#lime: oh. right. (fucking idiot what kind of question is that)

[musubiki]

im actually fully convinced now that mochi used to wear the long skirt uniform until coco convinced her to be a normal high school girl and wear short skirts like everyone else, and thats when limes Thing(tm) started

#coco: cmon be young while you still can!! everyone wears the shorter skirt!!! #mochi in her head: (everyone?....i guess thats true...itll actually help me blend in more...maybe the long skirt was making me stand out... #...as a witch i need to blend in as much as possible...) ok! #and the next day lime is tripping over his own feet and walking straight into walls #he has to legit take a moment to recenter and be like (what the fuck is wrong with me?) #its like that feeling when you keep trying to say a very normal word but keep getting tripped up #and you just stop and fall silent for a few seconds like (what the fuck) #dumbass lime is like: are you sure thats within dress code...? #mochi: ? its the uniform? #lime: oh. right. (fucking idiot what kind of question is that)

[classysassy9791]

Drinking is not a bad thing after a break up. In fact, it's a damn good coping mechanism for Kagome Higurashi, especially at the bar with other heartbroken patrons. A guy buys her a drink, and then two, and then things get a little out of hand.

Fandom: Inuyasha Genre: Romance/Humor Pairing: InuKag Rating: T

Originally written for INUKAG Week on tumblr circa 2016 Day 4: AU Part 1 Word Count: 2,400

Can also be found here

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Breakups were never an easy thing. They were messy, full of tears and angry outbursts, and the awkward encounters afterward were definitely something to avoid. Really, it made her wonder why anyone would choose to stop being single.

Kagome Higurashi grasped the strap of her purse tighter as she stormed into the local pub. The music was loud as the bass pounded through the speakers, reverberating through her chest and drowning out the sad thoughts in her head.

Screw men and their idiocy. She really should stop dating all together, and maybe she would. After all, she had her own place, an amazing career, and her cat Buyo to come home to every night. Who needed the male population anyways?

She leaned on the bar, her obsidian hair lying over one shoulder of her black, sequined dress. She tilted her head to one side, pushing out her red lips just a little. The bartender was there to take her order in a flash, eyes dropping momentarily to her low-cut neckline.

“What can I get for you, beautiful?” he asked, flashing a wolfish grin.

“Margarita on the rocks with salt,” she answered with a sweet smile, nibbling on her lower lip seductively.

His eyes were the blue of water so deep that she was afraid to jump in, but she was still tempted to. “Coming right up,” he replied with a wink, before making his way to the other end of the bar.

Kagome watched him fetch her drink as she slid onto a stool. His black shirt was tight, revealing his chiseled chest and toned abs. His face was above average with those eyes and tanned skin. Perhaps she would come back for him later, after they closed, and invite him home. It was perfectly acceptable, wasn’t it?

As soon as the thought came to mind, she immediately rolled her eyes and dismissed it. Why would she even think such a thing? She was not about to be one of those heartbroken girls who found comfort in the arms of another man as he screwed her senseless. That wasn’t her style, and she certainly wasn’t going to stoop so low now.

“Here you are,” the bartender returned, handing her a cocktail glass filled to the brim with tequila and lime.

She appeared pleased as she sipped it gingerly, relishing in the cool sour taste against her lips. “You have a nice touch,” she commented wryly.

He leaned against the bar. “So I’ve been told,” he said, his eyes dipping to glance at her low cut top again. “What brings you in tonight?”

Kagome sighed. This is not what she wanted. She didn’t come to the bar to talk about her problems. She came to get drunk, maybe smack lips with a guy, and then leave feeling a little fuzzy. “Just needed a drink,” she asserted, taking another taste, attempting to show her disinterest.

Unfortunately, he didn’t get the hint.

“Is that all you needed?” he questioned, his voice low and seductive.

She frowned, not in the mood to deal with forward guys like him. Especially not so soon into her evening. She would definitely need a few more drinks in her before she even considered him. A range of words were perched on the tip of her tongue, hell bent on putting him in his place, but someone else beat her to it.

“Hey, flea bag,” a man said, stealing the stool beside her. “Get me a whiskey sour.”

The bartender narrowed his eyes and shot him an annoyed look. “Back again, Inutrasha?” he scowled.

“Do you want your tips tonight or not?” said man growled with furrowed brows.

Rolling his eyes, “fleabag” moved away to grab his order. Kagome smiled behind her glass as she took another sip. She glanced at the man beside her out of the corner of her eye. He was tall, with startling silver hair and luminous amber eyes. Definitely not like the men she was used to being with, and he clearly wasn’t someone to be looked over easily. His stand-out features made sure of that.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” he grumbled.

Caught off guard, Kagome’s eyes widened as she placed her glass back down on the countertop. “Excuse me?”

“It’s rude to stare.”

Her lips pulled into a frown. “Well, aren’t you just a ball of sunshine.”

The bartender returned with his patron’s drink and slid it in front of him. “Inuyasha is the furthest thing from sunshine,” he announced with a chuckle.

Said man glowered at him. “Don’t get me started,” he warned, curling his hand around his whiskey sour. “I’m not in the mood today.”

“When are you ever in the mood?” he barbed, leaning his hands against the top of the bar.

Taking a large gulp of alcohol, Inuyasha slammed his glass down and abruptly stood. “You wanna take this outside, Kouga?”

“It’ll be my pleasure.” He shot him a sadistic grin.

Kagome glanced wide-eyed between them before grasping onto the silver-haired stranger’s arm. “Hold on,” she intervened, stepping between them. “Come on boys, its early. Can’t this wait until later?”

“Keh,” Inuyasha sneered, shrugging off her hand. “If you don’t want to get involved, go get drunk somewhere else, wench.”

All attraction Kagome had felt for the man moments earlier immediately vanished. She was not a stranger to name-calling, but she would be damned if she took it from some pretentious jerk she just met.

“Who the heck do you think you are?” she demanded, folding her arms over her chest.

Amber eyes glanced toward her with disinterest. “What’s your problem?”

Her blood boiled. “You can’t just come waltzing in here, start a fight, and treat a woman like crap. It’s men like you who disgust me.”

Inuyasha knitted his brows and turned toward her fully. “Listen, lady,” he began, clenching his hands into fists. “I’ve had a rough fucking day and I’m not in the mood to deal with your whiney bullshit. So if you don’t mind, go get drunk somewhere else, you floozy.”

That did it. Before Kagome even knew what had happened, her hand came up at an alarming speed and made contact with his cheek. His eyes turned wide as she stood there, her arm still raised, glowering at him with eyes full of absolute hate.

“Holy shit,” Kouga breathed, his piercing blue eyes glancing between the two. That had quickly gone from bad to worse.

Inuyasha brought a hand to his face, his cheek still resonating with heat from where she had smacked him. After getting over the initial shock, he glared at her. This chick had some nerve. Never in all his life had he met someone so infuriating!

“What the fuck—“

“Kouga!”

The bartender turned at the sound of his name to see a red-headed woman storming through the crowd. He visibly paled. This was bad. This was really freakin’ bad. If the manager saw a fight in the bar so soon into the evening, there was be hell to pay.

As the realization of what she had done sunk in, Kagome began to wither under Inuyasha’s intense gaze. Where in the world had that come from? She was not a violent person. She wouldn’t hurt a fly! And yet, she had smacked some stranger in a bar for simply having a dirty mouth. Oh. Oh no.

Heat crept up her neck and flushed her cheeks, but she was just as stubborn as she was kind. She bit the inside of her cheek to steel her nerves. “Look,” she began, hoping to ward off his impending fury. “I didn’t mean—“

“Quiet, you two!” Kouga hissed, leaning over the bar. “Sit down and look like you’re having a good time!”

Kagome had no time to object as Kouga forcefully pulled both her and Inuyasha back onto their stools. He pushed their glasses toward them eagerly, his eyes glancing fearfully between them and the crowd. Curiosity got the better of her embarrassment, and Kagome found herself searching the mass of people behind her.

“What is it, Kouga?” she dared to ask, momentarily forgetting the silver-haired idiot sitting beside her.

The bartender gulped, nervously cleaning a glass. “Ayame’s here,” he grumbled with wide eyes, as if that alone would mean anything to her.

Before she could ask any more questions, a fiery red-headed woman pushed between her and Inuyasha. “Kouga,” she said sternly, leaving no room to question her authority. “Didn’t I tell you to restock the bar inventory before nine o’clock?”

“I thought you told Hakkaku to do it?” he prodded.

Kagome could see he was racking his brain for a way out of this one. Apparently, he was afraid of Ayame’s temper, and she could see why.

The bar manager narrowed her green eyes at him. “Hakkaku isn’t working tonight,” she snapped. She leaned forward threateningly. “It better be stocked in thirty minutes. Otherwise, it’s your job.”

She turned on her heel and left as quickly as she had come, leaving a shaking bartender in her wake. Kagome turned hesitant eyes to Kouga. “Are you all right?” she asked.

He blushed and scowled. “Damn that Ayame,” he grumbled hotly. He set down the glass and began walking to the other end of the bar, mumbling, “I’ll be right back,” over his shoulder.

“That was a little harsh,” Kagome muttered, turning her attention back to her drink. Tonight was definitely bizarre to say the least. All she wanted to do was drink until she could forget what had happened earlier that day, but already she had run into a flirtatious bartender, an arrogant brute, and a hot headed manager.

“It’s his own fault,” Inuyasha piped up beside her.

Kagome startled, almost forgetting he was there. “Come again?”

He nonchalantly took a sip of his drink. “If he did what he was supposed to, Ayame wouldn’t be hounding him. But he’s lazy and would rather flirt with girls than do his job.”

“Isn’t that part of his job?” she pointed out. “I mean, girls tend to leave better tips for a man who gives them attention.”

He gave her a sideways glance. “Is that what you’re gonna do?”

Realizing the implications behind his words, warmth flushed her cheeks as she frowned. “No,” she denied. “I’m not that kind of girl.”

Inuyasha smirked. “That’s hard to believe.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she quipped, her blood beginning to boil.

“A single girl sitting alone at the bar on a Friday night?” He shrugged. “Doesn’t exactly scream purity.”

She glared daggers and clenched her hands tightly into fists. “I’ll have you know that I’m simply having a bad day and needed a drink,” she spat out through clenched teeth. “I plan on going home with a nice buzz. Alone.”

“Yeah, keep telling yourself that, darling.”

Kagome faltered from the nickname. Well, she supposed it was an upgrade from ‘wench’. “All right, jerk-face, what are you doing here?” she questioned hotly. “A man sitting alone at the bar on a Friday night? I don’t see any pure intentions there.”

“Didn’t say I had any,” he reminded.

She rolled her eyes. “Sheesh. Not even a saint could be patient with you.”

“You wouldn’t know, would you?”

That was it! That was the last straw! Forget her simple night out. Inuyasha had completely ruined it. She had been talked down to a fair share already today and she would be damned if she sat here another moment being spoken to like that.

“You’re a jerk,” she snapped. “There is absolutely no hiding that. Apparently a girl can’t even enjoy a drink around you! No wonder you’re here alone!”

Kagome suddenly stood, grabbed her purse, and threw a few dollars onto the granite top for her drink. She was ready to storm out of the bar, Inuyasha be damned, but a hand on her wrist stopped her.

“Woah, hold up,” he called.

“Let go of me!” she demanded, pulling on his grip insistently.

Intense amber eyes met her gaze, causing her heart to leap into her throat. “Sit down,” he insisted.

“No way!” she sassed back. “I couldn’t stand another minute in your presence.”

He exhaled deeply and slowly released her. “Look, I’m sorry,” he grumbled, averting his gaze. “I’m just in a bad mood. Didn’t mean to take it out on you.”

His words shocked her. So far, Inuyasha had been brash, rude, and inconsiderate. Taunts and barbs she expected. She did not foresee his eyes becoming soft and the sharp tone of his voice changing to a gentle manner. This was unanticipated.

She eyed him warily. “Everyone has bad days.”

“Keh,” he scoffed, turning his attention back to the bar. “At least let me buy you a drink.”

Kagome sighed and hesitantly returned to her stool. “I guess I can’t turn that down.”

He raised his hand to grab Kouga’s attention. As soon as he was within earshot, Inuyasha ordered a cranberry vodka.

“What?” Kagome asked with a raised brow.

Inuyasha’s eyes questioned her. “What’s the problem?”

She shook her head. “I don’t want some girlie drink,” she pointed out. “If I’m getting a free drink out of all of this, it’s going to be something I like.”

He frowned. “What the hell do you want then?”

“I’ll have what you’re having,” she replied, noticing his empty glass.

Smirking, as he was sure this woman was going to regret her decision, Inuyasha turned his attention back to Kouga. “Two shots of your finest whiskey,” he ordered.

“Make mine a double,” he heard Kagome speak up from beside him.

Inuyasha felt his jaw drop open slightly and he studied her. “A double?” he parroted, leaning his arm against the bar top.

“Yes, a double,” she confirmed with a nod.

He chuckled and shook his head. “Are you planning on hitting the floor tonight?”

Her eyes scrutinized him, fearless and full of a fiery spirit. She was not backing down. “I can handle my liquor,” she assured confidently.

Inuyasha’s eyes dipped to examine her body. She was a tiny little thing. Couldn’t have weighed more than one-twenty soaking wet. And she thought she could keep up with him? He smirked. This was going to be fun.

“Whatever you say, wench.”

She finished off her margarita and scowled. “My name is Kagome,” she addressed him. “So you can stop calling me that.”

“Sure thing,” he said, leaning toward her. “Wench.”

This was going to be very fun indeed.

#inuyasha #kagome #inukag #fanfiction #inuyasha fanfiction #kouga #ayame #my fanfiction #sassy stays classy #double shot of heaven

[scribbleb-red]

i like your face - a morning au

“I’ll get the drinks,” Neil says as soon as they walk into Eden’s.

Andrew raises an eyebrow.

“No one needs to get stabbed tonight,” Neil says. “It’s Hapless Sam on the bar.”

“Spoilsport,” Andrew mutters, but doesn’t move with Neil when he heads to the bar.

Hapless Sam is the new barman helping Roland, stepping in for a few months whilst Ebony, the usual yin to Roland’s yang, is off to have surgery.

Hapless Sam is also the bane of Andrew’s life. He never gets a drinks order right. He constantly peppers them with bad one liners. He also once tried to pick up both Neil and Nicky and Aaron in one night - only stopping when Aaron suddenly duplicated and Andrew stuck a blade under his chin. After that, Roland stepped in.

But the bar was overrun tonight and if Andrew had to so much as look at Hapless Sam - well, someone is going to prison and someone is leaving in a body bag. And you don't need to be a genius to figure out which.

So Neil goes to the bar and Andrew keeps an eye on him - on the red of his hair, the sway of his hips, a new quirk that he had to know drove Andrew crazy. It should be illegal for someone like Neil to have any kind of rhythm - but Neil wasn’t a bad dancer. He was sinuous and unreal, if a little self conscious, and Andrew really really needed a drink before that happened again.

Because it will, promised the voice in his head. Nicky will never rest until Neil dances again. Even if it killed Andrew. He suspected it was partly because Nicky wanted him to dance too.

Neil came back an achingly long time later. There was something odd about the way he looked at Andrew, half a question hovering right beneath his skin.

He set down the tray and Nicky chitters, Aaron glowers, Kevin reaches forward expectantly.

But there’s a yell from the bar and Andrew looks up to see Roland’s furious face, Hapless Sam’s horror.

He catches Roland’s eye and the frantic look there - the way he's turned to stare at Andrew tells him everything.

“Don’t fucking drink anything,” he says to his table.

Aaron puts his glass down. Kevin looks torn but relents under Andrew's stare. Nicky frowns and leans back.

Neil however sways on the spot. His eyes are blown wide, two black pools ringed with the finest circle of ice blue. Andrew reaches for him and Neil reaches back. He looks sad and confused.

"N'drew..." he slurs, "Did I do su'thin bad?" There's a tinge of British in there, a twirl of French.

Andrew tugs Neil down beside him, stomach hollowing because he doesn't know what Neil's taken but it's clear he's taken something. Rage pools in the empty cavern of his chest. He goes to push Neil at Nicky - Roland clearly knows something and he wants answers - but Neil makes a noise in his throat and catches hold of Andrew's sleeve. Even high he's not crossing lines. Andrew aches with that knowledge.

"What did I do?" Neil asks again. "I don' have none secrets."

It takes a moment for Andrew to realise Neil thinks this was his fault. That in some part of this idiot's head, he believes Andrew would drug him again.

"It wasn't me," Andrew says, voice low. "You're okay Neil."

"Stay with Nicky, I'll talk to Roland." And probably gut Hapless Sam, whose fault it inevitably is.

Neil makes that whining noise again and Andrew wishes they didn't have an audience. "Don't wanna kiss Nicky."

"Who said anything about kissing?"

"Not Nicky. Only you."

Nicky's guilty look sets Andrew's teeth on edge.

Andrew needs to talk to Roland but can't leave Neil with the Monsters. Fortunately, Roland comes to them bearing a new tray of drinks and a harried expression.

"Fucking hell guys, I'm sorry. None of you drank those, right?"

"Don't worry Sammy's been banished to the kitchen, he's not doing anything like this again and--"

Andrew is up and in his face within seconds - pinioning Roland against the wall, arm across his throat, knife pricking his side.

"What has he taken?"

Roland notices Neil, gulps.

"It's a new syrup - they call it Goblin Juice and it looks just like lime cordial - Sam thought it was lime for the soda. Fuck Andrew do you need the knife? Ow fuck fuck fuck okay stop, it's made using shrooms. Non addictive. Just meant to make you happy - kinda soft."

But of course Neil was the one who drank it. If it had been any of the others, perhaps no one would have even noticed - maybe even celebrated the free high.

But Neil...

Kevin and Aaron are helping themselves to the new drinks when he lets Roland go. Nicky looks pale and nervous and is holding a shot but not drinking. Neil has flopped back on their sofa and is staring at Andrew, a wide smile on his face that Andrew immediately hates.

"I really like your face," Neil says when his brain catches up and realises Andrew is paying attention again. "You have a good face."

Andrew shoots daggers with his eyes at Roland and the barman flees, promising free drinks for the night and the next, forever, whenever.

Neil smiles and reaches for Andrew again as he comes back.

Andrew is not drunk enough for this shit, especially when Nicky coos. "Oh he's so cute. He should have gotten high sooner."

Andrew wants to warn his cousin to back off but Neil has wriggled around and nuzzled his face against Andrew's shoulder. It's heedlessly distracting. It's dangerously adorable.

"Do yous like my face Nyandrew?" Neil says. "I really really like yours. Look at your face. Hey is my head still attached?"

Andrew sees the way Neil is teetering, wraps his hand across the back of Neil's neck and tugs him close. It's not a hug. It's for the idiot's own safety that's all. However, apparently for sky-high-Neil, silence and gestures isn't an answer.

"You don't like my face?"

The slight tremble in Neil's voice is what makes Andrew swallow his frustration and reply. He can't stand that tremble. "I like your fucking face." "I like yours too." And then Neil's finger boops Andrew's cheek.

"Nose," he says. "Good nose."

For. Fucks. Sake.

But it's kind of hilarious (and ruinously cute) as Neil - gentle as a moth wing - strokes over Andrew's cheek and along his temple, finds the bridge of his nose and the swell of his lips.

"Good face."

Andrew contains himself by a miracle. He's fairly sure Aaron is filming this.

"If that footage goes anywhere but the trash, I'll fucking stab you."

