabel’s shoulders, pulling her closer to his torso.  Mabel felt herself stiffen at the sudden gesture, unfamiliar with the less conservative forms of public affection.  Slowly, she wrapped and around around him and he pulled away, satisfied with their agreement.  

“Let’s get this over with,” he commented, gesturing her toward the lab and opening the door for her.  

“Miss Mabel Foster,” Tony greeted from across the lab with a nod.  “Wanda told us your idea and I’ve got to say, you might be a genius.”

“That’s big coming from you,” Bruce scoffed with an eye-roll.  “It’s a good theory. We're willing to test it, if you’re up for it.”  

Wanda, Tony, Bruce, and Bucky all looked to Mabel expectantly.  

“I’m willing to do whatever it takes.”

PART 13

#marvel #mcu #james bucky barnes #Steve Rogers #avengers #ww1 #ww2 #hydra #fanfiction #OFC #OC #oc/bucky #fanfic #ao3 #series

[forever-rogue]

Words and Paper - Part III

Summary: Y/N is a brilliant young lawyer who was hired by Tony Stark himself. She didn’t expect half of the things that would happened, but she was sure glad Bucky happened.

A/N: Here is part 3, finally! I know this is a fluff fest, but plot will come in the next part. Thank you guys for all the support as usual! If you would like to be added to the taglist, just let me know! :)

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: just lots of fluff!

MASTERLIST

PART I | PART II | PART IV | PART V | PART VI | PART VII | PART VIII | PART IX | PART X | PART XI | PART XII | PART XIII

It had been a few hectic weeks since Y/N’s big move to New York, and she couldn’t have been more happy with her decision - or her new friends. Tony had been nice enough to give a month off, paid of course, to get adjusted and settle down. She found that life in New York suited her: it was fast paced and crazy, much like California, but in a different way, which she enjoyed tremendously. Plus, the chillier weather and more diverse seasons was something she had been looking forward.

Tony had introduced her to the various members of the Avengers team, she had liked them all. She could already tell Natasha was going to be a good friend, and everyone else was extremely helpful as will, offering help however they could. Although she wouldn’t be directly working with them or probably even seeing them on a daily basis, she liked her new circle of friends. But much to no one’s surprise, Bucky had become her closest companion.

Y/N was putting away one of the final boxes of knick knacks that she had brought with her from San Francisco, when she heard a soft knock on her door. She cast a look over at Pickles, who was curled up busy napping on window sill bench, trying to get any sunlight she could during the overcast late afternoon. She hadn’t expected anyone to come over today, so she debated even answering the door. She decided it was probably nothing to worry about, so she padded over to the big wooden door and looked through the peephole, and to her surprise it was Bucky.

“Hello there,” she grinned as she swung open the door in excitement, “I wasn’t expecting you.” She gave him a quick once over and felt a slight blush creep up in her cheeks when she realized how good he looked, although he always looked good, he never really had to try. He was dressed simply today, a button down and some jeans, but damn, he made it look good. In his hands he clutched small bouquet of flowers.

“Hey, Y/N,” he beamed at her and held the flowers out to her, “these are for you. A sort of little housewarming present.”

“They’re beautiful,” she stepped aside and let him in. Pickles, suddenly wide awake, hopped off of the bench and ran over to greet him.Y/N smiled at the two of them, Pickles wasn’t usually so friendly with people she was still getting to know, “she approves too. And they’re my favorite. You remembered.”

“Yes, daisies,” he bent down to pick up the small cat and started giving her cuddles, “You told me 2 weeks ago. But you prefer lighter pastel colors over the super bright ones.”

“Alright,” she grinned as she headed to the kitchen to put the flowers in a vase, “I’m extremely impressed you remembered all of that.”

“I don’t forget things about people I like,” he admitted somewhat sheepishly. He sat down at the island counter and watched her work, “what’s today’s thing you have decided to share?” The two of them had kept true to their word and were telling each other new things about themselves on the daily.

“Hmmm, what indeed,” she mused as she set the finished flowers on the counter. She tried to give him a variety of different facts to keep it interesting, alternating from telling him random things about her family, her high school years, or random things she liked. She loved getting to know little bits and pieces of Bucky, just as he loved learning about her, “my favorite type of people are ones who remember little details about me.”

