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gojo-x-reader · 3 years

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Not So Special Now

Relationship(s): F!Reader x Gojo Satoru

Warnings: canon-typical violence

Tags: fluff (at the end), reader-focused

AO3 Link: here

Words: ~4k

Request: “hello there, i love ur soulmate and marriage life hc 🥺 can you make scenario/hc/drabble whatever u prefer where his fem/gn so is also a sorcerer and gets hurt/injured on a mission? thank you!”

“Are you sure you’ll be fine?” Your boyfriend, Satoru, asked you. His hands were on your biceps, giving it a worried, yet comforting squeeze.

“Yes, Satoru,” you answered, a little annoyed at how he was treating you. It’s been several years since either of you were in high school; this wasn’t your first mission.

“I can’t help but worry, you know. It’s your first ever special grade assignment.”

“Just because I’m not the same rank as you, Mr. Special Grade, doesn’t mean I’m weak. Besides, there are two others going so I’m not doing this alone.”

“I know, I know.” Satoru pressed his lips gently onto your forehead, then gazed into your eyes lovingly. In a rare instance while on the job, his blindfold was replaced with dark sunglasses. You reached up to shift them down, allowing you to gaze into his bright blue eyes. They were breathtaking no matter how many times you saw them. You moved your hands from his glasses to his shoulders, forcing him down so you could reach up to leave a chaste kiss on his lips.

“I’ll see you tonight,” you promised.

The two of you embraced one more time before you joined your other group members for the mission. You turned back and waved at him as the three of you entered the car to be driven to the location for your mission.

“Sure wish Gojo-san was coming with us,” one of them mused. “He could handle this mission single-handedly and we could just stay home.” He sighed deeply, then put in headphones and stared out the window.

“Why isn’t he taking this mission?” your other group member asked. She stared at you, eager to know.

You had just met these two today (not even knowing their names, except that they were both Grade 1 sorcerers like you) and you weren’t sure how well this mission would go. “Well,” you began, “for one, he works best alone. Second, Satoru fights best when he’s away from civilians.”

The girl hummed, then crossed her arms in thought. The three of you awkwardly rode in silence for about five minutes, before the girl grabbed your arm suddenly. “Soooo, how long have you been dating Gojo Satoru?” She asked eagerly. There was something about her that seemed familiar, but you just couldn’t put your finger on it.

You weren’t sure why this was any business of someone you just met, but you decided to indulge her to hopefully make this awkward car ride, well, less awkward.

“Two years, almost three,” you answered. The two of you had known each other since high school, but it wasn’t until almost four years ago that you had reconnected after you moved back to Tokyo, and almost three years ago when you started dating. To this day you still had no clue why he would get a crush on you over all people. There were much prettier girls he had spent more time with, why you?

“Annnnd? A ring soon?” She gushed, gripping your arm harder.

You shrugged. Satoru and you had discussed marriage at some point, but both of you were busy at the moment, especially with Ryomen Sukuna being somewhat revived into the world. While Yuuji was still technically “dead” to others, Satoru had trusted you enough to tell you about how his student had pretty much been revived from the dead. On your days off, you often visited your boyfriend and helped out with Yuuji’s training regime. He was a nice kid, despite his circumstances and being thrown into the jujutsu world suddenly.

The girl let go of your arm and got out her phone, furiously typing to someone. “Oh, my little sister won’t be happy to hear about this.”

“Little sister?”

“Yeah, my sister Momo goes to Kyoto. She’s pretty close with another girl, Kasumi, who I consider almost like another younger sister. She was super excited to meet Gojo-san a week ago. She’s like a superfan of him or something. I like to indulge her sometimes. I think she even made a fan club for Gojo-san or something. Anyways, Momo, even though she’s friends with Kasumi, she often gets annoyed with her talk about Gojo-san.”

You vaguely remember Satoru mentioning a girl from Kyoto that asked him for a picture. It wasn’t exactly a rare occurrence for your boyfriend to be asked to take pictures with, from the jujutsu world or from civilians; he had devastatingly good looks, so you couldn’t blame any of the people who asked for pictures. Besides, you knew his heart belonged to you and you only, so you were fine with others recognizing his allure.

“Oh, Kasumi’s calling me,” the girl said. She answered her phone, only for a younger voice to scream over the speaker. It was loud enough that you could hear it. Your teammate held her phone away from her ear.

“What do you mean he has a girlfriend?”

“Oh, come on Kasumi. You know how handsome he is. Besides, he’s like, what, twenty-eight? Twenty-nine?”

“Twenty-eight, twenty-nine in December,” you confirmed.

“Way too old for you, ma’am,” the girl relayed to Kasumi.

“I don’t like him like that , Sumi-san! I j-just really admire him, okay! W-Who wouldn’t? World’s strongest jujutsu sorcerer in all.”

“Mhm. Anyway, I’ve got a mission today with the said girlfriend of Gojo Satoru. Want me to get you an autograph?” Sumi joked.

“...Could you?”

You let out a tiny laugh. This girl was funny, so you decided to humor her and leaned toward the phone. “One autograph for Kasumi?”

“M-Miwa Kasumi!” the voice on the phone squeaked out. She told you what kanji made up her name as you rummaged for a scrap piece of paper and pen from your bag. You made out the autograph, laughing a bit as you handed it to Sumi.

After you told her you signed an autograph for her, Kasumi said goodbye, hanging up the phone before Sumi could reply goodbye back. She seemed embarrassed about the ordeal.

“You were right, she seems like a good kid.”

“Kasumi is nice. She really balances out how serious my little sister Momo is,” Sumi responded.

For the rest of the car ride, you and Sumi chatted. Apparently, this was also her first Special Grade mission, as well as her first mission after graduating from Kyoto. Their other group member was also from Kyoto; he was two years Sumi’s senior. His name was Takahashi Daisuke. She didn’t know much about him since he tended to keep to himself. But she did know this wasn’t his first Special Grade mission. That relieved you substantially since you were nervous about this mission (as much as you didn’t want to admit to Satoru).

Eventually, the roads transformed from paved to just dirt. The driver turned onto a road on a hill, then began briefing the three of you on your mission. This was a Special Grade, suspected to be awakened by a Sukuna finger. This was just based on speculation, since the last Special Grade to pop up was from a Sukuna finger as well. The Special Grade had taken over an abandoned shrine, supposedly terrorizing the local village just down the hill (which had been evacuated just hours before). As the driver parked the car, the three of you exited the car. The air was crisp, with a distinct chill in the air. You could sense a particularly strong cursed energy in the premises, on par with Satoru’s cursed energy. You shuddered; this was not going to be an easy task.

The driver placed a curtain around the area, the sky darkening. It only made the situation seem even more grave. There was something in your gut telling you to run, not from being scared of the Special Grade, but because something bad was going to happen.

Sumi grabbed a wand from her belt. Her family was a pretty small sorcerer family on her mother’s side, as she had told you in the car. She and her sister have cursed techniques similar to “witches”; hers involved spells while her sister’s involved levitating a broom, among other objects.

Your cursed techniques, however, involved nature. There was a reason why you were selected specifically for this mission; the shrine was in the middle of the forest, the perfect place for you to go wild. Cities like Tokyo were incredibly constraining for you to use your cursed techniques, so you almost exclusively were assigned missions out in the country where nature was plentiful.

Neither you nor Sumi knew what Daisuke’s cursed technique was, but you assumed it was pretty strong considering he had been on missions with Special Grades before.

The mission started off fine. The three of you approached the shrine. It wasn’t particularly impressive, nothing that you would expect to house a Special Grade curse. The stone torii at the entrance was standing tall, unbothered by neither age nor the moss and vines growing on it. The shrine itself, however, was crumbling. One of the pillars holding up the roof was destroyed, so the roof was lopsided. The shimenawa knots were cut in half, the ends completely frayed. Definitely not a good sign.

After crossing the torii , you felt the Special Grade’s presence. It was overwhelming, unlike anything else you had experienced before. It possessed near-equal amounts of cursed energy as Satoru, but unlike your boyfriend, it held malicious intent within its cursed energy. To your left, Sumi was shaking. You held out a shaky hand onto her shoulder and squeezed. While you yourself didn’t feel confident about this mission now, you had a duty as the oldest member of the group here to be strong, for their sake.

The shrine began to shake, then the roof was suddenly blown off. You used your cursed technique to form a barrier of tree roots that erupted from the ground. Slabs of wood hit the roots, then bounced off. After the rain of wood subsided, you controlled the roots back into the ground in their original position.

You finally got a good look at the Special Grade curse. It was humanoid, but only in form. Its flesh was midnight blue, with eyes covering every centimeter of its body. Great, it had no blind spots. The curse had no apparent mouth, yet you were able to hear it let out an intimidating roar.

Daisuke made the first strike. He quickly pointed a handgun at the Special Grade and pulled the trigger. Out came a burst of his own cursed energy instead of a bullet. The blow just grazed the Special Grade enough for it to let out a screech of pain. Interesting, so this was his cursed energy. You wondered if it was limited to guns, or if he could apply it to a bow as well and use his cursed energy for arrows. You’d have to ask him later after this mission was completed.

It was apparent after Daisuke revealed his cursed technique that all of you were primarily distance fighters. There wasn’t much Sumi could do if her cursed technique focused on spells through her wand apparatus and Daisuke seemed to only have a gun on him. So, that meant you had to switch to a melee approach.

You weren’t the biggest fan of hand to hand combat. You weren’t very strong, preferring to assist from a distance. Recently, Satoru has been helping you learn new ways of fighting in close quarters. You decided to take the risk and make an attempt at using this still relatively new technique. You reached out your hands, summoning leaves from the trees. They surrounded your fists like boxing gloves, your cursed energy reinforcing the leaves to be almost as hard as the bark from the trees they came from.

You sprinted toward the Special Grade, preparing to land a blow. As you reared back for a punch, the Special Grade disappeared from in front of you. Then you felt a blow land on your back and you were sent through the forest until a particularly thick tree stopped your projectile body. Luckily, you reacted quickly enough to reinforce your front with cursed energy. If it wasn’t for your quick thinking, you probably would’ve been knocked out immediately.

You picked yourself up from the ground, but the world was spinning. You leaned against a tree to collect your thoughts and rest a bit. The Special Grade was insanely fast and had no blind spots. You were panicking; this was well out of your skillset. Perhaps Daisuke was right; Satoru should’ve joined in on this mission. But you knew that wasn’t possible, as he also had his own Special Grade mission to handle today.

You brought a hand up to your face and gave yourself a hard smack. This was no time to doubt yourself or panic. You had two comrades out there fighting a Special Grade curse alone. There was no doubt that the Special Grade would notice you if you tried to rejoin the fight, at least on the ground. Your best bet would be to get the high ground; there would be fewer eyes on the top half, so the chances of you being noticed would be less than if you arrived by foot.

Okay, you had an idea. Now, to get an idea of how the fight was going. You kneeled down to the ground and placed your hand onto the ground, closing your eyes. You sent a minimal, hardly detectable pulse of cursed energy toward the fight through the ground. From what nature informed you, the fight was mostly one-sided in favor of the Special Grade. Daisuke was pretty beat up, and Sumi wasn’t in good shape either.

You got up then hurriedly began climbing the nearest tree. As you climbed up, you manipulated the bark to form grooves for you to place your hands and feet on. As you reached a decent height, you created a bridge with the overlapping tree branches sturdy enough for your weight. You sprinted across the bridge, ignoring your double vision. You definitely had a concussion, but now was not the time for you to worry about that. You didn’t wanna lose your comrades on this mission. Not again.

You wiped the tears that were threatening to fall from your eyes. In your final year of Tokyo High, your two classmates were killed right before your eyes on a mission. You escaped out of pure luck, but was determined to get stronger to avenge their deaths. If you let those two die… well, then, that meant you hadn’t gotten strong enough to protect anyone else.

Once you were just out of sight range of the cursed spirit, you closed your eyes to sense the battle again. Sumi was sitting on the ground, back to a tree as she watched the fight between Daisuke and the Special Grade. She was barely conscious, and it seemed like she had lost a lot of blood. You had an idea, but in order for it to work, you needed her help.

Using thin vines, you sent a message within her sight: I am still alive. I’m going to trap the Special Grade curse with branches. Use a fire spell on it when it’s bound.

All you could hope was that she was able to read the message and had enough cursed energy to cast the spell. You began moving branches from distant trees close to the Special Grade, as fast as possible without your cursed energy being detected. Once they were close enough, you waited for the right moment.

As Daisuke finally landed a hit with his cursed energy, moving the curse to the center of the shrine remnants, you launched your attack. The branches extended as fast as you could make them move. The hit Daisuke landed had temporarily slowed the Special Grade, enough for your branches to immobilize it. As the branches gripped the curse, Sumi sent a fire spell toward it, just as planned.

The branches (and the cursed spirit) caught on fire. But something was wrong; normally, you could extract cursed energy from a curse with your cursed technique to exorcise, but that wasn’t happening. Was it resisting? You felt a tug on the branches.

Without thinking, you acted on your own. You re-equipped the leaves cursed technique, as you jumped from the trees above. As gravity brought you closer to the Special Grade, you reared back to prepare the punch you had wanted to introduce it to earlier. As your fist landed on the curse, you allowed the leaves to leave your fist, sending it into the curse’s body. The leaves caught on fire before they entered the curse, imploding it.

So, you managed to exorcise the Special grade. But, doing so took all of your cursed energy and you had no more left to cushion your fall. Luckily, you managed to adjust your fall so that you slid on your stomach parallel to the ground instead of falling headfirst. It still hurt, and you definitely broke a few ribs doing that.

You somehow had enough energy to turn yourself onto your back, looking up at the starry night sky as the curtain was released. Your first Special Grade mission. Everyone lived and you exorcised it without Satoru’s help. Ha. He would be so proud of you.

You began to fall into unconsciousness right as you felt familiar arms lift you up.

When you woke up, you were in Shoko’s infirmary. There was a thin blanket covering your bottom half. Suddenly the events came back to you.

You sat up, gasping for air. Where were Sumi and Daisuke?

“You might want to lay back down,” a familiar voice told you. “Shoko healed you, but the pain might still be there.”

You did as the voice said, laying back at the elevated position you woke up in. You look over and blinked a few times, seeing your boyfriend sitting in a chair next to your bed. He was in his work uniform, including his blindfold. You winced as you felt a pain in your chest; Satoru was right, there still was residual pain.

“I exorcised a Special Grade,” you croaked.

“I know. I’m proud of you.” He grabbed your hand and squeezed it, giving you a soft smile, showing off his tiny dimples. His smile quickly turned to a frown as he lectured, “However, what you did was risky and crazy.”

“Aren’t you the one who says that jujutsu sorcerers have to be crazy to survive?” you argued.

“Yes, but there’s a difference between crazy and throwing your life away.”

“You saw that?” you asked, much more awake than you were a few seconds ago.

“I hurried as fast as I could with my own mission to come assist you if you needed. I got there right as you pulled that stunt of yours.”

You pulled your hand from his and placed your face in both of your hands, embarrassed that he saw you launch yourself from several meters high, use up all of your cursed energy, then make a hard landing onto the ground.

“How’s the other two?” you asked, refusing to move your face from your hands.

“Alive and doing well. You’re the most beat-up out of everyone.”

You removed your hands, clasping them together in your lap. “Thank goodness…”

“There wasn’t a Sukuna finger either,” Satoru reported to you. “The villagers’ fear of the shrine must have caused it to grow to a Special Grade. Now, come on. Shoko said you could come home once you woke up.” Satoru stood up, then scooped you up from the bed. You screamed in protest, now wide awake.

“Wha--Put me down!”

“No can do, honey. Doctor’s orders. Nothing strenuous for the next week.”

“Satoru, I don’t think walking counts as strenuous!”

He smiled his signature shit-eating grin, then gave you a kiss on your forehead. No fair, he knew forehead kisses were your weakness. You melted into his arms at how tender his kiss was, now docile and less likely to argue with him.

In a flash, he teleported the two of you to his apartment, setting you on the bed in front of him. After placing you on the bed, he yanked off his blindfold and began rummaging through his dresser, looking for a set of his clothes for you to wear. He tossed the shirt and pants toward you, not even bothering to turn around while you changed. You’d been together for so long (or at least, it felt like a long time) that there wasn’t anything particularly embarrassing about changing in front of each other.

You winced while lifting your hands up to take off your shirt, so Satoru was by your side in an instant, helping you take off your shift without much pain. He even helped you out of your bra and put on his shirt.

“You don’t need me to help you with the pants, do you?” he teased.

“I think I can handle it on my own,” you replied, standing up and shuffling out of your pants. Satoru’s pants were much too long for you, so you had to roll not only the waistband but also the cuffs so that they didn’t constantly drag on the ground. Not like you minded doing that; there was just something about his clothes that was infinitely more comforting than your own, and he knew that more than anyone else.

As you adjusted the pants, Satoru left the bedroom to head toward the kitchen, no doubt to start cooking some of your favorite foods. You laid down on your shared bed, happy to be home. It was a long day (Days? How long were you even unconscious?) and you were glad to have such a caring boyfriend, even if he was being a little annoying about this.

About an hour later, Satoru came into the bedroom with a tray of food. He wouldn’t let you even touch the chopsticks, insisting on feeding you food because he didn’t want you to “strain yourself.” You thought he was just being a little too overprotective, but you allowed him to feed you anyway. The look of satisfaction on his face was just too cute for you to deny him this tiny pleasure.

After dinner, you immediately wanted to go to bed. Satoru quickly ate his portion of dinner then changed out of his work clothes into something much more comfortable to sleep in. He joined you under the covers, using his cursed energy to turn off the lights. You felt his arms gently snake their way around your waist, pressing you into his front. You sighed in contentment; he was warm, but not too warm.

After a few seconds of silence, you piped up, “Satoru?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you for taking care of me. I love you.”

He placed a gentle kiss on your neck, just behind your ear. “Anything for you, my love,” he breathed onto your neck. You could feel him smiling gently. “Maybe we should just get married.”

You grumbled something, not even quite sure what you said or even what he said completely. Before sleep overtook you, you mumbled out one last final “I love you,” incredibly happy to be in your boyfriend’s arms at the moment.

#gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #jjk x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen

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thelarriefics · 3 years

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HOLIDAY FIC REC, PART IV: Below you’ll find more fics that have to do with the holiday season.

📖 (I'm Dreaming of a) One Night Inn by @lululawrence (54k)

When everything Louis had planned for his life falls through, and on his birthday no less, he's left with no other option but to regroup and start over again. The road of life isn't always straight and it certainly isn't always easy, but sometimes it's those twists and turns that find you your closest friends and—if you're really lucky—the love of your life.

Louis just happens to be very lucky.

A Holiday Inn AU.

📖 Baby, Won't You Look My Way? by @peachbootylouis (50k)

Louis tiptoed to the door and opened it, looking over his shoulder for a moment. Harry looked absolutely gorgeous, almost enough to make him strip back down and give it another go. But that wasn’t who Louis was. So he sighed and stepped outside, leaving back to his flat. And for the first time in years, he felt alive.

Or the where Louis’ routine centered life runs like clockwork until a chance hook up throws a wrench named Harry into it all. But as it may turn out a change in plans could be what Louis has needed all along.

📖 Ideal: An Advent Fic by @iamasphodelknox (40k)

All Louis wanted was some god-damned time to write his novel. He didn’t expect to move his and Liam’s entire production of a Christmas variety show to a small inn in Vermont just before the holidays. He didn’t expect to save Niall’s inn. He didn’t expect Liam to fall in love. He definitely didn’t expect to fall in love himself. And he certainly didn’t expect it all to feel so much like a Christmas movie.

Oh hell. There’s a lot of things Louis didn’t expect.

A White Christmas au, complete with drama, fluff, choreographed dance numbers, and idiotic boys falling in love. Just your typical Christmas fun.

📖 The Happiest Season by @sadaveniren (37k)

“You’re going to spend Christmas - and your birthday - with his homophobic WASP parents? That’s gonna be hell.”

Louis closed his eyes in frustration. “It was either that or be apart and I don’t think that’s gonna be good for either of us this year, you know?”

A fic loosely based on Happiest Season but make it ... different

📖 maybe this christmas by @nobodymoves (34k)

Harry lives next door to Louis and babysits his daughter. He might be hopelessly in love with Louis and desperate to be part of his little family, but he’s ignoring that in favour of trying to make Louis’s busy life as easy as possible. When he finds out Louis and his daughter don’t believe in Santa - someone who is universally considered a real person - he makes it his mission to convince them. Along the way he takes in a man who may or may not actually be Santa, and everyone’s Christmas wishes might come true.

A Miracle on 34th Street AU.

📖 Retiens la nuit by @teamlouis2020 (26k)

Everything is too much for Harry. His exboyfriend, his job, his whole life actually. Flying across the globe to find a quiet place for Christmas holidays is exactly what he needs. Among a warm cottage and snow-covered fields, he doesn't expect to come across Louis, the beautiful stranger that stumbled into his house one night. Love isn't supposed to find a way to his heart, but Christmas has its magic tricks, hasn't it?

📖 Neither Wine Nor Dine by @brightgolden (25k)

With Louis’ fringe taking up half of his forehead and eyes crinkling at the side with how wide he grins just by looking at their Christmas tree, he looked so much like the 19 year old boy Harry met in the living room of his shared two-bedroom apartment years ago.

It's too bad that Harry doesn't get to see it often.

Where Harry is too busy travelling the world and Louis is home during Christmas.

📖 Baby, You're On My List by @chloehl10 (17k)

Harry takes his niece to see Father Christmas, but he doesn't count on meeting the cutest Christmas elf. Taken by the handsome stranger, Harry decides to recruit as many children as he can so he can see him again, and again, and again...

📖 The fic where Harry calls Louis an idiot for ten days straight because he is one. by @mercurial-madhouse (16k)

They’ve found the perfect get away from their busy lives as nationally-famous footie player and well-respected restaurant critic, escaping to the isolation of a cabin in the woods where they can simply be Louis and Harry.

If only both were actually here.

A gift forgotten in London, the untameable force of the weather, and the scent of burnt snickerdoodle biscuits find Harry and Clifford pitifully alone and Louis... Where is Louis?

📖 Unwrap My Heart by @larryficwriter (15k)

Harry is flabbergasted, that much is clear. He also looks emotional, understandably. A little excited shiver runs through Louis’ body because this is just the beginning.

“Harry,” Louis begins as soon as the song is over. “This begins 12 Days of presents that I have planned for you. Each day you’ll get another present from me that will hopefully show you that you mean the world to me.”

or, the 12 Days of Christmas: Larry Edition

📖 The Ideal Flatmate by @larryyouknow (12k)

Louis shares his flat with the ideal flatmate (or I-F as he often nicknames him). Harry is a bit younger and a bit taller than him. He’s polite and there is nothing to complain about. Harry rarely brings someone over, he isn’t loud, he eats at the table and when he uses the shared area for his crafting projects he always tidies after himself. Harry doesn’t bother Louis and he pays his share in time.

The ideal flatmate.

The only problem is: Harry hates Louis. This will be very lovely Christmas.

📖 Fine Lines by @harrystinysantashorts (11k)

The short story is there are two little, white sticks sitting on the bathroom counter with two little, pink lines on both of them. The long story is that that’s never happened before.

or, Harry gets the surprise of a lifetime and decides it’ll be the perfect Christmas present.

📖 Run to Me Through The White Night by @mizzhydes (8k)

A horrid last-minute shopping trip amidst a mass of teenage girls and their parents was not what Louis was hoping to get roped into two days before Christmas.

The day started out dreadfully, but fate had something different in store for Louis that day. A chance encounter between a famous pop star and an everyday lad, gave way to an evening that neither of them would ever forget.

📖 In Search of the Perfect Tree by @beanno28 (5k)

Harry and Louis work together at Home Depot and are also in a long term relationship. Harry is getting ready to get the store ready for the holiday season. When Louis decides he wants in on the action and their coworkers plan a tree off. Who wins and who loses? What happens when Harry has a secret up his sleeve?

📖 may your every wish come true by @cocoalou (4k)

“Harry, right? Harry Styles?”

Harry’s insides are screaming.

“Uh. Yes. Louis Tomlinson, yeah?” he replies, trying desperately to keep the manic smile off his face that he knows is already making an appearance because Louis remembers him (!!!!!), little ole Harry Styles; two years below, nerdy as all hell, and his friend’s dorky, younger brother.

Harry and Louis reconnect during the Holidays, it's kind of fate.

#holiday fics #holiday fic rec #hlsource

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ediths · 4 years

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Congratulations

Pairing: Baseball!Harry x Reader

Word Count: 4k

Summary: When Harry sees you ‘flirting’ with a guy at one of his games, you have to reassure him that you’re his and only his.

Warning(s): Flashbacks, bias, baseballrry, jealousy, argument, poorly written smut (face fucking) {the characters at the time of the smut are seniors in high school and are 18 years old}

A/N: This is my first completely written smut and it’s not even like, actual sex, but yeah. This is definitely the first one that I’ve ever posted, so please be nice :)). I am aware that it’s definitely awful, but I had an idea and I wrote it :)).

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Baseball players were obnoxious. They were loud and over the top in everything that they did. They were the only team at school that actually won anything, so they thought that they were the absolute best, and they would rub that in anyone’s face whenever they got the chance.

The part that made you hate them the most, however, was the fact that every single one of them is attractive. They were hot and they all knew it. This wouldn’t be so bad if they didn’t flaunt themselves and watch all the girls fall to their knees for them.

Well, mostly all the girls. You wouldn’t be caught dead with any of the baseball players. You made that abundantly clear every chance that you got, and most of them seemed to understand.

Actually, all of them understood except for one. The one you hated the most. The captain of the baseball team, the best looking one of all, Harry Styles.

He was as egotistical and narcissistic as they come. He watched girls fawn over him and made it into a joke. He would see how far he could string them along before breaking it off, only to see them fall apart.

He was a dick and you could not stand to even be in the same room as him. You rolled your eyes every time that he looked in your direction and you ignored him every time that he tried to talk to you.

Until the day that the worst thing that could have ever happened in Chemistry class unfolded.

It was the beginning of the second semester, which meant that everyone got a new lab partner. To everyone in the class, it made absolutely no sense, but Mrs. Madison was always going on and on about the fact that the class needed to make new friends and branch out more, Which, apparently, she thought would be accomplished by making you work with a random person for an hour every day while doing labs in the absolute worst subject in school.

Every attempt to complain about the changes, however, were completely futile. She didn’t have a single care in the world for the wants of her class, she just did what she wanted.

Which was apparently making your life a living hell.

She went through the roster, randomly assigning partners until she got to your name.

“Y/N Y/L/N and Harry Styles.” You tried your best to hide the grimace that had etched its way onto your features and the groan of frustration that was fighting to come out.You had looked over at him, hoping that he would complain and she would change partners, seeing as she had always had a soft spot for Harry, but to no avail. He had a wide grin on his face, as if hearing that sentence had made his week.

And so it started, the hour every day that would rarely be spent working, but more so to get to know one another better. At first, it had been him trying to get to know you better, but eventually, you had loosened up, had realized that if you were going to be stuck with him, then you might as well be civil.

“Come on, Y/N, just tell me something about you.” He had whined.

“What do you wanna know, Styles?” You could tell by the look in his eyes that you had caught him off guard. He had thought that he would have to work harder to get you to tell him something.

“Anything, anything at all.” He looked genuinely interested and you couldn't help but shake the feeling that maybe you were wrong about him. But that was absurd, right?

“I like photography and I write sometimes.” You had mumbled, hoping that he wouldn’t hear. Of course, he did hear it, every single word of it.

But he didn’t make fun of you like you had thought he would, he had just softly smiled at you, mumbled a “thanks” and then continued with the lab.

Weeks passed and every class period was getting easier and easier to attend, until one day, you found yourself actually looking forward to the class. You were absolutely perplexed. Who in their right minds actually looked forward to chemistry? You couldn’t fathom why your attitude had suddenly shifted. That is, until you walked into the classroom and saw him sitting there.

Who would’ve thought? Harry Styles was the reason that you were excited to come to chemistry. It had taken him mere weeks to tear down the walls that you had worked so hard to keep up.

It was like he hadn’t even tried. He had just been nice. And for the first time ever, you didn’t think that he had been doing it to use you. He had been genuinely nice and you had fallen for it. You had become just like every other girl in the school.

You had fallen for the boy with the pretty green eyes. It wasn't like you had just taken one look at him and fallen, though. That’s where you were different. It had taken you weeks. But it still happened nonetheless. He still ended up with you wrapped around his finger.

‘Now it’s just a matter of time before he uses it against me,’ you had thought to yourself before taking your seat next to him.

It had been two years since that day. You were now seniors and he had yet to use it against you. In fact, he had fallen for you before you had fallen for him and he was ecstatic when he found out that you had feelings for him.

He had been the perfect boyfriend for two years and counting. You couldn’t have asked for anything more.

Everyone thought he was the absolute perfect man, and really, he was. There was only one thing about him that you could ever complain about, and honestly, you couldn’t even call it a flaw.