"If you were going to stab me, you would have done it a long time ago brother."

"No stabbing," Neil says. "Too many witnesses. Oh hey, look at the fireflies."

Neil lifts one hand to the empty ceiling. There are no fireflies. This is Eden's. Andrew wants to take Neil home but doesn't think putting him in a car is going to do much good right about now.

"You like my face," Neil sighs and sits back. "Even all of this."

"Yes," Andrew says. "Because of all of this."

It's not the scars, it's because Neil survived. That he should have broken and yet still held himself together by tooth and claw.

"I didn't drug you," Andrew says, close to the shell of Neil's ear. "I promise."

"Okay," Neil says. "Good. I don't wanna kiss Nicky."

And there it is again, the second time Neil has mentioned this. Andrew looks at his cousin, who has escaped with Kevin onto the dancefloor.

They'll have a little chat later, when Neil isn't on another planet.

"You're the best," Neil says. "I'll kiss you."

"Not tonight."

Because even if Neil is warm and flush against him. Even if Neil is soft and pliant and willing. This is a man who has been drugged and cannot give consent. Hell, he's watching fireflies that don't exist and stroking Andrew's chin, like he's forgotten Andrew has teeth. Neil is not okay.

Aaron leans back in his chair. "If it's molly, he could be flying for hours."

"It's some kind of shroom shit."

"So even longer then."

Andrew's fingers tighten on Neil's shoulder. "So we can't wait this out?" He should have asked Roland that.

"Probably not, no. Take him home. I'll bring the others."

And for once Andrew decides to trust his brother. He gathers Neil and his loose limbs and leaves Aaron to manage Kevin and Nicky. It’s a one of the hardest things he’s ever done but Bee’s buzzing voice tells him it's time to let Aaron prove himself, standalone.

Neil is awful as they leave - smiling at everyone and everything, even things that aren’t there. His eyes shine and every time he looks at Andrew, there’s a draw of breathe like he’s never seen him before.

“You are,” Neil says, “the best thing. The abs’lute best thing. Hold me up and keep me sage, no safe. Mean safe. You me safe.”

And Neil cannot sing but his voice is sing song and full of wonder.

Andrew is going to gut Hapless Sam like a fish from chin to pelvis.

They drive home - slowly because Neil keeps getting distracted by things Andrew is doing, like blinking (your eyelashes are so white, like snow flakes Andrew) and breathing (but look how you move, so amazing). But Neil is so soft and happy and obsessed, it’s hard to be angry.

Columbia is dark, their house musty with absence. They’ve not visited for a while and Andrew had been hoping for something slightly different tonight.

Neil apparently had too. “Yes? Andrew? Yes?” He says.

“No,” Andrew says. And he never thought he’d hate seeing Neil obey - not with this - but there’s hurt and confusion and concern and a thousand layers of emotion on Neil’s face when he hears it this time. All the feelings Neil must usually keep tucked away when it isn’t always yes for Andrew.

Andrew relents, “Just this,” he says as he settles onto the sofa, guiding Neil down with him. Neil’s reaction is instant - dopey smile and arms that snake around Andrew in a loose but escapable hold.

“Warm,” he says. “Strong.”

The hours tick by in highs and lows - Neil is happy in phases, then almost crying in others. He tells Andrew things that cross his mind, about Andrew, about the Foxes and exy. He hides in Andrew’s hoody when he sees shadows crawling and is convinced they’re from his father.

Andrew does his best to soothe and protect - it’s all in Neil’s head and Andrew isn’t a soft man, but he keeps Neil close and lets him talk. A few years ago he couldn’t have done this. But a few years ago he and Neil were new and still cutting each other on their sharp edges.

Aaron herds an unhappy Nicky and an almost paralytic Kevin inside. Aaron seems sober but that could just be in comparison.

“Our cousin,” Aaron tells Andrew, “is a fool. But you care about him and shouldn’t kill him for doing what you asked.”

“What did he do?”

Aaron shrugs. “Just a kiss I believe. But might explain a bit more why your nut-job boyfriend knocked himself out that time.”

“That was cos imma liar,” Neil chimes with all the confidence of the truly seshed. “Liar liar liar.”

“Not anymore.”

“Yeah. Not with you.”

There's water and toast and Neil naps at one point but Andrew doesn't because he knows what's next - and he's right. Neil is sick for what feels like hours but isn't. Aaron brings more water. A small part of Andrew wonders if his twin actually likes seeing Neil so ridiculous.

Turns out he's right about that too.

Aaron tells him when Neil is hurling up his guts that seeing Neil like this, seeing Andrew with him like this, makes more sense than anything he's seen prior.

"You're everything to him." Aaron doesn't say that Neil is everything to Andrew but the implication is there.

And when Neil is finally in their bed, safe and asleep, Andrew calls Roland and leaves a warning. Hapless Sam had better be fired or there wouldn't be an Eden's Twilight.

He stays awake and stays awake. He falls asleep around 6am.

Neither of them stir until well into the afternoon and when Neil does, he buries his face in the pillows and groans.

"Oh my god. Andrew I'm so --"

"Shut up." Andrew doesn't want apologies for this. He sees the embarrassed pink of Neil's ears, the flush on his neck. "Stop."

Neil groans again and Andrew knows he must feel like shit right about now. That he's mortified. That he's worried. That Andrew has the power to make it right.

Something wicked flickers in his gut.

"Hey junkie," he says. "I like your face."

-The End-

Notes:

#morning au #andreil #aftg #andrew minyard #neil josten #post canon #all for the game #absolute fluff #even if there's accidently non-consensual drug use #it's not deliberate #no one is an asshole #neil is very soft and sappy #he really likes Andrew's face #eden's twilight #very very fluffy

[astringofmadhousefloozies]

Birthday Sequence

Three friends have their birthday in a month of each other, and the parties get progressively more interesting. Content warnings for coarse language, offscreen sexuality, underage drinking and the consequences thereof.

As always, check my Twisted Wonderland Fanfiction tag for more, let me know if you enjoyed reading, and if you want to chat or ask a question, my askbox is open.

~*~*~*~

"You look great."

Idia made a whine you were certain they could hear in Savannahclaw and put his face in his hands. "Why did no one tell me about the birthday event?"

"I dunno, because we'd all assumed you'd seen everyone else put on the prissy little birthday boy suit and dance around like an idiot while I did an interview, and realized you weren't exempt."

"But why didn't you make Crowley skip me?" He looked ready to cry, so you you got up on tiptoes to kiss his nose and dry his tears, which simply had the opposite effect.

"Because maybe I wanted to see you dressed up pretty for a change?"

He just groaned. "Wasn't the festival enough?"

"Never enough; not with you. I'll make sure me and Ortho are your bodyguards, okay? Now, get out there and pretend they're all in their underwear. I got a present on the table for you. And..."

"And?"

"If you're truly overwhelmed, I'll bring you back here to hide, and get you out of the monkey suit myself."

It took him three seconds to turn a truly absurd shade of pink, and flee out the door of his room. The only thing scarier than a crowd where you're the center of attention is a lover who's relentless in voicing her attraction, if you're a neurotic dweeb with a molten core of self-hatred.

~*~*~*~

He'd relaxed somewhat as the presents went on. After checking with each person if they'd rather he open it now or in private (shuddering every time someone said now, in fear of bad reactions), he'd so far wound up with a super mega deluxe vinyl release of the Moirai's most recent album (despite not owning a record player, but it came with the digital album and lots of feelers so he still liked it very much), piles of sweets, and wouldn't have to pay for the subscriptions on most of his game for at least two years. And, he still had a pile to go through.

"Who's this one?"

"That's me. Go ahead."

He lifted the lid off the box, and took out a little creature, a sofubi toy of transluscent grey plastic painted with pearly stripes and shiny green eyes. "I've never seen this Nyarochi before." He turned it this way and that, a small smile on his lips. "Where'd you get this?"

"I got it blank at that second hand shop you showed me."

"... Blank." You could see the gears turning.

"Why do you think I asked to borrow your airbrush?"

Turning, turning... there we go. "You did this?"

"Yeah, dude. One of a kind, just for you."

He looked back and forth between you and the toy, smile growing. Once finally settled on you, he lit up - literally; his hair let out a bright, sparking burst that left spots in your eyes. You think he might have said thank you, you were too busy reeling from the sweetness of his expression, all directed at you, and little Nyarochi was tucked in his jacket pocket until he finally left for his room, you in tow.

~*~*~*~

"Hey Sam."

"Hey, Yuu. What can I get for you this fine day?"

"I got a list. I'm making something for Lilia. Did you know he's a new year's baby?"

"I did!" Sam scanned the list, only to set it down and raise an eyebrow at you. "I have much of this, and can order almost all the rest. You do know I'm not allowed to sell alcohol to a minor."

"It ain't for me, though. Do you know where I can get it?"

He shuffled around in a drawer before sliding a card across the table. "In Stock Now! The solution to your problem."

It was your turn to raise an eyebrow. "Sam. Does Crowley know you're selling fake IDs?" Your turned it over. "Really, really good fake IDs?"

"Crowley lets me do what I want, because I might stop doing what he wants."

You laughed. "Gross. Alright, I don't know the price, but can I get a discount if I help you stock a few weekends?"

"I'll do layaway just for you, if you come in next week."

~*~*~*~

"Yuu!" Lilia leapt at you, and you swung him around in a hug. "It's so great to have you here! Where's my loot?"

"I got to finish it, let me go a minute."

He did, and watched with interest as you set up from your cooler. You ran a lime around the rim of a glass, and crust it with red salt before filling it with ice.

"Yuuuuuuu. My little darling. You know I'm too young to drink."

"No you're not, dude. it's an open secret, like what happens in that shed behind the gym stays there and you don't get admitted to NRC if you're completely heterosexual." You added the mix to the glass, before tossing in a celery stick and sliding it over to him.

He barked out a laugh and took the glass. "That's true all right." He sipped at it and smiled. "What is it?"

"At home they call it a Caesar. I made up a shitton and I'm leaving you with the recipe, which you have to follow. I figure you liked your tomato juice, so..."

"It is just my taste. Thank you." You'd only blinked, and he'd already finished it and slid the glass back. "More, please."

~*~*~*~

You'd learned two things tonight, of which you'd only dimly suspected one. The first was that Lilia could probably drink the entire school under the table, staff and ghosts included. The second, far more interesting thing, was that when tipsy, Lil talked about his past, and in his past, he truly redefined the meaning of "absolute slut".

Looking like a particularly cute teenybopper had not stopped him from fucking his way through most of the Court of Thorns, and a great deal of the places he'd visited, in ways both inventive and more than occasionally disturbing. You really, really ought to stop him; poor Mal was standing out on the balcony with his fingers in his ears, singing very loudly to drown out the noise, but you were too busy taking notes. Kalim was listening to his fellow Light Music Club member in awe, and Cater had been recording for the past forty five minutes, though you were pretty sure if he uploaded any of this his Magicam account would get permabanned for pornographic content.

"And that's when his sister - fabulous woman, cunt like a ripe fig and she'd start giggling every time you..." he stopped and swirled his empty glass. "Where'd my drink go?"

"You drank it all, dear. There's none left."

"Aww. Why'd I have to share it all." He set his glass down and plucked the half-full one from in front of Silver's sleeping form. "Hey, did I ever tell you what I got up to with his," nodding out towards Malleus,"his grandmother?"

You never found out, as Mal simply bodied him clean across the room before any more could be said.

~*~*~*~

"Vil."

"What."

"Can I borrow your lab equipment?"

He narrowed his eyes. "Why."

"I wanna make perfume."

He brightened. "Finally decided to stop smelling like a haunted house?"

"Vil, I actually pay real money for perfume that smells like a haunted house. I have multiple. Sometimes I layer them, to mix with the natural scent of the haunted house I already live in. And it's not for me, though if this works I might try to make stuff for myself."

He wrinkled his nose at you, somehow not creasing his makeup. "Why should I help you?"

You thought about it, and then shrugged. "Well. Why not?"

"... I hate that I can't argue with that. Come on."

~*~*~*~

You have no idea if the party was sedate because of the relatively few people outside of Diasomnia, or because everyone was scared of potential etiquette breaches. You could not complain either way; parties wore on you as they went on and Idia hadn't tried to leave in fear. Either way, Mal was starting to go from blandly cheerful host to fretful.

"What if there is too much cake? I don't wan't to have to finish it."

"You don't have to, dude. Cake's for sharing."

"When I was young, I was the only person at my party who wasn't a servant. So I would end up eating the entire cake by myself, every time." He stared off into the middle distance. "I don't really like cake."

"That's the single saddest thing I have ever heard in my entire life, holy shit dude."

"Why have a cake then, if you don't like it?" Idia was halfway through his piece. Third piece, actually. You envied his capacity to eat what seemed like his weight in buttercreme and not get nauseous, even if you worried for his pancreas.

"Tradition," Mal said, as if he was explaining the most obvious thing in the world.

"You should have done an ice cream cake, then. You actually like that."

"That is an option?" He paused, eyes full of wonder. "What else can be ice cream?"

You cut in before Malleus could continue down a road of ice-cream-everything. "You know, if you're that worried about leftovers, why not send a wrapped slice with the thank you cards for the gifts? Gets rid of it all so you won't be compelled to eat it ‘til you're sick."

Mal instantly grabbed you. "You are a brilliant, amazing, genius of a person. I'm glad you're my Son of Man and I like you very much."

Idia gave the tinest of coughs, looking towards the poison-coloured flames in the fireplace.

"You are mine too. I like the special case for my Dragon-Kun very much."

"Thought you would." He smiled down at his plate.

"Oh, shit, yeah. Here's mine." You brought the bag out from behind your seat and handed it over; Mal shredding it in his excitement.

"... What is this?" the box inside revealed a set of five amber bottles with screw-on tops.

"Your own special perfume blend. Rose petals from the Heartslabyul garden, blackberries, and the fruit of a blackthorn tree." You leaned back in your seat and struggled not to laugh at your own hideous pun. "I call it Feeling Thorny."

Good thing the box was well padded, because he dropped it in his laughter. Idia, bless his heart, wound up choking on some of the cake and needed an entire glass of water to stop coughing.

"I got the goods!" Lilia and Sebek had returned, the latter glowering at you over the top of a dusty crate as though he'd assumed you'd simply eat his precious prince alive the second his back was turned.

"What's the goods, Lil."

"Well, he's got friends he made here for this party, so I figured I'd crack something open from my stash." He pried the top of the crate with his bare hands, which would have made you need to sit down if you hadn't been already. "Saving this for a special occasion."

"Lilia, there's no need to bring that out for us."

"Nonsense! You deserve it! And this party's too damned slow. A little wine will be just the thing, and this is very light stuff, you'll all be fine."

You doubted that, but still accepted the glass of liquid gold when offered. It smelled sweet and floral, and to your pleasant surprise, did not taste like fermented misery when sipped.

Wait a minute.

"Lil, if I drink the fairy wine, I don't have to go live in the Valley of Thorns forever, do I?"

Malleus, seizing opportunity, sad "Yes" at the same time Lilia said "No" and Lil elbowed Mal in the ribs for it. "I'm not invoking any of our more traditional rules of hospitality. If I must," he said, elbowing Mal again before he could try to weave anything, "Let this be in return for being such wonderful friends to both me and my boy."

"I'll accept it." You sipped more as Silver wandered over and leaned over Idia for a glass himself. Idia simply drained his own to try and distract himself from the proximity of him before the anxiety kicked into high gear. Maybe it would vanish entirely if you got him profoundly drunk, you thought to yourself, but that wasn't something you wanted to try. He had enough issues without his deciding alcoholism was the solution to his problems.

Time to settle down and enjoy the evening. The wine didn't feel like anything, so what could possibly happen?

~*~*~*~

You woke up with a pounding head, your party clothes in disarray, and new and interesting pains. You examined yourself and your surroundings, and let things come back naturally.

Lilia, being very generous with his bottles, to the point of not letting a glass go empty at any point. Malleus sitting with his legs crossed and head in his hands, gazing warmly and not without hunger at a both very animated and disheveled Idia as he talked. You getting up to leave, and sitting right back down because your legs didn't work, so you'd simply...

Simply wound up here in Mal's bed, instead of home. With both of your boys.

The evidence wasn't the best. No telltale soreness, but you had a number of new and interesting bite marks, including one very high on your inner thigh with the dentition clearly showing fangs. Your underwear was in place, even if the tule of your pannier was shredded, so you didn't think you'd done anything more than very heavy petting. And to tell the truth? The idea of having done anything more didn't bother you - truly, there weren't other people you'd rather have done it with - but the idea that you had? And you couldn't recall all the fun details? Agonizing.

You leaned over, holding your head, to brush the hair off of Mal's face. He looked at ease, and had managed to slot himself into his weird pillows, so at least he wouldn't wake up with a crick in his neck.. You checked your boyfriend, clinging to Mal's far side like a lanky blue limpet. On his collarbone, at the spot where you preferred to leave your own marks, was a bite similar to the one on your leg. You had to turn away at the sight; the images it brought to your mind left your flushed and dizzy with want despite your pain. How fun, to learn new and interesting things about yourself.

Idia stirred and sat up. He looked to you, to Mal, to you again. His face had no expression beyond starting to turn rapidly grey and sweaty.

You pointed. "That door."

He nodded once before stumbling off to bed and through the bathroom door, to puke away his hangover.

Alright, next step. You poked at your sleeping friend. "Mal. You alive?"

He opened both eyes, bloodshot with a hair-thin pupil, and started making a noise akin to a base boosted tea kettle up 'til you placed a pillow over his head to shut him up. Fortunately, it worked immediately, he lay where he was like an idiot until adjusting it so the pillow merely blocked the top of his face.

"Yuu. How are you feeling?"

You thought about it. "Like I got run through a laundry press. You?"

He smacked his lips and ran his tongue over his teeth. "My mouth has grown fur."

"Wonderful."

"Light hurts."

"Par for the course."

"I'm not sure what else yet. Where is Shroud?"

Another bout of heaving from Malleus's bathroom answered that thoroughly.

Mal pouted. "Poor thing. He didn't even have that much."

"We all had enough. I'm still remembering bits and pieces."

He reached towards you and grabbed your arm, squeezing. "You are... you..." As much as he struggled for the words, the anxiety in his voice made the meaning clear enough.

"I'm not upset over any of it. I just hate that I don't recall it clearly yet." You extracted your arm from his grasp, and slid off the bed. "I'm gonna get water from the hall bathroom. You want any?"

He smacked his lips again, and smiled, wider than you'd ever seen him do before, specks of blood still crusted in the grooves of his teeth. "I can still taste you on my tongue. I never want it to fade."

"Hhhhhholy shit you need water. Bye." You left to try and hide the wobbling in your legs that wasn't from the hangover.

~*~*~*~

"You."

You stopped, and stared. It took an entire four seconds to realize that the large, half-dressed green bean glaring at you from the doorway was Sebek before he styled his hair in the morning. "You mean like, my name, or just me in general?"

He pointed a finger, hissing out his words. "You finally did it! You evil little minx."

"I didn't, actually, or at least not what you think."

He kept going, trying to keep his voice down. "You've seduced Lord Malleus! And now you're going to try and steal the crown."

What in the actual fuck. And he wasn't done yet. "You cruel temptress! Leading him on just so that you could become a queen our people would detest! My poor lord, at the whims of some-"

"Hey, you jealous there, Zig? You mad you aren't serving him all ways? If you want his dick so bad-"

"Shhhhhhhhh!" He looked over his shoulder, back inside, before glaring back at you. "I couldn't do that in good conscience! Lord Malleus deserves someone who holds only him in their heart. He's not my whole heart, so I wouldn't try. You, you have damn near everyone here wrapped around your fingers! And it's still not enough for you!"