“Oh come on, that’s a given and doesn’t count,” he laughed at her.

“Fineeee,” she sighed and leaned against the counter as she racked her brain, “Quentin Tarantino is my favorite director.”

“What?!” He was now full on laughing, barely keeping it together. It amused him to no end how someone so gentle and soft loved the exact opposite. She ran into the adjacent living room and  grabbed one of the pillows off of the couch and hit him with it, “oh, you’re serious?”

“Yes, you jerk,” she stuck her tongue out at him, “I think he’s great. Just because it’s violent, doesn’t mean I can’t like it. He has a vision, you know. Story telling is his forte!”

“Alright, alright, Princess,” he appeased her and played along and got on his knees, clasping his hands in front of him, “please forgive this poor peasant for ever doubting you.”

“I mean...I suppose. This Princess likes her Buckaroo,” she extended her hand out to him to pull him up. He bowed his head and reached for her hand. He stood up more abruptly than she was expecting and they slammed into each other. Bucky wrapped his arms around her to keep from falling as he balanced them out, “ohh hello.”

“Hi there,” he smiled down at her as he inhaled her soft vanilla scent,, “are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

“No, I’m good,” she nodded lightly. Her heart was beating a million miles a minute, as they both stood unmoving. She could feel the heat radiating from his strong body on her smaller frame. They had never been this close and entangled before.

She was pretty sure her growing feelings for him were undoubtedly not so secret anymore. What she didn’t know was that Bucky felt the same about her. It had been so long, decades really, since he had had feelings for anyone. Especially nowadays, when people still feared him and he didn’t make many close connections. Neither of them wanted to move; everything in this moment felt right..until she heard a loud meow behind her, “oh!”

Pickles sat on the floor in the kitchen next to her water bowl, signaling it was time for her dinner. What great timing she had, indeed  Bucky and Y/N slowly let go of one another as she walked over to feed the cat. Bucky was sad to have to let go of her but didn’t want to make things awkward. He stood there and scratched the back of his neck.

Y/N quickly fed Pickles before turning back to him, “I-uh, sorry. She’s so needy.”

“It’s okay,” he responded, thinking of how to make his next move, “it is dinner time after all. Have you eaten?”

“No, actually, I was just putting away the last of my stuff, eating hadn’t even crossed my mind,” she admitted as she glanced over at the small and still half packed box.

“I don’t know if you had plans or anything,” he chuckled nervously, “but would you want to get dinner or something?”

“I do not have plans,” an idea crossed her mind, “but how about we order in and watch a movie? Maybe a Tarantino one? I have all of his films.”

“That sounds great,” his heart did did somersaults at her plan. He couldn’t think of anything he’d rather be doing right now, “what sounds good for dinner?”

“Chinese, for sure,” she was never one of those girls who couldn’t make up her mind, “unless you’d prefer something else?”

“No, Chinese is always good,” he agreed as he walked into the kitchen and opened the drawer where he had started a collection of menus for local restaurants. You never know what you could be in the mood for or when, he had told when he first started the growing collection.

He already knew what she liked, but he didn’t want to give away how much he actually remembered about her. Stalker vibes was not something he was wanting to give off. He knew she loved her egg rolls and fried rice, “do you want anything in particular?”

“The usual! I think that sounds perfect right now,” she gave him a big smile as she went to grab some blankets from the small hall linen closet. She sneaked peeks at him as he pulled out his phone and called their favorite spot. She listened to his smooth and voice him, watched as he nodded his head as ordered, the way his smile reached his blue eyes, making them seem bluer and brighter than ever. She wondered what it’d be like to kiss his soft looking lips.

“Y/N?” Bucky caught her off guard, as she had zoned out as she was watching him. He waved his hand in front of her face.

“Huh? Oh sorry,” her cheeks deepened to a bright crimson as she realized she had been caught staring at him, “I got so caught up thinking about which movie to watch.”

“Sure, Princess,” he gave her a wink that made her want to melt as he sat down on the couch and put his feet on the table, “the food should be here in about half an hour. What film were you thinking about?”

“How about Reservoir Dogs?” she held up the box in front of her face as she walked over to the TV, “underrated if you ask me, but one of his best.”