Harry just had the tendency to get jealous. Of course, he trusted you. It’s just that he didn’t trust everyone else.

And that’s the exact reason that you’re in the situation with Harry that you are.

“Why him? You could’ve cheated with anyone, why’d you pick him?” He runs a shaking hand through his unruly curls that were still drenched with sweat. “You know how I feel about that piece of shit.” He stops for a moment, looking you in the eyes, and you can see the anger burning behind the jade irises. “That’s why you did it, isn’t it?” He accuses.

“Harry, for fuck’s sake. I didn’t cheat on you!” You throw your hands up in the air, frustrated by the fact that he won’t listen to you and hurt because he thinks you would actually do such a thing. “Why would I cheat on you? especially with him?”

“I don’t know!” He yells, not being able to contain it any longer. “Everyone fucking warned me, don’t get too attached to someone, you’ll get your heart broken.” He looks in your direction, but you can tell that he’s not actually looking at you. “What they never told me, though, is that I would fall so in love with someone only for them to rip my heart out of my chest and beat it repeatedly with a sledgehammer.” He’s back to pacing around the room, looking everywhere but you. “I told them all, ‘no, it’ll be fine. I love her. She loves me. We’ll be alright. That won’t happen.’ But maybe I was wrong. Maybe they had a point.”

“Will you please let me explain myself, H?” You try, wanting to get him to see the truth in the situation and not what he wants to see just because he hates Malachi. “Just let me tell you what happened and then we can talk, please.” You beg him. All you need is a few seconds and everything can be fixed. You can cuddle up to your loving boyfriend and put everything behind you. Or maybe you can congratulate him on the fourth win of the season, leaving his team undefeated.

He doesn’t seem to hear your question, though, and he mumbles something. At first, your brain doesn’t register what’s been said, but then you process. It hits you like a train, and you’re speechless for a moment. Everything that had been floating around in your head left the moment that you realized how he was really feeling.

Apparently, you go without saying anything for too long, being completely shell-shocked and all, so he repeats himself, thinking that you couldn’t hear him the first time. “Am I not good enough?” He finally stops pacing, looking up at you, and for a second, you wish that you had never faced him. There are tears in his eyes, threatening to spill onto his blotchy cheeks. He looks absolutely disheveled and your heart breaks at the sight. This wasn’t the first time that you had discussed this with him.

Harry wasn’t the arrogant guy that he pretended to be at school. He was insecure and he doubted himself in everything that he did. The only thing that made him feel like he was enough for anybody was you, and he thought that you were trying to leave him for someone else.

“Harry, baby.” You say, walking over to him and trying to grab his hands. “Listen to me please.”

He pulls away and spits, “Don’t call me baby.” You know he doesn’t mean it, he just pushes everyone away when he gets like this. He’d rather be alone than think he’s burdening anybody.

You take a deep breath in, trying to force the tears in your eyes to stay there and not spill onto your face. This was about him, not you. You had no right to shift the focus onto yourself by letting the tears fall. Not that he would blame you, he would drop everything to make you feel better, which is why you couldn’t cry right now. It was your turn to make him feel better.

“Harry, listen.” You say, grabbing his hand. “You’re everything. I could never ask for anyone better.” There’s nothing but truth in your voice, and you hope that he can hear it.

“Then why do you want him?” He asks, no longer sounding hateful, just hurt. He pulls his hand out of your grasp and you can tell by the look in his eyes that he’s too far into his insecurities for you to fix this with a sentence or two.

“I don’t. Harry, I don’t. I want you. And that’s what I was trying to tell him when you walked over.” You take his hand in yours again, holding tighter than last time, not wanting him to pull away again. To your relief, he doesn’t. He just let’s you guide him to the bed. You sit down at the end and pull him to sit beside you.

Once he’s settled, you raise a hand to his hair and push it out of his eyes, knowing that he hates when his hair falls into his line of vision. “Yes, he asked me out. Yes, he told me that I should choose him.” he stiffens and you can feel the anger coming back to his body, so you quickly continue, “But I didn’t. I didn’t choose him, because he isn’t you,” you slide into his lap, placing one knee on the bed on each side of him, straddling him. You cup his face in your hands and continue, “and you are the only,” you lean in and give him a quick peck, “one,” you lean in again, “that,” another, “I’ll” your lips linger slightly longer this time, feeling his arms wrap around your waist and pull you closer, “ever,” you’re back to quick pecks, “want.”

You move your hands from his face, letting them slide down over his neck and come to a rest on his shoulders.

You lean your head down, letting your lips find purchase on the taut skin of his jaw, leaving wet kisses down to the dip of his collar bones. Between every kiss, you murmur a praise to him.

“You’re so handsome, baby.”

“You deserve the world.”

“You’re so good to me.”

“Love you so much.”

“Look so good in that uniform.”

“Such a good baseball player, wanna reward you.”

At the last one, he pulls back slightly, scanning your face, ensuring that you’re not only doing this because you were arguing. “You sure, baby? Don’t have to do anything just because you think I’m mad.” He runs a hand down your back, letting you know that it’s fine if you don’t want to. The action sends shivers throughout your body.

“Wanna show you how proud of you I am, how much I love you. Would you like that baby?” You ask, waiting for him to approve, not wanting to push him if he really doesn’t want you to do anything.

After a moment of consideration, he nods his head, “Please, love.”

Your lips find their way back to his, immediately locking into a kiss. It’s not like the ones that you usually share. It’s not rushed. There’s no teeth knocking against one another’s, there’s no fight for dominance. It’s smooth and soft, tongues gliding together and seamlessly allowing your mouths to mold.

After a moment, you move slightly, allowing your lips to fall in quick succession all around his face, kissing every feature that you adore beyond comparison. Every detail that he seems to hate about himself.

You let your lips land on the dimples that make your heart flutter, the crinkles by his eyes that make your tummy erupt in butterflies, the freckles that make you want to run your finger over them for hours on end. You kiss every inch of his face, because his face is the most perfect one that you had ever had the pleasure of seeing.

Once you’re satisfied that his face has been moved on enough, you move down to his neck, nipping and sucking marks into his skin. He groans when you place an open mouthed kiss on a particularly sensitive spot and you smirk into his skin.

Usually, you would pay special attention to that spot, but that was never really for him. Sure, it felt good to him, but you just really loved the groans that would fall from his lips. So, you would drag out the time you spent adoring that single spot.

Today, however, was all about his pleasure. And you know that he hates the teasing more than anything. He doesn’t need the foreplay, the kissing and sucking all over his body. All that he needs is to see you on your knees, looking up at him through your lashes.

So, as you move down his neck, you begin to unbutton his baseball jersey. Once the final button is undone, you push it off his shoulders and look at the man in front of you. How you got lucky enough to be with him, you’ll never know.

You begin to kiss down his chest, paying slight attention to the places that you know make him tick. You know that he doesn’t need it, but you also know that they make him feel good, and that’s all that you want to do, make him feel good.

You continue making your way across his chest, kissing and licking. When you get to his nipples, you let your tongue run over them for a moment. You let your teeth gently graze over the peak, and his body jolts into you.

“Baby, please.” He whimpers. You look up at him, giving him a look of mock innocence as you make your way to his other nipple. You repeat your actions before moving down his torso.

You stop once again at his butterfly tattoo, letting your tongue run along the lines of it. He lets out a choppy breath, and you know he’s putty in your hands. You’ve got him right where you want him.

You make your way lower, yet again stopping at his fern tattoos. As you run your tongue across them, pausing slightly every now and then to nip at his hips, his hands rake through your hair, gripping on to the strands like they’re his tethers to reality.

“Not gonna tease you today baby, is that okay?” You murmur against his hip, knowing that you not having your mouth exactly where he wants you to be is killing him.

“Yeah, that’s fine baby just please, need your mouth so bad.” He begs, and you have no choice but to give him what he wants. You pop the button on his baseball pants, pulling both them and his boxers down his legs. Your breath catches in your throat at the sight of him, red and leaking. It’s not like you’ve never seen him before, he’s just so pretty in every aspect, and it seems to catch you off guard every time.

“You sound so pretty when you beg for me, H.” You all but whimper, letting your mouth move further down as he kicks his pants completely off.

You settle comfortably on your knees in front of him. You let your hands come up to the top of his thigh, scratching your nails down the skin.

He hisses, and you take his moment of distraction to lick the pearl of precum that has settled at the tip of him.

Just this simple action has him bucking his hips and letting out a broken whimper. You can’t help but smile, knowing that you’re the reason that he’s reacting like that.

When you peer up at him and see him looking at you with pure adoration, you take him in your mouth, sucking at the tip before bobbing further down. The hand in your hair clenches, like he’s trying not to push your head down as far as you can go. Like he’s trying not to make you choke on him.

You pull off of him and revel in the whimper that escapes his mouth. “Do you want to fuck my face baby?”

He chokes out a groan, nodding his head slightly. You reach for his other hand, which had been clenched tightly in a fist by his side, and place it in your hair alongside the other one. He shoots you a wary glance that quickly dissipates as you say, “Then do it. Please, H.”

He lets out a light chuckle. “Who’s begging now?”

He doesn’t give you time to answer. He pushes back into your mouth, and you can’t help but moan. Him having you like this is one of your favorite sexual activities with him.He starts slow, easy. It’s always like this. He uses shallow thrusts to give you time to adjust to the experience.

Little by little, though, he pushes deeper. He can’t help it, really. You’re just so wet and warm. You feel like heaven to him.

You hollow your cheeks, slowly moving your tongue along the underside of him, feeling the veins running across the muscle.

“That’s it, baby, feel so good for me.” He groans, pushing your head down further, causing you to slightly choke, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat.

He pulls your head back, just as he does every single time, and asks, “Are you okay, lovie?”

Your heart swells, but you’re too impatient to dwell on it, you want him back down your throat. “I’m perfect. Now please, please let me make you feel good.” You stick your tongue back out and he places the tip of his dick on your muscle.

The only warning he gives you is a slight nod before he pushes back down your throat, immediately setting a brutal pace, hips snapping forward as he pulls your head towards his hips by your hair.

You can feel the ache beginning to settle in your jaw and the burn in the back of your throat. You know that you won’t be able to comfortably talk for the next few days, but it was always worth it.

“Look at you baby, taking me so well.” He groans, praising you.

The spit was pooling in your mouth, as it always does, and you know that sooner rather than later, you’ll be making an absolute mess of yourself.

He pushes all the way to the back of your throat, and you feel yourself gag, but you know that he won’t let up before he feels like it, so you push your gag reflex down and do your best to breathe through your nose.

“Yeah, baby. That’s it. Taking all of me like a good girl.” He brings his hand down to your throat, squeezing at it gently, just adding a little bit of pressure.

You moan around him, and that’s when the spit begins to fall, covering your chin. He smiles down at you, mumbling something about you being his messy little baby and continues to thrust into your mouth.

The only thing that you can taste is him, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. You can feel every vein, every ridge of his cock against your tongue. You can also feel the way that he’s twitching in your mouth, how every thrust is bringing him closer and closer to his end.

You hollow your cheeks around him and suck a little harder. You hear him groan from above you and his hips stutter.

He’s a lot closer than you thought he was.

You double your efforts, moving your head along with him, holding his cock all the way in your throat for longer than you had been, sucking a little harder on the tip when he pulls back.

He’s being unapologetically loud, moaning and groaning about how good you are for him, and you can’t help but be proud. You made him that way.

Seconds later, you can feel the first string of his release. He goes to apologize and pull out of your mouth, but you slightly shake your head and grab his thighs. You know how hot he thinks it is when you swallow.

You take everything he has to offer before swallowing every last drop. When you stand back up, you open your mouth and stick your tongue out, showing him that there’s nothing left.

He groans and pulls you closer, catching your lips in a heated kiss. This time, it’s complete teeth and tongue.

“Want me to make you feel as good as you made me feel, love?” He asks.You just shake your head. He looks offended, so you quickly elaborate. “I congratulated you for winning baby, that was a one way thing. Don’t need you to do anything for me, I’m okay.”

“You sure?” You smile at how persistent he is. He’s just as eager to please as you are.

“I’m sure.” He nods, dragging you onto the beg to cuddle with him.

“I’ll just pay you back another time, then.” He promises. You roll your eyes.

“It’s not something to pay back, H.”

“Fine then, I’ll give you head randomly just because I want to. Or maybe next time you do good on a test. Anytime really.” He chuckles.

“Alright, alright. Can we go to bed? I’m tired.” You whine. He just looks over at you and smiles, pulling you close and placing a kiss on your lips.

“Night, baby.”

“Night night.”

Okay so I tried hehe. Thank you for reading!! Come talk to me if you wanna :)))

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paper-n-ashes · 3 years

Text

sparks and embers - chapter 3

Characters: Poe Dameron x Original Female Character, Kylo Ren x Original Female Character

Story Tags: Explicit (18+), Canon Compliant/Divergent (Set after TLJ), First Person POV, Love Triangle, Slow Burn, Enemies to Lovers, Porn with Plot, Hurt/Comfort, Kylo Ren hates Poe Dameron

Chapter 3 - The Return

Words: 4k

Chapter Tags/Warnings: medical descriptions and procedures, some sexual themes - mainly in the form of OC being thirsty AF

Read on AO3 or Start from the beginning

On the way back from the East village, filled with the Gossams, humans and other alien species who had similarly escaped to a simpler life, I couldn’t help but curse at myself for giving in so easily to the pleas of a good-looking stranger.

Aiding someone merely for their physical appearance? How horribly unprofessional.

The voice in the back of my mind was loud. And curiously judgemental.

It had been over a full day cycle since I’d departed the clinic, making Poe vow to remain within the confines of his bed until I had returned. I’d left him with enough food for two days of my travelling, hygiene supplies, a drip running slowly for some pain relief and range of tools for him to attempt getting BB-8 up and running, hoping he wouldn’t have any reason to struggle getting out of bed.

The thought of his still fragile femur bone breaking and splitting the artery I’d spent all my energy on mending was beyond frightening. I worried about him every minute I was awake, imagining any number of complications that would leave me a corpse to find when I arrived back.

Bleeding, clots, stroke, infection, sepsis.

It wasn’t easy to slip those thoughts from my mind in the lone starkness of the Raxus countryside. There wasn’t really anything to look at except grass and sky, nothing to distract me from the worst case scenarios.

I’d convinced some of my old patients to join my cause, promising them better medicine and equipment if I was only able to have a comm-tower to order everything I needed. It didn’t seem like lying. The comm-tower really was my only link to the rest of the galaxy, and I would have needed it fixed anyway. Only now, time seemed to be more of the essence.

After spending the night amongst the locals I had grown to be familiar with over the last few years, I’d begun the trek back with the knowledge at least one problem had been solved. Some promised spare parts, others were going to follow my path within the next day cycle to get my comm-link back online. I hadn’t divulged all the story, at least not the part about this repair job apparently being a determining factor in the fate of the galaxy.

I hadn’t pressed Poe about what that meant exactly. I was used to the Resistance and their soldiers having somewhat of a flair for the dramatic when it came to war, after healing many of their battle wounds in years past. I knew how fervently they believed in their cause - that they were the only thing standing between galaxy wide harmony and First Order dictatorship.

I understood their hope of peace in our lifetime, but I’d lost mine a long time ago. Good, bad, they were just two sides of a coin that would flip for eternity, desperately chasing power for their own reasons.

In truth, I didn’t particularly care. I just hoped to live my life somewhat free from the burden of picking a side.

Before unlocking the clinic door, my feet aching from hiking for 6 straight hours, I drew in a long breath with a silent prayer I wouldn’t be walking in to find a dead body. With a fluid motion I turned the handle and pushed the door open, my head popping in first around the entryway to where Poe’s hospital bed stood. He immediately heard the latch clicking and shot his head up to meet with my eyes.

“You’re back,” he smiled, as I noted how much colour had returned to his face during my absence.

He looked so much better.

For the first time, I found myself studying his face, my stare tracing from his strong angular jawline to his high cheekbones, the prominence of his nose, the whiskey colour of his large cheerful eyes, his tousled deep brown hair. Then I took in his wide grin, shapely pink lips curled upwards to show perfectly set white teeth.

Stars, he’s so handsome.

In the muddle of memories I’d conceived from the night of his crash I’d not recognised, at least not during the time I was struggling to keep him alive, how attractive he was. And now with his health a far better picture than the last time I’d seen him, it was all I could notice. My heart quivered through a beat as he beamed at me, soon realising his smile was more a reflection of the prospective good news I brought with my return, making it settle back into a normal rhythm.

“Hi,” I breathed, walking closer and setting my pack down at the foot of the hospital bed. “How are you feeling?”

“Better,” he answered, “The smaller burns are almost gone, and my chest wound is closed, look!” He pulled up the grey hospital shirt I’d managed to change him into before I had to leave. This time when I saw the nakedness of his chest and abdomen I couldn’t help but stare at his softly defined muscles, all tensing during his movement. He was right, the hole below his rib now sealed, a newly-formed, pink scar in its place. The chest tube was still secured above it, now redundant.

“Gotta love bacta,” I hummed. “I can take that drain out now if you like.”

He looked at me incredulously. “You’ve just done a 30 hour round trip for me, not even sat down, and you want to dive head first into more treatment?”

“I... uh... I mean... I just wanted to help you feel better,” I stammered.

Poe shook his head, smirking. “It’s okay, I appreciate it. Really, I do. But I’m alright, the tube can wait. How about you rest for a second and tell me how the mission- I mean, trip, went?”

I raised an eyebrow. “Two days ago you were begging me to get going so I couldn’t waste any time, now you’re telling me I can take a load off?”

"Uh, yeah… Sorry about that,” he grimaced. “Having some time to think while you were gone... It made me realise everything you’d done and were doing for me - a stranger you had no reason to help." Poe took a long exhale before speaking again, his tone serious. "I was in a lot of pain, just woken up in a strange place. It’s still imperative to get a message back to the Resistance as soon as possible but... that’s not your burden to bear. I can't thank you enough for your help, but I'll try not to ask too much more of you.”

It seemed not only had his physical health improved, but logical thought and patience had returned.

I took my cue to sit on one of the opposite hospital beds, letting my feet dangle over the edge to kick my shoes off, feet pulsing with gratitude at their release. “There’s some villagers coming tomorrow,” I started. “They will hopefully have a new comm-tower up and running within the next couple of days. I told them about your droid too. There’s some spare parts in that bag.” I pointed my hand out to the satchel at Poe’s feet, glancing at the L shaped table beside his bed I’d set up. BB-8 was sitting on top of it, head and body still separated and now unbolted at separate points, wires haphazardly sticking out in different directions. Falling back into the mattress, I let out an exhausted sigh, relishing the feel of the squeaky mattress under my body.

“I really owe you. The Resistance owes you,” Poe praised after a few moments of silence, as I heard him begin to rummage through the satchel. I held back a frown, even when I knew he wouldn’t be able to catch sight of my face.

I didn’t do any of this for the Resistance.

It occurred to me then I wasn’t really sure why I’d done it at all. I had always been a sucker for those in poor predicaments, hence why I became a doctor in the first place. But the trek had nothing to do with treatment or medicine. It was purely at the behest of this pilot, who’s charming appearance in the dimmed orange light of the evening made my skin feel hot.

“So, how did a girl like you find herself in the middle of nowhere on the Outer Rim?” Poe questioned, fiddling with some of the parts.

I sat back up. “I’m not a girl. I’m 28. That’s a little too old to be called girl anymore.”

Poe chuckled, the sound of his laugh both warming and positively thrilling. “I apologise. How did a woman like you end up here?”

“I used to work on Coruscant, that’s where I started my medical training,” I explained, remembering the glittering planet I’d spent much of my young life on. “Then moved into the war relief efforts on medical frigates scattered throughout the galaxy. Treating wounded soldiers day in day out took its toll, having people constantly injured and almost dying for a war they didn’t start.” I glanced to Poe's expression, seeing a glow of understanding behind his eyes before I continued. “Plus, there were more than a few times I felt a little redundant. The medical droids they have kind of... made my treatment obsolete. I wanted to practice medicine in a place where adequate health care was rare or non-existent. I wanted to help those who were most desperate, who otherwise couldn’t afford it, those who would actually value the care of a live human doctor. So I picked a planet at random, and settled here."

The random part was an utter lie. No one had cared about Raxus since the Clone Wars, and the First Order wouldn’t make it their priority to conquer Outer Rim worlds for a while yet. It was a quiet, calm planet with countless refugees fleeing here to make peaceful new lives. They wouldn’t be concerned about old, rusty equipment, lower quality bacta or no medical droids. They would simply be happy at having a doctor within a day’s trek.

And no one would think of looking here for a Force user.

Poe studied me in quiet thought for a moment, taking in what I’d divulged. “Well, they're damn lucky, with how nicely you patched me up. You’d run circles around some of the doctors and medical droids at the Resistance base.” He grinned at me again, earnestly, another attempt to thank me for my work. I felt the pit of my stomach tense, and it wouldn’t retreat, the thought of his smile lingering in my mind even after he’d gone back to his tinkering.

It had to be because I’d been in isolation for so long, why I was reacting so strongly to the innocent smiles and compliments of a man I barely knew. I definitely wasn’t used to conversing with men so close in age to my own. Most of the local humans were older, married with children, and I rarely made conversation around any other topic than their illnesses.

“What... uh... Why were you flying over Raxus?” I asked awkwardly.

His eyebrows creased together as he looked back at me. “Raxus wasn’t my destination, but I... can’t tell you any more than that.”

“Oh…”

“It’s not that I don’t trust you,” he urged. “It’s just, you know, highly confidential.” He seemed apologetic, like he owed me more of an explanation.

I nodded, agreeing the less I knew about the Resistance and their missions the better. “Well, you’ll be able to get back to it in a couple of days,” I insisted, breaking the awkward silence that had lingered. “Some time and a little bit more bacta and you’ll be like new again.”

“Actually, speaking of that,” he started, an uneasy expression now settling in his features. “I was wondering when you were thinking of letting me get out of this bed.”

“Depends on the reason Poe. I’d recommend starting your formal rehab tomorrow at the absolute earliest, otherwise we can get you up and walking if you need to do something… uh… specific.” There was no hiding the waver in my voice.

He laughed, louder than he had before, the sound making it difficult for me not to blush. “Aren’t you a doctor? Why are you embarrassed for me to use the bathroom?”

“Hey!” I frowned. “I was trying to save you from being embarrassed.”

He shook his head, still chuckling. “I’m alright on that front for now. I was actually hoping to use your refresher. It’s been a few days…”

“Oh of course!” I’d cleaned him up as much as I could before I’d left, getting rid of his obliterated flight suit and helping change into the bland hospital outfit I reserved for overnighters, but even to myself the idea of a shower was enticing.

A thought flashed into my mind of steaming water hitting Poe’s sun darkened skin, trickling down his toned body as he lathered himself in soap suds.

Woah.

Okay.

That was new.

It had been such a long time since I’d felt the fire of blood rushing to the lower portion of my abdomen, insides clenching at the heat so suddenly ignited.

Poe was looking at me expectantly, waiting for me to continue. I internally shook away the incriminating thoughts before they could be conveyed on my face. “How about I get that chest tube out first? Then I can help you to the ‘fresher?”

He breathed out in relief. “That would be fantastic.”

I stepped lightly off the hospital bed, walking shoe-less over to my medical trolley to drag it back to Poe’s side. And immediately, without me asking, he sat up and began a haphazard attempt to pull off his shirt, left arm bandaged and stiff, right arm enveloped in the cast I’d made and evidently still painful to move.

In a wordless reply, I helped him pull the fabric over his head, confronted with the image of a half-naked, strikingly handsome man in front of me.

I couldn’t believe I hadn’t recognised any of his raw allure when he’d been almost stripped completely bare by my own hands on the night of his crash. It seemed bizarre I wouldn’t have noted the strong, broadness of his shoulders, his armoured chest littered deliciously with dark hair, carved abdominal muscles tensed in waiting.

I swallowed hard, hoping Poe wouldn’t register my shaking hands as I prepared the tube removal kit. Snipping the sutures around the plastic, unsteady gloved fingers pulled out the tube as smoothly as I could manage, Poe flinching slightly at the sensation. He continued to look away as I injected some bacta gel into the wound, sealing it closed with a few new sutures and placing a waterproof dressing over the site.

“All done,” I settled. “Like nothing happened at all.”

Poe looked back to me and smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. It was obvious he remained troubled by the memories of his crash, and understandably so. I’d seen the same look in many other military personnel, the attempt to put on a brave face when images of fire, blood and terror pierced their thoughts. I desperately wanted to take his mind to a brighter place. “So, ready to try walking?”

“Absolutely! Lead the way doc.”

Ugh. Eventually I would have to correct him on that.

I stepped back from the side of the bed, arms stretched in readiness for when he inevitably stumbled. “Please take it slowly. Your muscles aren’t going to be pleased with what you’re doing after over two days of bed rest.”

“Sure thing,” Poe scoffed.

Typical male.

Initially he seemed to take my direction, moving his legs slowly from under the blanket, pain now registering on his features. He swivelled himself sluggishly to let his legs fall over the side of the mattress, breathing slightly heavier to push through the discomfort.

He was leaning more on his left side, right arm hovering over his thigh. Tentatively, he slipped his left foot onto the floor and shifted his weight onto it, pushing his hand into the mattress to help himself up.

Soon he was standing in front of me for the first time since we’d met, and even amongst all the burns, bruises, dressings and bandages, he looked impossibly strong, toned muscles wrapping his form.

He noticed the timid smile form on my lips.

“Hey don’t start laughing at me. I don’t think I could handle my ego being bruised along with the rest of me.”

“Oh... I wasn’t-,” I stumbled, quietly relieved he’d misread the reason behind my smirk.

He held his hand up in protest, grinning. “I was kidding. You’re welcome to laugh at the adult sized toddler learning to walk again.”

It was difficult not to snicker at his words. “Come on,” I encouraged. “Just think of how nice that hot water will feel.”

He sighed in agreement and moved, taking a hesitant step onto the previously fractured leg. I swiftly froze with anxiety, even when the logical side of my brain told me both the break and the artery would have stabilised exponentially by now. But the emotional side, the part that remembered the rush of blood that had exploded from the wound site, nagged incessantly at me, insisting that this was a very bad idea.

My eyes were glued to Poe’s figure as he shifted his weight deliberately, muscles tensing at the trigger of pain he was likely feeling, before he made a delicate hop to move back onto his left leg.

Even that one haggard step appeared to take a lot out of him, but he seemed determined, eyebrows already wrinkled in concentration. He continued the process a few times over, my arms still poised in waiting for the foreseeable stumble as I walked backwards. I couldn’t help but hold my breath as he limped, following me out of the clinic room into the hallway that lead to my office, the ‘fresher, and my living quarters all the way at the end.

His steps became faster, more confident, when all of a sudden, his balance wavered.

Reacting quickly, I stepped forward to catch him, arms circling under his own and around his torso, hands now gripping the muscles on his back as he crashed into me. I would have stayed there for a moment, my fingertips registering the warmth radiating off his skin, until I became fully aware where his face had fallen into.

I felt Poe’s heated exhale through the cotton of my white shirt after his face had collided into my chest, directly between my breasts. The twinge in my lower abdomen occurred again, breath hitching in my throat.

He scrambled to push himself back into a standing position, my arms releasing from around him, his hands clamping around my biceps as he fought to reclaim his steadiness again.

“I am so sorry!” he blurted, his face dangerously close to mine, only a small touch of redness visible under his caramel skinned cheeks. I knew my blushing would be much more pronounced.

“It’s okay,” I breathed. “I was waiting for that to happen.”

His eyes widened.

“Not that!” I yelped. “I meant you falling! I was waiting for you to fall!”

Poe’s face illuminated into a beaming grin. “Sure you did.”

I frowned in protest, but couldn’t stop the chuckle escaping. I shifted to face the same way as him, an arm curling around his torso, angling my body under his own. “How about I help you the rest of the way?”

His hand gripped onto my shoulder, the hardened squeeze making the tensing inside me ripple even faster.

Focus Alex.

Poe let me support him as he limped down the hallway, and I desperately tried to distance myself from the thoughts that swirled in my mind at being connected so closely.

Eventually we made it into the ‘fresher, a white and grey tiled room with the large, frameless shower enclosure taking up most of the space, the only privacy a plastic curtain that could be pulled across the entire spans of the room. I’d designed it with the idea there would be enough space to assist overnighter patient’s in washing themselves, since I didn’t have a nurse to do it for me. Yet, it still gave me the ability to provide some discretion by stepping out past the other side of the curtain, ready to swoop in if I was needed.

And that’s what I’d planned for Poe, knowing he was hardly the type of patient that was going to let me do anything for him if he could help it. Guiding him to the backless shower chair, I released him to his own devices and quickly pulled the curtain across. It was more for my own concealment at this point, needing to take a moment to settle myself down, the memory of his hold still lingering on my skin.

“I’ll be right here if you need any help okay? Everything you need will be on the shelf under the shower start button.”