"Sebek! He is my friend. And I give zero fucks about the whole throne thing, just so you know. Why would I want to be a queen? That shit sounds exhausting. And he isn't going to ascend until my great grandkids are in the dirt, so, yanno, shit planning if I tried."

Sebek was trying to think of a rebuttal when a pair of hands squeezed him from behind. "Stop yelling. I'm going to brush my teeth." Silver let go and circled around, dragging his hand along Sebek's waist as he did. "Be ready when I'm back." With that, he walked past you with his small smirk to the bathroom you'd just exited, wearing nothing but one of Sebek's shirts.

You watched the hemline skirting the back of his thighs with entirely too much interest before looking back at Sebek. "God damn, dude."

"Say anything else and I will throw you out the window."

~*~*~*~

Mal had traded his bed for sitting on the floor, braced against the wall by the bathroom. He'd managed to close the drapes against the garish light of morning, and the sounds from beyond the wall had changed from sickness to a running shower as you gave Mal a cup. "Drink up, asshole."

"How am I an asshole?"

"Because it's your birthday we all got drunk at."

"Please blame Lilia for that. Fairy wine is not something humans should start the evening with." He sipped the water and grimaced.

"Taste bad?"

"I forgot I didn't want to put anything else in my mouth after you."

"Mal, no. There won't be a repeat, even if I don't really regret it."

He looked at you with heart about to break. "Why not?"

"It's not fair to either of you! I love you dearly, but I'm not in love with you. I'm in love with him." You sighed. Even as more of last night came back, you realized you may have broken the whole thing beyond repair. "And how would you like it if you saw me running around with someone else? Don't say you wouldn't be jealous. You've got a five mile streak of it."

Mal was silent, before saying very quietly, "I don't mind so much after having him too."

"Yeah, well." You put your head in your hands. "You're sure he didn't jump out the window to hide in his room forever after that?"

Mal knocked againt the door, wincing at the noise. "Idia? You are present? You're alive in there?"

A few moments before that shaky reply of "I'm not sure, check in five minutes."

Mal smiled. "That's promising, is it not?"

"You know I can hear you out there, right?"

"I didn't."

"I can." More silence. "Also, the window doesn't open."

You quirked your mouth. "Is the shower helping? I might need a turn."

"Some."

"Do you want to talk about last night?"

More silence, before a small, "Not yet," as the shower shut off. "Can I borrow a robe? My clothes are wet."

"Go ahead, Idia."

He exited in a cloud of steam and purple-black terrycloth, and simply laid down on the floor, gripping it as if he would fly off.

"Still bad?"

He noded, cheek pressed against the floor. Fresh from the water, his hair was low enough that you could make out the actual hair on his head, each glowing like the finest fiber optic thread.

"Well. I don't think any of us are going to class today. So stay as long as you need to."

"Thank god, I don't want to try those damned stairs until my head's on right." You thought to yourself for a moment. "Is Ortho okay?"

Idia actually managed a smile. "I told him I was thinking of staying over and trying to activate event flags."

It took you a moment to understand the implications of that. "Noooo. This was not your idea."

"Mal wasn't. But. Ummmmm." He held up a hand and wiggled it. "He was there?"

"Your boyfriend is interestingly pliable when someone puts their mouth on him. A trait you both share, actually."

You felt ready to burst into flames. This could not be happening. "So who's idea was you getting under my skirts, Mal? That bruise is going to last weeks."

"Yours, actually. You wouldn't let go of my horns until you were satisfied."

The memory of that, and more, hit you like a transport truck, and you simply laid down and refused to say anything until Lilia burst in, disgustingly chipper and with a platter of burnt toast to chew on until the worst of the hangover was gone.

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland fanfiction #idia shroud #lilia vanrouge #malleus draconia

[jobean12-blog]

Top Shelf: Chapter 7- Love Lines & Soul Finds

Pairing: Bucky x reader (Bookstore/bartender AU)

Word Count: 2,966

Summary: You and Bucky go on your first date, make some plans and share much more than just your time. 

Author’s Note: So, I’ve been thinking about this story a lot lately and I realize that it really is just a love story. There is nothing new or revolutionary about it, just two people falling in love in my favorite city. I know it’s slow moving but I’m so thankful for those of you that have been reading and sticking with me. I really appreciate it because believe me I have read and continue to read some really fucking incredible series out there that were and are so exciting and amazing in every way. People are so damn talented! Thank you again! Also, Gallow Green, Attaboy (the bar Bucky works at) and Harbs are all real places in NYC that I’ve been too and I can’t wait to go again ❤ Thank you all for reading, all my love❤❤❤

Warnings: fluff, super corny sweet Bucky, first date excitement, tiny angst (super tiny), Bucky to the rescue, implied sexy times, lots of kisses as usual :) 

Previous Chapters 

Chapter 1: Enchantment 

Chapter 2: Cookie Crumble

Chapter 3: Sweet Anticipation

Chapter 4: Read Between the Limes

Chapter 5: Secrets on the Shelf

Chapter 6: Love Between the Covers

The rest of your day goes by quickly. Nat comes over to help you pick out your date night outfit as you both gush over your evenings “Do you think it’s bad that I can’t wait to see him again and I just saw him a few hours ago?” you ask, chewing on your bottom lip as you stare at her. With a scoff she throws a new dress at you, “try this on and stop it. You’re obviously head over heels for him and from what you tell me and what I saw he feels the same. Enjoy yourself.”

You shimmy into the dress, pulling at the hem and waist before twirling to face Nat, “yes?” She claps her hands and gives you thumbs up, “perfect, you look amazing.” Once your hair and makeup are finished you text Bucky to let him know you’ll be leaving soon. Nat walks out with you and you each hail a cab. “Have fun with Sam tonight!” you chime, giving her a wink. She rolls her eyes but can’t hide her smile, “thanks, I know he’s going to be working at the bar but I’m just excited to hang out again.” Pulling her in for a hug you tell her, “I so get it.”

When you reach the bookshop, you hop out of the cab, thanking and tipping the driver and all but skipping to the door. The bell chimes when you walk in, your eyes searching the front of the store for Bucky. He’s no where to be seen so you head to the reading nook at the back, your eyes lighting up when you find a single rose laying on the cushion with a note attached. “I’m still wearing the smile you gave me.”

“Oh Bucky,” you say into the silence, bringing the flower up to your nose. You hear his footsteps approach and turn to see him walking down the aisle toward you. You launch yourself into his arms, rose in hand and kiss him. “Thank you, thank you, it’s so beautiful.” “Not as beautiful as you. You look incredible, he states, kissing you again, this time letting his hands wander over your waist and hips. Any other words you had planned to say are silenced by his mouth on yours, the kiss quickly heating up.

He pulls away to breathe, his fingers twirling into your hair. “What time are out reservations?” you ask, failing to hide the want in your voice. “In like 20 minutes,” he pouts, “and it’s so nice out I figured we could walk there since it’s close.” Brushing your lips to his you ask, “does that mean we need to leave now?” Bucky gives you a small nod and squeezes your hand. “Ok. I’ve really been looking forward to this, so we better leave now before we don’t,” you say with a wink.

“I have too, let’s go!” Bucky agrees with one last kiss. The two of you walk hand in hand down the street, the city alive with the excitement over the change in weather, summer on the way. “I love this city,” you whisper into the wind, smiling at Bucky. “Me too, y/n. Even more so now,” he adds, watching you dip your head with a blush. He stops you in the middle of the street, pulling you in a for a sweet kiss, “mmmm definitely like it more now.”

He starts walking again, bringing your hand up to his lips as you practically float next to him. “Here we are,” he says, motioning to a sweet little spot tucked away in Chelsea. “I’ve never been here before!” you say with excitement. “Just wait until you see the outdoor seating in the back.” Smiling like an idiot you greet the hostess and follow her to the back, your breath catching as you take in the intimate seating area surrounded beautiful greenery and soft lighting. “Here are your menus, your waiter will be with you right away, welcome to Gallow Green.”

“Oh, Bucky! It’s so perfect!” you quietly squeal, looking around. “I had a feeling you would love it here, I’m glad it was a surprise, I was worried you might have been before.” Shaking your head, no you reach out to grab his hand, “thank you. This is already the best first date I’ve ever had.” Bucky’s smile widens and his eyes crinkle and you fall a little harder, hoping you don’t have actual hearts in your eyes.

“I’m so glad, doll. I know we did things a little backwards, but I want you to know I intended to take you out properly and all.” Instead of blushing at his own implication he says it with confidence, his eyes darkening as you hum and brush your foot up his leg. “Oh, it was worth it,” you assure him. Letting out a low growl only you can hear, he replies, “so worth it.”

The waiter comes over and neither of you notice until he clears his throat and smiles, asking if you would like drinks and to hear the specials. You order some drinks and Bucky recommends some appetizers. The conversation flows as easily as ever, Bucky asking you questions about your childhood and telling you more about his and the adventures with his grandparents. You learn that he spent many of his younger years with them, the bond they have extremely special and strong.

“So, I’m named after him, my mother knew it would make him so happy. Everyone calls me Bucky instead of James so no one gets confused, but I think we could have handled it.” He laughs, clearly caught up in a memory. You don’t push, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze while you give him the moment. “Grandpa would have loved you, you know,” he says, voice strained with emotion. Before you can answer he continues, “and grandma won’t stop asking when you’re coming over for dinner.”

You get up, Bucky’s brows furrowing in confusion until you circle your arm around his neck and sit in his lap, kissing him firmly before whispering in his ear, “thank you.” He hums against your lips, securing you against his chest as you two continue to whisper to each other, drawing the eyes of the other patrons.

Noticing the waiter approaching with your tray of food you reluctantly get up and sit back in your seat, Bucky’s eyes twinkling with amusement as the waiter smiles at you both. “Enjoy your meal, if you need anything just let me know.” Thanking him you dig in, tasting everything and loving it! “The food is so good!” you say through a mouthful. Bucky gives you a wink, taking a forkful off his plate and holding it up to you, “here, try this.” He brings the fork to your mouth, gently feeding you the bite, his eyes bright as he watches you chew. “WOW,” is all you manage to say.

The rest of dinner is a whirlwind of delicious food, perfect conversation, and soft touches. When you leave the restaurant Bucky throws his arm around your shoulder and pulls you close to his side, “want to have some really amazing dessert before heading back? I know a great place nearby.” You smile up at him, crooking your finger so he leans down for a kiss. “I bet I know where you’re going to take me,” you say against his mouth.

“Try me,” he counters, nuzzling his nose to yours. “HARBS!” you shout, maybe a little too loudly but you don’t really care. “OK FINE, you’re right!” he says, with a playful roll of his eyes.  You come to a dead stop, standing still on the sidewalk, and looking at Bucky wide eyed. “Bucky, what am I going to get?!?! A slice of the Queen of cake or one of the Strawberry cake!?!?! I can’t eat two, they are huge!”

It takes Bucky a moment to realize you’ve stopped walking because you’re unsure of what slice of cake to get at Harbs. He laughs, jogging back to you and snaking his arm around your waist, “how about we get a slice of each and we can share them, this way you can have both!” Giggling into his neck you say, “oh yea, that makes sense.” He brushes his fingers along your jaw, gently drawing your eyes to his, “it does, doesn’t it.”

You smile up at him for the 100th time that evening and Bucky can feel those familiar words pile up, settling right on the tip of his tongue, both weightless and heavy. He recognizes the look in your eyes because it’s reflected in his own and before he can think on it any more he opens his mouth only to be interrupted by a loud, “hey asshole, watch where you’re goin’, can’t ya see I’m walking here.”

Bucky instinctively wraps his arms around you and blocks your body with his which makes you laugh into his shoulder. “I thought you grew up in this city, Bucky? Aren’t you used to this crap?” you ask him, eyes alight with laughter. His shoulders drop and he lets out a breath, “I did! I am, I was just…distracted,” he says, a light blush tinting his cheeks.

“He did kind of ruin our moment, huh?” Standing on your toes you leave a trail of kisses along his neck and jaw, effectively changing the mood. “Ready for some dessert?” you say before kissing his lips.  “Like hell I am, maybe we should get it to go?” Twirling and pulling him by the hand you look over your shoulder with a sly smile, “I thought you’d never ask.”

The next day…

Monday morning hits you like a ton of bricks, the lack of sleep and previous nights fun catching up to you. Bucky left early, allowing you time to get ready for work and time for him to get home before opening the store. Even with the heaviness of the day you feel like you’re floating on air, your thoughts never far from Bucky and the perfect weekend you had.

“Nat, I swear. It was the perfect date. I feel like this can’t be real.” You walk and talk, making your way toward the building. “He’s too good to be true!” Nat chuckles in your ear, “I know what you mean, but he’s very real.” With a dreamy sigh you nod in agreement even though she can’t see you. “I bet you look like one of those walking hearts for eyes emoji’s right now,” she laughs, never one to stop teasing you. “Whatever, Nat! You’re gonna be right where I am before you know it. I can tell you really like Sam.” She doesn’t deny it, but you can feel her smile through the phone. “Whatever you say, y/n. Have a good day.”

Ending your call, you head into work, seeing that Bucky had sent you a text while you were talking to Nat. ‘Miss you already, doll❤ .’ You crash your phone to your chest, stopping dead in your tracks and doing a small happy dance. “Happy Monday to you too,” your coworker laughs, “someone must have had a good weekend.” You smile brightly and say, “something like that,” before walking to your desk.

You don’t get to see Bucky the for the next couple of days, work, errands, and life in general keeping you busy. He texts you every morning when he first wakes up and you two are in touch throughout the day. By the time Thursday rolls around you’re sick of work and decide you’re going to cut out early and visit him at the bookshop.

When you walk in you notice he’s speaking to someone, but you can’t quite see who it is behind his large frame. Your footsteps alert them both and Bucky turns to you, his face lighting up as he jogs over and crushes you to his chest. “Hi,” he whispers into your hair. “I’m gonna kiss you now even though my grandma is watching, I’ve been waiting all week!” You don’t get a chance to argue, his lips crashing to yours in a light but sweet kiss.

He grudgingly pulls away and walks you over to his grandma, her happiness at seeing you nearly mirroring his. “So good to see you again, y/n,” she says as she gives you a hug. “It’s lovely to see you too Betty!” With a twinkle in her eye she looks you both over, “Bucky and I were just talking about you, weren’t we? When are you available to come over for dinner?” Leaning into Bucky, you say, “what about Sunday?” “That sounds perfect and would you bring some of those delicious cookies you made?” Bucky agrees, “oh yes! And you should probably make an extra batch just for me!” Poking his side, you happily say “yes,” giving Betty one more hug as she explains she must leave so she isn’t late for her mahjong game.

As soon as his grandma is out of sight Bucky pulls you into the small room behind the counter, backing you against the wall, “I really hope we don’t get any customers.” You dip your fingers into his jeans and pull his body flush to yours, kissing him soundly. Your make out session is interrupted by the chime of the bell over the door, the loud chatter of a group of people cutting through the moment. “Shit, shit, shit,” Bucky whines.

Plastering on his best sales smile he walks out and greets the customers, quickly pointing them in the right direction. “Let me know if you need anything else.” You sneak out from behind the counter and pretend as if you’re searching for a book. “Excuse me sir, could you help me find something.” Bucky’s eyes darken as he stalks toward you. “Did you just call me sir?” he all but growls into your ear. You give his hair a little tug, a cheeky grin on your face as you say, “maybe I did.”

Right before he gets the chance to steal a few more kisses the people emerge from the aisle, books in hand. “I guess I have to go check them out,” he sighs, giving you a quick peck before doing just that. He finishes up, glancing at his watch, “we close in a half hour then I have a shift at the bar.” You wrap your arms around his neck, “are you working this weekend too?” He runs his hands over your ass and gives it a light squeeze, “Friday and Saturday again.”

“Well, maybe I’ll just have to come hang out at the bar. You know keep you company while you work. I could bring Nat; she’ll want to see Sam I’m sure.” Bucky kisses you, “that sounds,” another kiss, “perfect,” more kisses. “Mmm great, I’ll see you tomorrow night then.” After a few more heated moments you part, Bucky walking you out and waiting while you grab a cab.

No sooner does your ass hit the seat of the car that your phone pings, ‘can’t wait until tomorrow night😍.’ Your bubbly laugh is uncontrollable as you text him back, ‘me either,’ quickly opening Nat’s message and asking her if she wants to go to the bar with you.

Friday night…

“What do you think Nat?” you ask, as usual looking to her for advice on your outfit. “I love it and the color is amazing on you.” Touching up your lip gloss you smile at her in the mirror’s reflection, grabbing your bag with a “let’s go!”

The bar is packed and you text Bucky to let him know you’re there. In less than a minute, Sam is outside, greeting Nat with a sweet kiss and giving you a hug, “come on ladies, right this way.” Nat looks back at you and mouths, “nice,” as you move past the line.

As soon as you walk in you search for Bucky. You don’t see him behind the bar but continue following Sam to the other end, two open bar stools waiting for you. “Bucky’s grabbing something from the back but I can get you started,” Sam says smoothly. Nat tells him to make whatever he thinks you’ll like and Sam grins, kissing her cheek before moving behind the bar.

While you wait for your drinks and Bucky you and Nat gush over how cute Sam is. “Omg, I’m so excited. He seems so nice. And he has a great ass,” you laugh watching as Nat enthusiastically agrees. Just as you’re about to say something about Bucky a warm arm slides around your shoulders. The hairs on your arm stand up but not for a good reason as you turn your head and come face to face with a man you have never seen before.

“Can I help you,” you ask, tone unfriendly as you move out from under his arm. “Can I buy you a drink beautiful,” he asks, stepping into your personal space. “NO, thank you,” you say firmly, once again moving away from him. “Aw come on baby, you can’t tell me you didn’t come here looking for a good time tonight.” Your nose wrinkles in disgust, your mouth opening to tell him off.

“Hey buddy, didn’t you hear her when she said no thank you.” Now that’s a voice you recognize, spinning to see Bucky standing right behind you, his arms folded over his chest and his jaw clenched. “Who asked you, asshole,” the guy shoots back, clearly not taking a hint. “My boyfriend did, actually,” you say, wrapping your arms around Bucky’s middle and glaring at the guy. The guy scoffs, rolling his eyes and walking off while mumbling under his breath. You look up at Bucky, his eyes soft as he asks, “did you just call me your boyfriend?”