“I agree, his earlier works might be slightly better than his old ones,” he watched her eagerly put into the move into her Playstation. He loved how easy, and yet wonderful everything felt with her. He patted the couch next to him and she sucked in her breath a little bit. As often as they spent time together being so close to him still gave her butterflies. She sat down a bit tensely as she too put her feet on the coffee table. She left just a little bit of distance between.

They started watching the movie, although neither of them were completely focused on it. Both of them were hyper aware of the heat flowing between them and the closeness of their bodies. Bucky was trying to push himself to make a move. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched her chest rise and fall lightly, her eyes trained on the TV. Just as he was ready to finally put his arm around her, a knock came at the door. He groaned inwardly, but stood up to answer it.

He opened the door and quickly grabbed the food and put it on the table, ready to turn around and get some plates. Y/N scoffed a little bit, which caused him to turn around, “what?”

“It’s Chinese, we’re supposed to eat it out of the container,” she said dramatically. The corners of his mouth turned up in a small smile, “unless you’re afraid of my germs, Buckaroo.”

“Not a bit,” he rejoined her on the couch and grabbed the chopsticks she was holding out to him, “you just can’t go hogging everything, like last time.”

“Oh come on! It was one time and I was really hungry,” she protested as she started shoving an egg roll into her mouth. She immediately regretted her decision as the bite was too big to shove. She gave a muffled grunt, “oops.”

“My point exactly,” she narrowed her eyes as at him as she tried to swallow the last of the bite. She struggled breaking down the big bit as she continued to chew and chew.

“I got it all down,” she said triumphantly a few moments later and stuck her tongue out at him, “and there’s more for you. See I can play nice!”

“We’ll see about,” he countered as he started getting the chow mein they had gotten, earning himself a jab in the side from Y/N with one of her chopsticks.

They finished their food in relative, comfortable, silence as they turned their attentions back to the movie. About halfway through, Y/N felt her eyelids start to droop and a few shivers ran down her body as she was getting cold. Bucky noticed and grabbed one of the big fluffy blankets and draped it over them. He finally got enough courage as he put his arm around her and pulled her close to his chest. When she didn’t argue but burrowed even closer into his side he couldn’t contain the goofy grin on his face.

It wasn’t long before Y/N was asleep and snoring softly on his chest. He watched the rest of the movie in happy silence, moving as little as he could as to not disturb her. Pickles even got up on couch on his other side and rubbed against his hand. He gave her a few scratches and she contently curled up into his side.

As the end credits started rolling, Y/N started to slowly wake up. She blinked a few times before she realized what position she was in. She was pulled away to the side and looked over at Bucky, hoping she hadn’t done anything too awkward or embarrassing, like confusing her feelings in her sleep. He smiled over at her as he kept his arm draped over her.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered in small voice.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” he stated as he pulled his arm from around her shoulders and sat himself so they were facing one another.

“Did I snore?”

“Like you were sawing logs,” he joked and she groaned and hid her face her hands. He gently pulled her hands away and rand thumb over cheek, “I’m just kidding, it was so soft I almost didn’t even notice.”

“Promise?”

“Yeah,” he nodded before getting a wicked idea, “the drooling though...that’s where I draw the line.”

“You’re such a liar,” she challenged him and he burst out in laughter.

“You got me there,” he admitted. He studied her face, trying to read what she was thinking. He figured things had gone well enough so far, he might as well try his luck, “Y/N?”

“Hmm,” she made a content sound and pulled the warm blanket closer to her body and away from him with a wicked smile.

“I never told you anything about me today,”

“Oh, that’s right you didn’t,” she realized they been too caught up in eating and movie watching, or in her case, snoring, “go on then.”

“My fact for today is that I’ve been wanting to kiss you since the day we met,” he admitted as he waited with bated breath for her response. He tried to read her facial expressions, which he mostly read as surprise.

“Really?” She asked as her face broke out in a big smile, making her eyes crinkle at the corners, something he had noticed early on.

“Yes,” he admitted as he was the one who now had a faint blush starting on his cheeks.

“Are you gonna actually go ahead and do it?” She asked as she leaned forward and wrapped her arms his neck and pulled him closer, “because I’ve been waiting for you to make a move for a while now.”

That was all Bucky needed to hear as he closed the distance between them and put his lips on her soft ones. They both felt the instant spark between them and felt as though time was standing still. Only when they needed some air did they finally pull apart.