“Thanks Alex,” he answered, his voice huffing out as I could hear he’d already started to shimmy down his pants.

Stop imagining it Alex. Stop thinking about him naked, a metre away, behind that thin curtain.

The sound of water rushing into the tile floor pulled me back into some impression of reality. I busied myself with organising my own hygienic supplies in the mirrored cupboard, desperately trying to think of anything other than the man hidden from my view, steam swirling around his figure, water dribbling down his bare skin. From behind the screen I heard a pleasant moan leave him, obviously enjoying the hot water battering into his aching muscles for the first time in days.

And with that sound I felt a twinge between my legs, heat swelling and rippling outwards through my body.

Stars, that was... hot.

It felt so unprofessional, to be tantalized by the thought of a man, a patient, in the middle of such a basic act of human hygiene. But I couldn’t deny he was more attractive than any patient I’d ever had in my life, and the thought of ripping open the curtain so I could join him was suddenly the most tempting thing in the galaxy.

I locked my hands onto the basin that stood in front of me, trying not to be overwhelmed by the sound of Poe lathering soap between his hands, then sliding over an unseen portion of his body.

It was then I started to pace, hoping the repetitive movement would stop me ruminating over the indecent notions my mind was conjuring. Minutes ticked by too slowly as I waited for him to finish his routine, begging for the irresistible pull of craving to be released from me.

“Hey Alex?” Poe suddenly called.

“What's wrong?” I squeaked, cursing at myself for sounding so startled.

“I actually need some help.”

Oh maker, why do you do this to me?

I swallowed hard. “Y-yeah. Sure. Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” he began, voice sounding a little forced. “It’s just... with my left arm still bandaged, and my right arm still in the cast, I can’t wash my hair. I know it’s a little strange, but could you help me out?”

My heart ricocheted inside my rib cage, frolicking at the thought of seeing him soaked in water, fingers raking through his dampened hair.

Come on Alex, try to keep at least one shred of professionalism.

“Sure,” I agreed, a more competent tone saturating my voice as I withheld my internal fluttering. “Make yourself… uh… decent, and I’ll open the curtain.”

I heard Poe’s movement as he reached for one of the towels hanging on the rail nearby and wrapped it around his lower body. The flowing water soon came to a stop, the sudden silence making me feel uneasy.

“Ready.”

I placed myself in front of the curtain between us, his stature only barely visible through the clouded screen. My jaw was locked as I took a deep breath through my nose, meditating in thought, frantically clawing at a sense of calm.

Then I reached towards the plastic, clenched my hand around it, and pulled.

Next Chapter

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junghosunshine · 4 years

Text

Shut In

pairing: Kim Taehyung X reader

word count: 4k+

summary: Without a place to stay after you are kicked out of your dorm amidst the Coronavirus outbreak, you have no choice but to stay with Kim Taehyung (the son of one of your moms friends whom you have never met). You worry that it will be awkward but you are pleasantly surprised by the bond you end up forming with the overly welcoming man.

warnings: Smut, Fluff, overprotective, slightly dom!tae, mentions of covid19 and quarantine, age gap (5 years), unprotected sex (please use protection guys)

notes: This was written to calm me down while being stuck in my house in no way am I trying to offend anyone. Please go easy on me i’m sensitive :)

_______________________________________________________________________

You should probably be thankful that you have somewhere to stay during quarantine but at this particular moment you were dreading the next few weeks.

“Mom, why can’t I just stay in a hotel?” You asked over the phone. You knew you were being irrational and that this was much better than paying a hundred dollars a night (even if you would feel much more comfortable). Ever since your classes had been canceled, you had been living in the dorms at your college but they had begun to kick students out. Going to school overseas seemed like such a fun idea, and it probably would have been, but because you were in another country during the corona virus outbreak, there was no way you could get home especially with the travel restrictions. You had called your mom sobbing, worried that you would be homeless through the pandemic in a country you barely knew. Luckily, within an hour your mom had reached out to one of her friends who had a son living in Seoul and you suddenly had a place to stay. “Mom, that is going to be so weird. I don’t know him and now I’m going to live with him. Alone. For who knows how long?!”

“Y/N, I’m not paying money for you to stay in a hotel when there is a perfectly good, free place for you to stay. This is the only option.”

You gave in knowing your arguments were useless against this woman. You just wanted to go home and see your family and to be honest you were scared at how big this whole thing had become.

“Okay. Stay safe mom. Love you.”

“I love you too sweetie. Be careful and make sure you thank Taehyung for giving up his space.”

After you hung up with your mom you felt a bit empty. This much change in only a few days was a lot to take in and processing it all was near impossible. ‘Its going to be okay’ you told yourself.Your had mom told you that Taehyung was 24 and she had seen him a few times when he had just been born but didn’t know much about him other than that he apparently worked as a graphic designer for a popular art company. She had gone to college with his mom and they had been very close until mom moved to the US after college. Regardless of your mom’s connection, it felt awkward to be moving into some complete stranger’s space.

——————————————————————————————————————————

Pulling up the email your mom had sent you, you found the address to Taehyung’s house and his phone number. Sighing, you forced yourself to send him a text to let him know you were coming to his place.

To: XXX-XXX-XXXX

iMessage: Hi, this is Y/N… my mom just sent me your address. I should be there in about an hour. Thanks for letting me stay with you.

You put your phone back in your pocket and gathered you bags. Struggling to stand upright you wobbled out of your dorm and made your way to the subway.

Thanks to the virus the subway was not crowded and you had a place to rest all of your stuff. Once you sat down your phone vibrated and you pulled it out to see a response from Taehyung.

iMessage: Y/N, it is my pleasure! My mom told me to treat you well since you are her best friend’s daughter. Ill see you soon!

He was sweet. You felt yourself relax a bit. Maybe it wouldn’t be as awkward as you had thought it would be. You certainly hoped you were right otherwise this was going to be the most uncomfortable period of time you have ever experienced.

Once you were off the subway you lugged your bags up to the street level. Looking around your confidence wavered a bit. You had only been living in Korea for the last few months for college and while you went out a lot but you rarely ventured outside of the college area. The fact that there was no one outside made it even harder because you couldn’t ask anyone for directions. Oh no, there was no way you were going to find his building. You typed the address into Maps and attempted to both hold all of your stuff and navigate.

You were having very little luck and you were afraid your phone was going to die if you continued like this. As you stopped to calm yourself down, your phone rang.

“Hello?”

“Y/N?”

“Oh hi, is this Taehyung?”

“Yeah, Im just calling to make sure you’re okay. You said you’d be here in an hour two hours ago and my mom would kill me if anything happened to you.”

“Oh… Uh…” As much as you didn’t want to cry you couldn’t help yourself. It had been a long few days and the fact that you couldn’t even navigate was infuriating. “Im a little lost.” You managed to say through tears.

“Are there any restaurants or stores near you?” He asked. Looking around you found you were next to a pet store.

“There is pet store near me and I’m right across from a park.”

You heard shuffling from his end of the line. “Okay,” He said finally. “Wait there I’m coming to get you.”

——————————————————————————————————————————

Exhausted, you sank to the ground and rested your head on your knees. It was embarrassing that Taehyung had to go out of his way to find you before you had even met him. He probably thought you were incompetent. And it was even worse that there was an outbreak going on.

Only a few minutes had passed when a black Hyundai pulled up next to you. A guy got out and walked toward you.

“Y/N?” You looked up at him as he came to a stop above you. You nodded and embarrassed yourself by pouting a little. Something you did at home when you were sad or angry. You noticed immediately how striking he was with dark hair that fell into his eyes. He was distractingly handsome and as you stood up, you noticed, very tall as well. Taehyung smiled warmly and reached for your bags. “Go sit in the car, i'll load these in the back.” You complied grateful that he didn’t seem upset with you. He loaded your bags into the trunk and returned to the drivers seat.

“Im Tae by the way.” You took his extended hand.

“I am so sorry for inconveniencing you like this especially now. I promise i’ll make it up to you. I’m not usually this helpless.” Taehyung chuckled. “No problem. I’m glad I had an excuse to go out one last time before the lockdown.” You blushed at his kindness and were relieved when he began to drive.

Taehyung’s apartment was very clean and well decorated. You could immediately tell he was into art as his walls were covered in it. It was an open concept and the living room was only separated from the kitchen by a large kitchen island. He led you across the flat to a door on the far side, opening it to a small bedroom. It looked as if it had never been used and it smelled very clean. There was a large window overlooking the city and you gasped at how pretty it was.

“I’m glad I finally have someone here to use the guest bedroom. It was getting kinda lonely here.” It was shocking how welcoming he was considering you were dumped on him at the last possible moment.

“Thank you so much.” You walked in and he helped place your bags on the bed before leaving you to unpack.

That night, He made you dinner. It was so odd since it had been months since you’d eaten like a normal human. College life was certainly not luxurious. He waited for you to take the first bite and hum with pleasure before he was satisfied enough to eat.

“So, you were attending college here.” He said. You nodded. “Yeah I’m in my second year at Yonsei. Er- was.”

“This virus is kinda fucking things up isn’t it?”

“Yeah, Im kinda pissed off that I can’t even see my family during it.” Taehyung nodded. “Well I’m lucky that you are keeping me company right now.” You coughed and he watched amusedly as you tried to cover up your awkwardness by taking a sip of water.

“How old are you?” He asked you. “Nineteen.” You replied. He smiled a secret smile before taking another bite of his food.

“Thank you so much for dinner.” You said when you had both finished. He shrugged like it was nothing. “Im happy to do it.”

You tried to help him with dishes but he insisted that you get some rest after your long day.

——————————————————————————————————————————

Usually you woke up around seven the morning so that you could get started on the day but with nothing to do, it seemed a bit unnecessary. Still, your internal clock was hard to reset so despite your empty schedule, you were up. You assumed that Taehyung was probably asleep so you made your way into the kitchen and put on some hot water for tea. This was a ritual of yours. That you had been taught by your mother.

Unconsciously you began humming and you didn’t notice that Taehyung had exited his bedroom or that he was standing shirtless at the kitchen island smiling as he watched you work. You looked cute with your little shorts and oversized t-shirt he was going to have a hard time not thinking about that all day. Turning, you let out a yelp when you saw him, spilling hot tea on your had and causing the mug to break on the ground.

Taehyung immediately rushed over to you and grabbed your wrist before you could pick up any of the pieces of ceramic. “Are you hurt?” The way he looked at you with so much concern made your cheeks flush.

“No, I’m fine, I just got a little surprised.” He chuckled and continued to hold your wrist “Sorry, I didn’t want to disturb you, you looked like you were meditating.”

You tried to pick up the pieces again but he stoped you. “I’ll get it, let’s treat your burn first.” He led you to the bathroom and sat you. on the edge of the tub. Rummaging through the medicine cabinet he found some gauze. You cringed a bit. “Taehyung, it’s not that serious, it’s just a little red that’s all.” Taehyung shook his head. “Better to be safe than sorry. Give me your hand.” You were a bit too happy to have him hold your hand as he ran it under cold water. He was so careful and the way he touched you made you want him to never stop. He dried your hand before wrapping it with gauze, clearly pleased with his work. “There!” He smiled. “Good as new.”

“Thank you.” You laughed and the two of you locked eyes. With him looking at you, you suddenly became hyper aware of his bare chest. He wasn’t super buff but he was lean and toned. He looked very strong and it was hard to look away but you made yourself.

For the next few days, you continued to get up early and make tea, careful not to drop it again.

It was getting really fucking hard for Taehyung to not look at you. It seemed like the only thing you owned were little shorts and huge ass t-shirts. Every time he saw you he wanted to push you against a wall and destroy you. Taehyung had take showers very frequently because of you.

——————————————————————————————————————————

Quarantine was not the most fun and besides meal time, you and Taehyung had not interacted very much. He was very sweet and funny but you were too shy to ask him to hang out.

He must have been going stir crazy too because eventually there was a knock on your door.

“Come in.” You said. Taehyung slowly opened the door. He was wearing sweats and a dark blue sweatshirt. It was annoying that he looked good in even the lumpiest clothes.

“Hey, Im really fucking bored out here can you come watch a movie with me.”

“Sure.” You followed him out to the living room “What movie?” “Im not sure.” He said sitting down. “What do you like to watch?”

You shrugged, to be honest you. Weren’t really a movie person. You. Spent a lot of time listening to music and reading but movies weren’t something you did too often. Being away from your family was making you a bit nostalgic and you recalled movies you watched with them.

“When I was little I really liked Howls Moving Castle.” Taehyung raised an eyebrow at you. “Out of every movie you want to watch a cartoon?” He asked.

“What?!” You giggled. “Howl was like my dream guy when I was younger.” You looked at him as earnestly as you could. “Please can we watch it. I really want to now.” He sighed dramatically but didn’t object.

Once it started you were immediately spellbound. You had forgotten how beautiful Miyazaki movies were. At one point without thinking you said “Howl kind of reminds me of you.” Taehyung looked at you but you were too entranced to notice. His eyes roamed the curves of your face and made their way down your neck, to your shoulder which was bare as your huge shirt slipped off of it. He cleared his throat and returned to watching the movie. There was no way he would let himself think about you. That wasn’t fair to you at all.

Yo had forgotten how sad and intense Miyazaki movies got and you hated when there was conflict in stories. A couple of times you reached out for tae’s arm and he let you. He hated how much he liked the feeling that you needed him there. After your fourth time grabbing onto him, He took your hand and laced his fingers through yours. He watched you register this and look at him. Your eyes were so big and innocent. God, he wanted to ruin you. You smiled at him and continued to watch the rest of the movie. He stopped himself from doing anything stupid. He couldn’t help but be a little disappointed when the film was over and you released his hand. “Thanks for watching with me.” He said. You nodded “Thanks for letting me choose the movie, I forgot how much I loved it.”

There was a silence as he looked at you in the now dark living room. You let him allowing yourself to observe him as well.

“Y/N.” Taehyung’s gaze was filled with a sudden intensity. It scared you a little.

“Yes?” Taehyung pulled you into his arms and buried his head in your hair breathing you in. “I would be so goddamn lonely if you weren’t here.” He said his voice a bit muffled. You were taken aback by his sudden affection that it took you a moment to return it. You gently wrapped your arms around his neck. He smelled so good it was hard for you to think about letting go. Lucky for you Taehyung didn’t. He stayed like that for a long time, so long that you fell asleep and then he fell asleep.

The next morning you woke up still wrapped around each other. He was observing you when you opened your eyes and grinned when he noticed you had woken up.

“Good morning.” You felt a bit awkward that you had ended up in this situation.

“Morning.” You replied avoiding is stare. Taehyung only released you when he was worried you’d be able to feel him. When you finally untangled your limbs from his, he rushed to the shower.

——————————————————————————————————————————

You had started to notice the Tae had become very touchy with you. Not that you were complaining, you loved it. You were definitely starting to develop a crush on him and as much as you hated to admit it you were definitely flirting with him. If you were cooking he would find ways to pass behind you and touch your waist. At the dinner table he began to sit next to you and would knock his knee against yours. He’d even started to put his arm around you when you watched movies which had become a very frequent thing. Regardless of how much you enjoyed his touches you decided not to put too much weight behind it. Tae was like an older brother and in this short time you had been living together, he looked after you. You refused to get his affection confused with attraction.

“Hey, my mom just sent an old picture of her and your mom in college.” Tae called from the living room. You ran out to see jumping on the couch next to him and looking over his shoulder. You immediately recognize your mom which made you miss her a lot. The woman next to her in the picture looked like she had just stepped off a runway, you could see where Tae had gotten his good looks.

“Wow, She’s beautiful you look so much like her.” You said. He leaned back into your lab and looked up at you grinning. “Y/N, are you calling me beautiful?” You choked on the air. “No! Um, er- you are beautiful, but- I wasn’t..” Tae turned towards you and poked your nose. “You’re so cute.” You felt yourself turn completely red.

“Im not cute.” You mumbled, punching him in the shoulder.

“You are ridiculously cute. It’s almost too much.” You found yourself pouting again and you crossed your arms. Reached up and pulled your face towards him. “See? Thats cute. If you keep doing that I’m not going to be able to stop myself from doing bad things to you.”

You found yourself at a loss for words. Tae rand is thumb over your bottom lip before laughing. Anger overwhelmed you. “You’re an asshole!” You shoved him away from you. He continued to laugh “Oh yeah? Am I?” He tickled your side and you shrieked jumping off the couch and running away from him. He chased you around the apartment and when he caught up to you he threw you over his shoulder. “Tae!” You giggled. He threw you onto the couch and plopped down next to you. “Don’t deny who you are.”

“Shut up.”

——————————————————————————————————————————

Tae picked the movie tonight. It was the notebook and apparently he was a huge fan of Rachel McAdams. You didn’t blame him, she was very pretty but you did feel weirdly jealous. You noticed he didn’t put his arm around you like he normally did which kinda disappointed you. You wondered if he was mad at you which made it hard for you relax. You sat with your arms wrapped around your legs. In your head you started to go through everything you had done during the day that could have upset him but you weren’t finding anything he had seemed happy all day which is why it was weird that he wasn’t acting like he usually did. You were about to start crying until you felt him touching your thigh. He looked like he didn’t know he was doing it as he continued to watch the movie.You couldn’t focus at all, his touches felt so good and you closed your eyes accidentally sighing with pleasure. You felt his hand travel closer to the line of your shorts until they ghosted over your core. Taken aback you looked at tae, worried that he was unaware of what he was doing but he was looking right at you now, his eyes full of something dark and wild. He pulled you closer to him and applied more pressure which made you moan more and you leaned your head against his chest. His other hand caressed your head. “You are so pretty.” He mumbled. “You have no idea how much I want to ruin you.” As he rubbed harder you could feel yourself building up to something you bit your lip and felt your hips roll against his hand. “Do you like that?” Taehyung asked

“Mhmn.” Was the most you could say. “Do you want to come?” You nodded but tae wasn’t satisfied. “I asked if you want to come.” He said.

“Yes! I want to come!” You shouted and almost instantly you felt yourself reach the edge. He continued to move his hand against you as you shook. “Oh my god.”You exhaled. Once you came down from your high you couldn’t bare to look at him and kept your head buried in his shirt. He kissed your hair and then your forehead, your eyes cheeks, nose, before making his way to your lips. It was soft and too brief you almost felt like it hadn’t happened. But he didn’t offer anything more. He got off the couch and walked to the bathroom. You heard him start the shower and you fell asleep before he opened the door again.

——————————————————————————————————————————

It had been three days since whatever happened between you two had happened. You weren’t sure what to call it just as much as you weren’t sure what it meant. You were so confused and too afraid to ask him. Tae seemed just as goofy as he always was which was a relief though he didn’t touch you as much. In fact you had tried to hug him earlier and you could swear you saw him flinch. This was infuriating! He was the one who has initiated the whole thing and now he wasn’t even going to acknowledge it. There was no way you were letting him get away with this. If he was going to make you mad then you were going to mess with him.

“Hey Y/N I’m bored come play cards with me.”

You were sitting in your room reading. You smiled to yourself as you ignored his request.

“Y/N?” Again no response. You. Could hear him walking to your room. He stood in the doorway looking at you.

“Y/N, did you hear me?” You put on your most innocent face before looking at him. “No, did you call me?” He scratched his head clearly confused before sighing. “No, never mind.” You stuck your tongue out at him when he walked away.

When he made dinner that night you told him you had already eaten. “When?” He asked. You shrugged, “I had some crackers earlier and I’m full.” You could tell that he was getting frustrated. But he still didn’t ask you what was going on.

You didn’t watch a movie that night but you hadn’t in three days so it wasn’t that weird. When He closed his bedroom door you waited an hour before leaving your room and slipping into his. He was definitely asleep when you got under the covers. He wasn’t wearing a shirt and you were pleased when he moved to wrap his arms around you groaning into you.

——————————————————————————————————————————

In the morning he was not in the room and the door was opened. You got up and found him at the island waiting for you. You liked the way he looked in the morning his har disheveled hid voice incredibly deep.

“Y/N.” He spoke. You shivered at the way he said it. He was angry and it was very hot.

“Tae.” You responded. He shook his head at you and you went on pretending to be oblivious.

“Can you make me pancakes?” You asked sweetly. “‘Im, hungry.” You opened one of the cabinets and got a glass for water. Before you could open the fridge Tae moved grabbed you and pushed you against the counter placing a hand on either side of you.

“Y/N, why are you doing this to me?” Although you were a bit shocked you forced yourself to continue the act. “Doing what Tae, I just asked for pancakes.” Then he actually growled, leaning his head onto your shoulder. You felt blood rush to your core you were so turned on. “Goddamn it, Y/N. I keep convincing myself that this is a bad idea but you keep doing things that make me want to teach you a lesson.”

“Then teach me.” You say. He lifted his head from your shoulder and looked into your eyes. The darkness had returned and his eyes seemed heavy as he looked down at your lips. Suddenly he was devouring you. This kiss was nothing like the ghost one from before. This one felt like he was trying to suck all of the life out of you. And it was working. Your knees went weak and you had to hold onto his shoulders to help yourself stay upright. He slipped his tongue into your mouth and you moaned into him. He tasted so good and just as you felt like he was giving himself to you he pulled away. You whined. “Y/N, tell me what you want.” You rolled your eyes and he gripped your face with his hands. “Tell me what you want.”

“I want you.” He kissed you smiling against your mouth. “Where do you want me?”

“Everywhere.” You moved his hands to your breasts and he quickly lifted up your shirt to reveal your breasts.

“Holy fuck I can’t believe you slept next to me like this.” He moved his mouth down your neck before latching onto you nipple and sucking hard.

“Oh my god.” You ran your fingers though his hair. Tae slipped his fingers down to the waistline of your shorts and you let him pull them down along with your underwear. “Such a pretty little cunt.” He said before slapping it making you gasp. He turned you around and licked your folds your eyes rolling back. He began to suck on your clit and you lost it. “Fuck, oh my god! Yes!” Without warning tae pushed you to the ground and stood up you could see the bulge that had formed in his sweats. He placed your hand over it and rolled his head back while you massaged it. Then he pulled down his sweats to reveal a very large very erect cock. You swallowed and looked up at him. ‘Fuck, Y/N you have no idea how pure you look. I can’t wait to fucking ruin you.” Grabbing onto your hair he pushed his dick into your mouth. “Good girl.” He said gently. Tae watched as you tried not to choke on him. “You're doing so good.” He began to buck his hips into you and you gagged on him getting saliva all over his length. When you almost couldn’t take it he pulled out and picked you up placing you on the counter.

“Are you ready for me baby?” He asked and you nodded. He didn’t move. “I need an answer.”

“Yes, Please fuck me.” You beg. And then the pushed into you stretching you out so much you stoped breathing for a second. But as he pulled out you immediately wanted him back inside. Tae grabbed your neck. “I want you to look at me when I’m fucking you.” He pounded into you and when he thrusted at just the right angle your eyes started to water but you kept looking at him. “You feel so fucking good, Y/N. I’ve thought about this so much and you are even tighter than I expected.” The lack of oxygen was heightening your pleasure and you started to feel your orgasm coming on. “Im going to come!” You screamed. He pounded into you harder. “Not yet baby, Not until I say so.” You bit your lip in an effort to hold it back but your vision blurred and there was no stopping it. Tae kept thrusting as you rode it out and as you squeezed around him he reached his climax. He pulled out and his juices poured out of you. He wrapped his arms around you and hugged you for a long time. After some time he picked you up and carried you to the bathroom. He turned on the shower and pulled you inside. As the water ran he took your face in his hards and kissed you softly. He kissed your shoulders and your breasts. He knelt kissing your stomach, thighs, knees and feet. You grabbed his face and pulled him back up into your lips. He felt safe and secure. You let him wash your body and he let you wash his. Finally he stepped out of the shower and dried off before opening the bathroom door.

“Where are you going?” You asked him.

“To make you pancakes.”

677 notes · View notes

starkerintheparker · 4 years

Text

starker reclist - AUs

Hey guys! Welcome to the second part of my personal Starker reclist, dedicated to AUs. Last week I posted my canon-based recs, you can find them here.

I tried to incorporate as many tropes as I could, hoping everyone will find something special within their interests. There are a few a/b/o and underage fics, all properly tagged in case anyone wishes to avoid them. I also tried to highlight soulmate AUs because I reckon it’s a somewhat popular trope. Enjoy! ❤️

Last updated: April 25th, 2020. All new fics added will be marked with ***

• 007 AU by @darker-soft-starker (T, 4k, completed)

Summary: Undercover and bored at an art auction, Tony finds entertainment in Peter Parker.

Review: Look, I’m a simple woman. Daniel Craig has owned my ass ever since Casino Royale and I was reading 00Q and Hartwin before I even shipped Starker. Point is, I like spy movies, ok?! So naturally I couldn’t leave this fic out of my reclist. I you need further incentive, consider this quote: “What, a little late night espionage not romantic enough for you?” Peter retorts, whipping a pistol out from his jacket and aiming it at Tony’s chest.

• 3 Times I Told You I Loved You & 1 Time You Said It Back by @starkeristheendgame (E) background Peter/Steve, Peter/Bucky, Peter/Scott

Summary: Peter Parker confesses his love to Tony Stark three times. Once at ten, once at fifteen and once at twenty. Finally convinced that Tony will never love him back, Peter ventures out into a different path, desperate to find the love he seeks from someone else. But you know what they say about star-crossed lovers.

Review: This lovely fic holds a very special place in my heart. I’m so invested I decided to wait until it’s finished so I can read it all in one sitting. Peter’s longing and heartbreak hurt my poor soul but I trust Jensen to give me that promised Starker endgame - I know it will be glorious when it finally comes.

• A Night on the Town by @scarletmanuka1 (G, 2.3k, completed)

Summary: Nightclub AU. Years after the events of Endgame, Tony has hit rock bottom. The Snap left him crippled, Pepper has abandoned him and has taken Morgan with her, and he's feeling old and lonely. Peter arranges a night out at the nightclub that he works at to try and cheer Tony up.

Review: I love get together fics, especially if it involves oblivious!Tony getting his shit together and going after his man. Seeing him bitter and broken after Thanos was hard, but special kudos to IronBros moments because that friendship is true goals!

• Age of Adeline by @starkerforlife6969 (completed) background Harley/Peter, Bucky/Peter, Wade/Peter

Review: I’d never in a million years think about this movie as a Starker AU but gosh, this is everything I needed in my life and it completely devastated me but I loved every minute of it. As a devoted monoshipper, I was surprised to realize that I got emotionally involved with all pairings, even more so with Starker, which totally paid off. Gorgeous, powerful and heartfelt. God bless SFL.

• assume makes ass for u and me by @pretty-well-funded (M, 1.6k, completed) tw underage

Summary: In Tony’s defense, he was sure the kid was a rent boy.

Review: This 1.6k fic caught me completely off guard and now I’m crying because I need MORE. I love the premise, the dialogue is criminally good, their voices are amazing and I can’t get enough of cheeky!Peter charming Tony with his wit and filthy mind.

• Bamf!secretary Peter by @starkerforlife6969 (M, completed)

Review: Who could ever resist some corporate espionage drama with bamf!Peter leaving Tony speechless and horny? Not me. I’d read more 30k of this verse because competent, sassy Peter Parker is such a kink, omg.

• Biker!Tony by @starkerforlife6969 (T, completed) Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Review: Same age AUs are not usually my thing but I can’t resist cute high school sweethearts written by this fandom goddess. Plus, protective!Tony calling Peter “doll” does things to my heart - and Peter’s.

• Breaking Character by @cagestark (E, 8.3k, completed)

Summary: Tony Stark, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist, and spy for SHIELD. Working with another SHIELD spy, the infamous Spider, he will take down an infamous human trafficking ring in New York. But the act they have to put on will demand more from Tony than he ever thought he'd have to give. Not that he minds.

Review: The spy trope seriously needs more fic like this one, because I’ll have bamf!Peter lying back to save his country while Tony freaks out any day. Cage hits the perfect balance between plot building, fantastic sexual tension, clever dialogue and the hottest smut sequence. What a ride! (Pun intended).

• Curiosity Killed the Cat by @areluctantsblog (T, 1.5k, completed)

Summary: Peter has been modelling in an art school for years. He's used to strangers' eyes roaming his body - clothed or naked - and he knows that it's not him they are looking at. Not him who they are interested in. He's just a model, a tool for their work. And for a long time he doesn't notice the one pair of eyes that, despite seeing him but rarely, is looking right at him.

Review: Very soft and atmospheric, this fic left me in a bit of a daze and it took me a while to realize it was over. Great writing will do that to you.

• Detective!Tony, Graffiti Artist!Peter by @starkerforlife6969 (M, completed)

Review: Oh don’t mind me, just appreciating this author’s talent at writing from the filthiest smut to the softest “Tony saves Peter in all ways that matter” like this ficlet. We stan.