@aesthetical-bucky @buckys-broody-muffin @bugsbucky @book-dragon-13 @devynsdiary @eurynome827 @hiddles-rose @hailmary-yramliah @ikaris-whore @itsunclebucky @jhangelface0523 @jewelofwinter @jewels2876 @loricameback @littledarlinhavefaithinme @littleredstarfish @mushyjellybeans @marvelgirl7 @metal-armed-cuddly-dork @marvelandotherfandomimagines @nano--raptor @randomfandompenguin @nerdypinupcrystal @scarletsoldierrr @sallycanwait68 @softpeachbarnes @the-wayward-robot @when-the-hell-is-bucky @flyawaybaybay @throwmyheartawayagain​ @amandatar-06​ @nd1998sc​ @captainchrisstan​ @vherriepie​ @godofplumsandthunder​ @fire-flv​ @jamesbarnesappreciationclub​ @irishflutiegirl​ @rinthehufflepuff​ @moonybarnes​ @nordlysinthewoods​ @hawksmagnolia​

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes au #bookshop au #bucky barnes bookshop au #bartender!bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader fluf #bucky x reader fluff #bucky barnes fluff #bucky fluff #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x you #bucky bookshop au #first date #bartender!bucky #sebastian stan #top shelf #top shelf chapter 7

[writerbyaccident]

Admirer (Yandere Katsuki BakugouxReader: Aged Up to 18)

Trigger Warning: sexual harassment, lime content

           The notes had been something of a last-ditch idea. They definitely weren’t Bakugou’s style, that was for sure. If someone had told him just a year ago that he would be sending what were basically love letters, he would have laughed in their face before blowing them halfway to hell. But then Bakugou had met you. And then he had overheard you talking with Mina one day, admitting to raccoon-eyes that you had always loved the idea of getting notes from a secret admirer.

You had only just started attending UA, transferring there for your final year, and everyday Bakugou thanked whoever the hell had orchestrated it that you had been put into his class. Not that he felt that way at first. No, those first few days he simply viewed you as another obstacle to becoming the number one hero. But after watching you in class and in training, he was forced to admit that you were so much more than that. You were brave, brilliant, strong, fierce, and too many other things to list.

           The truth was—if he was being honest with himself—Bakugou loved you. He had loved you now for too long to count and loved you so much that his feelings seemed to wrap around his existence until it seemed that he had always loved you. You were like his missing piece, one that he always subconsciously knew was lost, one that he always subconsciously knew that he loved.

           But here was thing: Bakugou had never been in love before. What would have been the point before he met you? So yeah, he didn’t exactly have a lot of experience in this particular arena. When he happened to overhear you let it slip that you would love to get some sappy notes, he figured it was as good a place to start as any. Besides, Bakugou wasn’t an idiot. He knew that he wasn’t exactly the best at expressing those kinds of emotions, so maybe he’d be more successful in writing.

            He had started out small, just simple shreds of paper saying stuff like You’re fucking beautiful and You’re an amazing hero, before starting to show you the actual depths of his feelings for you. Bakugou would slip them into your locker on his way down to lunch, knowing that you would find them at the end of the day before you headed back to the dorms. He would never say it out loud, but he liked to imagine you reading them on your walk back, glancing down at his words every few seconds with a shy little smile. Goddammit, just imagining it made his cheeks redden and his pants tighten. Shaking his head roughly in a sloppy attempt to clear it, Bakugou turned back to the task at hand.

           The school day had ended, and the rest of class 3A had already left to return to their rooms. Having a question for Aizawa about an assignment, you told your friends to go ahead without you, which they had. Bakugou scowled when he remembered that, just because you told them to leave you behind didn’t mean they actually should have. He would have never just fucking left you behind like that! But admittedly, their leaving had given him this chance.

           Bakugou had been working on convincing himself to finally talk to you and reveal that he was the one putting notes in your locker, and this was the best chance he was going to get. No one else would be around and considering how much the shitheads of 3A loved to snoop, that was a necessity. The last thing Bakugou wanted was Mina or Deku overhearing what he wanted to say to you. So when you finally left the classroom, he gritted his teeth and peered around of the edge of the pillar he was hiding behind.

           Trying to keep himself from sighing or tapping his foot in impatience, Bakugou watched as you opened up your locker, unable to keep the smirk off of his face. He had left one last note for you today, figuring that it would be the best way to prime you for his confession, and he couldn’t wait to see the bashful grin on your face when you realized that your secret admirer was him. You probably would even know what to fucking say, he thought to himself as you found the note, quickly unfolding it to read what it said inside. But just before Bakugou could take a single step away for the pillar, he saw you crumple it up and throw it in trash.

           Slinging your backpack over your shoulder, you turned to leave, when you were suddenly spun around by a formidable but unseen grip. As you worked to keep yourself from losing your balance, you looked up with wide eyes to see Bakugou staring at you with furious eyes.

           “Shit, you almost gave me a heart attack,” you chuckled nervously.

           “Boo fucking hoo,” Bakugou growled back.

           “Oh, I’m sorry,” you responded with your eyebrows raised. “I didn’t realize that you hadn’t taken your nap today.”

           “You’re one to talk.”

           “What are you talking about?” you asked, exasperated with all the back and forth.

           “Who the hell throws a goddamn love letter in the trash?” he spat. Brows furrowed in confusion, you processed what Bakugou just said before trying to step out of his grip. He didn’t let go.

           “You—you’re the one who’s been writing those?”

           “Yeah,” he sneered. “Not that you fucking appreciated it.”

           “Of course I fucking didn’t! Those weren’t love letters, they were fucking crazy!”

           “You fucking—”

           “I mean, maybe they started out that way, but the last few weeks—god—‘You act so tough in training but I know that inside you’re just begging me to fuck you into submission.’ ‘If Kaminari looks at you one more time I’m gonna have to carve out his tongue.’ ‘You look so delicious, I might just have to break into your dorm tonight and have a taste’? I mean, how the hell could you write those things and think I’d like it? Don’t you realize how insane you’re acting?”

           “Insane?” Bakugou scoffed, gripping your wrist so tightly you worried for a moment that he might break it. “As far I can see babe, wanting what’s mine is the exact fucking opposite of insane.”

           “I am not yours,” you snarled.

Bakugou just rolled his eyes in annoyance at your stubbornness though. Clearly, writing to you hadn’t been the right approach here. You had completely missed the goddamn point, so it looked like he was just going to have to spell it out for you. That was fine by him though, Bakugou had always preferred actions to words. Without wasting one more fucking second trying explain the obvious to you, he wrapped his free arm around your waist, practically throwing you against the lockers before ambushing your lips with his. It was by no means a gentle kiss, but that much you could have expected. What you could not have expected though, was the way that his breaths swallowed yours, or the way his lips moved with a rhythm that sent your blood humming. Despite yourself, you found your eyes beginning to flutter shut as Bakugou tipped your head back to allow himself better access. His tongue slipping its way into your mouth, you allowed his tongue to twine with yours until the groan from deep with Bakugou’s core and the hardness pressing against your thighs brought you back.

“See?” he chuckled breathlessly once you had pulled away. “This is exactly where you belong. You might not admit it yet, but you know who you belong to.”

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#yandere bakugou katsuki x reader #yandere bakugou x reader #yandere bakugou katsuki #yandere katsuki bakugou x reader #yandere bakugou #yandere bakugo x reader #yandere katsuki x reader #yandere katsuki bakugou #yandere bakugo katsuki #yandere bakugo #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere story #yandere scenario #yandere reader insert #yandere self insert #yandere drabble #yandere drabbles #yandere imagines #yandere imagine #yandere fic #yandere fanfic #yandere fanfiction #yandere

[fletchphoenix]

Sweet As Sugar, Right As Rain

Chapter 3 of the Varigo Coffee Shop AU! Yay! Thanks so much for all the support I’ve been receiving on this fic, I’ve enjoyed writing it so so much! It’s just been amazing (considering this is my first time EVER writing a fic so aha, I really appreciate the support!) Enjoy! <3

Word Count : 3809

TW - Strong Language

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  Sunlight beamed through the windows, the rays penetrating the temporary shield of his curtains and straight into his eyes. Hugo let out a loud groan and raised his arm to shield his eyes from the blinding light, however his attempts were futile. He resorted to pulling the emerald sheets over his head with a groan. Birds outside had other plans however, singing and tweeting right outside his goddamn window to ensure he couldn’t go back to sleep. Hugo shoved the sheets back in frustration, kicking them off him and letting them fall into a bundle on the floor. “Note to self. Buy some shutters.” he muttered, propping himself up on his elbows and reaching out for his glasses on the bedside table. 

  As everything came into focus, he took a second to look into the mirror. “Holy fucking shit.” he complained. Blonde locks jutted out in every direction imaginable, sticking up unnaturally. “Okay then. Shower time.” he said to no one in particular, shuffling off his bed as it made a painfully loud creak once his weight left it. Squeaking and shuffling sounded from the cage across his room, catching his attention, and he glanced over. A smile quickly took over his face.

  “Olivia! Hey there girl.” he jogged over, sitting at his desk and opening the top drawer of his desk to take out a packet of sunflower seeds. He tipped a few out of the packet, examining them in his hand before placing them in the cage in front of her. She inhaled the seeds, chittering and scurrying around in the cage happily after her breakfast with an energy unlike any other he’d seen before.

  “Yeah, yeah. I get it. You’re excited. But I’ve gotta go get ready, sweetheart.” he muttered, moving to stand. He gave in to his urges at her pouty face (could mice even pout? He’d have to google it later) before reaching into her cage with his finger and running a finger over her smooth, golden fur. “Okay, NOW I’ve gotta go.” he told the mouse sternly, pushing the chair away from the desk and moving to his feet. Arms made their way above his head in a long stretch as he made his way through the tiny apartment to his bathroom. 

  He should be grateful, he thought, that Donella was kind enough to let him live alone, but god, this place was less than satisfactory. The window panes were cracked in their frames and never really shut properly - making winters like these with their incessant flurries of snow the worst in the world. Banging and screaming always sounded from above him, with his neighbours being possibly the most dysfunctional couple in the history of romance. The walls were paper thin too - he could hear whenever his frat-boy next door neighbour bought a girl round, dreading whenever he did, and he wasn’t even allowed to keep any real pets! It took MANY hours of seducing the landlord to be allowed to keep Olivia in the apartment with him. And don’t even get him started on the rip-off rent costs. Alas, it was home and he couldn’t bear to live with Donella again. She was a great woman, taking him in when he was young and supporting him, but she was terrible when it came to motherly duties and..it was pointless to expect that from her. 

  The bathroom wasn’t much to brag about, either. A lime mat covered most of the tiled floor with a heater barely peeking out under the mass of towels placed carelessly on top of it. Reaching out, he turned the handle and let the water run, so it could heat up gradually. He tapped his foot as we waited, checking his phone. 11:15am. Why did it feel like he was forgetting something? It was probably something Donella told him to do. She did that sometimes - springing plans onto him out of nowhere. As if he didn’t have a social life at all. So inconsiderate, he mumbled to himself. It didn’t matter anyway, the shower water already at the right temperature. He stripped out of his pyjamas and hopped in.

  After his shower, Hugo finished drying his hair, tied it up and quietly changed into a light yellow shirt, blue jeans and his signature green jacket. He loved that jacket dearly, it being one of the first gifts Donella ever got him that wasn’t second-hand. (“Your clothes look ratty,” she’d said, trying to suppress her soft smile with a hardened expression. “I got you new ones. Maybe now you’ll look even slightly presentable.”) At least she was trying, he’d told himself as he started to fix his hair in the mirror. 

  Once he was fully satisfied, he set his course for the kitchen. In the hall, he passed various framed posters on the walls along with newspapers and small sticky notes with his engineering questions noted down on them. (All green, of course, because what was he, a monster? He had an aesthetic to uphold and he was determined to do so, goddamnit!). Shelves also littered the wall - containing various books on topics like engineering, chemistry, biology and physics. Donella had given him them too, so he had something to read growing up and to entertain himself while she was away on her business trips with her friend, Ulla. Sure, she’d be gone weeks at a time, leaving Hugo with Cyrus to be taken care of, but at least he had someone there to take care of him.

  He trailed his hand to the doorknob and twisted it, pushing the door open and walking into the room. It was slightly bigger than the other rooms in the apartment - counters along the walls with a small table in the middle. A clock sat on the wall as well. 12:26pm. Why did it still feel like he was forgetting something? A string of curses left his mouth after he, in his distracted state, stubbed his toe on the chair, “Motherfucker! Ow!” he cried out and hopped awkwardly to the coffee machine which was, not surprisingly at all, fern green. 

  Hugo let the machine do its thing, taking the cup of absolute joy after it was done and adding some sugar. Black coffee was his saviour on a morning - especially after he’d had a party the night before. The bitter taste flooded his mouth and tickled his nose, him letting out a content sigh of happiness. This was it. The freedom he’d always wanted. He let the serenity of the moment relax the tension in his shoulders and allowed himself a moment where he could just be alone. 

  The moment was broken by a bleep on his phone.

  “For fuck’s sake..” Hugo muttered as he checked the time again. 12:47pm. Shit, had it really been that long? Oh well..not as if he had anything to do today. His eyes scanned over the text he had received. 

Cyrus : Hey bud. Have a good time on your date today. Remember - Donella needs you at the workshop by 17:00. Don’t be late.

  Shit.

  He’d forgotten. How had he forgotten he was meeting up with Varian? He was such an idiot! He’d scored a date with the most handsome boy on the planet and somehow he’d forgotten! In his panic, Hugo tipped the coffee down the sink and rushed to the door...stubbing his toe again and slipping over. “FUCKING CHAIR!” he yelled and scrambled to his feet, scurrying and sitting on a step to lace up his shoe. His wallet and keys sat on the table by the door, his hand hurriedly scooping them up, shoving them into his pocket and racing out the door.

  Lungs gasped for air and burned as he sprinted down the street, dodging people on his journey to the coffee shop. The sun shining in the sky was deceiving, the bitter winter air biting at the back of his neck. He should’ve bought a scarf. It was too goddamn cold out here - the December airs howling past his ears. He should’ve bought his headphones too. Oh god, he hoped Varian hadn’t bailed on him. 

  He fell through the doorway, gulping at the stares he received as he made his way through the people in the shop in search of one boy in particular with the beautiful blue streak in his raven hair. He stuttered apologies before his eyes found what he was looking for. Making his way over, he began to apologise. “Hey hairstripe, sorry I’m late. I was-”. His words died out as he made his way closer.

  There, in the same booth as before, sat perfection in its finest form. Varian. His azure eyes were focused outside, gazing and half lidded but looking at nothing in particular. His ebony hair blew slightly in the slight breeze created by the fan in the shop, with the blue streaks sticking out against it. Freckled skin had a slight shine to it from the sun’s rays that provided perfect lighting and bringing out his soft features. His cyan sweater complimented the rest of his outfit, the headphones hanging around his neck matching the colour of his sneakers. It was like a movie scene - absolutely perfect. His mouth felt dry as the boy turned his head and gave him an excited smile and Hugo could swear he felt his heart skip a beat at the sight of it. 

  “Hugh! Hey!” Varian said, waving his hand and watching Hugo as he moved to sit in the booth opposite him. “It’s fine, you don’t need to apologise. I got here early anyway so I was just listening to some music.” he added onto the end, leaning against the table with a grin on his face. “Love the jacket by the way, really compliments the shirt.” 

  “I-thank you. I could say the same for you though. That sweater really brings out your eyes. And your hair.” he reached out his hand, running the strands between his fingers before pulling his hand away. He let out a chuckle at the sight of Varian’s flushed face, eyes fixated on the younger male as he tucked his hair behind his ear and fiddled with the hem of his shirt stuttering out explanations. “Hairstripe, calm down. It’s just a compliment. Anyway, what do you want? The drink is on me.” 

  “Oh, um -a vanilla latte again. Please.”

  “Don’t miss me too much.” he grinned with a smug expression, laughing when Varian pushed him playfully before walking off to order. He let out a content sigh and glanced back at Varian as he ordered their drinks. The boy in question was playing with his hair as he read a chemistry textbook that he must’ve placed on the table when he left. He looked so beautiful, just sitting there without a care in the world. Hugo could just watch him forever, a red tint starting to build on the tips of his ears and cheeks as he realised just how long he’d been staring. He tore his eyes away from the breathtaking boy near the window and brought his attention back to the barista.

  “Vanilla latte and black coffee for Hugo?” the chestnut haired girl questioned, placing the drinks on the side and allowing Hugo to pick them up. He nodded graciously, flashing her a smile before returning to his seat. Leaving a $5 tip in the jar on the way, he sauntered back to the table with the drinks in hand and a smile on his face. 

  “Lord Varian, your drink has been served by your humble servant. I am forever in your debt.” he laughed and sat down opposite the boy again as he pulled his drink close to his chest and took a sip. Hugo looked out of the window with a smile, eyeing the people walking past in the freezing weather, holding hands with their loved ones and cuddling them close to ward back the December breeze. He wished he could do that with a certain obsidian haired boy sitting across from him reading a chemistry textbook like the adorable nerd he was. “So. How’s your week been? I saw you were in the library yesterday. You did look great by the way.” He smirked and winked in his direction.

  “Oh! It's been fine, Hugh. I do tutoring with Nuru on Wednesdays. We look after the sweetest boy in the world called Yong. He’s seriously the smartest kid I’ve ever met, but he gets so nervous to show it, y’know? And Nuru...god, she’s an amazing girl! Intelligent, yes, but just so mature and caring towards everyone! She’s a sweetheart really. How about you? Why were you there yesterday?” Varian asked quizzically, giving Hugo a little head tilt that made his heart soar. Fuck, he loved this boy. 

  “Me? Oh well, I was just picking up some books and doing some studying. I have an essay due in a few weeks and I just needed to look up some things.” he lied through his teeth. It was TOTALLY not because he wanted to see the other teen again before their date. Nope. No way. Nuh-uh. 

  “If you want me to, I could help you with your-”

  “NO!” He yelled out, leaning forward against the table before flushing red and moving back into his seat, composing himself and tapping his leg rapidly to calm himself down. “I’m sorry, I uh-I think I’ll be fine on my own. Thanks for the offer though.” he chuckled awkwardly, letting out an exasperated sigh. “Sorry...I’m just really awkward.” he apologised, sliding back in his chair and covering his face with his hands. Great. Perfect. Absolutely swell. He’s just embarrassed himself in front of the boy of his dreams like an absolute idiot. If whatever god there was could just strike him dead right now, that would be fan-fucking-tastic-

  A giggle followed by laughter and snorts broke him out of his spiral of self hatred. Varian’s hands wrapped around his wrists and gently lowered them, the most loving smile Hugo had ever seen plastered on his face as he dealt with the aftershocks of his laughing fit. “It’s okay. It was cute.” the boy commented, Hugo’s face twisting into a smile as well before joining him in his fit of laughter. 

  They must’ve looked like a strange pair - two boys laughing so hard they were in tears at a coffee shop in the middle of December, but neither of them cared. They were happy and that was all that mattered. Both took a sip from their coffees as they kept their eyes locked on each other. “Yep.” Varian thought, “Coffee does taste better when I’m drinking it with Hugo.” he concluded. He shuffled over in his booth, allowing Hugo to slide in beside him and look at the textbook to help with his questions. 

  Hugo tried his hardest to ignore how close Varian was, but after a few hours it became harder and harder to focus, with their shoulders pressed against each other and leaning forward with their eyes fixated on the book. A deep red flush developed on his cheeks yet again. Any closer and they’d be…Hugo tried not to focus on that, his gaze directing to Varian’s hand. He slowly and shakily took the younger’s hand in his own.

  Hugo turned his head to look at Varian, the younger boy coincidentally doing the same thing at the same time. Their noses almost touched, but both of them were too lost in the moment to bother pointing out the awkwardness of the situation, with Hugo intertwining their fingers under the table. “Hugo?” the younger whispered. Hugo could feel the tantalizing breath on his lips, intermingling with his own. Just a little closer. He tilted his head, leaning in and..

 His phone rang.

  Hugo snapped back to reality and moved away from Varian, letting go of his hand, much to both boy’s disappointment, and picked up his phone to answer it. “Hello?”

  “Hugo.” Donella’s rough voice replied, and boy howdy, did she sound pissed off. He was in trouble for sure this time. “It's 5pm. Where the hell are you.” she growled through the phone.