She rested her hands on his shoulders as he cupped her cheeks. He leaned his forehead against hers in a small but intimate gesture. He kissed her lips once more and they grinned at each other like lovesick teenagers. Y/N sighed contently and closed her eyes.

“That was worth the wait,” he admitted.

“It was about time,” she joked as he nodded in agreement. She reached up and invited him back under she stolen, “now that that’s settled, what movie is up next?”

Bucky pulled Y/N back against his chest and decided in that moment that it really didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was them and their happiness.

Taglist: @sebstanwassup @ladyabby-1996 @bookaddic @jems8241

#marvel #avengers #mcu #captain america #winter solider #ca winter solider #winter solider x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #sebastian stan #imagine #ca civil war #steve rogers #oc #james bucky barnes #mine #tony stark

[septic84]

Pancakes and Corn.

Interactive Introverts was amazing, it was one of the coolest things I had been a part of and I was still in awe that I even was able to attend. My best friend was the only reason I could, so for my birthday (That happened a few days after), she drove us to the show. We were on the way back to where we were staying when we decided to stop at a gas station. I made no particular note of the bus that was parked in the back, or the group of people who were standing near it, as I walked into the station. 

A03:

I was tired, I was not used to things like this, in fact, this was the only “show” I had ever really gone too. We were 4 hours from home, two from where we were staying and It was way past my bedtime. I was tired, but the excitement kept me alert.

“You gonna make it?” She asked me. “Of course, I am fricken zazzed!” She laughed at me.

“My wallet is on the bus,” I heard a familiar voice say. “Well, so is mine you spoon, doesn't anyone else have theirs?”

“I don't know! We all just kind of ran out of the bus, remember?”

My best friend cocked an eyebrow at me as I rounded the corner and saw both Dan and Phil standing there, bickering.

“Is that-?” she whispered as I cut her off.

“Yes, shh.”

They looked tired, flustered and lost. (like tired flustered and lost giraffes of course, because with us both being about 5'0, they were giants.)

“We need to figure something out Phil, you need to eat.”

“I know.” He said dryly.

Suddenly my mind was made up. I felt like I was going to throw up but still I approached them.

“Hey, maybe we shouldn't,” my best friends voice echoed behind me.

“Hello,” I said as I approached them.

“Hello,” Dan responded, his voice was tense. He had immediately changed his tone as he noticed my Manchester shirt. "How are you?"

“Hey.” Phil forced a smile.

“Sounds like you're having some trouble?” I asked, my voice embarrassingly went up two octaves, my best friend snickered behind me. I turned to her. “Shut up.”

Phil smirked

Dan sighed and quietly thought for a moment, looking between Nola and I. “The carbon dioxide detector went off in the bus. They can't tell if we are in grave danger or if it's a malfunction. They have a tech on their way now, but as it is,” Dan checked his phone “10:30 Pm on a Friday, it may take a while.” Dan sighed.

“Yikes.”

“Yes, we left everything on the bus,” Phil said.

“I can help. May I get you something? Pop, coffee or water? Anything?”

“Oh, no. That's okay, we will be fine.” Phil said rushed, Dan didn't look so convinced.

“Listen, it's no trouble. Honestly.”

Dan again glanced at my shirt. “No, we really shouldn't bother you. But it was nice for you to ask.”

It was my shirt, they felt uncomfortable because I was one of their viewers. I guess I could see that. Well, it was time for a change then. "Can you wait here a sec?” I asked

“There are too many bugs outside right now, so this is where we will be,” Dan responded. “Yep, summer in Wisconsin. Bugs and road construction.” I said. “Excuse us, please.” I pulled my best friend over to the side. “Keys!”

“Okay?” She handed them to me, still confused.

“Go make small talk”

“What? Why me? You're an asshole. You are the one that is obsessed with them!”

“Exactly. I have to go to your car; I'll be right back.” Nola was very patient with me, she wasn't really their fan, I just pulled her along for the ride. She had listened to me "fangirl" so much over Dan and Phil, I am sure I was annoying. I couldn't help it, I think she understood that and tolerated me. I started my way towards the door.

“Really?” I heard as I exited the building.