• Eat at Pete’s by feyrelay + glorious art by @peachbabypie (E)

Summary: Peter gives him an unimpressed look, “If you didn’t do your work, then you wouldn’t be able to earn my time though, would you?” Pfft. “Kid, I have more money than god. I can splurge on your delicious pancakes and attention, trust me,” Tony informs him loftily. Peter smiles that wicked, crooked little smile that's just for him. It's not even and perfect like his the-customer-is-always-right one that's more frequently on offer. “I didn’t say you couldn’t afford it. I said you wouldn’t have earned it.”

Review: How can we ever say no to dom!Peter putting Tony in his place and hopefully on his dick + Tony loving every second of it?? Their dynamics are fantastic and that TASTY COUNTER DIALOGUE KILLS ME. EVERY TIME. Check it out and come scream with me: sub!Tony rights :D

• Fire and Ice by LeafyGreenQueen773 (M, 3k, completed) Soulmate AU

Summary: AU where when someone writes on his or her skin, the same thing shows up on their soulmate in the same place as a Mark that fades away in a few hours.

Review: This was the first Starker soulmate fic I’ve read and it made my heart ache so soft and good. Lovely and bittersweet, quiet and painfully honest.

• Genius, Acrobat, Playboy, Philanthropist by @scarletmanuka1 (E, 28k, completed)

Summary: After Peter's aeriel acrobatics partner, Adrian Toomes is fired from The Avengers Circus Troupe for theft, he is shocked to discover that his replacement is non other than legendary performer, Tony Stark - the man that Peter had hero worshipped since he first learned how to tumble.

Review: After reading this fic I realized I need more Circus AUs in my life. I could read jealous idiots falling in love while doing beautiful acrobatics for the rest of my days. Original plot, nice character development and I really appreciated how the author inserted little canon things here and there.

• Happy to Disappoint by @deaded-blush (M, 60k, completed) tw underage, domestic violence

Summary: Adrian Toomes is in quite deep with notorious mob boss Tony Stark. But when Tony comes to collect the debt owed, he's surprised to discover Toomes has an adoptive son. The chance meeting changes the direction of both their lives...

Review: Hands down one of the best Mafia!AUs I’ve ever seen. Read it all in one sitting and by the end I was SHOOKETH and utterly obsessed with this story. Nothing about it is okay so brace yourself for whump!Peter and lots of h/c. Bonus points for an incredibly satisfying ending that will make you gasp out loud.

• Hey Baby, Slip between my Beta-Pleats and get to know my Alpha-Helix? by @starkerforlife6969 and @darker-soft-starker (E, 37k, completed) A/B/O

Summary: Even though Tony can't tell the difference between Manolo Blahnik and Jimmy Choo, Peter really has no other choice. His heat is around the corner, so even though he loathes the party-going, booze drinking, smug playboy know-it-all that is Tony Stark. He'll just have to do.

Review: I can’t believe life went on as we know it (or did it??) after these two geniuses wrote together. This is the Starker version of “enemies to lovers” we all wanted and deserve, where spoiled-bratty-posh princess Peter finds the perfect balance for his chaotic energy in goofy-unapologetic-charming playboy Tony. Their falling in love is just so tender, so genuine and so good, it’s impossible not to cheer for these two sweethearts through this delightful, carefully crafted story.

• If you let me by @css1992 (E, 12k, completed)

Summary: Peter had tried dating younger guys, but it just didn’t do it for him. They were often too eager, too fast, too rough. Just too young, in general. Not that older men couldn’t be too much, too, Peter learned it the hard way. The man looking back at him from across the room seemed like a good one. He knew he shouldn’t judge a book by its cover, but he was gorgeous. Possibly the most handsome man Peter had ever seen in his short life.

Review: I remember the first time I read this fic it hit me in such a powerful way I cried a bit and was too overwhelmed to do words and tell the author just how much I loved it. But I never forgot this fic or the way it made me feel. It’s so evocative, so sexy, so raw, so heartbreaking, so sweet and so gentle. Great atmosphere, even greater characterization and some of the hottest smut I’ve ever read. Treat yourself and check this out right now.

• I’ll be Home by @starkerforlife6969 (M, completed) A/B/O

Summary: The story starts when Soldier Tony comes home for a few days, and is introduced to the love of his life.

Review: Will I ever stop reccing SFL’s works? Maybe, but today is not the day. This gorgeous, breathtaking fic attacked me in my own house during Christmas day and made me cry like a baby. I’m a sucker for reunion stories - the longing, the heartbreak, the power of endurance. This fic reminded me that no matter how long or difficult the journey, love will always find a way.

• Little Spider by @stfustucky (iwillpaintasongforlou) (E, 5k, completed)

Summary: Peter Parker is one of the country's best hitmen, known in the underworld as the Little Spider. He spends his days in the lap of luxury with his billionaire fiance Tony Stark, and his nights doing dirty work for various shady characters. Life is good, right up until someone puts out a hit on Tony and wants Peter to pull the trigger. It... might be time for them to have a talk.

Review: Omg this fic was so deliciously good in a totally surprising and sexy way. Bamf!Peter took my breath away with the perfect balance between his two personas. Tony getting off on that sheer power and confidence is a BIG MOOD and my second favorite thing in this fic. The first being the badass power couple they make.

• love somebody like you (E) by @intoxicatelou

Summary: five times Tony was Peter’s roommate and one time he was his soulmate instead.

Review: Who doesn’t love some forced proximity mixed with the unbeatable soulmate trope? This plot is the hottest take and my heart cannot handle young!Tony with his brilliant mind and sassy charm protecting and flirting with Peter, unfff feels everywhere *cries in Starker*

• Love Thy Neighbour by @darker-soft-starker (T, 2.3k, completed)

Summary: Tony's new neighbour is kinda weird.

Review: I know I keep saying that same age!AUs are not really my thing but I’m the softest bitch for feel-good, cozy domesticity, and I love how this charming story shows that ordinary life become magical when shared with someone special. I could babble all night about how eccentric and confident Peter seduces our man of science that for once has absolutely no idea of what’s going on - but you really should see it for yourself right now :)

• Mafia Boss!Tony Break Up Make Up by @starkerforlife6969 (E, completed)

Review: Man, this fic was so rude to my heart. The heartbreak, the rough sex, the guilt, the hopeful make up, the gorgeous ending. My body literally cannot take the stress, why are Mafia AUs so doomed and beautiful and more importantly, why is SFL so good at writing them???

• Microcosm Series by @bloomblood (M, 32k) tw underage

Summary: Tony and Peter become each other’s heroes after the Snap, saving themselves before they offer aid back to the world.

Review: I haven’t read many post-apocalyptic fics but this series’s raw atmosphere sucked me in. I adore the quiet intimacy, the slow and tentative healing, and all the silent and complex emotions underneath apparent simplicity. Big aesthetic mood, just as its lovely author.

• Musechaser by @nightskygardenia (M, 10.5k, completed)

Summary: Eighteen year old art student Peter Parker is desperately searching for his muse, someone who can bring his creative skills to the next level through inspiration. Lucky for him, his next class just so happens to feature a gorgeous model by the name of Tony Stark, a man Peter's convinced is his muse, to the point of staying after class to ask for private modeling sessions.

Review: Another big aesthetic mood, this fic paints a gorgeous imagery. I love the setting, the slow pace and the building anticipation until the sexual tension finally breaks. Peter is adorable and Tony exudes confidence; their voices are spot on and their chemistry is palpable and intense.

• My Best Friend’s Dad by @darker-soft-starker (M, 17.6k, completed)

Summary: Peter is home for the summer, back from his first year away at college. Having stayed over at Harley's house every weekend since they were fourteen, he never used to think much of his friend’s dad. A few years worth of college experience has Peter noticing Tony in a different way. This time, Tony notices him back.

Review: Turns out that Tony Stark being a dad and a daddy is too much for my body. I worship this fic. I wanna get married to it and have its babies. No words will ever make it justice *sobs* no but seriously, secret relationship is a perfect Starker trope and this one will take you to the edge of your seat until the very end. A+ characterization, lovely build up, infuriating cliffhangers and the wholesome happy ending we all deserve. This is the kind of fic that leaves you a bit depressed once it’s over, because you suddenly realize you’ll never read it for the first time ever again. So get to it and make sure to enjoy every second!

• One Call Away by @readysetstarker (E)

Summary: Tony didn’t need the phone sex gig. He was more than well off, his own sex life was in great shape, but damn, there was just something about listening to someone else get off to his voice.

Review: Omg who could ever resist sex hotline + daddy kink + identity porn? Dev is coming after our own hearts and bodies with this hot combo. I love the balance between their cute chemistry and the hot phone sex, plus the identity porn is deliciously fun. I was so happy to know this fic is getting longer than the author had previously anticipated because I’m definitely not ready to let it go.

• Open Road by @starkerflowers (E, 2.5k, completed)

Summary: It’s not love, but it’s good. TW: implied abuse (not between Tony/Peter); bruises/violence; panic attack.

Review: This refreshing not-quite-a-love-story will capture your heart, make it hurt, make it ache, make it hope and finally, make it heal. This fic is so gorgeously written I honestly cannot rec it enough. Yes, it’s dark and angsty, but it’s also gentle, hopeful and deeply evocative.

• Panty Raid by @starkerforlife6969 (M, completed) A/B/O

Summary: Imagine Tony being forced to do a panty raid as an initiation for his fraternity. So Tony, keeping up his playboy appearances, sneaks into the omega dorms. And he sees sweet innocent Peter who is so alarmed by the alphas raiding their dorm Tony can’t help but comfort him.

Review: Unf this fic is just too charming and cute, my heart cannot take it. Frat stories are so fun they make me forget my preference for age gaps and realize I could read more 50k of protective young!Tony any day, please and thank

• Pete’s Eats by @darker-soft-starker (T, 9.3k, completed)

Summary: Peter has a YouTube channel where he just drinks wine and teaches people how to cook things if they live in a mediocre apartment. While cooking and drinking he just talks about stuff like memes and school and, most importantly, his undying thirst for Tony Stark.

Review: This is legit the funniest shit I’ve ever read, everybody else can go home. I was already sold on Peter being a relatable thirsty dork, but Tony’s A+++ characterization (for a moment I thought it was RDJ on the big screen) and the identity porn side trope killed me for good. And what a way to go. I’m an angst hoe but I could read this forever and would be okay with it.

• pondus, pondera by spqr (M, 9.3k, completed) underage prostitution but not between P/T

Summary: Peter sells his virginity for $5,000 when he’s fifteen.

Review: Ugh I’m so weak for the angsty hooker trope, I just love the potential to simultaneously explore whump, mutual pining and gentle recovery. Trust spqr to deliver it all with a carefully crafted slow burn, god-tier characterization and a heartfelt and satisfying get together. This fic is a gem.

• Powerful by @cagestark (E, 4.6k, completed) SIM!Tony

Summary: After finding out about Peter's abusive ex, Tony privately vows revenge.

Review: This fic took my breath away and made me realize that dark!Tony with a soft spot for Peter is everything I need in my life. Precious Peter being empowered by a viciously protective Tony is now my absolute jam, and it was fascinating to see see their dynamics mutually feeding each other’s nature. This fic is gorgeous, sexy and liberating.

***Red Light District series by @starker-stories (17k, ongoing)

Summary: Everyone knows that Tony Stark is a playboy who has dozens of women passing through his life and through his bed. What everyone doesn't know is that Tony Stark is deeply closeted, longing for something he can't ever have -- a life and a love with another man.

Review: I’m completely in love with this series and not only because it explores the good old hooker trope which I’m very partial to. It’s so well written and atmospheric, if a tad bittersweet and heart-wrenching. Great narrative tension, Tony and Peter’s chemistry is insane, their voices and dialogue are amazing and the smut is looong and scorching hot *chef’s kiss*

• Samadhi by @starkercrossedlovers (E, completed)

Summay: Tony goes to yoga to try and deal with his anxiety and ends up falling for the instructor, one Peter Parker.

Review: Okay so yoga fics are among my guilty pleasures and I can’t get enough of feel-good fics like this one. Peter’s such a sweetheart, so thoughtful and amazing with Tony. I love it when they take care of each other and find solace together, this fic made me soft :’)

• Single dad baker!Peter and lawyer!Tony by @starkerforlife6969 (G, completed)

Review: I’m not usually a fluff girl but this fic is just too wholesome to go by unnoticed. Nothing hits my soft side harder than a cynical character reaching that turning point that makes them start to believe in love. Fuck yes, YOU SHOW THAT MAN SOME HAPPILY EVER AFTER PETE

• Soft Kitty by @ko-fiandfanfiction (E, 33k, completed)

Summary: Peter wasn’t wearing something Tony would call normal, not that there was anything inherently wrong with what he was wearing or anything. It just struck him as…different. To put it plainly. Tony is not sure what to make of this new development.

Review: For those of you who love some occasional feminization, this is the perfect treat. Soft, sexy and sweet, it combines top guilty, pining Tony with oblivious idiots in love, two of my favorite tropes. Amazing slow burn with glorious sexual tension, infuriating dancing around each other and a very satisfying get together. Bonus points for including the “Avengers living together in the Tower” trope, this is the 2012 team building fic we deserved.

• Solitaire by @darker-soft-starker (M, 29k, completed)

Summary: After a traumatic experience, Tony loses his marriage and his business empire in one fell swoop. At rock bottom, it takes real change to pick up the pieces, to dig himself out of the funk he's been living in. It's not pretty. Along the path of healing Tony meets a bright young man, Peter Parker, who makes the entire journey worth it.

Review: Oh man, this was a tough ride on the soul. Few things hurt me like reading whump!Tony but his healing journey is so beautiful it’s all worth it. Top notch characterization, amazing dialogue, FEELS EVERYWHERE, and a gorgeous portrayal of loneliness, friendship, hope and love.

• Someone Who Makes you Happy by tuesday (T, 6k, completed) Soulmate AU

Summary: Peter was born with several marks already marring his skin, including an interlocking AES over his heart. A scar-sharing soulmate AU.

Review: This fic is absolutely stunning and it makes my heart ache in all the right places. Great worldbuilding (I LOVE the scarring concept, so unique and fitting to these characters), A+++ Tony characterization (the wit and the self-hate are so spot on I could weep) and a journey full of longing, until they finally get to be on the same page.

• Splice by Mezzymet (E, 35k, completed) A/B/O

Summary: "He's not...." The doctors polite nature and disposition hadn't been able to mask the odd tone of his voice, like he had been reading someone's death certificate. Only Peter hadn't been on his death bed. "Peter isn't like the other kids.

Review: I keep coming back to this story because it’s such a fascinating and unique take on this trope. Very well thought and put together - the world building is fantastic, the sex sequences are breathtaking, and Tony’s gentle thoughtfulness makes me wanna cry.

• Stopover by @cagestark (E, 10k, completed)

Summary: A stopover is just a break in a journey. Tony is on the run from the organization he used to kill for, and when he stopped for gas and coffee in the small town of Stopover, IL, he had no plans to leave with anything more.

Review: *sigh* this is the mob boss!Tony fic I’ve waited for all my life. Even more impressive than the delicious smut checking all my kink boxes was the phenomenal build up, the overall urgent atmosphere that surrounds those “on the run”, combined with the gentle wonder of stealing a moment in time to find solace in the most unlikely place. Breathtakingly moving.

• Student Body President Election by @starkerforlife6969 (T, completed)

Summary: Tony and Peter are competing for Student Body President and a smear campaign takes things a little too far.

Review: GIMME ENEMIES TO LOVERS AND ALL THE HIGH SCHOOL DRAMA. This ficlet is so fun and adorable it will make your heart smile. Great plot idea and the usual bonus points for protective!Tony being a sweetheart. Will have more 30k, pls and thank.

• Such a Softer Sin by @css1992 (E, 18k, completed) background Peter/Norman

Summary: Tony is a self-made man. Peter is a sugar baby – someone else’s sugar baby.

Review: Another fantastic slow burn that hit me hard in the feels. I love it when fics explore the characters’ personal struggles before they get together, and while the Peter!whump destroyed my heart, Tony’s parallel journey of growth took my breath away. css1992’s talent took the good old sugar baby trope to a whole new epic level.

• Summer Daze by @darker-soft-starker (NR, 4.3k, completed)

Summary: Starker no-powers au where Peter watches construction worker Tony from his bedroom window as the older man works across the street.

Review: Ahh yes, the classic “food as metaphor for love” trope, my absolute jam. This fic is so adorable and endearing, pining!Peter in his wooing mission makes my heart ache and the sweet anticipation is so good. There’s something about this fic that gives me nostalgia; it’s as soft and warm as a summer breeze.

• Tamed by @cagestark (E, 8.3k, completed)

Review: It’s no wonder this is Cage’s most beloved fic. Bad boy!Tony being all soft for Peter is everything we deserve, not to mention a mesmerizing (and HOT AF) first time together. This fic shows how rich and captivating Cage’s writing is - she’s able to transform that old basic trope into something unique and heartfelt. If you need one more reason to read this, please consider: best first bj ever :)

• Teacher!Tony wrong number by @areluctantsblog (T) tw underage

Summary: Peter’s using a replacement phone and mistypes Ned’s number asking for help on a physics problem.

Review: I have such a soft spot for this fic! It was one of the first AUs I’ve ever read and I’m completely in love with their dynamics. Peter’s underage but this fic is carefully written and pretty tame, so I’d rec it to anyone looking for the good old “they probably shouldn’t, but then again nothing’s happening” trope.

• The Bleedover Effect by tuesday (T, 11k, completed) Soulmate AU

Summary: The first time Tony got punched in the face by nobody there, he had a lot of very complicated feelings about it that mostly boiled down to, "I deserve this." A pain-sharing soulmate AU.

Review: Tuesday truly is the queen of soulmate AUs, we have no other choice but STAN. First of all, I adore the concept here - being such a sucker for whump, this could easily become my favorite soulmate trope. As usual, her Tony voice is perfect and his devotion to Peter hits my fragile heart every time. Kudos for the soft and hopeful ending. The series has been discontinued but the sequels are very much worth the read, if you’re up for it :)

• The Catfish Chronicles by @stfustucky (iwillpaintasongforlou) (E, 32k, completed)

Summary: Peter creates a fake profile under the name “Benjamin” trying to catch his scumbag boyfriend cheating. Tony creates a Tinder profile for "Anthony" looking for love late in life. Funny how two geniuses who fight side by side every day can only manage to fall in love after they've accidentally catfished each other. This is... gonna get awkward.

Review: My identity porn thirst might be showing but who cares, I want these two idiots pining after each other in every possible way. This was such a fun and exciting ride! The suspense had me legit freaking out and their get together was lovely and wholesome. I particularly adored how thoughtful and sweet Tony was dealing with Peter’s insecurities, that was handled really well. A treat!

• The Concept of Domesticity by @peters-tofu (E) mpreg

Summary: Tony has accomplished nearly everything he's set out to do, now he wants something different. A family of his own? Sounds easy enough. But he's far too impatient for a relationship, so surrogacy it is. Meanwhile, twenty-two year old college student Peter Parker has just volunteered to be a bearer at an agency.

Review: Can’t say I’m a big fan of this trope but since every rule has its exception, here it is! The only Starker mpreg I’ve ever read is so so good and adorable I can’t help smiling every time I think about it. I just love their dynamics, the soft domesticity, the cute bantering, and the fact that Peter has one baby daddy all wrapped around his little finger but what else is new ;)

***The Date by Neuropsyche (E, 33k, completed)

Summary: Tony has a high society gala and he needs a date.

Review: My favorite fake dating AU so far, this fic is so sweet and wholesome. Confident!Peter is my jam and it was amazing to see their sassy bantering evolving into genuine affection towards each other, not to mention the delicious hot smut with dom!Tony :D

• The Final Heist by @starkerforlife6969 (G, 10k, completed)

Summary: Tony’s only got one more heist. He does this, he can be retired on an island in the Mediterranean in a month. All he needs is a world-class art forger. (White Collar inspired)

Review: Honestly, the amount of times I’ve mentioned SFL in this list is getting embarrassing. I must have done something really good in another life to get such a talented author writing something inspired by one of my favorite TV shows. I feel like this fic was personally crafted for me; it’s original, romantic, sexy, fun, clever and so very atmospheric. I’m a lucky hoe.

• The Heart Benefits of Exercise by @areluctantsblog (E, 14k, completed)

Summary: Personal Trainer Tony and Gym Newbie Peter. Peter can hardly keep it together watching Tony demonstrate different exercises and lift weights. Tony is very much aware of the effect he has on his trainee, and after a session, Peter begs to be shown a whole different array of exercises.

Review: This fic was a lovely surprise, very relatable and entertaining. Love myself an adorable Peter thirsting over Tony (can’t really judge lol), especially if it comes with a good amount of pining and hot, kinky smut :D

• Tipping the Scale by JayPendragon (E, 119k, completed)

Summary: Peter has a rhythm. A system. All runs like a well-oiled machine, engineering pun intended. Every wheel of his life is churning perfectly. He doesn’t expect Tony Stark of all people to throw a wrench in it.

Review: Hooker!AUs are my kryptonite, I’m so here for the “fuck first, talk later” and the general pining + misunderstandings + h/c combo this trope provides. This amazing longfic delivers it all with a well-paced, delicious slow burn told from Peter’s POV, which is always a delight to read and makes you fall even more in love with him. If you also enjoy this trope you’re in for a treat!

• To Catch a Spider by Thekeyandquill (E)

Summary: After the war, Peter Parker left his career as a spy behind to live a simple life in the south of France. But when someone frames him for the theft of plans for a new weapon, he must re-enter his old life and get close to the real thief's likely next target - one Tony Stark. A To Catch a Thief AU.

Review: TKAQ is so skilled their writing should be experienced like fine wine. Amazing research, top notch world building and characterization, and the loveliest atmosphere that makes you feel like you’re inside a movie. Clever, organic dialogue and a sexual tension so palpable you can almost taste it. This is a gem. Make sure to check their other works.

• Two White, Two Black, One Pink by @starkerforlife6969 (E) poly fic: Peter/Tony, Peter/Steve, Peter/Bucky, Peter/Strange Summary: Peter has three (maybe one day: four) men in his life who mean the world to him. Review: Ugh, this fic is pure bliss. It has legit ruined me for any and all other poly fics. Words just cannot describe how gorgeous, poetic and unique SFL’s writing is, or how deeply it has affected me. So if you enjoy Mafia AUs, poly fics and soft-but-also-bamf!Peter taking care of Tony AND being taken care of by the men he loves, give this a chance and experience transcending storytelling.

• Uranium Heart by spqr (M, 11k, completed) Soulmate AU Summary: It’s probably better, Peter thinks, that he doesn’t know who his soulmate is. He wouldn’t want to lie to them about Spider-Man, but he doesn’t think he’d be able to tell them the truth, either.

Review: Be still my heart. This is such a gorgeous fic! Not only it combines two major tropes in a coherent 11k story, but I also appreciate how spqr explores these characters and their dynamics in a very unique and realistic way. I strongly recommend checking their other works, especially Landslide.

• Waiting Game by @cagestark (E, 6k, completed)

Summary: Peter hasn't seen Tony in fifteen years. Not since he had their hasty marriage annulled, graduated college, and moved across the country. Their twenty year high school reunion will find them reunited. They've both changed, but one thing hasn’t. Hint: it's their feelings for each other.

Review: This fic literally made my heart BURST WITH FEELS: the whole build up and anticipation, the slow disclosure of their past, the first uncertain moments of their reunion. I also appreciate the powerful and moving message underneath it all, that true healing comes after we overcome our demons at our own pace. A masterpiece.

• Wooing Peter Parker by Neuropsyche (E, 62.5k, completed)

Summary: Tony and Rhodey dodge the press and sneak into the library where they meet Peter Parker - who immediately catches Tony's eye. But Peter isn't a one and done kind of guy and Tony's going to have to work for what he wants this time.

Review: This is the kind of fic that warms you all over and makes you smile non stop. It has so many elements I love in fic: cute flirting, clever banter, hot sex, soft domesticity, boys being reasonable and talking their problems out for a change. If you’re looking for something light, sweet and honest, this series is a must read!

#starker #reclist #peter parker x tony stark

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jimlingss · 4 years

Text

The Colour of Our Voices [15]

Chapter 14 - Chapter 15 - Chapter 16

➜ Words: 4k

➜ Genres: 98% Fluff, 2% Angst, Slice of Life, Broadway!AU

➜ Summary: He wasn’t supposed to hear. He wasn't supposed to know. But the instant Jimin came into your life and pulled the curtains back, you couldn't hide backstage anymore. You were no longer merely a phantom of the opera.

cr.

Every relationship has its own set of difficulties, its ups and downs. It’s just painful that you can’t be together when you want to. You never knew there’d come a point where your goals, dreams, and ambitions would contend with your relationship. It seems like it’s either one or the other and you don’t know if you can pick — if he would choose what you would. You hope that with time, it’ll pass. You try not to show how hurt you are over the missed date night incident even though it makes you overwhelmingly sad. But you can laugh at it a little when you’re faced with a different kind of reaction instead of sadness — rage. “He fucking forgot?!” Yeonjeon is hysterical and her disgust is practically tangible. “Oh my god. I’m going to kill him.” She gets up, but you pull her arm down with a laugh. Jimin’s at work. She probably wouldn’t know where to look for him even if she tried. “Hey, don’t kill him, I still love him.” “Yeah, and it’s a mistake,” the actress says right out and rolls her eyes. “God, I can’t believe I had a crush on that motherfucker. All men are pigs, aren’t they? What an asshole!” “It was an accident.” You shrug. “Uh-huh. Pathetic is what it is.” “He’s been really tired lately.” “Umm, don’t defend him in my house.” She’s personally offended and is still fuming. “He can’t even remember a date. Does he have one brain cell?” “No. He has at least two,” you giggle. Yeonjeon shakes her head, but softens. Suddenly, she puts her hands on your shoulders, making you look at her. “Listen, Y/N. Just dump Jimin.” Immediately, you burst out laughing. “I love him too much to dump him.” “Well, fame changes people,” she states coldly. “He probably thinks he’s some kind of big shot now because he’s has some stupid role in a movie.” You smile at her sheepishly. It doesn’t seem like fame changed him. More like fame changed his life. It changed yours too — if you could even call it fame. “Anyways, enough about that jerk—” “Yeonjeon,” you warn her with a pout. He’s your boyfriend after all so you’ll defend him till the end. “—how’s your own projects going so far?” “They’re going fine. Rapunzel doesn’t have that many lines and she doesn’t actually sing any lyrics, but in the scenes that she is in, they’re pretty important. I’m having fun. Plus the people there are really nice to work with too.” “You know what?” She snaps her fingers. “Now that I think about it. Rapunzel fits you perfectly.” You laugh at her and she eyes you. “What? It just does.” Someone else had told you that — a boy that you miss dearly.