  “Shit, Donella I’m sorry. I forgot all about the time. I’ll start heading over now, I promise-”

  “Hurry up then.” she commented before hanging up, leaving no time for discussion. Hugo turned to see Varian - the hurt on his face wounding Hugo’s heart. A kicked puppy would probably look less hurt than the boy did in that moment. And he put that look on his face. He really was the worst wasn’t he? 

  “Hey-write down your address. I’ll pick you up at 5 next Thursday-” he began to say, Varian’s face twisting in confusion before grabbing a napkin and handing it to Hugo. “Alright, I’m sorry to cut this short.” he sighed and gathered his things together. Hugo turned to leave, before he felt a hand grab his wrist and a kiss was placed on his cheek. 

  “Thank you.” Varian looked at the floor, his face flushed red however a smile was still evident on it. Hugo’s mouth felt dry yet again as he froze for a second, a now all too familiar heat covering his face. He nodded in response and headed out the store, where he immediately leant against the wall and placed a hand on his cheek. 

  “Holy fucking shit..” he whispered to himself. “I’m in love with Varian Ruddiger.” He let himself get lost in the moment before another bleep reminded him of where he had to be. Shit. He started sprinting down the street, his path illuminated by streetlights as he passed them with a smile on his face. Well…

Next week was gonna be interesting.

  He opened the door to the workshop Donella ran, passing her henchmen as if they weren’t threatening at all. They fixed their glares onto him - okay yep, he was definitely in trouble for being late. He pushed open the doors, putting on his smug facade as he made his way to Donella’s desk. “Hey Donella, I’m here.” he declared, placing his hands on the desk and leaning against it. “You needed me?”

  “Yes, I did.” she frowned at him and gave him her infamous death stare. He cowered back slightly before regaining his composure again. “I trust this won’t happen again..?” she questioned, a slight smile tugging on her lips at the frantic nod he gave. “Good. Now get to work. We have an important client who requested specifically for you to make his product so..get to it.” 

  He hurriedly left her office, heading to his workspace and pulling on his goggles and gloves. Sheesh, that woman could seem evil sometimes - he bet in her past life, she was probably a supervillain. Maybe in an alternate universe, she was. He let out a breathy chuckle, glancing over the blueprints. Hm. Looked difficult, but he could do it. He set the paper aside and began to work, the incident from the coffee shop still playing on his mind. 

He couldn’t wait to see Varian again.

  Meanwhile, Varian packed his things again and began his walk home. Was Hugo about to...kiss him? Did he seriously feel the same as he did? It made him feel giddy just thinking about the way Hugo’s cold hands felt against his warm ones, the closeness that made his heart pound and ache for more contact, the way Hugo leaned in and tilted his head...wow. Hugo liked him. And he liked Hugo. 

  He pushed open his door and, once again, fed Ruddiger before heading up to his room. The cat purred gratefully and ate before following his master, lounging across his bed as if he owned the place. The audacity of the fat bastard! “Sometimes I wonder why I feed you.” Varian wondered aloud, grinning as the cat meowed back and swatted V’s hand as he tried to pet him. “Ow! Okay! Geez, I get it!” he laughed before reaching over and grabbing his phone to see some texts from Hugo.

Hugo : Sorry for leaving so early, short stuff

Hugo : My mom needed me for something and I completely forgot

Hugo : But hey, next week you’ll have me all to yourself ;)))

  Varian scoffed and looked at Ruddiger, who he swore had a disgusted expression as he read the phone screen. “I know Ruddiger. Absolutely disgraceful, isn’t it?” He chuckled, but..deep down he knew he wasn’t opposed to the idea of having Hugo all to himself...He shut that idea down fast, typing out a sarcastic response as he tried (and massively failed) to feign annoyance.

Varian : You wish I’d want that, you twerp

Hugo : Oh I don’t wish, I know ;)

Hugo : also, V? 

Varian : What is it now, Hugh?

Hugo : Thanks for the kiss. Didn’t get the chance to say that earlier but..thanks

Hugo : Anyway, I’ve gotta go. Mom wants me.

Hugo : See you next week, sweetie <3

Varian : No problem, Hugo. See you next week =)

  Varian set his phone aside and sat up. He completely forgot. He kissed Hugo’s cheek. Oh god, please don’t make it awkward, he internally begged. He didn’t want things to become weird between them. He really...really liked Hugo and just didn’t wanna mess this one up. He changed into his PJ’s and shuffled under the covers, reading through their conversations.

  “Goodnight Ruddiger..” he muttered as he turned off the lights and closed his eyes, trying to drift off to sleep. He sighed in frustration and brought out his phone, turning it on quietly and typing out 3 words. 

Varian : I Love You

  His lips twitched into a frown as he stared at those 3 words. They held so much weight - had the power to change the course of his and Hugo’s relationship as soon as he sent them. He thought back to their meeting. Was he just being friendly? Did he just get distracted? Did Hugo actually like him? A hand reached up to run through his hair. What if he was just misreading the signs? 

  What if Hugo found out? What if he found out about all the terrible things Hugo had done? The people he hurt? How badly he messed up? Varian bit his lip so harshly the metallic taste of blood flooded into his mouth. Hugo would never love someone like that. Someone who did everything that he did. Tears he didn’t even know had developed fell onto his phone screen, to his surprise. He quietly set it down and wiped his eyes. Not tonight, he thought.

  Varian held his finger down, erasing the text and setting his phone aside. He tucked his knees into his chest and looked at the wall. He had to tell him one day. Not now, but one day. He slowly started to drift to sleep, the thought of their date still fresh in his mind and the remnants of a smile on his face.

#varigo #varian x hugo #varian and the seven kingdoms #tangled varian #varian tangled #hugo tangled #tangled hugo #alchemy boyfriends #varigo coffee shop au

[poisxnyouth]

bad influence dave part 2 (d.d)

A/N: i’m sorry this is so short ): i think it’s a vibe tho. enjoy. talk to me while you read & let me know what you think. love u. thank u for reading. grateful for y’allllllll

WC: 5.1k

You see David again a week after you give him your first handjob, and it’s almost embarrassing how much you’ve begun texting each other – about anything and everything. He texts you on his lunch breaks, when he gets off of work, when he’s going into work, when he’s bored, before he goes to sleep – you name it. You text him when work is slow, in the middle of church, during the weekly family dinner at your parents’, anytime — constantly attempting to see each other. 

 At noon, David texts you while you’re about to go on lunch break, usually an uneventful hour:

 It’s so slow rn. Come see me whenever you go on break. Pls. I’m losing my mind. This old woman won’t stop hitting on me. All she wants are mimosas.

 Of course, you tell him you will. Why sit in the break room and waste your own time when you can go see him? 

 He had mentioned to you in passing where he bartends; a few streets up and over, but not too far – speed walking distance if you wanted to see him for longer than thirty minutes. 

 You make it as quickly as you can, composing yourself before opening the door. As soon as David gains sight of you, the look on his face indicates you saved him from a bartender’s Hell. He fakes an excuse to the woman, the only other person in the bar, to come speak with you. He leans against it when he’s in front of you, eyes on yours.

 “Hi, baby. Do I need to card you?” he asks, watching the familiar blush spread across your cheeks, “It’s so good to see you. What are you drinking?”

 “I’m still working!” you excuse, bitching him out playfully, “Nothing!” 

 “That’s no fun,” he rolls his eyes, “It’s on me. What do you want? Actually, don’t answer that. I’ll pick.” 

 “By the way, that’s what you wear to work?” David questions, looking you up and down approvingly as he pours a shot for you, “Sexy.” 

 “If I take a shot, you have to take a shot, too,” you bargain with him, ignoring his comment as you blush even more, “We’re both working!”

 “The only way I can drink on the job is if you buy it for me,” he explains, looking around the room and the older woman, “buuuut...is anyone looking? And I’m not the lightweight here, remember?” he chuckles, “Miss Two Drinks and I’m Drunk.”

 You flush as he places your glass on the bar, “It’s tequila. Salt on the back of your hand, honey.” 

 “I know how to do a shot of tequila,” you gripe, eyes rolling as you lick the back of your hand, “Just ‘cause I’m a virgin doesn't mean-”

 “Okay,” he shrugs rudely, not caring about your defense, “Just do the shot, baby. Cheers.”

 “Cheers.”

 You clink your glasses and David’s eyes follow your tongue when you dump some salt on top of the wet skin. You lick at it, meeting his eyes and downing it. You reach for the lime and suck on it as he finishes his, taking your glass from you.

 “When can I see you again?” you ask, gazing at him as he leans against the counter, “I’m off at five.” 

 “I’m off at six. You wanna go dealing with me tonight? I need some company, and we can go back to my place afterwards,” he questions, eyes on yours, “You can weigh everybody’s shit for me and split it up.” 

 “Okay,” you agree, slightly excited at the prospect, “Do you want me to come back here when I get off?” 

 “Yes,” David replies, “I’m getting you high afterwards, though. Don’t say no. I’ll give you, like, the whole experience. Are you working tomorrow?”

 You shake your head, blushing, before he responds, “Great. Me either, so you’re spending the night.” 

 You gape at him, “I don’t have my stuff-”

 “I’ll take you by your place beforehand,” David offers, shoving his hands in his pockets, “Stop stressing, baby.”

 You sigh, hating how many hearts are filling your eyes as you gaze at him and hating that you have to leave, “Okay. I have to go. I’ll see you in a few.”

 He tells you to wait, slipping out from behind the bar and leaning his head down, kissing you. “Okay. You can go now. I’ll see you later. Wish me luck with that one over there.” 

 ++

 Five-thirty seems to be around the time the bar is getting busier due to everyone getting off of work, and the stress on David’s face is evident. He hasn't even noticed your arrival yet, attempting to keep polite conversation with his customers. 

 Six rolls around and he’s immediately clocking out, gruffly wishing his coworker good luck and making his way over to you, “Sorry, sweetheart. Fucking busy tonight. Let’s get out of here.” 

 You do, and David’s immediately lighting a cigarette and unbuttoning his black dress shirt as soon as you step outside. He had rolled the sleeves up since you last saw him, and he slips the garment off while his cigarettes and lighter are still in his hands and out of his breast pocket. 

 His black t-shirt remains, tucked into his slacks which are secured with a belt. He’s guiding you to his car silently for a few minutes, tossing out his cigarette before unlocking the vehicle and climbing in. 

 “I gotta shower before I do anything else,” David tells you, starting the car and pulling out of his spot, “It’s been like that in there since three. I’ve been sweating like a bitch; I feel disgusting.” He casually rests his free hand on the inside of your thigh as he drives, leading the small talk – as he always does. 

 David doesn’t mind being the talkative one; he likes bringing up subjects that are taboo to you, watching you refuse to meet his eyes and blush as he presses the topic, becoming more detailed as he speaks. 

 He usually goes until you tell him to stop, reacting with an affectionate rub at the skin of your thighs, “Sorry, baby, you know I like seeing you get all worked up and not know what to do about it.”

 Once at his place, he quickly showers and changes while you patiently wait on him. It takes him ten minutes, tops, before he’s ready to go. 

 “Alright,” David says casually, grabbing his keys and motioning to his bedroom door, “Come here, follow me. My roommates and I all deal at least a little bit — I’m the best one of all of us — so this is where we keep our shit.” He takes you into another bedroom, turning the lights on and pulling out his phone.

 “Okay, baby,” he sighs, “This is the part that sucks. We gotta go through what everyone wants and weigh this shit. I don’t like weighing as we go. It’s time consuming. It’s gonna take some time. Let me explain how this works. Hand me that bag.” 

 You do, grabbing it and passing it to him, “So, I’ve got a pretty big amount of this shit – for Chicago, at least. I buy from a guy who grows in Iowa, so I can get his bud for cheap and sell it for good cash here. Weed’s legal now, so it’s kind of fucking me up, but kids eighteen to twenty-one can’t buy, so they’re who I sell to the most. I don’t sell to minors — obviously.” 

 He continues, “This is a pound, and it’s the best weed I’ve had in a while. Here, in Chicago, this is worth two thousand.” 

 “Dollars?”

 “Yeah,” he laughs slightly, “I buy it for half that, but the most people usually buy at a time from me is an ounce. I go see him like, once a month? It depends on how much people are buying. It’s a long fucking trip and I always have to do it in one day because of work – maybe you can come with me next time I have to go.”

 “Anyway,” he sighs as you try to not think about how much money he must be making under the table, “We gotta do this, baby. Here’s the list of people and how much they want.” 

 Admittedly, he does all of the work, but talks you through the process and answers your questions. He weighs the weed and puts them in plastic bags according to size, writing their name and amount in Sharpie on the front.

 You get to a certain guy named Luke, and David reacts, “Oh, fuck Luke. He doesn't get the good shit and never will – I hate his stupid ass. I have a whole stash of shitty weed for him in the cabinet right there.”

 David weighs Luke’s weed and describes why it’s shitty and how you can tell, bitching about the kid, “He’s a fucking idiot, though. I overcharge him for terrible weed, and I get texts from him saying how good it is. It takes, like, an entire eighth to feel anything. He’s a rich white nineteen-year-old, so I don’t really feel bad about it.”’

 “So, how much will you make tonight?” you ask as he puts it all in one bag, sighing and doing the math in his head.

 “Fuck, I don’t know – six hundred? Six fifty? Maybe seven at the most? We can count it when we’re done,” he shrugs, “Let’s get going; it’s getting late. This is my favorite part.” 

 David goes down the list in his notes and calls them on speaker phone as he drives, script usually sounding the same for every person: “Hey, man. Do you want me to pull up or meet you somewhere? I can do either one.”

 Before he meets his first guy, David reaches over and gently tucks your crucifix into your shirt, slightly rubbing at it over your blouse affectionately, “Druggies are atheist shitheads. They’ll talk about it if they notice it. Keep it there until we’re done. I’m sorry.” 

 It’s too hot seeing him get out of his car, weed in the palm of his hand as he daps his customer up and sneakily slides the cash into his pocket before bidding them a polite farewell, keeping the conversation short. 

He has to make about fifteen stops before he’s completely done for the night; some of them ask about you, wondering your name and age, before David defends you, “Alright, bruh, just pay me. Stop hitting on my girl.” 

 After every time he says it, he feels the need to immediately apologize once you’re alone again: “Sorry again. I know you’re not my girl, but I know you don't want them trying to talk to you. It’s just easier to say you are. They’re not going to fuck with their dealer’s girlfriend – especially since you go to the parties, too.” 

 David’s parked outside of your apartment building as he quickly begins counting how much money he made, murmuring under his breath as his thumbs do all of the movement. He counts it in under ten seconds, passing the stack of cash to you, “Seven thirty-five. I was close – sold a little more. We didn't even sell that much, honestly.” 

 “Count it again,” you tell him, “I want to see that again.” 

 He chuckles, eyes glancing between you and the cash, biting at his lips as he quickly counts it again, “Seven thirty-five, baby.” 

 “Hot.”

 David laughs at you and stuffs the cash into the pocket of his shorts, “Let’s get your shit and go home, honey.” 

 It's his first time visiting your place, and he expects it to be littered with misplaced Bible references and at least semi-unorganized, but it's not: you’re as organized as he is and oddly, there’s no clear evidence of your beliefs – something which surprises the shit out of him for someone who wears a cross around their neck every single day. 

 He keeps his eyes mostly to himself as you rifle through your belongings in your room, glancing at your walls and around your living room.

 “Jesus, sweetheart, how long are you planning on staying?” He motions towards your bag once you come out, watching your eyes widen.

 “I mean...you’re saying could stay longer than tonight?” you suggest, bargaining, “Two nights. I’m off the next two days.”

 “Fine,” he gives in, eyes rolling and giggling at you slightly, “I work the day after next, but you can stay as long as you want to, baby. You’re always welcome.”  David takes a step towards you, kissing you quickly, “Put your clothes back. You’re gonna be wearing mine.”

 “No,” you resist, his hands coming to your waist, “Those are yours.” 

 “Put them back,” he repeats, kissing you, “Don’t make me tell you again.” 

 “Ugh,” you groan, listening to him and doing as you’re told – you love when he tells you what to do, and he knows it. It’s his favorite button to push. 

 You return to him, and his fingers gently tug the chain of your necklace out of your shirt, fixing it so the clasp sits at the nape of your neck. “Better. It feels wrong to see you without it.”

 ++

 David’s two roommates are home, now, and he briefly speaks with them with you standing at his side, his arm shamelessly thrown around your shoulders. 

 “Dave,” one of them calls out, “Come here. Dude. Ester called the house. Call her back.” 

 “What?” he replies, “Why the house? She has my number. Fuck, okay.” 

 You don't know who Ester is, and David sits on the couch, tugging you into his lap in front of them as he pulls his phone out. His roommates don’t seem to be paying you any mind as they watch TV and smoke, and you wonder how many other girls he’s brought home. 

 “Bro, she didn't even call my phone,” he states, rolling his eyes, “I didn't think she did. Me and Y/N were just out delivering for, like, two hours.” 

 “Oh, shit!” the other one exclaims, “You’re Y/N? Sick. Nice to meet you.”

 “Sorry, baby,” David apologizes quickly, dialing Ester and introducing you, “Dima. Ilya. Both are idiots and shitty dealers–”

 “Heeeey, Ester!” David’s tone changes immediately, “What’s up? Why’d you call the house and not me? Is something wrong?”

 You hear a voice on the other line, his arm draped around your waist as he listens, eyes rolling back, “No, Ester, I can't help you with your Precalc homework. I’m sorry, kid. You know that I took idiot classes in high school. You’ve always been smarter than me. Ask Dad! Or, better yet, why don't you just look it up?” 

 David shuffles slightly with you in his lap and lights a cig, letting you rest your head in his neck, “I’m sorry I can’t help you, honey. You know that I miss you. I want to come up next Friday...I’ll be off. Will everyone be home?” 

 It’s now obvious that he’s speaking to his sister as he listens to her chatter, absentmindedly rubbing at your back, his leg bouncing up and down, “Okay. I’ll be there. I promise. Tell Ma that I’m coming. I love you, Es. You know you can call me whenever. You’re my best friend.”

 He hangs up shortly afterwards, taking a drag from his cigarette and sighing, “Christ. Vernon Hills next week, you guys. It’s official. You fuckers are coming with me, so make sure you’re off,” David demands, motioning towards Dima and Ilya. 

 “Whatever,” he continues, standing and putting his cigarette out, pulling you with him, “We’ll be upstairs. Leave us alone – she’s staying the night and I’m off tomorrow.” 

 David daps both of them up, before Ilya speaks, “Sick. Have fun. Goodnight, bro.” 

 David quickly tells you to ignore him and leads you up to his room, shutting the door behind you. The first thing he does is rifle through his drawers, tossing clothes at you. He’s surprised at how quickly you react, requesting that he unzip the back of your dress.

 He does, slowly, pushing your hair away from your neck and patting your waist politely before removing his touch. You pull on his smallest pair of sweats, still having to tighten the draw string around your hips and slipping on one of his t-shirts. 

 You’re not sure why it feels so easy to be intimate with him in ways you never could with anyone else while only knowing of him for a few weeks; maybe it's how nonchalant he is, or how unabashed he is. Nothing is too embarrassing or unbearable for him, and it rubs off on you. 

 David’s polite, and doesn't judge you over things you’re ignorant about; he’s happy to explain and guide you if you want to know about what he does, and he fucks heavily with your eagerness to please him and learn. 