I went to the back of her small SUV and found my bag. In the dark, in the back seat, I hurried to take off my shirt and switch it with the flannel that I had, rolling up the sleeves. I took off all jewelry that was cat whisker themed. I wiped off most of my makeup and undid my hair so now it was in a messy bun like usual. Hopefully, now I looked like a normal person and not a fan.

I walked back in to find my best friend doing her best to fulfill my request.

“Hi,” I said as if we had never spoken. “I really respect both of you and I understand you may be uncomfortable, so let's start over. My name is Avery, this is my best friend, Nola. We are not local around here either, but we live in this state. We are over 18, way over.”

“Hey!” Nola exclaimed.

“What? It's true, isn't it? We are.”

“Oh my God, Av, you make us sound like we are 50!”

“Shh!” I turned back to them, “Anyway, it seems like you are in a circumstance that requires assistance.” I pulled out my wallet. “In this neck of the woods, we help when we can. Well, we do anyway. You can act like you don't know that we know who you are, relax and let me,”

“Us!” Nola protested

“Okay, us, help you. Let's just be people, not involve your “jobs” in it. Yeah? I can handle that. My job doesn't come into play when I meet new people or when I need help. So, gents, what will it be? You look exhausted Are you hungry?”

Phil glanced at Dan; Dan glanced at Phil. “Ah, can we have a second?”

Nola laughed through her nose softly. “Of course.” She pulled me closer to the front of the store. “You do realize what you are doing, right?”

“Trying to help?”

“No, not that. I am used to that. I know you. You are probably breaking some “tour” code or rule. This could be a PR nightmare if it were to go south. They probably are worried or scared.”

“Of us?” I asked incredulously laughing loudly. “Two chubby thirty-somethings in a gas station at 11:00 PM? Oh boy, so scary! It's not like we are intoxicated, either. That would have bad news written all over it. We are in Wisconsin, not LA.” I shook my head

“But still, Av. They are from London. Do you see a tall building here? No, you don't. You see orange cones and cornfields. I bet their manager would hate this.”

“Well, I don't see her anywhere, so maybe she isn't here?”

“Maybe not, but-”

“Ladies?” Dan called. I spun around; Dan was right next to me.

“Jesus Christ!” I screamed as I jumped.

“Ah, sorry.”

Nola at this point was beside herself laughing. She knew how jumpy I was. If I didn't love her so much, I would disown her.

“Oh, hardy har har, Nol, I got scared, big surprise." I turned to Dan. “It's fine, I'm jumpy.”

“So, we have decided to take you up on your hospitality.”

I smiled. “Thank you! So, here's the next hard question.” I glanced at Nola, “Do you want to get food and things here or did you want to go to an actual restaurant. I saw A Perkins a few miles down the road. They are 24 hours.” she glared at me, I had just volunteered her to take us all to a restaurant. I knew really she didn't mind, but at the moment, she wasn't too thrilled with the sudden offer and change in plans.

“Um,” Phil said. He seemed like he was not sure about this newly introduced idea, either.

“I know this is all weird.” Nola offered. “Honestly, we are just trying to help.” I guess she wasn't too mad at me.

“What she said. Yeah, this is strange, I know you don't know us, but I could, like give you my driver's license? So, like you can see I am who I say?” Phil didn't seem to relax. “Hey, Mr. Lester? It's gonna be okay. I swear.”

Dan laughed “Mr. Lester?”

“Well, I don't really know you, so I figured....”

“Oh my god, they are adorable Phil!” Phil shook his head smiling but seemed to agree. Much to Nola's chagrin.

“We are not!” she protested.

“Hey, speak for yourself!” I retorted.

“Not the time, Avery.” She said through clenched teeth. I could tell Nola was getting uncomfortable. So could Dan.

“Please, Dan and Phil,” Dan replied softly.

“Okay, Dan and Phil, do you guys want to go and get food or eat gas station food?” Nola asked, still a little annoyed. “Avery gets very hangry; we haven't eaten for hours. It's going to get nasty soon.”

“Hey!” I protested. “I am not that bad!”

“Um, sure.” Nola patted my arm “It's okay.”

Dan smirked. “Phil won't admit it, either.”

Phil rolled his eyes. “Can we take security with us?” Dan sideways glanced at him.

“I figured you would. You don't know us. I could still give you my ID.” I said, trying not to roll my eyes. “I mean I get it, who the hell knows what could be lurking in the depths of a Perkins at 11:00 PM sandwiched between cones, hayfields, and corn.”