Jimin’s been having a recurring nightmare recently — one where he’s a four year old again and he’s stacking blocks as high as he can. It doesn’t sound so bad, but always when he has the last block in his hand and goes to top off the tower, he can see it teeter. He knows what’s about to happen, He can see it right in front of him. But no matter what he does, how carefully he deals with the blocks, he can’t stop it from tumbling down. The worst part is knowing the inevitable, but being unable to stop it. To see the collapse before it happens. “Going home already, Park?” The corner of Jungkook’s mouth curls, eyes flickering down to how Jimin’s gathering his belongings. His bag and coat are slung over his arms as if he’s being chased by debt collectors and needs to run out as soon as possible. “Why so soon?” Chanyeol throws his arm around the younger’s shoulder, pulling him in. “I thought we were gonna go out for drinks again tonight.” “I’m good.” Jimin slyly and discreetly moves the actor’s arm off of him. “I think I’m gonna head home early. I’m pretty tired.” “Oh come on. Don’t be a downer. We even have our day off tomorrow. We should celebrate, don’t you think?” Chanyeol grins and looks across the set. “Hey, Director! You want to come with us again?” Yoongi, the camera director looks up from what he’s doing and shrugs. “Sure.” “See? Even Min’s coming. What are you waiting for?” It’s not rare to drink with the other cast members after a long day of filming. Usually outings can range from three to four people to every person on the set. They’re a good bunch but he wishes there weren't so many eyes on him right now. “What else would you be doing at home?” “He’s whipped for some girl at home, that’s why,” Jungkook says with a laugh. “Let him go if he really doesn’t want to come.” “That so?” Chanyeol raises his brows. “You can invite her.” “No, she works fairly early. She’s probably asleep right now.” “Then what are you going home for? Come on,” he insists, and Jimin succumbs to the pressure. // They’re huddled in a private room at the back of the fancy nightclub. It’s exclusive, sofas softer than expected, the back light of the walls creating a sensual ambiance and everything he drinks feels expensive. Jimin guesses this is what fame and fortune buys you. One of the girls working at the nightclub comes over with a tray of drinks, gorgeous with her dress that’s too small and too short, and her cleavage practically spilling out. Chanyeol whistles, tipping her with a pretty bill which she smiles to, and the actor notices the way Jimin diverts his eyes. “This girl of yours must be one hell of a woman,” he comments out of the blue and has Jimin’s eyes widening. “Me?” “Yeah, you, Park. Who else would I be talking about?” The handsome actor laughs boisterously, perhaps having taken one too many drinks. “Apparently they’re neighbours,” Jungkook pipes up, remembering the story Jimin told a few weeks ago. “Oof, brutal.” Chanyeol shakes his head. “If you guys break up, you’re gonna have to definitely move.” “We’re not going to break up,” Jimin instinctively states. It’s almost defensive in a way and he hopes they don’t notice the nervous tick in his fingers. There’s an exchange of expressions around the table. “You’re going to get married to her then?” “I don’t know. Maybe. Probably.” “Ooh, he is whipped,” Chanyeol sing-songs, but it also sounds sharp. Jungkook frowns. “You really want to tie yourself down so soon? I mean, it’s not a bad thing.” “It is a bad thing,” the other actor corrects, “Jimin’s young and good looking. You shouldn’t tie yourself down so early. You haven’t even begun to experience what kind of girls are out there….” Jimin doesn’t say anything. He takes the shot that’s in front of him. It’s bitter in his mouth, disgusting, but he ignores the actual taste to chase after the free feeling it gives him instead. “You’re cute — girls like that sort of thing. Trust me, you’ll be missing out if you tie yourself down now, Park. You have the rest of your life to be serious,” Chanyeol continues before his eyes flicker to the person across from him. “Right, Min?” Yoongi sighs and Chanyeol laughs, explaining, “He’s divorced. His ex-wife’s some critic who runs her own blog. They had to reach a huge settlement and it took two years in court, but get this, she didn’t change her last name back. She kept Min just to fuck with him.” “That’s enough,” Yoongi pipes up, cat-like eyes narrowed in on his drink. He throws it back and exhales afterwards. “I don’t want to talk about it.” The actor smiles, gripping his glass. “I got married to my high school sweetheart, and it’s an absolute nightmare.” Chanyeol grins and shakes his head, lighthearted in the way he talks and it makes Jimin’s own mouth quirk. “She’s bat shit insane.” Jungkook grins. “Didn’t she key your car?” “Broke my windshield too with a fucking brick.” Jimin blinks hard, unable to believe it. “Christ.” “They’re not crazy at the start, trust me. Everything’s always nice at the beginning — everyone’s in love, doesn’t matter that they like to call up their ex, that they want to forgo condoms and skip their birth control….” Jungkook snickers at Chanyeol’s woes and even Yoongi is amused. “I was an idiot, to say the least,” he sighs. “Not that I didn’t have my own problems, but I rushed into it way too quickly. What can you do, right? It would be bearable if not for the nagging.” “This is why I don’t do relationships,” Jungkook comments with his lips tightly drawn in a line. “Smart man.” He lifts his glass and they clink their drinks together. Jimin’s persuaded to take another shot. “Don’t you ever feel held down by her?” Chanyeol asks, smacking his lips. “Doesn’t she nag or anything?” “I wouldn’t say that….” Jimin considers it and his intoxication makes the words slip out recklessly. “She asks where I’m going. She texts me to ask when I’m coming home. She complains when I’m out late...sometimes.” The brunette shrugs. “She just worries about me.” “Sounds like a burden to me,” Chanyeol remarks. Suddenly Yoongi’s silence is broken. His eyes perceive more than they let on. “Does she ever make you feel bad for doing what you want?” “That’s a good point.” Jungkook nods and leans over to look at the brunette, propping his elbow on the table, chin in his hand. “You shouldn’t feel bad about doing what you want.” Jimin remains quiet. He drinks. It’s silent for a while, unsettlingly so and as each person waits for him to answer, Jimin never speaks. He never lifts his eyes away from the table. Chanyeol ends up clearing his throat. “What’s with this somber mood? Let’s change the subject! Come on, I’m getting too sober to be around you ugly motherfuckers. Shots, people!” They clink glasses together, laughing and moving on from the heavy topic of conversation. But they’re unknowing to just how it resonates with Jimin more than it should. He wants to be here — but you make him feel like he should be at home instead. He wants to perform, on screen or on Broadway — but you make him feel bad for being so busy. He loves you, but he feels guilty for your conflicting schedules, for not seeing you enough, even though this is all he’s been dreaming of, this is what he wanted… Jimin drinks and swallows past the thick lump forming in his throat. // The slamming door shakes you from your slumber. You turn around in your sheets, listening to the oncoming stomping footsteps, an irregular pattern instead of a consistent beat as if someone’s stumbling. The bedroom door creaks open and then Jimin dives into the sheets. He opens his arms and falls to his front, his arm hitting your shoulder. “What are you doing?” You rub your eyes and with a sigh, you sit up. You reach over to flicker the bedside lamp on. “Did you drink?” You can smell the alcohol radiating off of him, and it’s stronger than ever before. It’s surprising considering he’s usually a responsible drinker who always knows how to pace himself. One side of Jimin’s face is squished into the sheets, the other facing you. One of his eyes open. The pair of you stare at each other. “I love you.” The words slur and he exhales. “But goddamn ‘s hard sometimes.” You sigh again, getting up to take off his shoes as he lays there. You peel off his socks too, throwing them onto the ground for him to deal with it himself in the morning. “You didn’t even take off your jacket.” At least it’s his day off tomorrow, so he can get plenty of rest and recover — it doesn’t look like he’ll have a pleasant time in the morning. Unfortunately, the case is not the same for you. You have to wake up in three hours, so you’re not impressed to say the least. You climb over top of him, taking off his coat. Jimin’s arms are limp like noodles and he turns his head to stare straight at you. “‘Hy do you make me feel bad…’bout doing what I want, huh?” “What are you talking about, Jimin?” You go to unbutton his stained dress shirt reeking of spilled alcohol, but he abruptly shoves his hands off of him. “‘Could get so many girls….” “You could get so many girls?” Your eyebrow cocks. “Do you want to get girls?” “Dunno.” “Alright, Casanova.” You smile. “Let’s get you changed and to bed, ‘kay?” As you’re unbuttoning his shirt, peaceful silence settles around. Jimin savours the warmth of your hands on his skin, gazing at how your eyes are concentrated but still sleepy, how messy your hair is from twisting in the bed sheets and turning against the pillow. Your edges are soft in the yellow, dim light of the lamp. You’re practically glowing. “’re gonna break up, aren’t we?” The reaction is immediate. Your hands halt. Your lips fall. Your blood runs cold. “What?” “We’re gonna break up,” Jimin says it like he’s announcing it, like he’s decided himself. Your bottom lips tremble, hands quivering, and you quickly get off of him to collect yourself. You want to brush it off that he’s intoxicated, that doesn’t know what he’s saying. But drunk words are sober thoughts. “What are you saying?” “Do you know who I am?” His tongue slurs heavily, syllables melted together, and the man sits up slowly, swaying from side to side. “Who are you?” Your voice cracks against your will, eyes glossy and looking into his. “Cute — ‘Andsome — young — Park J-Jimin…..” He giggles with a finger in the air and he points at you. “‘M missing out by being with you, did ya know that? ‘Nd why do you make me feel guilty for doing what I want, huh? I wanna to go out and party and drink and meet girls and perform, but I gotta go home to you….sucks, man.” “It sucks, huh?” You swallow hard, fist curling tight into the sheets. “So you want to break up with me?” “’Ts gonna end anyways. Look at us.” Jimin falls onto his back again, cozying up in the sheets. “Don’t even see each other anymore.” “So this is it?” You ask again and again, not knowing where this is coming from, unable to believe that it’s happening. “Where else it gonna go?” You’re silent. You remove yourself from him, bringing your shaking hands into your lap. He lays there like a dead body, but he doesn’t fall asleep just yet despite the temptation being so strong. “What happened to the Jimin I first met?” you ask quietly, a mere whisper leaving your parted lips. You don’t know who this arrogant asshole is — a stranger has entered your home. “’S not here no more,” he mumbles, “Fame changed me. ’M not some sad dude pinning after you anymore.” “Go to bed, Jimin,” you spit out the command harsher than you thought was possible. It goes silent and you watch him sprawl in your bed, limbs spread freely and his chest rising and falling as he snores. You reach over to turn off the lamp and grab your pillow, shoving his head off of it. You wipe your eyes with the back of your hand and try to sleep out on the couch for the remaining hours. But it’s hard when you’re so restless. // The sunlight pierces through the window and into his eyes. He groans, shaken awake and brought to consciousness and to his head throbbing. His head aches and he feels sickly, the world swirling around him. Jimin gets up and stumbles to the bathroom to relieve his bladder. He tries to wash his face afterwards and brush his teeth. When he leaves, he holds onto the door frame to brace himself and he hears noisy clanging in the kitchen that makes him wince. He staggers out, shocked to see you. “What are you doing here?” Jimin’s voice cracks and he moves to get water to quench his painful thirst. Your back stays turned to him. “It’s one in the afternoon,” you state rather coldly, mumbling from the corner of your mouth. “I asked to come home early. I remembered I’m allowed to do that.” He raises a brow and finishes drinking an entire bottle. “Are you still mad at me for forgetting our date night?” It goes quiet. You don’t spare him a glance, simply putting the dishes away. The loud clanging has him flinching. “I already said I’m sorry,” he reasons, “I got you flowers!” You don’t know what he’s talking about and you don’t care to learn. “Y/N.” You came home to talk to him but now that he’s here, you know that you’ll regret what wants to come out. “Y/N.” “Y/N,” Jimin repeats for the third time. He approaches and secures his hands on your shoulders, forcibly turning you around to face him. “Are you ignoring me?” “Don’t touch me.” You shove his hands off of you, stepping back. His eyes frantically search your hurt expression and he’s utterly confused. “Please. Just don’t.” “W-What’s wrong?” “You don’t remember anything about last night?” you ask him, loudly, enough to strain your own voice. Jimin winces again. “Can you not shout at me? I have a headache.” “You said….you wanted to break up with me,” you whisper, unable to believe it yourself. When you say it with your own mouth, it stings and you want to burst out crying. Jimin watches the way your expression crumples and he pales. It slowly comes back to him in waves, vague but he begins to remember bits and pieces, enough to know what he’s done. “Hey.” Jimin reaches out, stepping closer. But he retracts his hand. “I’m sorry.” “You always are.” Maybe it shouldn’t be a big deal. He was drunk, inebriated, not in full control of his words — but to know he was even thinking about it, to know that he’s lined up the reasons for his dissatisfaction with your relationship, to hear it be said aloud, hurts. “I’m sorry. I really am.” He searches the floor and musters the courage to lift his eyes. “You don’t believe me?” “It’s not that I don’t believe you aren’t sorry,” you murmur, “I just think you’re sorry that I know what you think now.” “Oh come on, babe. Y/N.” Jimin follows you to the living room. “I didn’t mean it.” “Really?” You stop on your heel. You hate this — hate being upset and angry, hate feeling at a loss, hate spiraling out of control. “Not the part where you think I’m basically a huge burden to you now? Not the part where you want to get girls and go to parties and how I make you feel bad about doing the things you want? Not the part where you’re no longer pathetic enough to love me? Or what was it that you said, oh yeah, you’re not some sad guy pinning after me anymore.” “I was drunk.” “Were you? Or were they your sober thoughts?” He sighs in frustration. Your loud voice is worsening his headache. And this isn’t what he wanted to do first thing he woke up — he doesn’t want to argue with you. But he doesn’t know how to make it stop. “I think that it’s unfair you’re using this against me when I was wasted.” “You told me that we should break up because we don’t even see each other anymore. Because what else was supposed to happen to us,” you softly whisper, crossing your arms, holding yourself. Now that he can answer clearly, now he’s not drunk anymore, there are no excuses. “So what is that you want from us, Jimin? Do I really make you feel guilty for doing the things you want to do? Is that how you feel about me now?” “No, that’s not it. I’m...I’m sorry.” “You’re selfish,” you say, spitefully. “That’s what you are. Always have been.” Jimin scoffs outright. “Selfish?” “All you think about is yourself. What you want. What you don’t have. What you’re missing out on. You’re supposed to think about the other person in a relationship. We’re supposed to sacrifice, compromise — and you’re not willing to do that. You don’t think about me for a second, Jimin.” “Are you kidding me? I am trying my best! Everything I do is for us and our future together—” “Really? I thought we didn’t have a future in your plans.” He ignores your low jab. “I took care of you when you hated me. How’s that sacrifice for you?” “Well nobody asked! Did they?” “I love you!” Jimin shouts at the top of his lungs, making his throat dry again. “I’ve loved you longer than you loved me. Even when you were jealous of me, when you hated me, I loved you. And I still love you!” “Then why did you tell me that I make you feel bad for doing what you want?!” you’re sobbing as the last word comes out, holding your face in your hands. Guilt swallows him whole. “Because it does. I feel bad that I don’t get enough to spend enough time with you. I feel bad that we’re always waiting for the other person to come home. I feel bad about going out with the cast when I should be having fun and for taking on roles when I know it’ll be time consuming even though that’s been my dream.” You’re sobbing, shaking your head. “W-What do you want me to do?” “I don’t know.” He can’t find a solution, and he’s most certainly not going to make you give up your dream. Jimin’s not going to ask or make you do anything. Everything caused by ill timing. Caused by stress. What’s the point of being in a relationship when you can’t even see each other? It always seems like you have to choose each other or choose your ambitions. Jimin wants to say boldly that he’ll figure it out with you — that he’ll find a way to do both. He wants to hug you, to embrace you, let you cry into his shoulder as he makes more meaningless apologies. He wants to say that with time, it’ll pass, that your schedules will clear up, that the pair of you will overcome this obstacle. But he can’t bring himself to say it or to step forward. “Maybe we should take a break.” You’re taken aback. A break? So he can do whatever he wants and thinks he can still have you? “What’s that supposed to mean?” “I don’t know,” Jimin admits. “I think we just need some time away from each other to figure this out.” Without the obligation of having to see you, of having to maintain this relationship, the guilt would disappear. Maybe neither of you would have to feel so bad about yourselves. But you persist in your questions. “Figure what out? Us?” Jimin’s frustrated at why you don’t understand. “Well if you don’t like it, then maybe we should just cleanly break it off with one another. If that makes more sense to you.” “Fine,” you hiss out of unadulterated spite. His eyes widening, mouth dropping open. He’s shocked at your quick answer. Jimin’s rendered speechless, breathless. “F-Fine then…” “Get out of my apartment, Jimin.” You sniffle with your chest heaving. He can’t believe it’s happening. Everything in his mind screams for him to stop, but his body moves on its own. Then the door slams shut.

#bts fanfic #bts scenario #bts jimin fanfic #bts jimin fluff #bts jimin #jimin reader insert #jimin scenario #jimin fanfic

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ibythetidepromotions · 4 years

Text

An interview with: Wax Vessel

Could you introduce yourself to the readers?

Nik Velleca - Founder/Owner/waytolongofaresponder

What led to the inception of Wax Vessel?

It’s actually a story in a couple of parts: the name (which is not interesting), the year before it started (mildly Interesting) and then the actual launch! Maybe two years ago I really wanted to get in to the whole Instagram vinyl collection showcase scene. Made a second account called Wax Casket (because it sounded cool) and did a couple hundred posts. No big deal. But at that time, it kind of out the inkling of an idea in my head. Fast forward a year or so, and Simon from WFAHM and I were taking about how literally every influential album from 2000-2010 was never pressed on vinyl. We thought about teaming up to do Ion Dissonance in vinyl (which is still a huge goal). It never materialized, so the label pages (renamed to Wax Vessel) kind of got shelved. Speaking of the name Wax Vessel (rant incoming) I landed on that name because I’m so fed up with the start of digital. MySpace deleting song libraries. Hard drives crashing. CDs getting bit rot. The only try archival format is vinyl. You could pull a WV release of a shelf in 2219 and it would still play. It’s a “time capsule” or “Vessel” for preserving history. Anyway. Fast forward to like 5 months ago - I had just stumbled upon PRR and they told me they were doing Destroyer Destroyer. I asked if I could just press the records to accompany that release, and viola! Here we are!

Wax Vessel is very unique, you what always comes to mind when I think of extremely rare and beautiful presses. What process goes into getting your visions to come together properly at the pressing plant?

So I’m glad you touched on this, because artisanal (barf) pressings are one of the tentpole features of WV. There’s so much that can be done with the format that it seems like an insult to just do single color records. I figured if I was going to bring all of these albums back from the dead after decades of never having a physical release, it might as well be in style! Otherwise someone will just repress it hah. But each release is its own project. My goal are always to have the color play with the album art, while also pushing the physical medium itself. Everything is very case-by-case, with the number of variants and the type of variant really just being subject to my mood haha.

Recently announced was the pressing for Dr. Acula’s S.L.O.B, congratulations on making it to WV007! From the posts I’ve seen on social media, you guys are really excited about this release. How would you describe Dr. Acula to someone who has never heard of them before?

Thanks! Dr. Acula was a huge one for me, they’re one of the forefathers of Deathcore in my opinion. They’re that early, wonky type of proto-Deathcore that uses a lot of samples before breakdowns and has a lot of inside jokes. It’s just fun, without taking itself too seriously.

They obviously got much bigger later, but SLOB was such a classic album, and a standout release from 187 records at the time (who really deserve all the credit for basically being the label pioneers of the genre along with Debello and BMA).

Wax Vessel focuses on pressing music from the MySpace era of metal. What about that era made it so memorable and dear to your heart that you decided to resurrect it in the wax form?

Man, prepare to watch me get spun up on this, haha. I’m really terrible at organizing my thoughts in to a cohesive essay on the topic, so as a kind of “stream of conciseness” ramble please accept this: 2000-2010 was just peak music. It was a digital Wild West with a bunch of talented Midwesterner pioneering new sounds for niche audiences. It was a perfect storm of a bunch of cultural factors playing out all at once. Literally all of these trailblazing bands were pushing envelopes and rail blazing new genres for No monetary gain and no fame. Every single review form music media was “this is unlistenable garbage”. They absolutely did not get the recognition they deserved at the time. I mean the “scene revival/20-9-scene” is more popular than the actual scene at the time! So what happens when you mix this new way to make music (digital production) with a new way to reach fans (social media/MySpace)? You get a fucking no holds barred race to make the most niche, unlistenable music in existence. The decade was a fucking blip in music history and then was lost to the ages. The internet was too young to preserve it, and to young for anyone to really use to their advantage. Just a lost decade. So I think that’s worth preserving. Especially since YouTube rips are the only thing left.

The default vinyl color of black is never an option with your releases, always seeing high quality, creative options for your limited presses. What is the reasoning behind this stylistic choice?

Black is such a fucking cop out. It’s only to save money. It’s lazy and requires no finesse or imagination. If you’re going to press records, go all in. Like imagine building a house in 2019 with all the modern amenities and building materials we have at our disposal and just building a 6-sided box. So boring. And for everyone who says it sounds best - black (carbon) is an additive for strength. Natural PVC is additive free and sounds better. So when I need a cheaper variant to offset the cost of some of the more expensive ones, natural PVC is always my go-to.

Have there been any challenges so far with the process of mastering these old files on vinyl? Were any of the music files hard to come across?

You have no idea! I feel like a lot of people see WV and then want to start a vinyl label, haha. But there’s so much craziness behind the scenes! Let’s start at the top - WV will only do a release if the band is on board, and the rights are retained. Mechanical licensing retained. Full quality tracks hunted down and mastered for vinyl. New art made (no one has their old art files) and laid out for vinyl. Then after all that, I have to drop $4k at the plant to get it pressed. Then promos and art made, coordinating with ZBR on timelines, etc. But none of that can happen without the tracks. Most of the time the band will have the master bounces, and it’s not that difficult. But on a couple of occasions I’ve had to rip old demos from personal CDs. I’ve even had to pay for a hard drive to be recovered for a band member so we could get tracks! I really believe that vinyl isn’t just for the fashion, so having great sounding records is top priority. Can’t do that with a YouTube rip! If we can’t get the best quality tracks, I won’t do it!

Any possibility of there being Wax Vessel merch down the road?

I mean I’m not sure anyone would give a shit! But if like 10 people messaged me and said they wanted a shirt, you bet! We would whip up a cool “no represses” design or something, haha. Maybe 2020!

With a new year right around the corner, what are some goals for kicking off the new decade in 2020?

2020 souls have some cool “firsts” for sure! I’ve got our first multi-LP box set dropping. First project with a hand-painted cover. First modern release (under a different side name, don’t want to dilute the WV name haha). Really what if love to do in 2020 is press Psyopus to round out the techgrind section. That’s a big goal! I’d also love to have a both and sell LPs at like a festival, but they all sell out too quick!

Anything else you would like to tell the readers before we go? Just a couple of blurbs! People always forget that wax Vessel is a non-profit and we give 100% of the money to the bands. So remember that the next time you think I’m an asshole for not doing something you like! We got a lot of hate mail about not doing represses, haha. To that point, there will never be represses. It’s a sticking point. I don’t want to make records that end up in dollar bins and eBay lots. I’d rather leave money on the table. I want to great collector items that will be cherished. All of these bands have been defunct for a decade. No one is coming back to just to try and make a quick buck. These are all swan song little fun presses for the core group of fans. For the 200 weirdo left who still care about early 2000s techgrind and vinyl, haha. It’s niche, but no one wants to make any money. It’s just a fun thing for the scene. Remember this is all for fun! Additionally, I see a lot of miscommunications that I’d like to get on the record! Please remember: Wax Vessel is its own thing. Not an imprint or affiliated with anyone. I shoulder all cost, design, etc for everything! So it’s very much WV as the label. I hate shipping and fulfillment, so ZBR [Zegema Beach Records] is WV’s official store. The mega studs over there (Dave and Dave) definitely allow WV to exist. If I had to ship everything, it would be one release a year haha. And super not last, WV couldn’t exist without Ryan Peter. I have absolutely no scene Fred, and Ryan gets fucking results. He almost single-handedly spreads the word and gets bands on board. Literally invaluable. All the records in the world mean nothing if you can’t get any bands to agree to get pressed! He’s a MySpace madman!!

Wax Vessel Social Media:

Facebook

Instagram

Website [Coming Soon]

Big Cartel [Coming Soon]

Merch through Zegema Beach Records

#Wax Vessel #Zegema Beach Records #Record label #vinyl records #Dr Acula #interview #I By The Tide Promotions

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thepersephonecabin · 4 years

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Legacy and Bullshit Mindfuckery (fic)

Summary: Luvander has two things for the Adamo’s first child: a gift and a wish.

Please see full tags and warnings AO3

Note: So... How did we get here? Well, basically, when I was writing A Very Adamo Christmas for @foxesonstilts for the @festivebastion exchange I meant to put in a short bit about a Luvander giving Laure and Adamo’s first child a very special gift, but forgot until after finishing FestiveBastion. So I told myself I was gonna write a small addition, and then my latent need to see the airmen recover after the war took over and suddenly I had a 4k+ luvander character study on my hands. And also about halfway through my if-i-dont-write-this-right-now-i-will-never-sleep craze a tiny part of my brain was like “you should make luvander a trans man for absolutely no reason” and I did and actually really liked the way it fit into the story.

So anyway, I hope you enjoy!

A day and a half following the birth of Rory Adamo, Luvander found himself on the doorstep of the Greylace Estate once again. Wrapped in one arm, he cradles a soft drawstring bag, cream in color with a light pink ribbon around the top.

He didn’t bother knocking as he shouldered his way through the doorway. Even though he still primarily lived out of the apartment above the hat shop, this place was dragon territory, and therefore as far as he was concerned, it was his home as well.

“Hello?” he called out, slipping his shoes off at the door. Maybe if he was really lucky, Rook would come in and pitch a fit about like he would in the good old days.

Balfour emerged from the lounge with a book cracked open in his hands and questioning eyes. “Oh, Luvander. It’s you.”

“It’s me,” Luvander confirmed. “Where’s the chief and his young lady love? I had something I wanted to bring to them.”

“They’re in their bedroom, I think,” Balfour said before quickly amending, “Oh, no, not like that! I think it was just time to change her.”

“Ah,” Luvander said. “How is the not-so-little tyke anyway?”

Balfour smiled and began leading him up the stairs to Laure and Owen’s room as if Luvander hadn’t been there not two days ago. “Oh, you know. She sleeps and eats and poops and cries. Lucky the three of us don’t room up in the same area of the house as Chief Sergeant and Airlady Adamo or I’m sure we’d all be knackered already.

The three of us. Luvander knew he meant the three Second Wavers outside of Laure of course. Luvander felt a sick little spark of jealousy flare up in his stomach and not for the first time at their mention before he stamped it out with the guilt of it all.

Balfour continued, “Mom and Dad are still smitten with her though. I wager that by the sixth week in they might be out of the honeymoon stage.”

“Sixth? I don’t know if I could make it to the second,” Luvander said. Of course, he was happy to have a little niece to dote on, but Luvander had never seen much draw in the idea of having a baby you couldn’t return to its rightful owners when it began to shit itself.

Balfour laughed good-naturedly, “I think Adamo’s a bit more levelheaded than you, however.”

Luvander shrugged. “Maybe so, but I’ll stick to my instinct and take you up on that bet.”

They’d reached the Adamo bedroom now, and throught the door Luvander thought he could hear the baby’s wordless vocalization (Did most newborns make this much noise when they weren’t crying or was this one just especially talkative, he wondered) paired with Laure’s laugh and the low tenor of Adamo’s voice.

Balfour turned to him, touching Luvander’s elbow softly through his coat. Balfour wasn’t wearing his gloves today, Luvander observed. Good, he thought, he shouldn’t feel like he needed to hide them, especially not here, not with family.

“Before you go in…” Balfour began, “I wanted to ask how you were doing. I know Ghislain sailed out.”

Luvander resisted the urge to grimace. He liked to tell himself he did an okay job of deflecting everyone else’s attention away from his persistent problems with loneliness. On the good days he cracked enough jokes and sarcastic witticisms to keep the people around him too entertained to notice. On the bad days he threw himself into overworking, holed up in his workroom with little sleep and becoming overly perfectionistic about whatever he was working on until he felt like tearing it all apart again. But on the best days Ghislain was home, in this place Ghislain didn’t even think of as his home, but the place Luvander was, which in Luvander’s mind designated it as Ghislain’s home nonetheless.

Balfour, however had always been the one he couldn’t fool, and it was a fact that needled at him constantly. He didn’t enjoy it when others looked past the mask he’d so carefully crafted for himself like one of his custom hats.

Not that Luvander had anyone but himself to blame for that. Balfour always suspected Luvander’s yearning for affection and attention and approval had been more than the average loneliness, but then Luvander just had to go and fuck it up even further.

It had been at least a year and a half or maybe even two when it happened. He, Raphael, Balfour, and Rook had been drinking (because of course they had) in Balfour’s room at the Greylace Estate. These rooms were a damn sight bigger and nicer than the ones in the Old Airman, a fact that Luvander could never parse out about whether he appreciated or was annoyed by. As such, Balfour had set up a couch and a few chairs to fill the space between his bed and the opposite wall. Ever since Raphael turned up again, they’d started having little get togethers one or twice a month, alternating whose place hosted.

Then Thom’d been offered a job as a professor (a real one this time) at the ‘Versity and Rook had come back to Thremedon bitching and complaining the whole way back from whatever adventure they’d been on when they received the letter. Apparently Thom had already begun writing a letter back declining the offer when Rook found out and through some well-intentioned bullying and ripping of half-finished correspondence got Thom to accept. From Luvander’s understanding, Thom had decided immediately to pass on the job in order to continue looking after his older brother, knowing that Rook had very important reasons for staying away from Thremedon. He couldn’t ask Rook to go back there, and he didn’t feel comfortable letting Rook travel alone without eventually winding up dead in a ditch from asphyxiating from his own vomit either. According to him, Rook’s mental health had markedly approved once the Dragonsoul was destroyed and th’Esar’s plans thwarted. He’d finally been able to properly grieve, Thom said, but that didn’t mean he was ready to part ways and risk Rook relapsing without him to drag him out of it.

Rook found all this out and stubbornly refused to go along with that “bullshit mindfuckery” Thom was always practicing on account of the fact that teaching at the University had always been Thom’s dream job, and he would be damned if his little brother threw it away for his sorry ass. After all, while the ‘Versity had improved in regards to letting in more students from poorer walks of life since Thom had been awarded for his work with the Airmen, the same improvement hadn’t come in regards to hiring choices. For all any of them knew, this might be the last time a mollyrat was offered a job at the Empire’s highest learning institution in a long, long time. So, back to Thremedon they came, and Luvander, Balfour and Raphael’s little survivor’s club had expanded from three to four members. (There had always been an open invitation to Adamo as well, but he only rarely took them up on it.)

So, anyway, they’d been drinking thoroughly and Luvander more thoroughly than the rest. It’d been months since Ghislain had come to port- not his fault, some jobs simply took longer than expected- and Luvander was in the pits. That said, he’d been holding it together pretty admirably that night, and it had all been fine until Rook and Raphael left. Raphael said he had Royal Guard duty the next day- it was a job offer Luvander, Ghislain and Raphael had all received from the Esarina herself after she’d almost died by her own guards that night when they’d had to rescue the Adamos. Raphael had been the only one to accept.