 He doesn't know if this will turn into casual hook ups or something more, he’s going to leave that up to you, but he enjoys your company and bashfulness. It makes his dick hard. 

 David casually makes out with you on his bed, hands to himself and not grabby, before pulling away and asking, “You wanna smoke?” 

 “Sure,” you reply, sitting up with him. He digs through his bedside table, muttering, “I’m gonna teach you how to roll. It takes a little bit of practice, I guess. I don’t know – I’ve been doing it for so long, I don't even pay attention anymore. Hand me that tray.” 

 You lie down on your stomach, facing him as he sits cross legged on his still-made bed. He breaks open a pack of Berry Dutch cigarillos with his teeth, "So, the first step is to split it. Some people can crack a blunt with just their hands. I can't. I need a blade for it." He grabs a razor blade from the tray before sliding the edge of the blade down the middle of the blunt precisely.

 "You want it to be a spliff or a blunt? You pick, I don't care," he asks you, watching your clueless features, clarifying, "A spliff has tobacco still mixed in with the weed, and a blunt is straight weed.”

 “Um,” you shrug, meeting his eyes, “Blunt, I guess.”

 "Okay," he replies, dumping tobacco onto the tray, "Scrape out the tobacco. I’ll clean it up later."

 David grabs his weed and his grinder, "Grind your weed down into shake – it takes, like, a gram or a gram and a half to fill up a blunt." He stuffs the grinder and closes it, twisting it and tapping the top.

 “I don't smoke what I sell,” he explains, “My personal stuff is from one of my buddies in Vernon Hills.”

 “Oh,” you reply confusedly, “Why not?”

 “‘Cause Biggie said not to,” David shrugs, quoting, “‘Rule Number Four: I know you heard this before, ‘Never get high on your own supply.’ You know, like, Scarface?” 

 “...What are the other rules?” You ask, not getting it.

 He chuckles, scoffing slightly, “Later, babe.”

 “Anyway,” he says, getting back to the subject, “Some people put in a filter at the front, but...I don't have time for that. I’m too impatient for it," he explains, "Hold the blunt wrap and dump it, but make it even."

 He spreads out the shake into the blunt while flattening it against the tray, folding the seams over each other, "Roll."

 "You lick," he demands, leaning down and holding up the edge for you to lick, "Along the line. Not too much, though. Just enough."

 You obey and he watches your tongue, making a soft noise at the sight, "Goooood. Now, we stick it."

 David sticks the seams together, folding and pressing them together, "Okay, now you bake it, baby."

 He fumbles for his lighter, a fancy refillable Zippo, flipping it open and running it over the sides to ensure they stay conjoined. He puts it between his lips, lighting it and blowing out the flame at the end.

 David hits it, placing the tray on the floor by his bed, passing it to you, “Done. It’s pretty easy, just remember: split, empty, grind, stuff, roll, lick, stick, and bake.” 

 You get better at hitting it by yourself every time you smoke with him, exhaling easily as you scoot over to him. You pass it back to David as he lies against his headboard, tugging you into his chest and placing his hand on your waist. 

 “David,” you say after a few minutes of passing it back and forth, him grunting out a Hmm? a response, “Um. You asked me last week what I like. I don't know, but what do you like?” 

 “I’m not telling you yet,” he stifles a laugh, moving to put the roach out in an ashtray on his nightstand, “‘Cause I don't want you to like something just ‘cause I do. You wanna find out what you like?” 

 “Yeah,” you nod, blushing, “For you.” 

 “Okay,” he gives in, shrugging, “Can I touch you?” 

 You nod as he sits up and stands from the bed, “Whatever you wanna do. Go ahead.” 

 David tells you to stay where you are, rubbing at his eyes and grabbing his laptop, tossing it on his bed in front of you, “We’re gonna watch porn. Take the sweats off.” 

 “Wait-,” you say nervously, chewing at your lips, “Nevermind. Okay.” You obey him, untying the string and pushing the garment past your hips, already nervous. 

 “Don’t get anxious, baby,” David reassures as he climbs into bed with you again, “I’ve got you – this is just the easiest way to find out. Sit between my legs.” 

 He leans his head over your shoulder and logs into PornHub, wrapping one of his arms around your torso comfortingly as he feels you already blush against him. You’re visibly mortified as he clicks a video in his recommended tab, his free hand coming to palm you over your underwear. 

 You make a slight noise before he hushes you quietly, “Watch. Don’t touch yourself.” 

 David doesn't move his hand as he reads your body language, not watching the video at all as you buck up into his touch. “You like that or you like me touching you?” 

 “You,” you reply, clearing your throat and repeating yourself, “You.”

 “Stop thinking about me being here,” he advises, voice gruff behind you, “Think about me doing the things to you that they’re doing. Think how you would if I wasn't here. Got it?”

 You nod against him, eyes on the screen as he holds you close to him, your back pressed against his torso. Your breath becomes heavy as you watch the man eat the woman out and finger her, wanting it to be you and David. Your pussy must be thinking the same thing you are as you involuntarily twitch and clench against his touch.

 David murmurs in approval, “Good. Just like that, baby.” 

 He switches to another video, a deep throatfuck, and watches your face as the woman gags around her partner – lips parted and breathing heavily. Again, you want it to be you and David, but you tell him this time, cheeks red: “I wanna be able to do that for you.” 

 “We can work up to that,” he presses a sloppy kiss to your neck, “I like that too.” 

 “That’s enough of that for now,” David says, reaching forward and shutting the computer, “We can do it again tomorrow. We’re not done – I want to touch you.” 

 He breathes over your shoulder, muttering and tugging at the waistband of your underwear, “But can you take these off for me?” 

 You do, slipping them down your thighs and legs before he moves from behind you. David props you against the pillows, where he was, and lies on his stomach between your legs, scooting himself closer.

 “Jesus fucking Christ,” he comments as his eyes land on your pussy, gasping softly and glancing back up at you, “Can I touch you?” 

 You say a quiet yeah before his fingers are spreading your pussy apart delicately with one hand, the other arm wrapping around one of your thighs. He places his free hand on top of your stomach affectionately, eyes flitting between you and your pussy. 

 “Oh, God,” David says to himself, fingertips running over your folds and collecting your slick. You’re so wet he can hear every move his fingers take, and David takes it upon himself to press kisses up along the inside of your thigh, meeting your eyes and watching your face as he slips his middle finger inside of you.

 There's so much resistance that, even with your wetness, he can barely get it inside of you. He watches your mouth drop open silently in response, before he speaks, “Holy fuck. I don't know what I was expecting, but you’re so tight.”

 “If it hurts at any point, tell me,” he advises, moving his arm from around you to spread you apart again, still in disbelief at the sight, “Fuck me.”

 You’re embarrassed as he spits on you for more lube, spreading it around and rubbing it in before trying to move his finger again. You gasp as he hits the knuckle and he glances up at you quickly, not saying anything – he knows the difference between a good and a bad gasp.

 “Jesus,” David advises, pulling his finger out slowly and spreading you apart, “I can literally see your…”

 He cuts himself off and trails, not wanting to finish his sentence, moving from between your legs and into his nightstand. You make a noise before he hushes you, “Shh. Give me a sec. I’m not done. This’ll make it easier.” 

 He grabs lube and settles between your thighs once more, putting some on his fingers and beginning to touch you, “It doesn't even look like you touch yourself.” 

 “I don’t,” you admit, embarrassed as he gapes at you slightly.

 “Oh, my God,” he says simply, slipping his middle finger in easier this time, “So you’ve never cum?” 

 You shake your head and he exhales sharply, beginning to move it in and out, “I’ve got you, baby. Don’t be nervous.” 

 “Relax, babygirl. You’re too tense right now – even with the weed,” he comments, still working, “Stop thinking so much.” 

 You sigh and nod, trying to relax yourself, but it doesn't work, and David pulls away entirely, “Now’s not a good time.” 

 “What? Yes-” you attempt to reply before he cuts you off, shaking his head.

 “No. It’s not,” he moves to lie next to you as you slip the sweats back on, kissing your forehead, “It’s okay. It’s not a bad thing, I promise. You’re just super in your head right now. We can try again later.” 

 “Ugh, I just want to be able to-”

 “I know,” he replies, moving to light a cigarette, “I know, honey. We’re both high, though – maybe when we’re sober.” 

 You move to rest your head in his neck as he gazes at the ceiling, “Your pussy is so nice, no cap.” 

 “It is?”

 “Hell yes,” he says confidently, “Ugh. Wow. I’m gonna have dreams about that one tonight.” 

 “David...” you trail nervously, anxious to ask your question, “Can I ask you something? How many girls have you been with?”

 “Honestly, sweetheart,” he replies with ease, still nonchalant about something so personal, “I don't know anymore. I don’t keep track. Maybe thirty? I don't even remember most of their names. If you’re asking because of, like, STDs - you don’t gotta worry about anything. I’m clean.” 

 “That’s not why I was asking,” you clarify, getting the guts to take his cigarette from him and taking a drag, easily now, “I wasn’t worrying about that, but literally, like...how?” 

 He shrugs as you pass the Camel back to him, “You’re a nice girl, baby. I’m not nice. That’s how.”

 Your eyebrows scrunch together as you move to look at him, “You are nice, though.” 

 David scoffs, “Honey, I’m a drug dealer. Just because I’m a good man doesn’t mean I’m nice.”

 “Yeah, but...you’re nice to me? You don’t even have to be. You could be mean and I’d still want to have sex with you and stuff.” You’re still confused as he takes a final drag and puts out his cigarette, tugging you closer.

 “You saying that is exactly why I’m not a nice guy,” he promises, “Because you don’t even have to tell me that. I know you would.” 

 You don’t understand at all and you sigh against him, David continuing, “I know that I’m nice to you, baby, but that’s because I like you. Why are you even picking me to do this with?”

 You roll to settle on top of him, looking up at him, “I don’t really know. I just trust you. Don’t deflect...You like me? I thought you just wanted to fuck me once and leave.”

 “Ew, it’s so weird hearing you curse,” David reacts, nose scrunching up, “Yeah, I like you. No shame in it.”

 He pushes your hair out of your face and licks his lips as he watches you blush at his words, replying, “I like you, too.”

 “Yeah?” he says, “Your parents definitely wouldn’t.”

 You roll your eyes, “My parents can - Ugh. I’m twenty-two. I can date who I want. I don’t want my father knowing what goes on in bed, and honestly? It’s kind of weird that he feels the need to know.” 

 “Jeez,” David’s eyebrows fly up, “I thought you were, like, devout.” 

 “I am,” you shrug, “But just because he took a celibacy vow doesn’t mean I can’t get laid. He’s not even a priest, ‘cause he has kids. The Church won’t let him be. Ever.”

 “So, what is he, then? My parents are Catholic, but they don’t go to church here. They said they liked Slovakia’s better,” David asks, eyes on yours, “‘Cause, you know, they speak Slovak.” 

 “I don’t even know what he is,” you admit, “He won’t tell us. My mom knows. He’s just not a priest. I think he resents me and my brothers for it.” 

 “Bruh,” David says informally, rolling his eyes, “I’m sorry, but, like...fuck your dad.” 

 “No, I agree. It’s okay,” you shake your head, “Fuck my dad.”

 “Ew,” he reacts the same way, “Stop it. It sounds so dirty coming out of your mouth.” 

 You giggle and move up to kiss him slowly, arms wrapped around each other, before David breaks, “After we fuck, lemme meet your parents.” 

 You laugh slightly, surprised, “Okay. Why? You’re gonna have...to not be you.”

 “Because,” he kisses you again, “I just want the satisfaction of knowing I railed the fuck out of their daughter when it’s something they fear so much.”

 “You’re such a bad influence,” you press, rolling your eyes, “You’re gonna ruin me.” 

 “You want it,” he rolls both of you over, now hovering over you, “That’s the goal.”

 “I guess so.”

#david dobrik #david dobrik imagine #david dobrik fic #david dobrik au #david dobrik imagines #vlog squad #vlog squad fic #vlog squad au #vlog squad fanfic #vlog squad x you #david dobrik x you #david dobrik fanfiction #david dobrik fanfic

[musubiki]

I forgot if you talked abt this, but does the whole "being on the same level as mochi" thing ever come up in honest conversation between them? Seems like an entire...thing that really influences lime's choices when it comes to the main conflict. I would think either some time after mochi's over her initial jealousy, or heck wayyy after they stop the witch king

oooo youre right i dont think ive talked much about it or at all.,... but YEAH a very key part of limes character is his need to be on the same level as her...partly a pride thing, partly a "i dont feel like i have the right to stand beside her unless i can compete with her" thing

(sorry for the long post rambles, apparently i have a lot more thoughts on this than i thought it did)

but actually this comes up WAY sooner, its WAY too big of an elephant in the room post-timeskip to go un-talked about. pre-timeskip lime could kind of quietly work away at trying to be better, but post-timeskip the m-34th thing is too obvious of a flag for mochi to think everything is okay with him

i think the issues really starts to be hashed out when mochi, at some point (relatively quickly after they reunite), brings up the notion of him quitting the m-34th. to an extent she understood why he joined, he gave her a bunch of reasons why he joined the regiment in the first place (jumping around a bunch of excuses like "They have good benefits" / "I was bored" / etc before finally telling her the truth that "I wanted to find you"), but what she didnt understand is why he stays in

she gave it a bit of time, they went through the whole "well you left me" vs "you joined the organization that exists to kill us" -> "call it even, water under the bridge" thing, and she thought that after a few weeks (months?) he would quit and just be part of her guild again, but he doesnt.

and when she asks him about it, he dodges the question, gives shit answers, dismisses it, a bunch of different things with the underlying message being "I'm not leaving you, but I'm not gonna quit working for them."

and she doesnt want to give him the "choose me or them" ultimatum either (even though pom seems all for it), because 1.) it feels like a shitty thing to do to him, if hes fighting this hard to stay in she doesnt want him to be unhappy, and 2.) shes afraid he might actually choose them

she starts to think a lot of things, that maybe he harbors some bitterness towards her, maybe he doesnt want to put all his eggs in one basket, maybe hes secretly feeding them information on her behind her back, ALL kinds of things.

eventually (and upsettingly) she gets the truth from clarinette. it takes fucking clarinette babbling her mouth away for mochi to get something that she hasnt gotten from lime himself. clarinette (in her delulu) wants to brag a little in the vein of "Haha he confided in me and not in you haha," and mentioned that when she asked him why he stays, he told her "The m-34th makes me stronger" or something along those lines.

and mochis first thought is "I can make him stronger too, he doesnt need to go to them."

and when she CONFRONTS him and tells him this, he gives her a flat "No, you can't." and it FEELS very cold when he says it. she can see the bitterness (bitterness???) behind his eyes when he says it. and its not a bitterness TOWARDS HER, its more of a "I spent 2 years before you left trying everything I could to make myself worthy of you this, and it did nothing. I would take 1 step forward and you would take 5. I'm not going back to that."

so this confrontation became one of those make it or break it conversations for lime, because his only two options were 1) tell mochi the actually pretty embarrassing and pathetic truth, or 2) risk losing her because shes already doubting him enough as it is

i think he probably tries route 2 first though. and whatever it is he tells her, he can see something in her eyes (mistrust? failing faith? fear?) which tells him "Oh no, oh shit, oh god, backtrack you idiot, BACKTRACK!!!" because if he lets this narrative go on for even a few minutes more, hes not going to be able to come back from it.

so he eventually actually does tell her the truth!! and he hates doing it. he really does feel pathetic. its so petty and stupid, he thinks. he shouldnt be trying to compete with the cat witch, hes supposed to be supportive. but he fucking hates being ONLY supportive. he wants to add something, contribute something meaningful, not just be a little accessory/sidekick to mochi.

and (as already mentioned) he cant do that without the m-34th. pre-timeskip he felt useless. and relative to mochi, he was. she wont say it, but she didnt need him. she would reassure him and tell him "You're amazing Lime!" but deep down she knew that after Amanita was dealt with and she was the full-fledged cat witch, she could do all of it on her own (and proves it when she leaves and takes none of them with her). she liked having him there (obviously), but anything he could do she could do better.

he felt like he just took up space, and when she left without telling him or taking him with her, it essentially proved his point. it was not even just a "I dont need you" thing anymore, it was now a "I don't need you, and I also know you don't have the means or ability to change that" and that fucking HURT.

the m-34th though....those guys really honed the shit out of his strengths. on an insane level. they gave him so many skills and tools as a black canvas to do SO MANY THINGS and SO WELL, and maybe this does bring up some resentment to the guild and magic?? that he had so much untapped potential that mochi could just not bring out in an effective way, it essentially bottlenecked him (not her fault, its hard to build the talents of an anti-magic person by using magic).

but these guys...as "bad" as they are (so the witches say), they gave him (and still give him) the power to change that which he hated about himself the most. so that "I don't need you, and I also know you don't have the means or ability to change that" thing can finally FINALLY be met with "Yeah you do, and yeah I fucking can."

so all these feelings manifest as "I won't leave the m-34th because they make me strong enough to stand by your side and not at your feet." AND THEY DO!!!!!! and he probably doesnt say those words directly but everything he DOES say communicates it enough for mochi to see it

(and he probably tells her all of this. she just listens)

so mochi, eventually, understands this. it took the whole pre-timeskip period and some of the post-timeskip period to get there, but she understands him a little more now (and a side of him she didnt know was there). i dont think theres anything she can do to change this aspect of him, but she at least understands his reasons and respects his freedom to pursue that which gives him peace, even if it conflicts with her uh.....occupation (nature?) as a witch. she also can tell him, without any lies or nice little reassurances that "You really are amazing, Lime." in a way she could never be, and he got there on his own, without her. i think shes happy just to know the truth, and know that hes not like betraying her or something. also she probably finds it kinda sweet that he works so hard to stand by her, but tries not to let it go to her head (or her heart) because at least half of it is a lime pride thing and not a mochi love thing

he also throws in a very lime-esq ending on it like "There I said it happy now??? Never make me talk about this again." while completely red-faced. he really does hate this side of himself but he cant help it.

#LONG ASS POST!!!!! sorry #good question....thats a lot of thoughts.. #bpp #text #lore #he is a lot less riddled with anxiety post-timeskip #a lot more confident #and she does notice that #he gets a lot more cocky. much like when they were younger #contrasted to how uhhhh humbled he got pre-timeskip #she likes this version of him better honestly #pre-timeskip he wasnt as....happy #which sucks #you can genuinely see how the confidence boost the m-34th gave him changes his mood

[unpopular-bishop]

celebrity au

Athletic fandoms are a special sort of experience. Having his own favorite athletes, Team has been involved in a debate or two in his time, has watched fan videos and even stumbled upon a few fics here and there, but he’d never been particularly involved with or interested in the personal and private lives of his favorite athletes growing up. He knew some of them were married with kids and some of them weren’t, and some had been in trouble for bad behavior or substance abuse here and there, but that was about it.

He and Win had never really talked about how to handle their relationship in terms of the public eye, or whatever. Team just...worked his way up from college, training and practicing and placing at meets until, one day, suddenly, he was in a hotel room about to compete for gold at the Olympics. Between graduating and that hotel room, he’d picked up a few fans. Some sports enthusiasts, some friends, a few others. He���d done a couple interviews about his swimming, about how it felt to represent Thailand or his trainers. And then he’d placed, brought home gold, and suddenly he had...a few fans more than before. At least a handful.