“Uh oh, it's starting,” Nola said. “It's almost too late. The hangry beast is about to make its debut.”

“No, it's not. I wasn't trying to be rude; I was being serious... Or at least trying to be.” I protested. She ignored me.

“It's going to get worse before it gets better. So, go get your bodyguards and meet us out at the red SUV under pump 14. We will wait.” Nola smiled and pulled my arm leading me away. We paid for the items we needed and went back out to the car.

“Gee thanks, Nol. Way to make me look like a baby.”

“I didn't want you to embarrass yourself. You are hangry right now, Av. Just accept it. I also was trying to make them more comfortable.” She sighed. “Oh yeah, thanks for just leaving me with them while you changed by the way. I had to make small talk. You KNOW I hate that. Also, for volunteering me to go out to dinner with your favorite YouTubers. Like, not awkward at all right?”

“I love you, Nola. Thank you.”

“Yeah, Yeah. I hope they don't mind a messy back seat if they are riding with us. I am sure there are fruit loops and toys all over.”

I smirked.

“Also, holy hell they are tall.”

“Yeah, they are.”

“The things I do for you, I swear.”

“You are the best friend ever.”

After about 10 minutes they approached with a bodyguard that looked like he could kill us with his thumb.

“Holy shit, look at captain buff there,” I said.

“He makes them look small; he makes us look like ants.”

I opened the door and smiled.

“Okay,” Phil said, “This is Hank, part of our security team. He has to ride with us.”

“Hello, Hank.”

“May I see your identifications, please?” He asked, formally. This dude was intimidating.

“Sure,” I got out my license and handed it to him, Nola did the same.

“Good. This is good.” He turned to Dan and Phil. “We are okay with this,”

As they got into the vehicle, it was a tight squeeze, Hank was sat in the middle.

“There is surprisingly a lot of legroom,” Phil said to Dan as if he didn't recall the circumstance at hand.

“You are lucky we are short,” Nola said, glancing in the rearview.

Dan picked up a stuffed rabbit on the floor.

“That's Mr. Fluffy pants. He and my youngest have had a bit of a falling out.”

I smirked. On the way down here, her youngest was scolding that poor rabbit for about 5 miles. “So, Perkins then?”

“Yes, please,” Phil responded. “I'm not sure what that is, but if there is food, let's go.”

I laughed, “Sorry, 'round here it's a common household name. Yes, it's a restaurant.” A car was following closely behind us, I glanced at Nola who seemed uneasy.

“Is there more security behind us?” I asked as casually as I could.

“Yes,” was what Hank responded.

“Sorry, we are not used to being followed. For us, that is out of place. Had to make sure.” I responded.

“Sorry,” Dan said. “We are so used to it, It never occurred to me that it may be concerning to someone else.”

“Well, at least now I don't have to get us lost trying to lose them,” Nola muttered.

“Not that you couldn't though.”

“Avery, shut up, okay?”

“Yes, ma'am.”

“Is this what we sound like?” Dan asked Phil.

“Maybe.”

“You've known each other half the time that we have,” I said. "If you don't, you will in 10 years,” Nola smirked.

We were seated at a table, Dan and Phil on one side, Nola and I on the other. Hank and the other security team members were seated in booths around us.

“Get what you'd like,” I said to Dan and Phil. "Do you guys need to eat?" I called over to the security team.

"No," Hank said, "We're fine, ma'am."

“Thanks, it was really nice to include us all. Even our team," Dan said, motioning behind him

“Yeah, this is all very kind of you both,” Phil said.

I blushed. “Ah, yeah.”

“Phil, stop,” Dan whispered.

“So,” Nola asked, breaking the tension. “Fortnite, huh?” She had heard me talking about Phil's victory tweet and must have remembered. Thank God she remembered.

“Yeah, haven't had a chance to play in a while, world tour and all,” Phil responded. “Do you game?'

“I do. Not Fortnite.”

“Oh?”

“Not my style.”

Phil looked at me “Do you game?”

“Well, I sure try. I am not very good, but I enjoy it.”

“Fortnite?”

“Nope, sorry. I'm A PUBG kiddy” I laughed “Trust me, I know it's bad.”

“I like PUBG somewhat,” Dan said. “Just... so much desync.”