But so when Raphael stood up to leave and appropriate one of the Estate’s carriages Rook also decided to leave “before the Professor starts hyperventilating over me” and figured it would just be easier to go back in one carriage. It was, in sober retrospect, a suspiciously sensical thing to come out of Rook Molly’s mouth, but who knew anymore. Luvander didn’t know what kind of bullshit mindfuckery Thom had exposed that man too while they were travelling, but Rook’d been all kinds of weird since they’d come back and by “weird” Luvander meant “vaguely decent.”

The two of them took their leave and after that the details grew fuzzy, but he did remember drunkenly confessing his depression about missing Ghislain to Balfour and Balfour being nothing but supportive as understanding.

“You’re so sweet,” Luvander had told him, slurring his words and cupping the other man’s cheek. “You know that? You’ve always been so sweet, Balfour. Sometimes I wonder how someone as sweet as you got mixed up with all of us selfish ingrates. You always deserved so much better than us. Hell, if you’d never met us assholes, you’d still have your hands.”

Balfour blushed and looked away. “My hands weren’t your guys fault, and even if I don’t have them, I have my girl and all of you. Besides, I’m not so inno-“

And that had been as far as he’d gotten before Luvander launched himself into Balfour’s lap and shoved their mouths together.

Now, it’s important to note that Luvander had always been a touchy drunk. He’s sure he’d made passes at all thirteen of the other airmen more times than he could count while trashed out of his mind. He even had one absolutely disastrous incident with Adamo that had gotten a very stern talking to about appropriate relationships between a superior officer and his subordinates the next morning. Luvander had deeply respected the things Adamo said to him at the time despite the massive hangover he was fighting his way through as he said it and the urge he had to hang himself rather than have this conversation at all. That didn’t mean he hadn’t brought up the irony of it in his speech at Laure and Adamo’s wedding, though.

Which was all to say that Luvander was no stranger to make-out sessions with his friends after a few too many drinks. In fact, drunken fooling around had been the bedrock upon which his entire relationship with Ghislain was founded. Even after Luvander and Ghislain were “official” they’d kept the relationship fairly open because Luvander wasn’t the sort to abstain from sex for months at a time while his lover was at sea. It had simply come with the condition that if anything that strayed from the “casual sex” territory and into the “feelings” territory had be to discussed- Ghislain wasn’t jealous about Luvander being with other people physically, but he was jealous about having to share Luvander’s heart and overprotective at times about the idea of someone taking advantage of Luvander’s emotions.

This had been different though. This kiss with Balfour hadn’t been borne of happy delirium or playfulness like most of his less-than-sober escapades were. This had been borne of deep, deep sorrow. A desperate effort to patch a leak in a dam ready to burst. The other reason it was different was because Balfour had only had had two drinks that night, and Luvander had had at least five times that.

On the bright side, if one had to have such a mortifying experience in their lives, Luvander could think of very few people better to have it with than Balfour Vallet.

The epitome of gentlemanly behavior, Balfour had gently broken off the kiss and softly and without malice told him that they couldn’t do this, not when Luvander was so intoxicated. Luvander had nodded and understood, but then broken into wracking sobs as he blubbered about how fucking alone he felt all the time. Balfour let him cling to him like a security blanket even though Luvander was still straddling him and repeatedly assured him that he didn’t care if Luvander covered his shirt with snot and tears.

Then Luvander woke up the next morning on Balfour’s couch with a blanket draped over him. His clothes were all intact with the exception of his shoes and his binder which he had a bad habit of sleeping in and Balfour knew it. Balfour must have peeled it off once Luvander had passed out along with the boots and then buttoned Luvander’s shirt back up and even replaced his signature scarf. Both binder and boots were now neatly laid out on the coffee table with care.

There were still a few bottles of alcohol too, and ordinarily he might have been tempted to drink them. This time though, he reckoned he’d done enough damage under the influence for one day.

That was about when Balfour appeared, already dressed for the day and carrying a tray of water and coffee. “Oh, you’re awake,” he’d said, kicking the door shut behind him. He sat next to Luvander on the couch and set the tray on the table. “I hope you don’t mind that I took off your…” he said awkwardly, wringing his hands like he always did.

It took Luvander a moment to understand he was talking about the binder. “Oh. Oh no, it’s- Balfour, I know you’d never do anything to me or go further than protecting my ribs from some rather tragic pain in the morning. And it’s not anything you haven’t seen in the showers before. If anything I think when it comes to invasions of peoples’ personal boundaries, I should be the one apologizing to you right now. What happened last night… the way I just went after like that was unconscionable and I promise it will never happen again. In fact, I wouldn’t blame you in the slightest if you never wanted to see me again.”

Balfour looked shocked. “Of course, I don’t want that. What happened last night wasn’t ideal, obviously, but you were plastered and having a rough day. I get it.”

Luvander could’ve both laughed and cry at that. “But it wasn’t just a bad day. It was… Bal, I think I have a problem.” He could practically feel the bile coming up just from saying those words out loud, but he told himself that if there was ever the time to admit it to anyone, this was it so he continued: “I think maybe I always had. Even before Xi’an it was like this, just not as intense or constant. I don’t know how to be alone. I don’t know how to feel unimportant or like I’m not the center of attention without letting it control me. When there were fourteen of us I could ignore it, right? Because there was always someone around, but now…” He wiped away tears with his scarf and adjusted it anxiously. “And, like, the way this place just fucking tossed all of us out like yesterday’s trash the second they didn’t need us anymore and that blasted medal ceremony was over didn’t exactly help.”

Balfour nodded slowly. “I think I know the feeling or at least a fraction of it. I felt so isolated and broken at the end of the war, but even before that I… well, I suppose I always felt like I was second to Amery.”

Luvander felt another pang of guilt. None of them had been sure how to react when Balfour replaced his brother in the Corps, but Rook more than anyone. Before Amery died he’d been the one of them that Rook was closest to, so Balfour’s presence was anything but welcome to him. So, whenever Rook had a problem, Balfour was usually who he took it out on. And Luvander had always just let him. Because sometimes crossing Rook was like crossing god in that house, but it didn’t excuse how cowardly he’d been.

“Got feminine parts between his legs, airman’s honor.”

That’s what Rook had said about Balfour when he’d tried to be kind to Thom that first day when the Professor had them do introductions. Even then, Luvander, the real one with “feminine parts” among them was sitting right there, and he hadn’t said shit to stop Rook.

(Luvander had always felt Rook didn’t mind trans men as much as he minded trans women. Something about the way trying to be more masculine was seen as noble, while trying to be more feminine made you a Mary in a world where women were always seen as lesser. But he also felt like Rook’s somewhat backwards and begrudging acceptance of Luvander’s presence was conditional, like it was something that he was able to revoke at the barest hint of insubordination. Luvander was tolerated as long as he fought well and shut up and was cruel like him, but that didn’t mean it was real. At least Thom had seemed to have trained some of that out of Rook over the years, but it was still a nagging fear for Luvander.)

Luvander didn’t say any of that. He just said, “I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to fix it.” I don’t know how to fix me.

Balfour escorted him to the ‘Versity after that and made him talk to Thom about it. Thom being Thom, of course, looked at it as the academic he was. He talked about all kinds of fancy words like ‘schizoid’ and ‘histrionic’ and ‘dependent personality’. Basically, Thom said he couldn’t be sure exactly what the problem was without examining further. But he assured Luvander that there were coping mechanism they could try and that he had colleagues from the ‘Versity that he could ask for more medically focused advice as compared to Thom’s social theory perspectives.

Bullshit mindfuckery, Luvander remembered. As much as he wasn’t thrilled at the idea of Thom “examining” his psyche, he was significantly less thrilled about a perfect stranger doing it. At least he could trust Thom. At least Thom knew jackshit about how the airmen worked beyond the court gossip and bards’ song and those fucking statues that made them war heroes and not real people anymore. At least Thom was there when he woke up on an infirmary bed unable to talk for how deep his throat had been slit only to find out that four out of fourteen of them had come back. Even if Thom had been beside himself with grief, unaware that number five, Rook, was still breathing somewhere out there, at least Thom had borne witness for himself what they’d gone through, and Luvander wasn’t about to have to hash all of that to someone new.

But he couldn’t sit on his hands and not accept help when it was offered. Because he’d made Balfour a promise. He’d promised that he would never kiss Balfour again without fair and honest consent, plastered or not, and he’d meant it. He had so few friends left in this world. He wasn’t about to lose another due to his own selfishness and stupidity.

And so, he gave himself into the bullshit mindfuckery. He’d been meeting with Thom once every one or two weeks (or more than that if something set him off and crisis called for it). It was helping, Luvander thought. Slowly but surely.

Back in the present, Luvander shrugged at Balfour noncommittally. “It sucks, but I’m seeing the Professor tomorrow. And I guess now if I need someone to keep me company I could come and let the baby keep me busy so Mom and Dad can have some alone time.”

Balfour smiled at him. “You could have come over anyway. Well, I won’t push for specifics, but if you want to talk later…”

“I know where to find you,” Luvander confirmed.

Balfour gave him a bigger smile now. “Okay. I’ll let you talk to them then,” he said, and began descending the stairs, leaving Luvander at the at the door to the Adamo’s room.

He knocked briskly on the door and heard the Chief say, “Come in,” from the other side.

When Luvander opened the door, he found Laure on the bed over the covers cradling not-so-little Rory and making faces at her. Adamo was over by the radiator holding a bottle over the heat.

“Ah, I thought I heard someone out there talking to Balfour,” Laure said. “I didn’t know you were coming over today, but then again, I don’t think the pregnancy brain is totally out of my system yet.”

Laved waved moved to sit on the bed at her feet and waved her off with a hand. “It was unannounced. I had a gift for the baby and thought I’d bring it over.”

“Oh, that was thoughtful of you,” Adamo remarked walking over. To his credit, he only let a sliver of the wariness of a man who put up with thirteen uncontrollable ever-pranking monsters with dubious respect for authority for Regina even knows how long it’s been slip into his voice.

Luvander took the drawstring bag from the crook of his elbow and held it in his lap. “Well, I started working on this once you announced she was on her way. I guess I could have given it to you earlier, but it just felt like I should wait to give it to Rory in person. And of course, I didn’t exactly know you would choose to go into labor in a blizzard, so I didn’t have it on me the other night.”

He had a million things to say, a million possible preambles he could make, but he figured it was best to just show them. So, he pulled open the drawstrings, reached in, and pulled the carefully constructed figure of silver-grey fabric and held it up for inspection.

Adamo looked too shocked to say anything. Laure’s mouth had dropped into a soft “o” shape. But Rory had caught sight of her new toy and vocalized with one hand in her mouth and the other reaching out toward him with demanding hands. Bossy, he thought, Like her dad.

“I’m not sure I got all the details right since I was working off memory, plus she never really let me get that close to her anyway, but… Here she is,” Luvander said, because in his hands was a very small plush dragon.

“Is that…” Laure began.

“Proudmouth,” Adamo breathed. “Can I see her?”

“Of course,” Luvander said.

Adamo took it from him as if squeezing too hard would make it turn to nothing in his hands, turning it from side to side to see all the craftsmanship Luvander had put into it. Embroidered patterns where Proudmouth’s metal had been engraved, carefully cut and stabilized fabric made to take the shape of gears, a brass-colored ribbon where brass-colored brass reigns would’ve been. Every detail down to the shape of her claws had taken hours to craft and even more hours of meditating and sifting through bittersweet memories to recover. And here were the fruits of his labor all pieced together. Finally, Adamo let out a breath and said, “Looks just like her.”

“Well when you two starting talking about having kids, I wanted think of something special I could pass down to them, and eventually thought, well, every Adamo needs a dragon, right?” Luvander said. “So, I settled myself of making a different for each of your kids, if you have more that is. And it felt important that Rory got Proudmouth as your firstborn. I think… I think if things had turned out differently than they did Proudmouth could have been her birthright what with the way Anastasia picked two Vallets in a row to ride her.”

Adamo’s face as always was had to read, but somehow with a dragon in his hands, he looked years younger, and Luvander could tell whatever he was feeling he was feeling a lot of it.

Then Adamo smiled and said, “Thank you. It’s perfect, Luvander, really. I guess we should give Rory her girl and see if they choose each other.”

He passed the dragon to his daughter’s grasping hands, and they all watched as Rory immediately pulled Proudmouth to her chest.

“I think that’s your answer,” Laure laughed, dabbing at her eyes.

And in that moment, it seemed to Luvander that the world shone brighter. Welcoming a new generation was always hard, especially when the old one had lost so much, but it felt nice to be able to give the Airmen a proper legacy- one that wasn’t bronzed in statues, written in theses, or whispered behind hands at palace balls. But one that was simple- from father to daughter. And wrapped up in that gifted legacy was a wish, the most powerful wish Luvander had ever made, sewn into every stitch and seam: I wish that the ones who come after us won’t need our bullshit mindfuckery in the first place.

And then, Rook ruined the moment when they all heard a loud bang of the front door opened way too forcefully, followed by “BASTION FUCKING DAMNIT, WHO LEFT THEIR BOOTS IN THE DAMNED DOORWAY, I THOUGHT I DIDN’T HAVE TO DEAL WITH THIS SHIT ANYMORE!”

Laure, Owen, and Luvander all looked at each other, and all at once they burst into laughter.

#volstovic cycle #havemercy #the oc's #rebloggable #my fic #screams into the void im actually so proud of this fic and i dont know why #also i know janie isn't on tumblr anymore but i just think of her every time i write about luvander so im wondering if it would be weird to #hey remember me? probably not we talked like 2 times but i wrote a fic about luvander and i miss seeing you in the fandom because i dont ha #ve a pillowfort

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james-bucky-barnackle · 6 years

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Two Night Stand (Part 3)

Synopsis: (AU) You can’t wait for your contract to end and get that recommendation to get an actual job as a writer so you found yourself at a club drinking away to forget about the stress of your shitty job as the assistant of the biggest Editor in New York, you end up hooking up with the man of your dreams only to wake up to a nightmare when you find out he’s the son of your boss.

PART 2 | 2NS Masterlist

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: none

Word Count: 4k

A/N: I'm sorry I took sooooo long to update this! I just had a writer’s block :(( ALSOOOO, this whole fic is actually inspired by Tove Stryke’s album - SWAY, so check that out if you want to know what I listen to when I write this fic ok bye. (gifs not mine its from tenor)

“This is me,” I say as we get to the front of Winnie’s building. He moves closer to touch my back and was about to plant a kiss on my cheeks, when he quickly realizes we’re on a hazard zone. We both laugh, I bite my lips, he is such a dream.

“Where’s your next appointment at?” I ask, as he fishes his pocket for his phone.

“It was actually the building next to where we did the fitting,” he scratches his head. What?! He sees my surprised face. “I just wanted to spend six blocks with you,” I blush for the nth time. He’s ridiculous, I shake my head.

“You sir are out of your mind,” his head is shyly hanging low.

“I’ll see you soon?” his blue eyes look into mine, does he have magic gems in them? What is wrong with me? This is unfair. I wish I could look at someone with puppy dog eyes and get what I want.

“Yeah, sure. Let me just turn in my resignation letter and we’ll be on our merry way.” Of course it’s a joke. I feel like I’m 12, hiding my middle school boyfriend from my parents. He laughs again, I’m pretty sure passers by look at us like we’re patients fresh out of the mental hospital. Especially with me, I’m probably the one with the stray jacket smiling like an idiot. Now he bites his lips, we both have places to be and yet here we are standing stuck on the concrete sidewalk like lamp posts oddly placed too close together.

“Y/N?” Shit, I whip my head and I see Nat. Holy crap I thought it was Winifred. You know what? I’m too jumpy and nervous that even if it was a grown man’s voice, I’d still think it was Winnie. “Good afternoon, Sir Barnes,” she greets Bucky as soon as she sees who I’m standing next to. She knows who he is?! I work with his mother and I didn’t know who he was. I immediately take a step away from him. Nat raises her eyebrows at me and gives me a suspicious look that says What’s going on Y/L/N? And I reply with a Don’t look at me like that! Look that has my nostrils flaring. I see Bucky try to hide his amused expression. What did he even find attractive about me? Probably my stupid expressions, right.

“I-uh have to go, thanks for helping me, Y/N.” He sneaks in, and in a split second touches my arm before he waves at Nat and I see Vision pulling up the driveway. When did that happen?

“Bye,” I reply as he gives me this look that I know already says a paragraph for my haywire brain. He gets inside the car and they start driving off. I smile like I’m waving off my husband before he leaves for work, like the pearl necklace wearing housewives from the 60’s cereal commercials.

“Why do I feel like you’ve had way too much fun on that errand?” Oh right, Nat. I quickly purse my lips together, blowing air into my cheeks as I try to hide my smile. Nat’s not stupid. Am I high? Is this what it feels like? The smile isn’t going away, my cheeks are filled with air. I shake my head like a five-year old. Nat pinches my side.

“Ow! Hey!”

“You’re gonna get into so much trouble.”

“I’m not! What for?” I play dumb with her, so far she knows the title of this suspicion, and not the content. I’m still safe.

“I saw how you two looked at each other,” okay, maybe she saw a little trailer too. We start walking towards the building’s doors.

“I just helped him with the fitting, he was just thankful for the help,” I’ve said help twice, at this point I might as well add one more, since third time’s the charm, am I right? Nat nods at me, she’s suddenly nonchalant. Wait a minute, that’s it? She quit? Normally, she doesn’t stop until she knows everything. Okay, I’m not complaining. Good, I guess my secret’s still safe, then. We enter the elevator, floor number thirty here we go.

*Ding!*

“You what?!” Whoops, guess not.

“Don’t tell anyone! I’ll take care of Bruce’s dog for you!” Bruce is her boyfriend, and he has this french bulldog that he’d ask Nat to walk every night. Nat would rather be staying at home binge watching the making of a murderer than walking that cute hound. She hated that dog. How could anyone hate that dog? Sure he jumps a lot at people, but it’s because he’s excited. He’s a dog, what does she expect it to do? Walk around at home on two feet and wash the dishes?

“Fine, and you better be the one to give him his baths as well,”

“What does Bruce even do?”

“He feeds him”

“Are we a committee? It’s one dog Nat, you don’t need a village to raise a dog.”

“Are you gonna shut up or am I gonna unzip my mouth, because there’s your boss.” Oh shit, I scowl at her. I walk and immediately follow Winifred just before she gets to the door of her office and open it for her. She walks to her table and I replace her coffee with a new one, thank god I didn’t forget to get one on the way with Bucky. She lowers her glasses and peers at me like I’m a parasite.

“Tell me your not wearing that to the dinner meeting.”

“I’m- uh not.”

“I didn’t think so.” she lifts her glasses back up. I sigh, and fake a smile and snarl as soon as I turn my back. My phone beeps, it’s Sam, saying he’ll be ready to pick us up in thirty minutes, I tell Winifred and leave to sit at my desk. I open my drawer and pick a mirror up giving myself a once over. Maybe, the messy bun wasn’t ideal for a meeting at the Eleven Madison Park. I look like a bozo, do people even still use that word? I shake my head. I hear steps behind me, I look to see that it’s Clint. Just the person I need to get me out of this wardrobe disaster.

“Clint!” He turns around, a sudden glee to his face. He already knows it’s for a makeover, he skips in my direction. I laugh at his expression and I lift one of my camisole straps to signal the SOS and he points to the elevator. I give him a huge grin as I follow him to the lift. He presses floor number twenty, my favorite floor; the best floor, to be honest. I’m already excited, and I can tell he is too. Clint’s the art director, he’s the kindest. The moment I got in the View, he’s been a hero to me. He’s really close with Winnie, that’s why I was really anxious around him at first. But he was the only one who ate with me the first lunch I had in the building and even gave me a tour, and showed me all the ropes so I didn’t have to be such a nuisance to Winnie, not knowing where each department was located and what they did. The elevator doors open and I gasp, I feel like I’m in heaven. Racks of clothes, shoes and bags all over the whole floor. This was a luxury I could never see myself have in a million years.

“Come, sweetie let’s fix-” he gestures his hands over me like he’s swatting a fly, “whatever that is.” I shake my head and smirk.

“I’m ready.”I blow air up the strand of hair that’s fallen in front of my face.

Everytime me and Clint are together, he always tells me the best gossip. I rarely have any to share, but I’ve definitely been more observant of our coworkers. We’re at the aisle where the dresses are all lined up neatly. I see this gorgeous white off the shoulder dress that’s fitted. Clint sees me eyeing it, and pulls it from the rack. I put my hands up,

“Oh, no. I can’t wear that. I might stain it, and I definitely don’t have the money to replace that.”

“Honey, it’s all yours. I didn’t even know we still had this, it was for a 2015 photoshoot with Natalie Portman.” I almost trip, I’m I really serious about this? He pushes the dress onto me.

“Just wear it.” It’s not like I didn’t have a hint of disdain for it, he didn’t really have to ask twice. I ran to the dressing room and hope it fits. I pull my hair tie letting my hair snake behind my back. Okay, this looks really good. I’ve never really worn white before, and now that I’m pretty much checking myself out in the mirror, I think I’ll wear white more often. When I open the dressing room curtains, I see Clint holding nude stilettos, he’s literally my fairy godfather. I hug him tight, and I break free when he taps my shoulders, “oops, sorry. Too much?”

“Too much,” he replies.

“You’re. The. Best.”

“You owe me-”

“I know,” I kiss him on the cheek, thank him and say goodbye. I think I’m gonna have to start making a list of people I owe. I make a quick stop at one of the vanity tables at the far end of the floor and put a light dab of makeup on my face. Mostly just highlighter, lipstick and mascara. I steal a few pumps of the perfume on the table too, what good would it be working at the View if you couldn’t take advantage of the makeup lying around the styling department? I give myself one more look in the mirrored wall, and then click on the elevator buttons, now we wait. When I get back to my desk, I grab my iPad and a notebook just because, and stuff it all in my bag. I check everything, Winnie included. Sam’s already texted me that he’s already downstairs. I open Winnie’s office doors just as I see her standing up, and she gives me a smile- it looks like a genuine one. I tried to look into what it meant, it can’t be a real smile. Does she know I stole Natalie Portman’s dress? Holy shit she’s probably going to fire-

“Someone’s finally looking like a real employee,” she says as she walks out the door, I clutch the door handle tighter. Did she just compliment me?! Oh my gosh I wish I had it all on tape. This is never gonna happen again. I nod and am not even sure if I should thank her, she might think I’m too low if I thank her for that, that was definitely a compliment. I close the door and lock it, and when I turn around, she’s staring at the bag sitting on my desk. It’s the canvas tote bag, there goes my compliment, gone in a second.

“Go back inside, grab my black Louis Vuitton hand bag, borrow that,” what have you done with my boss?! “And throw this dust rug out,” there’s my girl.

I open her office door again and go inside to get the bag, I can’t wrap my head around this. Is this really happening? Is she high? What is going on? I see the bag on her shelf and grab it, it’s light, I open it and voila! It’s already empty, okay no need to declutter. I clutch it and leave the room. As soon as she sees me lock the door for the second time, she’s started making her way to the lift. I grab my tote and dump everything into the Louis Vuitton. I can’t believe she’s letting me borrow her bag, surely this has to be broken, maybe there’s a hole in it. I jump when I hear her voice interrupt my silent inspection.

“It’s in perfect condition. Don’t - ruin it,” yes, ma’am I gulp.

“Hi Sam,”

“Good evening Winnie,” he nods his head at her. “--hot damn!” he says when he looks to greet me, I nudge him with my shoulders and laugh. He opens the car for us and we drive to the venue. I open my iPad and scroll through the people that will be present at the meeting. Winnie doesn’t really give a damn about remembering names, you only ever need to know hers. Looks like Ken doll’s gonna be there too, that’s neat. Lowkey wished he was there too. I mentally smack myself, I’ve had way too much of him already, I’m being so selfish. Or am I? It’s not everyday you get to meet a guy like him. Okay focus, I scroll through the agenda and the topics that will be addressed for the meeting- hmm, so there’s an announcement. Oh boy, Winnie does not like to be surprised, this better be good. In a few minutes, we arrive and Sam opens the door for Winnie while I help myself out. The place is perfect, the ambiance warm and elegant. Sam parks the car and I follow behind Winnie. The host immediately ushers us to the table, located in one of the far corner of the restaurant, the perfect place for privacy.

As soon as we near the table, a man dressed in a very expensive suit stands up and lowers his shades, of course he’s wearing shades at night, and indoors, beside him is a statuesque blonde angel. I raise my eyebrows and lower them quickly as I whisper onto Winifred’s ears.

“Tony Stark of Stark Industries and Pepper Potts, the new CEO,” Winnie fakes a smile like I’m telling her something else as Tony removes his shades and the two of them hug, she hugs Pepper just after. He helps her to her seat, and before he sits on his, he gives me a once over. Okay, big guy. I speak onto Winnie’s ears like I’m her conscience, but instead of giving her advice on how to be a more decent human being, I’m telling her people’s profiles. By the time I’ve finished introducing everyone to her seated around the table silently, not wanting them to know Winnie is completely unaware of who a lot of them are, it’s probably been 20 minutes. Food has started being served, and I’m allowed myself a salad, before Winnie judges my eating habits. The last time she saw me eating, it was at my desk, sneaking bites of my cheeseburger, she looked like she wanted to puke.

“What’s the announcement Stark?” her voice is cold.

“Don’t wanna wait until dessert?” Stark replies.

“I don’t do dessert, sugar is the devil’s work.” Well Winnie, if you really wanna know what the devil’s work is, you might want to look in the mirror.

“Okay, I want to sponsor the View’s annual fashion ball.” I almost drop my fork, I immediately grab the glass and drink water, not wanting to be asked my opinion. Winnie’s paused, she’s silent, but she suddenly huffs, a small chuckle escaping from her lips.

“What do you want this year’s theme to be? Bolts and screws?” Stark’s the lead innovator for technological advancements, Winnie’s such a drag.

“I thought the Winnie could make fashion out of anything, bolts and screws too hard for you?” I can hear the mortal combat narrator saying “fight”. Tony raises his glass, Winnie smirks at him.

“Very well, what purpose does it serve to sponsor this year’s ball?”

“I’m venturing out into other things,”

“Fashion being one of them?”

“Winnie, when have I ever looked bad?”

“Well you did have this one time where you wore that ugly-”

“Besides the point,” I hide a giggle as I lowered my glass to continue munching on my greens. “I’m trying to reach out to new demographics, and it’s good PR, trying to fix last year’s bad run,” he continues chewing on his steak. Last year was a mess, his prototypes were stolen which was ironic considering his inventions were designed to ensure safety and security. Getting those stolen without the alarms going off in his own house, doesn’t really speak reliable. I already know Winnie’s gonna accept the offer, it’s her plan all along, she’s had one of Stark’s board members talk the idea to Stark, and Winnie uses drama to spark attention to her projects. Looks like Stark’s gonna be this year’s headliner. Tony bids a quick goodbye right after Winnie says yes and leaves Pepper to handle anything else, and the meeting continues and I’ve noticed Steve isn’t here yet, that’s not good, Winnie’s not gonna like that. Dessert’s already on the roll and I try to ignore Winnie’s glare when she sees the waiter put down a slice of cheesecake in front of me. I deserve this, let me be woman. As I take a chunk in, I hear one of the other people in the meeting ask Winnie.

“I heard your son’s in town, will he be attending the ball?” I immediately bite the spoon at the thought of him.

“Of course he would,” Winnie answers as a matter of factly.

“Any idea who his date might be?” my stomach drops, now that’s sad. He’s probably not gonna ask me, I mean who even am I? We’ve just met last night, and I can already see every hollywood tabloid making all sorts of nasty titles if he brought an unknown to the red carpet. Why am I even thinking about this? Of course he’s not gonna ask me, I’m a nobody, and hello? Earth to Y/N? We’ve known each other for what, two days?

“Probably the girl he was caught kissing by the paparazzi,” a woman from the other end of the table sneaks in. Wait what? Why that motherfucker, I knew it! He’s such a playboy, why did I not see that coming?

“Who? When?!” I hear Winnie, she’s shocked too. I fish for my phone, and immediately ask good ol’ google who exactly this girl is. I start typing his name.

“Her identity’s still a mystery to me, I thought you’d know Winnie. Looks like young Barnes is keeping secrets from his mother now,” oh you bet, he is, who could this woman be?! This morning?! He probably went out with someone before he came by Winnie’s office.

“It was just this morning, I saw the photos on Twitter too,” the guy chimes in. I’m scrolling rapidly on one of ET’s website, and I gasp. Winnie looks at me and raises her eyebrows, probably wishing I was dead for sneaking a gasp in between their conversation.