Still, they’d never really...talked about it. Win was proud of him and went to every competition that he could go to, even if he couldn’t actually go to the Olympics with Team, but he also was always sure to give Team space. This was Team’s thing, and the resort business was Win’s, and they’d meet in the middle and mingle and share but it was important to them both that they were allowed independence that some couples (Dean and Pharm) weren’t interested in maintaining. Team appreciated that, but it turns out that sometimes the willingness to give each other space in their own things leads to being caught off guard.

Like now.

And the interview had started so well.

“So, P’Team,” his interviewer, a nice young woman named Soul, smiles through the screen and Team forces a smile back. He hates interviews, hates interviews, and he’d rather be anywhere but in front of another Zoom call. But his publicist said he needed to do this and Win had promised more Lays after it was over if he kept it together long enough to continue convincing the world he liked anything outside of swimming and eating. At least Soul has been gentle with him; she’s mostly just been asking about his history and that’s familiar. He’s had his answers to “What made you want to swim” and “Why did you decide to be a swimmer” down pat since he first started to compete seriously. It’s all anyone wants to know, usually, alongside some inspirational bullshit that Pharm helped him word a few years ago. Soul is working for a magazine doing a short online feature on him but it isn’t insanely long. This should wrap up soon.

“Can you tell us a little more about your life outside of swimming? You’re always so focused in interviews, so honestly we are a little bit curious about it.”

“Outside of swimming?” Team lets himself lean back in his chair, lets himself think about what he wants to share here. “I like to eat.”

Soul laughs, “Actually, you’ve made no secret of that! I think we all remember you getting out of the pool at your last meet and your manager waiting with a bag of take-out.”

“I really like to eat.” Team shrugs. “Uh, really, there isn’t much outside of swimming. I train and then go eat and then sleep and wake up and do the same thing. Sometimes I play video games.”

He lifts a hand to brush his hair out of his face nervously and then notices Soul’s eyes zero in on his fingers.

“Oh, P’Team! Is that a new ring?”

Team looks at his hand, at the ring she’s mentioned and can’t help the smile that fights its way back to his face. “Yeah. Hia and I just got engaged.”

Soul’s eyes go wide. “Hia?”

“Hia Win,” he says to clarify, in case she’s confused about some other hia.

She blinks, and then he blinks, and the silence lasts for a few seconds before Win ducks his head into the office where Team has set up for the interview, hair still pulled up from being in the ktichen. “Sorry, did you need me? I heard my name?”

Team turns around so he can see Win for real and not just on his screen and shakes his head, “No, N’Soul just asked about my ring.”

“Oh. Okay, sorry to interrupt!” Win smiles really big, the smile he’s been shooting around a lot lately since the engagement and disappears again. When Team turns back around, Soul is muted and talking to someone off screen with a message in chat saying ‘I’m sorry! Just a second, my producer is here!’

Team waits patiently, playing with his ring, watching Soul speak off-screen with an increasingly mulish expression that eventually clears back into the bright smile she’s been wearing most of the interview.

When she unmutes, she is still smiling. “Sorry, P’Team! We just needed to have a quick meeting. Congratulations on your engagement! We’ll cut that out, so please don’t worry at all about it.”

“Cut it out?” Team’s lips twist, “Why? Should I not talk about it?”

“It’s just,” Soul pauses, “You’ve never mentioned your partner before. I don’t want to out you if you were just answering my question and not interested in going public with the knowledge. My producer and I agreed to cut the question so please don’t worry about it!”

“That’s -” Team starts to say not true, and then stops because...oh.

Has he ever talked about Win? In an interview?

“That wasn’t on...purpose.” He finally says, “I’m fine being out or whatever. We are fine being out.” But actually, is he? “Wait. Can you give me a minute? Like five?”

“Of course,” Soul says but Team has already muted and turned back to the door.

“Hia! Hia, there’s a problem!”

“Did you set something on fire?” Win bumps through the door, probably thinking the interview is over because he’s got a tray of chicken still balanced between two mitted hands. “Oh. Team, you’re camera is still on.”

“So apparently I’ve never mentioned you before in an interview?” Team rolls right over Win’s words, brain already fried just trying to understand how he’s been competing for years now and has somehow forgotten to mention his boyfriend-cum-fiance? He’s thanked Win in a few interviews, he’s absolutely positive he has. But told people that Win wasn’t just - someone, but that he is someone to Team?

“Oh.” Win blinks, “I thought you were just keeping it under wraps.”

“Keeping what under wraps?” Team frowns harder, feeling irritated for some reason, “N’Soul said that too. Why would I want to be quiet about this?”

“I don’t know!” Win looks between Team and the chicken, surely starting to feel the heat through the mitts, “Being out in a competitive field is hard, I guess! I just thought you didn’t want that kind of lime light!”

“And you were okay with that? Me treating you like some sort of secret?”

“You aren’t treating me like a secret, Team.” Win scoffs, sounding unbearably fond, “But you’re a private person. It isn’t like we hide it when we go out or anything, you just don’t talk about us when people bring your personal life up. That’s fine with me, baby.”

“It isn’t fine with me!” Team stands up and starts ushering Win out of the room so they can have this conversation off camera and without chicken burning Win’s hands.

“Okay.” Win nods once the chicken is down and they’re standing in the kitchen, “So you...want to come out?”

“I thought I was out!”

“Got it,” Win puts his hands up in defeat, still mitted. “So you want to come out about me, then?”

Team resists the urge to yell I thought I was again, and just nods stiffly.

It’s making his stomach roll, the thought that Win has just been silently thinking Team wasn’t ready, wasn’t willing, didn’t think he was worth the fight to be open about. What the fuck. What the fuck.

Win smiles again, and it isn’t the big bright one that is so common now, but a smaller one. It’s soft and vulnerable. Something Team hasn’t seen in quite a while but which he recognizes immediately as the sort of smile he wants to keep locked up safe in his chest where no one can touch it but he and Win.

“Are you out at work about me?” Team asks, twisting his ring around his finger slowly.

“Of course.” Win assures him, taking the mitts off and setting them on the counter before pulls Team’s hands into his own, “But I work in an office that my family owns, in a job that I know I won’t lose, with people that I know can’t do shit to me or my career, baby. You’re a public figure and have a lot more to risk than I do. It’s okay if you want to wait until you’re done competing, or if you want to keep quiet for however long. I know you love me, I’m not upset or hurt.”

“Well, I am!” Team snaps, even while he grips Win’s hands tight and yanks him closer to hug, “I don’t care if people get pissy about it! You’re my fiance. I’m going to marry you! I don’t care about what some idiots say online or in the crowd or whatever!”

“You could lose sponsors, Team.” Win says patiently and Team can’t help but wrinkle up his nose.

“I don’t want homophobic sponsors, hia.”

Win barks a laugh and drapes his arms around Team’s shoulders, curling his elbows up so he’s cradling Team’s head. When he leans forward, it’s to rest their foreheads together. Team can’t help but look at him. Years now, and he’s still so handsome. Team would hate it except that he loves it so much. Loves how Win looks and walks and acts, even. Loves that Win is wearing his ring, and is going to put his name next to his on paperwork that binds them together.

“If this is what you want,” Win nudges their noses together, light and airy, “Of course I want the public to know that we belong together.”

“You’re sure?” Team has to check, just to be sure, and only really feels the tension leave him when Win nods again. He squeezes Win’s hips, plants a firm kiss on his lips, and then escapes the embrace to go back to the office. He has an engagement to announce and he imagines that he’s gonna have to call his publicist after this. The chicken is probably gonna be cold by the time he actually gets to it.

He twists the ring around his finger again as he sits down in front of Soul, who’s looking a little unsure now.

“Sorry, nong, I just needed to talk to my fiance. Don’t cut that question, please. He isn’t a secret. We aren’t a secret, I mean.”

She smiles, big and bright, and Team smiles back.

#until we meet again #winteam #mine #tags: winteam week 2020 | day 6: celebrity au | team really did think he had already done this (whoops) #wc: 1.8k #ao3 link on first line

[thetenthdoctorscompanion]

Flesh and Blood - A 6 Underground Story

You don’t have to be a ghost here amongst the living. You are flesh and blood. You deserve to be loved, and you deserve what you are given.     -Florence Welch

Warnings: The film is rated R and so is this story. Blood, guts, cursing and adult content to come.

[ MEET ACE ] 

Prologue

“Oh my God, that’s—that’s a fucking eye. That is a fucking eyeball, I—I just had a fucking eyeball on my foot! Dude, that shit was on my—…!” 

“Six, for the love of God, just fucking drive!” 

“No! No, do not drive! I told you to pull the fuck over, okay? Pull the fuck over!” 

It was difficult to concentrate. There was so much screaming, and blood, and shooting, and blood. Six took a hard right down another alley and slammed everyone in the car against the door. 

The aforementioned eyeball swung dangerously in One’s hand. He had to choke down the bile in his throat. He just had to focus. He would not think about the several, certainly dead pedestrians they had hit with their car. He would not think about the blood that was saturating the carpet from Two’s still-gushing bullet wound. He would not think about the police and mafia and hitmen who were chasing them down with very big, very real guns. He just had to focus on pinching the insanely long optic nerve he was holding between his fingers. 

Oh God. He was pinching a fucking optic nerve between his fingers. Maybe he shouldn’t focus on that either. This is all so much easier in theory. 

The Alfa Romeo careened into another alleyway and came to a jerky stop. The eyeball swayed again, like a gruesome, bodily pendulum. One focused all of his energy on not vomiting. Adding another bodily fluid into the mix was not going to help matters. 

“Whose eye is that?” Six asked, as One repositioned the smart phone in his hand. 

“It’s—It’s the lawyer’s.” 

“D-Did you just scoop it out, or…?” 

“God, no!” One yelped, trying to steady the eye over the phone’s camera. “I didn’t scoop it out! Two did!” 

He jerked his head toward the blonde woman in the backseat, who was busy beating her head against the wall of the car. She was still bleeding heavily. The brunette next to her ducked low to assess the damage, trying to take advantage of the momentary stillness. 

Somewhere above them, a bird pooped. It splattered on the windshield. One’s suspicions had been correct. The new bodily fluid did nothing to help matters with his stomach. 

“Okay,” he muttered to himself, repositioning the eyeball in his fingers. “All of Rovach’s transmissions. This is gonna lead us straight to the four generals.” 

“I’m getting a little lightheaded,” Six admitted. 

“Yeah, well, you’re not the one holding it.” 

The eyeball continued to rotate, circling the target center of the camera. Why were biometric locks so fucking complicated? Why couldn’t he just get a really HD picture of the guy and print it? He could use a 3D printer for that, right? Someone had to be 3D printing organs already. Where were all the hackers of the world when you needed them to bypass a biometric lock? They were really just slacking, when you thought about it. Complete oversight in piracy—no pun intended—but criminals really should… 

“You got the generals?” Six prompted. “Can I go?” 

One was about to tell him exactly where he could go—straight to Hell without passing GO or collecting $200—when there was a screech behind them. Everyone glanced out the rear window at the same time. 

“Cop,” Five said breathlessly, as if the other three couldn’t see the white and blue car. She ducked down in the seat, wiping Two’s blood off of her face. “Cop!” 

“Don’t you move,” One ordered, before Six could ask again. “Don’t you move!” 

“There’s a cop looking right at us!” Five hissed from the back. 

“Yes, thank you! I’d gathered!” 

“Yo, just—just be cool,” Six said, his voice trembling in the most uncool way imaginable. “M-Maybe they won’t recognize us.” 

“Recognize us?” Five repeated incredulously. “You’re driving a lime green sports car with no side mirror, covered in scratches and blood from pedestrians! How the fuck are they not gonna recognize us?” 

At that exact moment, a flash of green caught One’s eye. It was gone by the time he looked up. They were parked in an empty alleyway with a handful of Vespas. No movement, no green. He might’ve thought he imagined it if he hadn’t heard the colossal crash on the next road over. 

The cop peeled away, leaving them behind. 

“What the fuck was that?” One demanded. 

 “W-Who cares?” Six laughed, sagging in his seat. “Ho—Holy shit! Holy shit! He’s gone!” 

“Why?” 

Two was twisted around in her seat, bullet wound forgotten as she stared out the rear window. Her voice was full of suspicion. But One had gone straight past suspicion and into rage. 

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he spat, glowering at the uncooperative eyeball. His hands were starting to shake from the effort of making them not shake. “Five! Five, I need you to reach into my pocket and get my walkie talkie.” 

“Excuse me?” Five stuck her head up between the front seats. Her face was still covered in blood. “You realize I’m conducting surgery right now, yeah? Two is gonna fucking die! You get your stupid walkie talkie!” 

“I would except I won’t because I can’t because I’m holding onto a human fucking eyeball! I need my hands to crack the phone, Six needs his hands to drive, and Two needs her hands to shoot! So reach into my jacket pocket and get my fucking radio!” 

Five muttered some spectacularly colorful curse words in Spanish, but reached around to grab the walkie talkie. Her glove-covered hands smeared blood all over the fabric, and the radio nearly slipped out of her grip to nail him in the crotch, but she recovered at the last second. 

“Good, good. Now hold down the button, and hold it up to…” 

“I know how to use a fucking walkie talkie!” 

“Okay! Wow! Okay, just let me talk!” 

One turned his head toward the radio, keeping one eye on the eye. It was difficult to aim and talk at the same time. Much like a urinal. 

“Yeah, hi! This is One for Ace. Ace, you copy?” 

“Ace?” Six asked in surprise. “Why are you…?” 

“Silence, Bieber. Ace! Do you copy?” 

There were several tense seconds of silence, but no response. One nodded to Five, who pushed the button again. 

“I repeat, this is One for Ace. Do you copy?” 

There was no response. Several more police cars sped by, and they heard another crash a few streets away. People were screaming. Five pressed the button again. 

“Ha, ha. Okay, now, when I say ‘One for Ace,’ that means my name is One, and I’m looking to talk to Ace. That’s how radio language works. And everyone here should know that, because we went over that at the mission meeting. But maybe—maybe some of us weren’t paying attention at the mission meeting because they weren’t supposed to be coming on the motherfucking mission! Now I asked if you fucking copied!” 

A sound like a minor explosion echoed from behind them, and in the silence that followed, he got a one-word reply. 

“Busy!” 

“Oh ho, ho, you motherfucker,” One growled. “You stupid motherfucker.” 

“Can you fucking focus?” Two spat from the backseat. “Open the phone and let’s go!” 

“Oh, can you fucking focus?” One mimicked in a high pitch voice. “Open the phone, wah! I’m trying!” 

One of the women kicked the back of his seat. 

“That’s not helping!” 

He huffed out a deep breath and turned his attention back to the phone. The eyeball slowed, slowed, and finally, the iris came to a rest in the middle of the target. The phone trilled, and unlocked. 

“Go! Guys—g-go, go, go, go, go!” 

The engine roared, and the car shot out of its hiding place like a canon. They skidded onto the street, making another huddle of tourists scatter to avoid losing life and limb. Six clipped another Vespa, which lost control and veered into the opposite line. There was a remarkable crunch as metal and rubber and bone all went flying. 

“Okay, where am I going?” Six asked, ignoring the fleshy debris. 

“The meet point,” One said without hesitation. 

“What?” Five was leaning forward again, outraged. “What about Ace?” 

“Ace is just gonna have to take care of herself. She is not supposed to be here! Do even understand what kind of liability that is?” 

“This is a mission,” Two said, shaking her head. “No surprises.” 

“Yes! Thank you, Two! Finally, someone talking some sense!” 

“What is she even doing here?” Six asked. 

“Good fucking question.” One stowed the eyeball back in its organ case, wiping his hands on his jacket before he grabbed the radio back. “Hey there, Ace. Six would like to know what the fuck you’re doing here. I would like to know that as well, if you’re not too busy to answer.” 

“Driving!” 

“Oh yeah, I caught that. Very nice. Kinda looked like an—oh, I don’t know—bright green Alfa Romeo? Which is weird, cause that’s what we’re driving!” 

He waited several seconds before barking her codename again. Six screeched around a corner, shooting him a side glance. 

“Dude, if she’s driving, she can’t exactly answer you.” 

“Okay, when I want your opinion, Six, I will go ahead and shoot myself in the face—no, that—okay, that one was overkill. I’m sorry. Just—Just please keep driving.” 

Six opened his mouth to argue, but was cut off by another bullet hitting the car. Sparks sprayed in all directions, and everyone screamed. The car swerved, nearly taking out a souvenir stand. 

“Who is shooting at us?” Six screeched. “I thought they were gone! Who the fuck is shooting at us?” 

“I don’t know! Two—Two, shoot back!” 

“I’m trying, you fucking idiot!” 

Two beat Five’s insistent hands away from her stomach, leaning out the window to shoot at the cars that were closing in. A whirring sound caught One’s attention, and he looked out over the water to find the source. Far above them, the police helicopter was still hovering. 

 “Police my fucking ass,” One grumbled to himself. “Everywhere you go! Everywhere there’s dirty fucking cops!” 

“You gotta lose that police chopper.” 

Four’s extremely unhelpful voice came through the radio in One’s hands. 

“Yes, thank you! We’re trying! It’s a little hard to lose the chopper when you’re being shot at! So take your valuable advice and shove it up your ass! Ace, where are you?” 

“Yeah, I think she’s got her hands full,” Four informed him. “She’s headed your way down the water, got five or six cars behind her. Unless that one’s you. In which case she’s headed your way with four guys on her arse.” 

“Well let’s hope it’s Ace with guys up her ass, cause I—I really couldn’t deal with that right now.” 

“I dunno. You’ve got Two, Five and Six. You could each take one.” 

“Fuck both of you.” 

“Oh, now she speaks!” One shouted. “Okay! Chopper, cars! Any ideas?” 

“Ha! Now you need me?” 

“Well unfortunately you’re already here! So! Ideas!” 

“One, but I need—oh fuck!” 

 The sound of gunshots cut her off, then disappeared when she cut the transmission. 

“Oh my God,” Six whined. “Fuck, is she—is Ace fucking dead?” 

“She’s not dead,” One assured him. “She’s too annoying to be dead.” 

His eyes were already scanning the road ahead for explosions, looking for any clue as to where Ace was driving. It was too crowded to see any bright green, and the screaming and scrambling pedestrians could be running away from either one of them. The whole street was fucking chaos. 

“Ace?” he called into the walkie. “Come on, you little shit. Where are you?” 

“Here!” 

“Here?” he repeated, still scouring the road. “Where the fuck is—HOLY MOTHER OF GOD!” 

The produce truck that had been in front of them swerved out of the way, leaving ten feet of rapidly decreasing space. On the other side was another bright green Alfa Romero, Ace behind the wheel. Five and Six both screamed. Two might’ve if she wasn’t still in fucking arcade mode with her gun. One was fairly certain he’d shit his pants. This was not the heroic way he’d imagined himself dying for real. 

This whole mission fucking sucked.

TAG LIST: Currently just @samwilsonns and @anotherunreadblog until I figure out what I’m doing with this lol.

#6 underground #six underground #ocappreciation #6 underground oc #6 underground fanfiction #flesh and blood #stories #6u stories #i blame joey entirely

[chimie-chat]

The Big Book: A Roy Harper recovery fic

It was funny how a situation that should have been perfectly normal could suddenly be so stressful. A clink as glasses tipped against one another. The oh-so-familiar EDM bass beat that filled the air until it practically vibrated against his skin. The clammy feeling in the palms of his hands…

Roy took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to occupy his thoughts with literally anything other than the 1.75 milliliter bottle just on the other side of the table. His eyes were trained on the deep honey color of the liquid inside while his fingers traced the circle of condensation his own cup left behind on the vinyl tablecloth. 