“Oh, don't I know it.”

Menus were brought to the table; the server came back with drinks. Nola, Dan, and Phil continued their conversation. I smiled and listened. I couldn't believe this was happening. Nola nudged me.

“You okay?' she whispered

“Yes. I am old and tired.”

Phil laughed. “How old is old?”

“Phil!” Dan scolded “You don't ask women their ages.”

“Why?” I asked, “Women who get all uptight about getting older, need to chill the fuck out. The alternative is death. So.”

Nola scowled at me. “Avery, stop.”

“What? You know how I feel about this.”

“I know, but really? Now?”

“You either get old or you die.”

“I know, I know.”

“We're both over 30,” I said. Thankfully, the server had decided to come over to take our order at that moment, after they had gone, I looked at Phil. He had ordered a giant stack of pancakes.

“Don't you ever get sick of eating pancakes? I mean, good lord man.”

“Nope, never. You don't like them?”

“Oh, I like them just fine, just once in a while and now even less. We can't eat many carbs or much Gluten”

“Oh,” He had said.

“We refer to our medical conditions like they are Pokémon,” Nola said.

“Acid reflux disease, I choose you!” I said, smirking at her.

They didn't respond to that, but I wasn't sure how they would. It took a while to get accustomed to Nola and my "strange."

“Sorry, we took up your evening,” Dan said a short time later.

Nola laughed. “Well, typically she is asleep at this time, but I can assure you, there is nowhere Avery would rather be."

“Nola!” I hissed.

“It's true, Av,”

“I get it,” Dan said.

“Yeah,” I said. “This is the strangest small talk conversation I have ever been a part of,” I laughed. “Like, is this real life?”

“It better be,” Phil said, “I really want those pancakes.” We all laughed.

After we had eaten and paid, we were making our way back to Nola’s car when Dan said.

“We should take pictures together.”

“Should we?”

“Well, if you want. I would like to tweet about Wisconsin hospitality.”

“Wa-scon-sin.” I corrected. “It's not West-con-sin.”

“Avery, stop it.”

“Well, I want them to know how to say it properly!”

Dan laughed, “Noted, so here?” We all gathered in frame and took a few shots, first with his phone, then with Nola's.

“You're okay that we tweet this?”

I looked at Nola, she nodded. “You remember how crazy I told you the Phannies get, right?” Both Dan and Phil nodded emphatically.

“Yeah, I think I can handle it.”

“Okay, then yeah, we're good.”

The drive back to their bus was mostly quiet, I was trying not to fall asleep. As much as Nola had roasted me while we were eating, It wasn't untrue. When we arrived, we walked them back to their bus.

“Well, looks liked you're good,” Nola said.

“Thank you both so much. We had such a good evening.” Phil said.

“You're welcome, honestly though, it was no trouble.”

“We are going to remember this night when we are old ladies rocking on a porch,” Nola said and I nodded in agreement.

“Have a safe trip to your next destination,”

“Thanks,” Dan said, holding his arms out. I hugged him, then Phil.

When we had said our final goodbyes, we walked reluctantly back to the SUV, I could tell Nola was as sad the night was over as much as I was.

“It was really the best birthday present in the world for this to have happened,”

“Yeah, I know. I am never topping this, you realize.”

I laughed, “I am just thankful you took me to see the show in the first place, this was just a delightful bonus” Suddenly our phones started to chime. “I guess they tweeted.”

“Two gracious Wisconsin ladies took care of and fed us tonight when our bus had a malfunction, locking all of our wallets inside. Thank you, Avery and Nola. We hope when we have been friends for 20 years, we are just like you.” And there was the picture, Dan, Phil, Nola and I.

“Holy shit,” I muttered.

“We're Twitter famous.”

“For now, yeah.”

I replied to Phil's Tweet. “You nerds will never be as cool as we are, but keep trying. (Ps: You're welcome.) “

"We probably are going to want to turn off our notifications for a while.” “Yeah, probably.”

“This is unreal.”

“This is going to be a story for parties for sure.”

“If we ever go to parties again, we don't have any other friends.”

“Will we had better make some and get invited to parties. We pretty much have too now, we have an epic story,”

I laughed, “I love you, Nola,”

“Love ya too.”

#phanfiction #pff bingo 2019