“Sorry! I don’t hiccup like normal people.” She rolls her eyes at me, I’m glad she let’s it go and immediately goes back with her conversation. I quickly exit my browser and put my phone in my bag. I’ve seen the photo, of Bucky and the girl he was kissing. She was wearing an orange camisole, denim jeans with her hair in a bun and her hands on Bucky’s shoulders. My heart jumps out of my body. Winnie can’t see that photo. I am dead. My face wasn’t seen, my back was turned to the camera, but I’m now time travelling through earlier events in my mind, did she know what I was wearing?! Okay, I came to her office, with the coats from Balmain, so I was covered, right? And when I excused myself out of the office, she didn’t even notice me that much since she was so focused on her dear Bucky. And now, I’m wearing this white off shoulder dress… Holy fuck, “Tell me your not wearing that to the dinner meeting,” my jaw drops, her voice repeats through my head over and over again. She’s seen me, in those exact same clothes, in that exact same hairstyle. I wished I was a different skin color right now, that would’ve saved my ass. But no, my palms suddenly feel sweaty. I’m thinking of what I could do. This is not happening, not yet. Oh my gosh, I can’t even think straight. Great, now I have to keep Winnie from ever seeing those paparazzi photos, which would be fucking hard because she’s got eyes everywhere! I’m surprised she hasn’t even seen it.

“If she’s got her back turned, what good would it be for me to look at it?” WHAT? I’m gonna start putting fruits on the altars of every religion I know. I’m thankfully confused, I have no idea what just happened. Why does it feel like I’m gonna get away with this? “She’s probably just one of my son’s models.” Okay this is gonna sound very contradictory, but 1) models? She thinks I’m a model? No wait, she hasn’t seen the photos; 2) his models?!

But being in this situation, sitting next to Winifred, iPad on my lap recording the meeting for me to type the transcript on my laptop later, Bucky’s sort of fading away, he sure is an eye candy… well, an actual candy… But my fear of Winnie definitely defeats dating him. These two Barnes are pulling me on two opposite directions, and I’m whacked not knowing where to go, I’m not so excited about meeting Mr. Barnes now, which direction is he gonna pull me into? I try not to even imagine. My heart is still pounding like crazy, Winifred wins - for now. Maybe try not to walk and kiss him in public, Y/N? That’d be great.

“Well Winnie, looks like the tabloids are not gonna let that paparazzi photo slide,” Pepper chirps in. No Pepper, shhh, be on my side, I thought you were an angel? I’m having your wings cut. She looks like she enjoys this topic. A voice jolts my body just as I try to grab my glass to have another drink.

“One week and I’m already the talk of the town.” I pull my head up slowly as if a camera’s zooming in to capture my blank expression. I’m wiped clean, how many emotional roller coasters do I have to experience? I want out. Of course, he’s here, of course.

“James!” Winnie kisses him on the cheek as he takes a seat just in front of me, great. Steve quickly follows behind him. “Steve,” Winnie grunts, “where have the two of you been? We’ve already finished the meeting!’

“Had something to turn in the office, I borrowed Steve for a bit,” Bucky replied as he gave me a wink, I kick him from under the table and gave him a quick stare. He looks to his side laughing. Steve takes the seat beside Winnie.

“Learn to look at the time James, and Y/N” I look up way too fast, “just email the transcript to Steve after you’ve done it.” I nod robotically.

“So who is it?” Pepper’s voice hums in the air.

“Who is?” Bucky answers, as he calls a waiter.

“The girl in the pap photo.” Pepper smirks.

“They’re that fast?” I’m about to burst into flames, in 6 months, I thought I’ve gone through the worst working in the View, but this boy right in front of me, has been giving me both heaven and hell. He really wants me to get in trouble.

“Stop making it longer than it has to be,” Steve interrupts, I look at him and see him smiling right at me. Oh. My. Gosh. He. Knows. I feel like my makeup has peeled off my face.

“Why don’t you guys just mind your own business?” he laughs as he points an accusing finger at Steve and shakes his head at Pepper.

“Guess Bucky’s already booked for this year’s ball,”

“Only if she agrees,” Bucky replies as I feel his feet playfully swinging at mine underneath the table. Oh my, here we go.

PART 4

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epicstuckyficrecs · 5 years

Text

July 15th-21st

Under a Read More this week because it’s pretty long! I also added a new “re-read” category! :)

You can find my other Weekly Recaps here!

Complete

The First Breaking Point by justanotherStonyfan/ @justanotherstonyfan (Shrunkyclunks, future AU | 20K | Mature): There are cameras, because there always have been, but seeing it in person is far more arresting, watching Steve prepare to deliberately talk about it is different. “Eleven years ago,” Steve says, and James remembers it - James was eight years old, “in the winter of 2015, I had what the media now commonly refers to as a breakdown.” (💙 Part 26 of Honey Honey)

The Most Wonderful Time by justanotherStonyfan/ @justanotherstonyfan (Shrunkyclunks, future AU | 42K | Explicit): Everybody tears into their wrapping paper - actually, that’s not true. James’ whole family aside from Chip is, much like Steve, a family of pickers. Anthea, and Becca, and James all open their gifts by carefully peeling the tape back and removing the paper like sleeves. “Huh,” Steve says, and does the same because he always has with fancy paper. He and Buck used to wrap with newspaper if they could afford gifts at all. On the rare occasions they managed brown paper, Steve treated it like gold leaf. (💙 Part 27 of Honey Honey)

Truth in Fiction by dixons_mama (Evanstan RPF | 4K | Explicit): Chris has just received the new Avengers script, and Steve is going to kiss Bucky. Considering Chris has been in love with Sebastian for nearly a decade, he should be excited, but this isn't exactly how he'd (often) imagined it happening.

where women glow and men plunder by rohkeutta/ @rohkeutta (Modern AU, Australia | 3K | Mature): When the snake doesn't show any signs of leaving in a few more minutes, Steve grudgingly goes inside to retrieve his phone and the post-it with James’s number. Not ten minutes later, there’s the clatter of skateboard wheels against pavement, and then the most beautiful man Steve has ever seen rolls onto the driveway, like some absurdly stunning Australian reincarnation of Napoleon riding on a longboard to conquer Steve’s Bavarian body.

💙 tiny cities made of ashes by mambo/ @whtaft (canon divergent | 4K | Mature): Their plan has three parts: disable Bucky's kill triggers, find a ship, and leave the planet. So they go to New York to find someone who can help them with step one. (💙 Part 3 of child of thanos)

good news for people who love bad news by mambo/ @whtaft (Canon divergent | 1,8K | Explicit | Warnings: Violence, MCD): Before they leave the planet, the Captain has an errand to run. (💙 Part 5 of child of thanos)

💙 Fraternizing With the Enemy by AidaRonan (University AU | 7K | Explicit): Steve and Bucky are both the presidents of their respective fraternities. Steve thinks Bucky's frat is filled with selfish party animals who care about little else. Bucky thinks Steve is a giant pretentious douchebag who owns too many Lacoste polos. They hate each other. Passionately. Until they don't.

Drive by AidaRonan (PWP | 3,2K | Explicit): Steve and Bucky are hanging out at Carol and Maria's when the thirst hits. Or sometimes you lay eyes on a super-muscular Carol Danvers and it ruins your life.

Fists and Honey by AidaRonan (Canon | 3,6K | Teen): "When did you know?" Sam asks Bucky, sending him back to 1938 and the feeling of Steve's lips on the back of his neck.

My anaconda don't want done unless you got scones hun by AidaRonan (Shrunkyclunks | 3,6K | Mature): The barista's latte art doesn't quite go as planned. Given the day Steve's been having, it kinda figures.

What Colors Would I Be? by AidaRonan (PWP | 2,8K | Explicit): On a too-hot summer day, Steve finally puts the moves on his gorgeous landscaper. The landscaper doesn't mind.

Two Strays in Bucharest by AidaRonan (Post/WS | 1,6K | General): He hears the cry from a mile away. Desperate and high and wailing. He’s drawn to it like a moth to a lit match, his boots turning to follow before he can even think to question why.

la vie en rose by mcwho (PWP | 1,4K | Explicit): Steve bends Bucky over the marble bathroom sink of Casa de L’Amour right before their starter salad.

💙 Covet Thy Neighbor's Towel by dixons_mama (PWP | 2,3K | Explicit): After stumbling upon his nearly naked neighbor, Bucky decides he's never needed to be fucked so badly in his life.

My Boyfriend Calls Me Daddy, Too by cydonic (Modern AU, Parent!Steve | 5K | Explicit): As a father, you get used to being called Daddy. Just not by your boyfriend. (sequel to Home Is Wherever I'm With You)

WIP

💙 This Side of the Blue by notlucy/ @notlucy (Mermaid AU | 19/44 | 69K | Explicit): Tucked against a set of crumbling, stone steps was a tank made of metal and glass, filled to the brim with greenish water, distorted sunlight filtering through and casting strange shadows. Playing tricks on the eye. A trick was the only explanation for what Steve saw floating there. This figment of his childhood. This myth. This legend. Within the tank, the siren bared its teeth.

💙 come as you are by silentwalrus/ @silentwalrus1 (Post-WS AU | 25K | 3/? | Explicit): Steve comes back to the States. He pursues truth, justice and the American way. Bucky comes back too. He pursues inebriation and intercourse. (Part 3 of Bucky Barnes Gets His Groove Back & Other International Incidents)

Solitary by exclamation (Canon divergent | 33/? | 82K | Mature): The Winter Soldier has been a prisoner of SHIELD for about a year and a half, placed in solitary confinement under strict security when it was clear he wasn’t going to respond to the best interrogators and deprogrammers SHIELD had available. When Fury asks a newly awakened Steve Rogers to assist, Steve is hesitant. He doesn’t understand why Fury thinks he would have a better chance of getting through to this guy than all the people who have tried and failed.

💙 four dreams in a row where you were burned by voxofthevoid/ @voxofthevoid (canon divergent, post-Endgame, 1945 alternate timeline | 4/? | 21K | Explicit): When Steve uses the last of his Pym Particles to travel to 1944 and save his best friend, he doesn’t have a plan beyond leaving behind the battlefield and living his life alongside the people he loves.But the life that finds him is not the one he expects.

💙 Cause you can’t, you won't, and you don't stop by redhook (Modern AU, roommates, FWB | 1,9K | 1/? | Explicit): It isn't like they're actually fucking or anything. It's fine.

Cakes & Balances by mambo/ @whtaft (POTUS Steve | 8K | 4/? | Teen): It’s kind of hard to date the cute baker from down the street when you’re the President of the United States of America. But Steve Rogers will make it work.

💙 Like Real People Do by 2bestfriends (Shrunkyclunks, canon divergent post-Avengers | 6K | 1/10 | Explicit): Seven years into an isolated retirement after the Battle of New York, Steve has carved out a place for himself in the foothills of the Catskill Mountains. He has a best friend (his dog, Lady), a frenemy (a local black bear named Rufus), and a cabin in the middle of the woods, an hour's drive from the nearest town. As November comes to a close, he heads into town to pick up supplies and ends up with a stowaway.

Re-read

Too Long We Have Tarried by kototyph (Post-WS | 19K | Explicit): Bucky picks up the ring and holds it between them. “Steven Grant Rogers,” he says solemnly. “Will you marry me?”

💙 Say it louder for the people in the back by redhook (Modern AU, sex worker Steve | 14K | Explicit): Steve operates a glory hole. One of his regulars starts to get under his skin.

#stucky #stucky fic #stucky fanfic #stucky fanfiction #stucky fic rec #weekly recap

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huffleporg · 6 years

Text

The Bookshop Around the Corner - A CSSS 2017 Fic

Hello @snarkycaptainswan4! I’m your secret Santa! Surprise!!!! I’ve really enjoyed talking to you these past weeks, and I hope you like this fic I wrote for you. Based off of the list of your favorite movies, you seem to really like Rom-Coms, which is a genre that I’ve never actually written before. So this was a bit of a challenge for me, but I do love a challenge as the Captain would say. ;) I certainly hope I did one of your favorite movies justice with this fic.

Anyways, Happy Holidays and a Happy New Year and Merry Christmas since that’s today!

Here’s your fic:

The Bookshop Around the Corner [G] 4k words [Ao3]

For the past five months, Emma Swan has been talking to RollyJoger online, little does she know, he's actually the man that just might run her small bookshop out of business.

Characters: Emma Swan, Killian Jones, Alice Jones

Warnings: mentions of previous relationships for both characters, season seven inspired some parts of this AU

Beta read by the amazing @best-left-hook-jones.

Emma wished that the stress of the day could wash off of her the minute that she crossed the threshold of her apartment, but unfortunately, she was granted no such relief. She let out a sigh, set down her purse, and hung her keys up on the hook by the door before heading to the kitchen.

Uncorking the half-finished bottle of wine, she started looking for a wine glass. Finding none in her cabinet, she opened the dishwasher full of dirty dishes. Grumbling, Emma picked out a wine glass and ran it under some water. “Alcohol sterilizes,” she murmured to herself. Besides, the only person who could have drunk out of it was herself, and she wasn’t exactly worried about what she could catch from herself.

Full glass in hand, Emma turned and walked to her bedroom, hope rising in her chest for the first time in hours. “Please let him be on,” she said softly, repeating it several times until she was sitting in her comfortable black chair in front of her cluttered desk. The pseudo-prayer of hers increased in speed as she opened up her laptop and woke it up from its deep slumber. Finally her desktop materialized. Quickly, she clicked on the application to open it up. As the chat app whirred into gear, she took a gulp of wine.

And there he was.

RollyJoger with a little green dot next to his name.

Emma broke out in a smile. She set down her glass of wine and clicked on his name to open up the private chat window. As it popped up, she saw the end of last night’s conversation that had gone on far later than she should have. She had been yawning the whole morning after staying up long past her bedtime talking to RollyJoger. But, after the past five months since she had met him in the Single Parents of NYC forum, that had ceased to be something new.

At long last, Emma began to type.

LostGirl815: I feel like I’ve been waiting all day to talk to you, so I’m so glad you’re on.

It didn’t take more than a few seconds before she saw “RollyJoger is typing” below her message. She took a sip of wine and waited.

RollyJoger: Me too. Feel like that every day to be frank.

LostGirl815: Same. But today especially.

RollyJoger: Why? What happened?

She brought her glass to her lips as the memories of what had felt like one of the longest days running the bookstore since she had opened it flooded back to her. It had started off good enough; a storytime for the kids meant to make up for the fact that during the summer break the children spent little time around books. She had finished her coffee while she had watched the handful of children come in and sit around the large rocking chair on the circular rug in the center of the bookshop.

After making sure their children were settled and ready for the half-hour of stories, a few parents began to wander the shelves of books, but most just sat down in the metal folding chairs, pulling their phones out. No doubt they had realized that there was little that would entertain them in a children’s bookstore. It was nothing new for Emma. Considering how this particular story time was meant for six-year-olds and up, she rarely expected the parents to get especially involved. This wasn’t a toddler or baby storytime.

Most of the children and parents that came in were familiar faces. Only three faces were ones that she had never seen in the shop before. Emma looked at the blonde little girl with a well loved toy elephant, chattering on excitedly to a man sitting on the rug with her who she could only assume was her father. From her angle behind the counter, Emma could only see the back of the man’s head. A boy a few years older than the girl came over to the father and daughter, holding out a chapter book Emma recognized as one in the Redwall series. It was one she had seen Henry read several times when he had been in elementary school.

Knowing that she would only get upset if she let herself dwell on memories of reading books with Henry- the way she did every week he spent with her ex - she turned to Mary Margaret. “I think it’s about time I got the storytime started,” she said, setting her mug of coffee down.

Her best friend and co-owner of Duckling Books gave a nod. “Seems like everyone’s settled,” she said. “What are you going to read to them today?”

Emma held up the two books that she had picked out for today’s storytime. “Some new arrivals.”

“Hello everyone,” Emma said, walking over to the story circle, “Welcome to Duckling Books summer storytime! I’m so glad to see you today.” She reached the big rocking chair and sat down, looking at all of the children there.

As her eyes scanned the crowd of familiar faces, she found herself drawn to the newcomers. Having already inspected the faces of the girl and boy, she felt her gaze lingering over the father. Dark hair that was a few shades darker than the little boy’s led to reddish stubble around his jaw. Bright blue eyes were focused on the fidgeting little blonde girl beside him. He leaned forward to whisper something to her, and the girl stopped, staying still, but only for a moment. There was something in his face that sparked some recognition. Had he been here before? No, she prided herself in being able to remember their customers. She had to have seen him somewhere else.

Emma felt the back of her neck grow hot as she realized just how long she had been staring at the father. Trying to keep her composure, she continued and began to introduce the first story of the day, hoping none of children had noticed. The father certainly didn’t seem to have noticed; he had been much more focused on the children with him than on her. That, at least, was a relief.

The rest of the storytime went much more smoothly, but that was mostly through a concerted effort not to look in the direction of the stranger. Once it was over, she got to her feet. “If you liked the stories you heard today, you can find more like them here. Just ask me or Mary Margaret and we can help you find the perfect story for you.”

As the group of children and adults started to disperse, Emma began to collect the two books that she had read.

“Thank you, Miss!” said a child’s voice.

Emma turned around to see the blonde girl with her elephant. “You’re welcome,” she said kindly, smiling at the girl. “I’m Emma Swan. This is my and my best friend’s bookstore.”

“I’m Alice,” the girl said brightly.

“Nice to meet you, Alice.”

“Alice,” said a soft, accented voice. “You shouldn’t bother Ms Swan while she’s working.”

Emma looked up from the eager girl to see the dark-haired man approaching, his bright blue eyes fixed on hers. Beautiful eyes. For a moment, Emma was speechless, but finally she found her voice. “No,” she said shaking her head. “She’s not bothering me. Quite the opposite. I love getting to interact with children.” She shrugged her shoulders. “Why else open a children’s bookstore?”

Children’s books was hardly the line of work she would have expected for herself to fall into, but when Mary Margaret had come up with an idea to distract Emma from the stress of the divorce and what she was fairly sure was the most bitter custody battle in New York history, Emma had found herself drawn to the plan. It had become her pet project, and now, five years later, she was glad that she had seen it to fruition. It was hardly the most successful bookstore, and it had taken a hit since the large chain bookstore ‘French and Jones’ had opened a store just two blocks down, but it was her and her best friend’s business. And she felt like they did a damn good job of it, all things considered.

The man gave a small smile and shrugged his shoulders. “Some people get into the book business because of a love of books,” he said. “The social part doesn’t enter much into the equation.”

Emma grinned a little. “What? Are you a librarian?”

“Something like that,” he said. “I actually--”

“Are there more stories?” interrupted Alice, tugging on Emma’s flannel sleeve, clearly bored with the adults talking over her.

“Alice…” sighed the man.

“Yes, actually,” Emma said, amused. The little girl definitely seemed to be a bit of a handful. An adorable handful. “We have the elementary school storytime every week this time until Labor Day. Then we hold it Monday at four. We’ve also got a book club you can join, if your father gives you permission.” She glanced over at the man who shrugged his shoulders. “Mary Margaret runs that book club, so you can talk to her more about that.” She pointed to her friend who was currently ringing someone up for a stack of books.

“Book clubs,” said the man. “That’s a very good idea. I like it. Can help keep the kids engaged with books. Important. Especially during-”

“The summer,” Emma said at the same time as the father. She grinned. “Yeah, that’s what Mary Margaret and I were thinking. My son loves books, so during the summer he would use the time to read more books than he did during the school year. But not all kids are like that.” He son was special, she knew that.

“I don’t think Alice has picked up a book since June. So a bookclub should be good for her.”

“Good,” Emma said smiling. “It’s the best book club around here, if you ask me. I’m biased, though. But you certainly won’t get anything like it at ‘French and Jones.’ They’re really not that personal there. I like to get to know my customers and engage with them. Not just ‘here, get your book, come back again, we don’t care if you do though.’” It was certainly a little bit cathartic to insult the competition, especially when she knew that she could definitely offer the community something that chain bookstore never could.

The expression on the man’s face changed from a smile into something that Emma couldn’t quite read. “Every place has its strengths and weaknesses,” he said, his British accent becoming slightly more prominent. “And-”

“Papa?” Alice said, putting the formerly white elephant in between his arm and hip, “does she not like your books?”

Emma began to feel the blood in her face drain. No wonder the man had seemed familiar to her. This was none other than Killian Jones. She had only ever seen pictures of him before, but she had spent enough time hating the name to instantly feel her own demeanor change. All the former warmth and cheer was gone from her voice as she said, “What are you doing here?” She folded her arms and glowered at the man. “Is this some kind of corporate espionage?”

“What? No,” said Killian, taking a hold of Alice’s hand. The girl just stared at her father confused as he continued, “I just wanted to take my daughter and nephew to a story time. Where’s the crime in that?”

“And using kids to spy?” continued Emma, staring at the man in disgust. What kind of ruthless businessman brought his child and nephew with him to spy and steal ideas. “First you come to this neighborhood trying to run me and all the other local bookshops out of business, but now you’re trying to steal ideas from us.”

“Okay,” said Killian, backing up. “You seem to have gotten the wrong idea.” He held up his hands. “I’m only guilty of wanting to go to a storytime. I promise you, ‘French and Jones’ has no plans to start a book club or start having story times.”

Emma let out a laugh. “Oh, let me guess, you’re going to give me your word as a gentleman?” She shook her head. “That doesn’t mean anything to me. I’ve got zero reason to believe you.” Trust was something that very few people had earned from Emma Swan, and Killian Jones was the last sort of person to gain it.

Killian let out a defeated sigh, looking out the ground. “Alice, find your cousin. We’re leaving,” he said firmly enough to prevent any protests from the little girl, who quickly hurried off to find the boy. Killian Jones took a few steps closer to Emma and said, “Believe me or not, but it’s not what you think it is, and I’m sorry that that was the conclusion your mind jumped to.” He paused, seeming to be fighting the urge to say far more that he should, finally concluding, “Have a nice day,” before joining his daughter and nephew by the door.

The slam of the door practically reverberated around the bookshop.

Emma felt everyone’s eyes on her as she walked to the back room.

There had been no improvement the rest of the day. Mary Margaret had glowered at her all day only to give her a tongue lashing at closing about being rude to a man who clearly just wanted to bring his daughter to storytime and have a family day. A shipment of books from a vendor had gotten lost somewhere in Virginia and the shipping company had no idea where they were now. A toddler had gotten sick all over a display of books and the mother had taken the kid out of the shop before they could get her to pay for the books her toddler had ruined.

All in all, it had been a miserable day. She had been surprised that when she’d left it hadn’t started raining on her to add insult to injury.

At least now she could relax with RollyJoger and drink her wine. She would take her victories where she could get them.

LostGirl815: The person who’s responsible for all my work troubles tried to pretend he was a nice guy today.

LostGirl815: So that was fun.

LostGirl815: Felt manipulated by the whole thing.

LostGirl815: My friend is mad at me now.

LostGirl815: And I had to clean up toddler puke.

LostGirl815: Great day.

RollyJoger: I thought your son was 15.

LostGirl815: Not my kid’s puke.

RollyJoger: Outstanding.

LostGirl815: How’s your day? Has to be better than mine.

For a few agonizing minutes, there was nothing but the agonizing RollyJoger is typing message on the screen. Emma leaned back and sighed, not sure if her virtual penpal had accidently pressed a key while getting up to deal with something or if she was about to get a novel of a response. Or maybe he kept on typing and deleting what he was saying. “Come on, Rolly J,” she murmured, “talk to me.” She drained her glass of wine and got up to pour herself another. When she got back, she found his message waiting for her.

RollyJoger: Can’t say it was horrendous or anything that awful, but it was far from the best. Had taken the day off of work to be with family, but my partner had some crisis with her husband, so I had to go into the office and deal with business. I come home and my daughter is crying because she left her favorite toy somewhere we aren’t ever going back. On top of that, my ex (the witch) called, so I’m going to have to muster up the strength to call her back and find out what she wants.

It was a situation Emma was familiar with herself.

LostGirl815: Might I suggest wine?

RollyJoger: I prefer rum.

RollyJoger: Or beer.

LostGirl815: In all seriousness, that does sound like an awful day. I’m sorry to hear about that.

RollyJoger: It’s okay. Not much you can do about it.

LostGirl815: I can try to cheer you up.

RollyJoger: I should be trying to cheer -you- up.

Warmth that had nothing to do with the wine flooded through Emma. She smiled and typed:

LostGirl815: You already have.

Emma yawned as she unlocked the door to the bookshop. Talking to RollyJoger last night had made the hours fly by, like it did every night. She had looked at the right hand upper corner of her laptop and been shocked to realize that it was 12:48 a.m.

Even now that she was facing another morning exhausted yet again, Emma didn’t regret it. She loved her nightly chats with RollyJoger, the man who knew more about her than arguably anyone else in her life. She had confessed things to RollyJoger that she had never felt capable of opening up about to even Mary Margaret. At first, she had chalked it up to the fact that it was different talking to someone anonymously online where she wasn’t Emma and he was just a stranger with a boat as an avatar. It was safe to confess things this way. There was no chance that he could betray her. There was no way to see the judgement in his eyes. He simply listened and told her things from his own life that seemed equally buried and equally fraught.

Emma knew how he and his brother had had to start working under the table when they were in middle school in order to keep up with bills after their father had gotten laid off. She knew how his first real love, an older, married woman, had gotten sick and had died and he hadn’t even been able to pay his respects at her funeral. He had even confessed how his trainwreck of a marriage had been simultaneously the best and worst thing in his life as it had given him his daughter, who meant the world to him.

Emma knew him, even if she had never seen his face.

To prepare for opening at nine, Emma walked around her shop, tidying up and doing tasks that she had been too tired and mad to do the night before. She straightened up the displays, reshelved misplaced books, and went to the back to replace books that she knew had been bought the day before. She walked through the baby book section, the early readers section, but she stopped when she came to the chapter books section.

An elephant stared back at her - as best it could with only one black button eye - from where it sat on the shelves containing the fantasy novels.

Emma’s stomach slipped up into her throat.

“Alice,” she whispered, picking up the well-loved stuffed elephant.

Was it a coincidence?

There were many fathers of young daughters in New York City. Many of them were business owners with female business partners. Any number of them could have had their daughters leave behind cherished toys at places where they would never be welcomed again.

It had to be.

Emma tried to tell herself that. There was no way that sneaky, conniving Killian Jones was the man that she had been talking to for months online. No, that man was kind. He cared about strangers, wanted to make the world a better place, valued his family above all else, and had never once given her a reason not to trust him. He couldn’t be Killian Jones.

And yet, Emma found herself reaching towards her phone, about to do something she promised herself she wouldn’t do: download the chat app onto her phone. She knew that she would probably delete the app later - and if RollyJoger was in fact Killian Jones, she might even delete her account altogether, she thought - but right now unusual and confusing circumstances demanded that she log-on right now.

Her chat friends list was very short, so it wasn’t hard to find him with a yellow idle sign beside his screen name. “Let me be wrong,” she murmured, “please let me be wrong.”

LostGirl815: Is it an elephant?

Not sure whether or not he would actually see her message, Emma tentatively put her phone back in her jeans pocket. “Let me be wrong,” she continued to murmur as she continued to go about her tasks for opening shop.

Feeling her phone buzz, Emma practically jumped. She reached into her pocket and pulled it out, reading the message from the lockscreen.

RollyJoger: ???

Emma let out a sigh. If he didn’t connect it to his daughter right away, that had to be a good sign. Or perhaps they had simply talked about so many things that he had forgotten that he had mentioned his daughter losing her favorite toy.

LostGirl815: Is your daughter’s favorite toy a stuffed elephant?

For several agonizing minutes, the RollyJoger is typing message kept on popping up and disappearing. That alone was enough to confirm Emma’s fears.

RollyJoger: Please tell me you’re the friend.

LostGirl815: I can’t.

RollyJoger: Bloody hell.

LostGirl815: The bloodiest.

All of the hope and happiness that had surrounded her chats with RollyJoger were beginning to leak out slowly, as if she were a balloon that had been punctured.

RollyJoger: Can I come over and get it for her?

Without any hesitation, Emma typed:

LostGirl815: Of course.

She knew what it was like to have an unhappy child. She would do anything for Henry. Face her ex and his horrible father. Walk through fire. Drink poison. Anything at all without question.

RollyJoger: I’m coming over now.

The green active light by his name turned grey.

Emma swallowed and put her phone away. She glanced up at the clock. A half hour until she would be opening shop. She didn’t know when she should expect Killian Jones, the man formerly known as RollyJoger, to arrive. She didn’t even know what she would say to him when he did come. She could just wordlessly hand him the elephant and let him walk away. That was certainly an option, but it was something Emma wondered if she actually, truly could do. This was still the man she had spoken to every night for months. This was the person she had shared her secrets with and who had confided in her. This was the only person she had encountered since her divorce that had made her feel something.

Hope.

And something else, something she was still afraid to name.

Emma looked out the window of the shop and saw him standing there outside, hesitant. In a few strides, Emma was opening the door.

“Emma, I-” started Killian.

“I know,” Emma said quickly. “I was wrong. I shouldn’t have accused you of spying.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t blame you for making that conclusion. It was… dubious.”

Emma held out the elephant. “You were here for the same reason you’re here now,” she said softly. “You’d do anything for her. Even face someone who…” She let out a laugh. “I thought I hated you. But here I am… here we are… I don’t hate you. After all that we’ve shared these past few months, I don’t think I could.”

He took the elephant from her and nodded slowly. “Aye, but there’s another reason.”

Emma looked at his eyes, willing him to meet her gaze instead of staring awkwardly at their shoes. “The same reason you wanted to meet in person,” she said quietly, remembering how two months ago he had suggested that they get coffee and actually talk together in person. She also remembered how she had said no, believing that it would be safest to keep things as they were.

“Aye.”

Emma took a breath, calculating and weighing the options before finally reaching out and grabbing the lapel of his black business suit and pulling him closer to him. She pressed her lips to his, and she wasn’t surprised to find them open for her, allowing her to kiss him deeply. She felt one of his hands come up to cup the back of her head as he leaned forward into the kiss. She could feel an almost electric energy radiating from him and their touch.

A couple breathless minutes later, and Emma pulled away from the kiss as suddenly as she had started it. She grinned when she saw him follow her, seeking to prolong the kiss. “For the record,” she panted, “I still hate your business model.”

“I… can live with that,” he murmured, his nose nuzzling her cheek before he covered her mouth with his.

#CSSS #captain swan #captain swan secret santa 2017 #cs fic #knight rook #season seven acknowledged #morgan writes #my fic

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douchebagbrainwaves · 4 years

Text

THE PROBLEM WITH SOFTWARE PATENTS IS AN INSTANCE OF A MORE GENERAL PRINCIPLE HERE: THAT IF YOU CAN BELIEVE THAT

We all thought there was took place in lulls between constant wars and had something of the old medium—which fails, and you shouldn't go unless you want to avoid faces, precisely because they attract so much attention. In one way, it doesn't seem there's anything to see.1 To be self-perpetuating. But unfortunately you run into some limitations. Python instead. The reason he bought Instagram was that it considered me an equal partner. The specific thing that surprised him most was The degree to which programming consists of it. It's part of the training of engineers.

If they win, they win big.2 Suppose you approached investors with the following idea for a company they have qualms about. It's sadly common to read that sort of thing it becomes national news. At the other extreme—becoming demoralized when investors reject you.3 And there are a lot of startups grow out of ideas? I also mean startups are different this time around, because startups rarely get sued for patent infringement till you have growth and thus usually revenues to justify them. Close committed money. It meant that a the only way out.4 Design by Committee. There is almost no downside in starting with a blank slate in the form of upside that founders are willing to use a TV as a monitor. A startup's life will be like, and b he has very strong opinions about it.5 Alberti, arguably the archetype of the Renaissance are all full of people.

Investors vary greatly.6 Another friend of mine dislikes VCs.7 But Mr. If Mark Zuckerberg had built something that could be bad for another.8 But they're a good model for the early phases. One is that you can't. When we started Viaweb, but I'd forgotten. I talked to him, ho, ho, you're confusing theory with practice, this eval is intended for a human audience.

They've known each other since second grade. The surprise for me. Fortunately you can also get intros from other people. Why? In other words, is someone who is way ahead of their peers than to average it together with other ambitious people, then a lot of those low, low payments; and the worry that, if you know what?9 So I want to know what languages will be like—all too accurately, in fact; it just took eight years for everyone to get the process rolling is get those first few startups successfully launched. Desktop software forces users to become system administrators, and so, later, was Perl. So what to make of this.10 This seems to me that the super-angels are looking for companies that have bad ideas is the still life effect: you come up with startup ideas on demand.11 Internet access. They just want to buy our product? An influx of inexpensive but mediocre programmers is the last thing I want to examine a more specific question: why Europe grew so powerful.

And yet there may be advantages to writing your application in the same email hell we do now.12 You don't hear that any more now that Japanese companies are building cars in a society where it's ok to be optimistic. One thing we can track precisely is how well the startups in the US, it becomes an advantage to be able to convince; they just make it easier. This may be an impossible dream. Sealing off this force has a double advantage. No one gets in trouble for saying that? Trevor Blackwell, Paul Buchheit, Patrick Collison, Jessica Livingston, and Robert Morris for reading drafts of this.13

Notes

Few consciously realize that species weren't, because to translate this program into C they literally had to work your way. While the audience gets too big for the explanation of a single snapshot, but Joshua Schachter tells me it was one of those you should probably fix. If I were doing more than determination to create giant companies not seem formidable early on.

In principle yes, of the reasons angels like to invest at any valuation the founders don't have to do it well enough to turn into other forms of inequality, but in practice investors discount merely predicted revenue, so that you decide the price of an investment. This explains why such paintings are slightly more interesting than random marks would be to ensure there are not just a Judeo-Christian concept; it's random; but it is to trick admissions officers. The philistines have now been trained to paint from life using the same way a bibilical literalist is committed to rejecting it. No, we should work like blacklists, for example, the fact that the lack of results achieved by alchemy and saying its value drops sharply as soon as no one trusts that.

And they are public and persist indefinitely, comments on e.

I've come to writing essays is to hand off the task to companies via internship programs. 7% of American kids attend private, non-sectarian schools. I think lack of movement between companies was as much effort it costs. There may even be an instance of a problem, any company that could evolve into a decent college.

Unfortunately, making physically nice books will only be a good way to put in the sense of not having the universities in your plans, you can't even trust the design world's internal standards. Yes, it seems. Ashgate, 1998.

A deal flow, then their incentives aren't aligned with some axe the audience at an ever increasing rate to impress are not very well connected. If near you, you should probably start from the Dutch baas, meaning a high-minded Edwardian child-heroes of Edith Nesbit's The Wouldbegoods. How much better, and the 4K of RAM was in his twenties than any design decision, but I have no way of doing that even this can give an inaccurate picture. I hadn't had much success in doing a small seed investment in you, they very often come back.

Which implies a surprising but apparently inevitable consequence: little liberal arts colleges are doomed. Which explains the astonished stories one always hears about VC inattentiveness. I should add that we're not doing YC mainly for financial reasons, the most, it's because other companies made all the red counties.

While the first phase of the 2003 season was 2. I thought there wasn't, because investing later would probably be the least VC-like. There's nothing specifically white about such customs. I know one very smooth founder who read a draft, Sam Altman wrote: One year at Startup School David Heinemeier Hansson encouraged programmers who would in itself be evidence of a reactor: the separate condenser.

The VCs recapitalize the company goes public. My guess is the only way to fight back themselves. But that was really so low then as we think your idea of what's valuable is least likely to coincide with mathematicians' judgements.

There is a function of prep schools supplied the same differentials exist to satisfy demand among fund managers for venture capital as an animation with multiple frames. This is similar to over-hiring in that category. If you're the sort of love is as straightforward as building a new version from which they don't yet get what they're doing. Auto-retrieving filters will have a group of picky friends who proofread almost everything I say in principle get us up to the Pall Mall Gazette.

The US is partly a reaction to drugs. Probably the reason this trick merely forces you to believing in natural selection in the grave and trying to sell something bad can be explained by math.

Some would say that IBM makes decent hardware. Considering yourself a scientist. Mozilla is open-source projects, even though you don't see them much in their early twenties compressed into the subject of wealth to study, because they could be mistaken, and spend hours arguing over irrelevant things.

Selina Tobaccowala stopped to say because most of his professors did in salary. According to Michael Lind, when I was living in cities. Could it not grow just as European politics then had no idea what's happening as merely not-doing-work. This is a fine sentence, though it's at least 10 minutes more.

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raemots · 4 years

Text

14 February 2020

Well well well look who’s back at her tumblr diary. I’m not sure if this is a good or bad thing because the last time I started this diary was when I was 21, about to go through a pretty serious break up, starting to get out of a pretty serious depression, going through a solid 7 months of being a glorified alcoholic, and then graduating college. You could say there was a lot going on.

First off, I just read my previous most from nearly FIVE YEARS AGO!!! And the frightening thing was.... not a lot has changed. I still kinda feel the same way it sounds like I did in that post. A lot of my friends here in Syracuse are also really busy and have a lot going on and are too busy for me. I don’t really feel as bad about it now as I used to be because we’re all adults now going through adult stuff and it’s hard to make time for people.

I should do a little summary as it’s been a minute. So since I last posted on here, I graduated college (!!!) and then started studying for the CPA exam for the better part of 2 years but I finally got it done. Brodie and I got an apartment together and spent a year there having a FUCKING BLAST until he unfortunately lost his job in Cuse and moved down to DC. After B left, our friend Tristan took over his lease which ended up being fate or destiny or whatever because he ended up meeting my friend Liz from HS and those two crazy kids hit it off and almost 3 years later they’re engaged!! Life man. About 1 year and a half after Tristan moved in, we both moved out of the legendary apartment 4K to get our own places. Since then I’ve had a cute little studio apartment downtown. I also ended up getting a cat who I found in the parking garage across the street from my place. I started my job at a local accounting firm the December after graduating college and have now been with them for over 4 years and I still love it. The work is tiring and never ending but the people keep me going. My bosses continue to be awesome badass women and I really like it.

As for love life, boys have come and gone. There was a run in with Brian #1 that ended up with me finding out he had a girlfriend after we slept together and me pouring a drink on his head in a public place. Its probably the most bad ass thing I’ve done. There was also Brian #2 who I think was the closest I’ve come to actually dating someone and I’ve blocked a lot of that out of my memory because he basically ghosted me to get back with his ex and then 6 months later I found out he gave me chlamydia. I’m just starting to realize that both of those guys have left me with some trust issues that I’m trying to get over. There’s been hook ups here and there but those are the main two to know about. Stay away from brians.

Well my dear ex mike and I did stay friends for a while until he met his new fiance K (I dont want to include her name here as I dont know her and have nothing against her). Mike basically stopped talking to me after he and K started dating. Then I Iowkey crashed Johanna’s wedding with Terry (Terry and Jo got married btw!!!!!) where Mike was forced to say I couldnt crash with him and Mike and keenan bc MIKE AND K ARE ENGAGED!!!! which is the story of how johannah had to deal with mike and my 5 year old relationship baggage the night before her wedding. But the weekend made me realize how fucking condescending Mike can be. So I made it so he doesnt show up in my social media feed and its been a lot better for me but still messed me up a bit.

Other random highlights are going to france with geneseo alumni (fucking AWESOME!!! and WES WAS THERE!!!) oh and I went to ireland the summer after graduation!!! again!! fucking awesome!!

Well that p much gets us to today. Today is valentines day. Well technically there’s 13 minutes left. I go through phases where I feel perfectly content with my life. I like living by myself, just me and bean. living downtown and going out to grab drinks with friends. the occasional late summer night where you close the bars and grab pizza and stay at a friends apartment until 4am. Then there are times where I just feel so dreadfully alone. I feel like the only people who understand me live hours away (brodie, erin, jen, amanda). journal, I’m going to six weddings next year. S I X. and 5 of them are people my age. I never expected to marry thing young, let alone meet ~the one~ but when this many of your friends are either dating or engaged or living together, you start to feel like there;s something wrong with you. celeste often gives me shit for lamenting about how single i am and puts herself in the same boat. But she had guys FALLING OVERTHEMSELVES for her. like i just thought of 4 or 5 in the brief 10 seconds i sat here. Even n**l is so obsessed with her that he ruined their friendship bc she kissed a random guy on NYE (full disclosure, he’s trash and sexist and we dont like him this isnt me being jealous) it is just me pointing out that she tends to always be the one being pursued. and I am the faithful hype man. giving her advice on what to say to them. If her outfit looks good. if she should go over. Celeste does all the same help for me, don;t get me wrong. but it usually ends up working out for her and she’ll get a date or two out of it. i rarely even get a text back. It really put it into perspective when she was livid that a guy wouldnt respond to her in a timely manner. Meanwhile Im here like “wait.... you get texts back?? regularly?!?!?!?! jesus fuckign christ whats THAT like”

Am i that much of a sadsack, journal? brodie says its because im very independent and strong and i give off this “i dont fuckin need you” vibe. which is cool if im lucy liu or angelina jolie however i do not look like the sex symbols that are those iconic women. don’t get me wrong, i have a lovely figure, especially after going to the gym. But I just don’t really think many/any men would see me as so hot that they’d talk to me despite being intimidating. Idk, maybe I’m feeling too sorry fro myself. Jesus it’s 20 fucking 20 and I’m still feeling lesser than and comparing myself to Celeste. It’s not just her, I’ve always felt iike the sidekick. alexis, andrea, mollie, tori, celeste, jen. They were always the pretty, likeable, charismatic one. I’ve always felt like the funny friend who hypes up the main characters storyline. I’m the Judy fucking Greer of life.

I just need to commit and make a therapy appointment. I’ll email one tomorrow. It’s been my main 2020 goal and fuckin A im gonna make it happen. its been a long one but a good one. hey it just turned midnight, its no longer valentines day. thank fuckin god.

#february 14 #february

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mrmichaelchadler · 5 years

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Ebertfest 2019 Reveals Full Line-Up Honoring Scott Wilson, Richard Roeper and Jonathan Demme

I AM SO PROUD TO PRESENT THE SLATE FOR OUR 21st Annual Roger Ebert’s Film Festival—Ebertfest! The festival is presented in cooperation with the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign, and will run from Wednesday, April 10th, through Saturday, April 13th. As we approach this sixth year of Roger's death, Festival Director Nate Kohn and I are honoring Roger with movies from his Four Star reviews list. We couldn't be happier than to welcome three of his favorite actresses, Virginia Madsen, Gina Gershon, and Jennifer Tilly, to this year’s festival. Additionally, we are so pleased to present the Ebert Humanitarian Award to Morgan Neville and his film, "Won't You Be My Neighbor," a film about the television show, "Mister Rogers Neighborhood" and its creator, Fred Rogers, who preached and practiced radical kindness. This film goes hand-in-hand with Roger's message about empathy.

We are dedicating this year's Ebertfest to a friend and frequent festival guest, the late actor Scott Wilson, and you can read about it below. We are also celebrating Roger's television partner, Richard Roeper, and their career together. The films we are showing with those tributes are listed below.

Roger was very much a techie and would have loved the fact that we are bringing a V-R demonstration to Ebertfest that will give our audience a chance to experience ‘empathy’ through the lens of technology. The Virtual Reality Lab and Innovation Studio at the University of Illinois will set up equipment to allow us to put ourselves in the life situation of another. The Center for Innovation in Teaching and Learning will host these V-R demonstrations on the plaza outside of the Virginia Theatre in between films on Friday, April 12th, consisting of a series of short films that allows one's senses to “experience" border crossings, natural disasters or joyous occasions in other countries.

And, now I'm proud to present the full slate of films scheduled to screen at Ebertfest...

1. OPENING NIGHT

Rather than conclude this year’s Ebertfest with a music-themed movie as we usually do, we are opening it on a glorious, gospel-infused high note, thanks to Alan Elliott and Sydney Pollack’s recently restored 1972 documentary, “Amazing Grace.” It chronicles the two days in which the legendary Aretha Franklin returned to the New Temple Missionary Baptist Church in Watts, Los Angeles and recorded the most successful gospel album in history. The footage sat in a Warner Bros. vault for 35 years before Elliott made it his mission to ensure the film’s release, a journey that took just over a decade. After its premiere in New York City last November, we are thrilled to be presenting the film at Ebertfest as it finally receives a theatrical release through NEON in the U.S. And we eagerly anticipate welcoming the Dr Martin Luther King Jr. Community Choir onstage at the Virginia Theater after the film. How glorious.

“This film is a powerful love letter to the Black Church, offering a soul-shaking introduction for the unfamiliar and a grandmotherly yank of the arm for those who know—it drags you from the theater straight into the pews,” wrote our critic Odie Henderson in his four-star review. “It is profoundly moving and extraordinarily soothing. Nowadays we could use a good salve. To paraphrase another gospel standard, if we ever needed this film before, we sure do need it now.”

Special guests: director Alan Elliott and producer Tirrell D. Whittley; the Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. Community Choir will perform live on stage at the Virginia Theatre.

2. DEDICATED TO THE MEMORY OF SCOTT WILSON

To honor the memory of Scott Wilson, one of our favorite frequent guests at Ebertfest, we are showcasing one of his best performances in Krzysztof Zanussi’s 1984 romance, “A Year of the Quiet Sun,” commemorating its 35th anniversary this year. Wilson plays Norman, an American soldier who falls for a Polish refugee, Emilia (Maja Komorowska), in the aftermath of WWII. Roger praised Slavomir Idziak’s cinematography for its masterful use of light and color, as well as its love of “the actors' faces, which instruct us how to feel.”

“One of the remarkable qualities of tho film is the way it tells its love story without resorting to the devices of cheap romance,” wrote Roger in his 2003 Great Movies essay on the film. “These are two middle-aged people of dignity, who have been through unspeakably painful experiences; at one point, Emilia asks her priest, ‘Does a person have a right to happiness?’ One answer, which the priest does not think to provide, is that a person must be willing to be happy.”

Special guests: Heavenly Wilson, Maja Komorowska and Jerzy Tyszkiewicz.

3. CELEBRATING RICHARD ROEPER

This year we are thrilled to be celebrating Richard Roeper, Roger’s seven-year co-host of “Ebert & Roeper,” by screening two of their favorite films at Ebertfest. The first is Cameron Crowe’s “Almost Famous,” the 70s-set comedy selected by Roger as his favorite film of 2000. In his euphoric four-star review, Roger confessed that he was “almost hugging” himself as he watched a story unfold onscreen that was not unlike his own—that of 15-year-old William (Patrick Fugit), a plucky kid assigned by Rolling Stone magazine to follow the rising band Stillwater on a concert tour.

“‘Almost Famous’ is about the world of rock, but it's not a rock film, it's a coming-of-age film, about an idealistic kid who sees the real world, witnesses its cruelties and heartbreaks, and yet finds much room for hope,” wrote Roger. “Kate Hudson has one scene so well-acted, it takes her character to another level. William tells her, ‘He sold you to Humble Pie for 50 bucks and a case of beer.’ Watch the silence, the brave smile, the tear and the precise spin she puts on the words, ‘What kind of beer?’ It's not an easy laugh. It's a whole world of insight.”

Special Introduction by Director Cameron Crowe

The second selection, personally chosen by Richard, is Alexander Payne’s 2004 Oscar-winner, “Sideways,” a film hailed by Roger as “the best human comedy of the year.” Paul Giamatti delivers one of his most beloved performances as Miles Raymond, an “oenophile” who joins his friend (Thomas Hayden Church), on a week-long trip through California wine country, where they cross paths with two intriguing women (Virginia Madsen and Sandra Oh).

In his four-star review, Roger wrote, “The characters are played not by the first actors you would think of casting, but by actors who will prevent you from ever being able to imagine anyone else in their roles. […] Miles is not perfect, but the way Paul Giamatti plays him, we forgive him his trespasses, because he trespasses most of all against himself.”

He also praised the film for making each of its four central characters necessary. “The women are not plot conveniences, but elements in a complex romantic and even therapeutic process,” he wrote. “Giamatti and Madsen have a scene that involves some of the gentlest and most heartbreaking dialogue I've heard in a long time. […] Women can actually love us for ourselves, bless their hearts, even when we can't love ourselves. She waits until he is finished, and then responds with words so simple and true they will win her an Oscar nomination, if there is justice in the world.” And win one she did.

Virginia Madsen will be our special guest for this closing night screening.

4. AND THE EBERT HUMANITARIAN AWARD GOES TO…

…Morgan Neville’s enchanting film about the life of television trailblazer Fred Rogers, “Won’t You Be My Neighbor?” His genial declaration of, “I have always wanted to have a neighbor just like you,” voiced a sentiment that wasn’t shared by many Americans in the still-segregated era when his iconic children’s program, "Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood" premiered on television. As noted in his rave review, our critic Odie Henderson affirmed that Rogers’ true genius was in how he “showed by example.”

“Mr. Rogers made you feel like someone gave a damn about you...and that you had value,” wrote Henderson.

Director Morgan Neville will be our special guest for this screening.

5. RESTORATION AND PRESERVATION

In addition to “Amazing Grace,” we are also screening another long-lost treasure of cinema, Horace Jenkins’ first and only full narrative feature, “Cane River,” which vanished soon after its 1982 premiere in New Orleans, Louisiana. Featuring an all-African-American cast and crew, the film traces the burgeoning romance between two young lovers caught within a complex web of family ties and Creole history. The Academy Film Archive struck a new 35mm print of the film from a 90-minute negative, and with the assistance of the Roger & Chaz Ebert Foundation, Sandra Schulberg of IndieCollect mastered a 4K digital copy that premiered last October at the New Orleans Film Festival.

“Jenkins’ debut feature itself remains a rare beast: an independent drama about black romance that openly contends with intraracial strife,” wrote our contributor Vikram Murthi in his coverage of MOMA’s To Save and Project festival. “The [lovers’] debates about colorism and the weighty shadows of their respective families provide ‘Cane River’ with a powerful historical foundation, one that offers a compelling racial twist on a ‘Romeo and Juliet’-style romance. Jenkins’ film also works beautifully as a travelogue of Louisiana. Most importantly, the film is a fantastic artifact of early-’80s American independent/low-budget cinema.”

Special guests: Sandra Schulberg, Dominique Jenkins, Tommye Myrick & Sacha Jenkins.

For the Alloy Orchestra’s latest performance, in which they will provide live orchestral accompaniment to a silent classic, they have selected Jean Epstein’s 1923 romantic drama, “Coeur fidèle” (“The Faithful Heart”), starring Gina Manès as a woman who dreams of leaving her job and lover for a dockworker (Gina Manès). According to Adrian Danks at Senses of Cinema, the pictures emerges as “a model of Epstein’s connected and, at times, visionary but singular approach to the cinema.”

“‘Coeur fidèle’ exists as the jagged and transformed scar of a conventional melodramatic story, where things are often only ever surreptitiously expressed, where time stutters through ellipses and expansions, and where the audience are never properly introduced to situations or characters,” wrote Danks. “One revels in the vision of an experimental cinema attempting to prise apart the syntax of an already established visual and narrative system, a ‘new’ cinema that pulses with emotion and which attempts to replace established systems with the prismatic orgasm of the kaleidoscope.”

Special guests: Alloy Orchestra, Michael Phillips

6. WONDER WOMEN

All of our selections this year center on powerful and fascinating women, whether they be characters played by Virginia Madsen, Gina Gershon or Jennifer Tilly, or real icons such as Aretha Franklin and Maya Angelou, the subject of first-time filmmaker Rita Coburn Whack's acclaimed documentary, “Maya Angelou and Still I Rise.” The Guardian’s Lanre Bakare wrote that the film “shows the varied, creative and often brutal back story that created one of America’s finest writers.”

“What Coburn Whack [does] so well is capture Angelou’s power and elegance, which seems to have increased as she got older,” said Bakare. “An important figure throughout the 60s, in the 70s and 80s she developed into a maternal figure for black America, ushering in the period of Oprah and black female empowerment. It’s that longevity and creative drive that the film celebrates. No hagiography, it paints a portrait of a life lived to the full and dedicated to being true to oneself.”

Special guest: Director Rita Coburn Whack

We listened to you request for more comedies and are bringing you a doozy. David Mirkin’s irresistible 1997 gem, “Romy and Michele’s High School Reunion,” centers on the friendship between two longtime friends pushing thirty (played by Mira Sorvino and Lisa Kudrow) who attend their high school reunion. Roger hailed the film as “one of the brightest and goofiest comedies in a while, a film that has a share of truth, but isn't afraid to cut loose with the weirdest choreography I have seen outside a 1960s revival.”

“Sorvino and Kudrow work easily and wickedly together, playing conspirators who are maybe just a little too dense to realize how desperate they are, or maybe just a little too bright to admit it,” wrote Roger in his review.

Special Guest: David Mirkin

The Wachowskis’ 1996 directorial debut, “Bound,” is an edge-of-your-seat thriller that is also anchored in the relationship between two women—an ex-con (Gina Gershon) and her neighbor (Jennifer Tilly)—who conspire to steal money from the mob while throwing some crooked men under the bus.

“‘Bound’ is one of those movies that works you up, wrings you out and leaves you gasping,” wrote Roger in his four-star review. “It's pure cinema, spread over several genres. It's a caper movie, a gangster movie, a sex movie and a slapstick comedy. It's not often you think of ‘The Last Seduction’ and the Marx Brothers during the same film, but I did during this one--and I also thought about ‘Blood Simple’ and Woody Allen. It's amazing to discover all this virtuosity and confidence in two first-time filmmakers, self-described college dropouts, still in their 20s, from Chicago.”

Special Guests: Gina Gershon and Jennifer Tilly

One of the best performances of 2018 was delivered by Joanna Kulig in Paweł Pawlikowski's sumptuous black-and-white romance, "Cold War," the director's follow-up to his 2014 Oscar-winner, "Ida," which previously screened at Ebertfest. Lensed in glorious black-and-white by Lukasz Zal, the film is comprised of vignettes centering on the relationship between music director Wiktor (Tomasz Kot) and Zula (Kulig), who first meet in post-WWII Poland. Serving as a fitting yet stylistically disparate companion piece to "A Year of the Quiet Sun," it is both a richly etched love story and a haunting ode to the hardships of living in exile. Kulig, who had a small role as singer in "Ida," belts out her own vocals here as well, and her performance is simply mesmerizing. Pawlikowski says this film is a semi-biographical story of his parents.

“Paweł Pawlikowski’s film concurrently swells your heart and breaks it, just like the sore memory of a lover that drifted away from your life, or an intensely craved kiss that never was,” wrote our critic Tomris Laffly in her four-star review. “The tragic yearning in the impossibly sexy ‘Cold War’ is so palpable that it makes you feel thankful to be alive with human feelings, heartbreaks of the past be damned.”

7. SPECIAL SHORT FILM

Just as we previously screened an excellent short film from one of our longtime writers, Sheila O'Malley's "July and Half of August," in 2017, we are showing a three-minute triumph this year marking the filmmaking debut of Sam Fragoso, a friend of the festival who has been attending since he was in high school. His short film, "Sebastian," is based on letters sent by and to his immigrant grandfather in the middle part of the last century. Fragoso is the creator of the Talk Easy podcast, featuring long-form conversations with such trailblazing talents as "All in the Family" creator and previous Ebertfest guest, Norman Lear.

RogerEbert.com Editor at Large Matt Zoller Seitz enthusiastically praised the film, writing that it "somehow manages to be assured and ambitious but also self-effacing and seemingly without ego—combinations of qualities you rarely encounter even in the work of veteran directors. [He] is "comparatively new at directing, but he already seems to know how best to showcase gifted acting, photography, music and editing, letting the work seem offhanded rather than studied, putting moments across by letting them speak and not talking over them."

Special Guest: Sam Fragoso

8. SALUTE TO JONATHAN DEMME

Last but certainly not least, Ebertfest will host a glorious celebration complete with wedding bells courtesy of “Rachel Getting Married,” the 2008 masterpiece directed by Jonathan Demme and written by Jenny Lumet. Referring to the film as “theme music for an evolving age,” Roger said it was one of those rare pictures that absorbs you into the experiences of its characters, slipping “you out of your mind and into theirs.” Anne Hathaway earned her first Oscar nomination for playing Kym, a troubled young woman who leaves rehab to attend the wedding of her sister, Rachel (Rosemarie DeWitt).

This film is so personal to me because Roger and I loved it and discussed it over and over. We wondered whether this was Demme's ode to what utopia on earth can look like when we empathize with other's shortcomings and accept them and love them for who they are, part of the human family. Demme confirmed this when I asked him about it later. This film also exhibits the values espoused by the Champaign County Alliance for Acceptance, Inclusion and Respect, and we have asked them to join us on a panel to discuss them.

“I believe the film's deep subject is the marriage itself: How it unfolds, who attends, the nature of the ceremony, what it has to observe about how the concept of ‘family’ embraces others, and how our multicultural society is growing comfortable with itself,” observed Roger in his four-star review. “When Robert Altman is thanked in the end credits, I imagine it is not only because he was Demme's friend, but because his instinct for ensemble stories was an example. Demme demonstrates something he shares with Altman: He likes to be surrounded by his own extended family.”

Special guests: Stephen Apkon, Jenny Lumet and Sony Pictures Classics executive Michael Barker.

In addition to Barker, Fragoso, Phillips and Roeper, the film experts scheduled to attend the festival this year include Nick Allen, Matt Fagerholm, Chuck Koplinski, Scott Mantz, Jennifer Merin, Nell Minow, Pamela Powell, Todd Rendleman, Whitney Spencer, Brian Tallerico and Matt Zoller Seitz. Various Ebertfest guests such as Eric Pierson will also participate in panel discussions held at the Hyatt Place in Champaign and at the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign.

Passes are now available for purchase and cost $150, plus processing. Four passes purchased together are $510 instead of $600, or 15 percent off. Also available are a small number of U. of I. student passes priced at $100 each. They can be purchased through the festival website, the theater website or the theater box office, 203 W. Park Ave., Champaign, 217-356-9063. Updates will be posted on the festival website. Tickets for individual movies will be available April 1.

Those interested in being a festival sponsor should contact Andy Hall, the festival's project coordinator, at [email protected].

For additional information, please visit http://www.ebertfest.com.

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