Stop staring. Come on Harper. You can do this. He tore his eyes away, screwing them shut as he brought his cup up to his lips and took a sip of shirley temple. The artificial flavor of grenadine tasted way too sweet, but the bubble of the soda against his gums made him relax ever so slightly. That was the feeling he loved. Not exactly, but it was pretty damn close. Not a day went by that he didn’t imagine the ghost of beer fizz on his lips, but if he could mimic it, even slightly, then it made this shitty situation just that much easier. 

Living Sober, a book written by and for alcoholics, suggested keeping a sweet drink in your hand any time you would be near alcohol. Needless to say, ever since he managed to start this bout of sobriety, Roy had kept nothing but sugary drinks in hand at all times. His soda intake had gone through the roof. But hey. At least he wasn’t drinking.

He wasn’t drinking.

He wasn’t drinking. 

That would be great… If he wasn’t surrounded by people who were. It was some kind of get-together; a bad attempt at rekindling friendships between his former Titans team, his current Outlaws, and various other vigilantes in their age range. That was a lie. IT was just gonna be the Titans. At least, that’s what it started as. That’s what the plan was. To be perfectly honest, Roy hadn’t wanted to go at all. Did he like his friends? Sure. That was the word for it. They were like a second, third, and fourth family to him after all. But he knew them all too well. He knew that spending time with them would mean white knuckling it as they drank. Them pretending they were being conscious of his predicament while simultaneously clinking their shot glasses together. God he didn’t want to be here.

“So then Wally turned to the guy and saidー”

“No! You’re gonna do it wrong!” The speedster cut Dick off with a hand over the guy’s mouth. Wally. The only other member of this ragtag group that wasn’t some form of intoxicated right now. It wasn’t by choice though. No matter how much the man drank, his metahuman genealogy made it impossible for him to get drunk. What a lucky prick. “So I turned to the guy and saidー”

Roy took another sip of his shirley temple. 

“Hold on. I’m gonna go get another one.” Donna pushed up from her seat, and Roy couldn’t help but look at her face. The woman’s face always got a pink glow after she’d had a few. It was a sure tell that she was getting close to her limit, but everyone knew she wasn’t going to stop any time soon. She walked with her highball glass to the bar counter on the other side of the sleazy joint they were in and waved down the bartender. 

“Oh yeah. Another!” Dick reached for the bottle of gold Jose Cuervo and poured himself another shot. That was just like Dick. Always sloppy.

Still. Roy watched the tequila pour and couldn’t help but lick his lips. God he loved tequila. He remembered when he first started drinking, and would still pour salt on the back of his hand and bite into a lime wedge with each shot. When had he stopped relying on tricks to keep it down? When had it started going down like water? By the time he was about… Eighteen maybe? No. Probably seventeen. The ginger man felt a shiver roll down his spine. Right. That’s why we quit. Because it was too easy not to.

He reached for his pocket, opening up his wallet and peaking at the orange colored coin inside. Two months. Two whole months. He pulled it out slightly and reach the inscription on the back.

God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.

The prayer played on repeat in his head like a broken record. He could do this. Just an outing with friends. He could do this.

“ーgrade, right?” 

It took a moment for Roy to realize someone was talking to him. “Huh?” He slipped his coin back into his wallet and looked up to find Lilith staring right at him from across the table. To be honest, he didn’t remember talking to this girl all that much. At least not recently. Not since she moved to the… Oh lord where had she moved to. West coast? That sounded right. Wow. He was a really shitty friend. “Sorry, what was that?”

“Lian. She’s in the first grade now, isn’t she?” The red headed girl swirled her straw through her strawberry daiquiri. 

“Oh uhー”

“She’s still in kindergarten.” The voice came with a weight leaning down on Roy’s shoulder, and the man didn’t have to look up to know exactly whose it was. Jason fucking Todd, hopefully here to save the day. 

“That so? How nice.” Lilith seemed to accept this, smiling over the lip of her drink, and for some reason not using to straw to take a sip. Why? What was the point of that? Using the straw made it easier to get straight to the rum that settled at the bottom of the glass.

“Hey Jaybird. Better late than never, asshole.” Roy smacked the guy’s arm away. 

“Hit some traffic.” The man just shrugged before dragging a chair away from another table and somehow fitting it between Roy’s and Donna’s. Probably for the better. “Didn’t realize yous guys would get the party started without me.”

“What? You think we’re just gonna wait for ya?” The archer did his best to flash a grin as he lifted his glass, tipping it back against his lips, only to find out that it was empty. So instead he pulled one of the ice cubes into his mouth and chewed on it. Ok. That worked too.

Jason eyed him for a second. “Want me to get you another?” 

“Nah, I’ll be fine.” Roy placed the glass down, tapping his fingers against the sides of it.

“Hold on a sec. Hey waiter!” Jason called out towards some poor, underpaid girl in a waist-apron. He waved her over. “Can we get anotherー Wait what were you drinking?”

Roy felt his nerves spike. He didn’t like announcing his prissy, sissy drinks to the world. He had this manly persona to keep up. Someone like him should be ordering a glass of whiskey. Someone like him should be getting ready to slam down another jägerbomb, then disappear into the bathroom to do a line of some sketchy shit he bought off some random guy in the parking lot. “The usual.” He muttered.

“Alright so Imma need a gingerale, and a shirley temple. Make sure to put a few extra cherries in there for me too, if ya could.” Jason rattled off the order without any need for clarification. Damn. This bastard really knew him too well. 

With the waitress gone ー he was oddly nervous about eavesdroppers ー Roy felt like he could relax again. “You’re not drinking?”

“Nah. I’m good.” Jason shrugged before stretching an arm over the back of Roy’s chair. It was casual. Nothing odd about it at all.

“Oh. Ok then.”

“Jayyy?” Dick’s slurred words interrupted. “When’d you get’ere?”

“I’ve been here this whole time.”

Roy couldn’t help but snort at the confused expression on the man’s face as he sincerely tried to remember whether or not Jason had, in fact, been with them since the beginning. Eventually, the acrobat just shrugged, and took a sip of some highlighter blue drink he’d somehow acquired. Well, Donna was back, so maybe she brought it for him. 

“Dick slow down.” Wally tried to grab at the end of the glass, but their drunken mess of a leader pulled it tight into his chest instead.

“No! I’m only on like…” They all watched as the man counted on his fingers, before holding up one hand. “I’m on drink seven. I’m fine!”

What a lightweight. Seven drinks was nothing. Roy needed bare minimum twelve strong ones. 

“What an idiot.” He heard Jason mumble. 

“Our fearless leader.” Roy dipped his fingers into his cup and pulled up another ice cube. If this is what he was stuck with, then that was fine. Damn. When was that new drink gonna get here?

Jason looked him over. “You doing ok?” The question was whispered.

There was a pause as Roy just let the ice cube melt on the top of his tongue. He sucked on it lightly, tasting the residual sugar that it must have picked up from the syrup. “Yeah. I’m alright.”

“Don’t lie to me, Harper.”

The stern tone in Jason’s voice made Roy chuckle and roll his eyes. “Yes Mom.” He looked off at the decorations on the wall of the pub, lifting his hands to adjust the cap on his head. He couldn’t quite decide if he wanted it to face forward or back, but he decided to settle on forward for now. “Yeah. I think I’m ok. I’m making it by at least.”

“Alright, man." 

They somehow integrated themselves into the conversation again, though it was mostly Jason making sarcastic comments on whatever trash left their increasingly drunken friend's mouths, while Roy stayed on the sidelines. The waitress coming back was the biggest blessing he'd had since sitting down. He immediately pulled one of four maraschino cherries out and popped it into his mouth, the cool gush of the juice kicking his senses back into gear. 

There were several moments where he thought of jumping into the conversation, and putting in his two cents. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, and thought about which AA meetings he could get to this week. As fun as the seven thirty am meeting was, it seemed like he would be out late tonight, so he probably wouldn't be able to get up for it. He could probably get to a noon meeting, but he really preferred the noon NA meetings. It's been a skinny minute since he's gone to NA actually…. Well he didn't really have anything to do tomorrow, so he could go to that, and then stick around for the four o'clock AA, and then pick up a Happy Meal for Lian for dinner. Yeah. That would work. She loved getting those toys too.

It wasn't until Jason tapped on the back of his chair that Roy realized he'd really let himself zone out. He frowned. That wasn't like him at all. He needed to be more active in the conversations; at the very least, crack some jokes. He listened in on Donna attempting to lecture the rest of their teammates on the buddy system, before he finally jumped back in. 

"Oh come on, baby. How much trouble could they get in?" He grinned, leaning on his elbows.

Apparently, this question caused some kind of horror, cause the star-spangled girl immediately looked at him in shock. "A lot, actually."

"Nah. They'll totally be fine." He waved her off, crossing his arms behind his head. Did he know the context? Not at all. Fake it 'til ya make it, am I right?

"Oh my god you really are all dumbasses." The woman hung her head in her hands.

"Uh hey. Don't lump me in with this." Jason frowned. "I'm not part of your little troupe."

"No you just stole Roy from us." Wally jabbed, pushing the now empty tequila bottle to the other side of the table. When did it get empty? Who drank it? Who drank the most tonight?

"This idiot? You can have him back any time."

"Ouch. Tell me how you really feel."

The chatter stayed pretty consistent, and for a while the archer was actually feeling quite comfortable. This was easy. Talking. He could do that. Now that drinks seemed to be done with, and they could all collectively agree to give Dick shit for how he was acting, this was all fine. Wow. Being sober was great. Going out with friends, knowing that he'd remember getting home? Amazing. Not googling the nearest ATM so he could get cash to blow on smack? Definitely saving the bank.

He could do this. This time, he'd make it work. This time he'd go through the steps, and rely on his sponsor when he needed it. He’d do a ninety in ninety, and collect those chips like they were Pokémon cards. He could build a display for them. He loved building things, and tinkering, and he’d been looking for a new project. He could make enough spots for a whole years worth. It would give him that bit of motivation he needed. 

He vaguely caught a whiff of a glass of wine being served at another table, and flicked his wallet open again to see the picture of his daughter he kept over his license. That right there was his main reason for keeping clean. That smile.

He had to do this.

“Dude, you ok?” Wally’s voice shook Roy out of whatever train of thought he’d somehow wandered down.

“Huh?” He rubbed his thumb back and forth over the photograph. 

“Idunnoman.” The fellow redhead shrugged, tipping his chair back on its hind legs. “You just seem out of it. Really weird too. You’re not talkin’ all that much either.”

“Um…” Roy pulled the lip of his baseball cap down over his face, and took a breath. “Yeah, man. I’m doing fine.” 

“You sure? Cause like, you just seem different andー”

“He’s the same as he always is.” Jason practically slammed ー well, loudly placed down ー his soda. The action itself wasn’t very threatening, but the glare that came along with it wasn’t one you’d want to be on the other end of.

For some ungodly reason, rather than just dropping it, this asshole just had to keep pushing. Man, fuck speedsters. Sure, Wally was one of his best friends, but like… Screw you, man. “But like… I dunno it just doesn’t really seem like you wanna be here.” He doesn’t. “Like you didn’t have to come, but since you’re here you could likeー”

“What?” Roy felt his face drop. No. No that wasn’t what he was thinking at all. “Dude, I was the one that suggested we get together in the first place.” It was his sponsor’s idea. Rekindling old friendships was supposed to help him relearn how to be social. 

“Not to start an argument here,” Oh god Donna not you too. “But I do agree that you’re acting different than you normally do. If something’s wrong, you know you can talk to us.”

“Nothing’s wrong.” Nothing’s wrong with you guys, but everything’s wrong with him. Roy felt his heartbeat picking up. Was he really that… weird? He thought… He thought he was doing so well…”

“You surー”

“Leave it.” Jason cut in again, this time a lot more forceful. Thank his Higher Power for this guy. Honestly? Where the hell would he be without this guy? The angry, warning voice came with a hand on Roy’s thigh, which he hadn’t realized was bouncing at about a mile a minute. It gripped, and Roy stilled.

“It’s fine, Jay.” He whispered, though he placed his hand down on top of the other’s. “It’s…” He took a deep breath. “Actually, can I go?”

Jason just nodded, instantly pushing his chair back. “It’s pretty late. You probably gotta pick Lian up from the sitter, right?” Thank you for making up an excuse. Thank you so much.

“Shit. You’re right.” He did his best to feign like he’d completely forgotten about that. He didn’t actually have to pick Lian up until the morning. He’d made plans just in case he fucked up tonight. She didn’t deserve to see him any kind of distressed, or under any kind of influence. She didn’t deserve to know her daddy was such a fucking mess. He looked back towards his friends, making sure to smile even though he really didn’t feel up to it. “Sorry guys. We should do this again next week though.”

“Totally!” Lilith jumped in with a smile. She was always nice. Wow. He seriously needed to talk to her more. At the time, it didn’t occur to him that she was a psychic, and could probably read the sheer distress that was rolling through him. No. That was something he wouldn’t realize until tomorrow. “I’ll make sure to keep my weekend free for you. Oh, could you bring Lian next time? I haven’t seen her in ages.”

Any excuse to think about his little Squeaker was an excuse to actually feel good. “I’ll send you a picture of something she drew a few days ago. I think you’d like it. Well uh…” He looked to Jason, who was pulling a wad of cash out of his pocket ー no wallet apparently ー and dropping it on the table. It was more than enough to cover both of their drinks. “Yeah. I’ll see you later.”

He vaguely registered a very drunken goodbye from Dick, and what sounded like Wally getting smacked ー he deserved it ー as he pushed his way out of the pub, his feet carrying him faster than would be deemed normal, but he wasn’t quite running, so that was probably fine? 

The cold night air filled his lungs when he stepped into the parking lot and it was… It was so much. The combination of finally able to release that tension from white knuckling it through the past few hours, and the shame of apparently being a bad friend made him just.... Men don’t cry. They don’t. They’re not supposed to, but right now, standing outside of a shitty dive joint he didn’t even want to go to in the first place, stuffing his hands into his armpits because of course he hadn’t brought a jacket, he could just feel the sting in the corners of his eyes; the pool, and the threat that this of all places was where he was finally going to break down, and… God he just… He felt so useless. 

Hinges cried out as the door opened and slammed shut, before a body was standing right next to him. He didn’t have to look up to know is was Jason. It was always Jason. Soon that slightly stained, definitely thrifted leather jacket that was so iconically him was being draped around Roy’s shoulders. First he felt the warmth. The smell of cigarette smoke came as he muttered his thanks, and adjusted the coat so his arms could be shoved into the sleeves. One of Jason’s hands dug through the jacket’s outer pocket, and pulled out a Marlboro box and an old fashioned zippo. The only sound between them was the repeated flicks of the lighter, before Jason took his first drag. “Want it?” He held it between them.

Roy looked at it, before shaking his head. “Stopped that too.” 

“Oh. Sorry.”

“Nah. It’s fine. You didn’t know.” He pulled at the collar of the jacket, and took a deep breath. “It was the easiest thing to quit.”

“I bet.” The cigarette was only half finished when Jason tossed it to the ground and snubbed it out with the toe of his boot. “I know you didn’t drive. Want me to take you home, or do you want to come back with me?”

Roy thought about it. Home would be empty right now. That didn’t sound great. Of course, Jay would stay if he asked. But they both knew who had the more comfortable bed. “Your place.”

“Cool.” A finger and thumb pinch at the hem of one of Roy’s pockets and gave a tug. “Come on. My bike’s over here.” 

Roy let himself be led. “Don’t you think a car would be smarter in this weather?”

There was a slight hum, though they both knew there was no way Red Hood would ditch his bike for a Honda Civic. The only reason Roy traded his out was because a carseat couldn’t fit on his Harley. “Nah. I think I’m good. ‘Sides. I got good tires.” 

Jason was parked on the other side of the lot, which was awfully far from the entrance to the pub, but really close to the road. He always did that. Closer to the road meant it was easier to get away. They did a lot of that; getting away. 

The second seat popped open, and Jay pulled out the ever-iconic Red Hood helmet, holding it under his arm as he held out a second, all black one out. “Can’t have your brains splatting all over the road.”

He couldn’t help the chuckle that left him. “Damn, how bad did your driving get?” Roy took the helmet and just… Stared at it. The tinted face shield would make it impossible for anyone to identify the wearer, but it still somehow caught a glare from a nearby street lamp. He felt himself frowning at it. “Hey… Jay?”

“Yeah?”

“Am I…” He swallowed. He didn’t actually know what question he wanted to ask. Words were never his strong suit. Action always worked best for him. Punching things, and shooting things, and… and… What else did he like? Maybe he didn’t need to ask a question right now. Actions. Doing things. Yeah. That’s what he needed right now. He needed to do something. Anything. Anything that would make him not think about the bees in his teeth. “Sorry. I’m being and idiot.”

“Hey. None of that.” Jason hung his helmet on the handlebars before stepping in and pulling the one out of Roy’s hands, placing it on the leather seat. Hands found their spot on Roy’s shoulders, squeezing them in a really awful massage, then traveled up to grip much more reassuringly at the back of the man’s neck. One pulled at the brim of Roy’s hat and twisted it around. “You’re doing great, Roy. You’re doing really great.”

He nodded, letting his partner step into his space. His head fell when thumbs rubbed into the tangles on the back of his neck. 

“Roy. Bud, at me.”

He shook his head.

Hot breath fanned over his face in time with the forehead that pressed against his own. The leather strap from his cap made it awkward, but neither man made any effort to move. “You’re going great, Roy. I’m so proud of you for getting through that.”

“I justー” The archer swallowed the lump in his throat. “I need it to stick this time. I can’t mess up this time.”

“You won’t.” Jason whispered. 

“How could you possibly know that?”

“Cause I know you, and you’re a hard ass.” It broke the tension just enough for both of them to give a slight laugh. Then, Jason pulled back, smiling as he looked into Roy’s eyes. “You can beat this. I know you can.”

Roy swallowed and nodded. He reached forward, gripping into that shitty, high-thread count polo shirt the other man was wearing. God he hated how that one piece of clothing probably cost more than his own full outfit. Every fiber of his being craved everything he couldn’t have. He craved the absolute lack of control and massive confidence boost alcohol gave him. He craved the clarity and creativity LSD opened his eyes to. He craved the euphoric rush of cocaine, and peaceful relaxation of weed. First and foremost, he craved the mellow, the “world is beautiful” feeling, the “life is worth living” feeling…. He craved just how fucking nice heroin was. Roy felt himself shaking, as he met Jason’s eyes, and he just knew what the pleading expression on his face looked like. A glance of blue eyes over his absolute mess of an expression, and he knew Jason had figured it out too. 

Lips pressed together, groundless and chapped, but enough to fill that last craving up. For now. Roy sighed and leaned in close, ignoring the voice of his sponsor in the back of his mind telling him just how stupid he was to be starting something with his best friend right now. No offence Waylon, but you’re an idiot if you don’t think this hasn’t been in the works for years, and an ass for trying to get him to stop now. 

“Better?” Jason asked, pulling back just slightly. 

Roy closed his eyes and took a deep breath, his senses filling with that cigarette smell that clung to his partner. “Not really. But thanks.”

“Is there a meeting tonight I can take you to?” A hand gently pushed the motorcycle helmet back to Roy. “Or I can take you in the morning. I’ll go with you.”

“Tomorrow…” Roy nodded. “I wanna go to my homegroup. It’s in Star City though.”

“Easy.” Jason grinned, and stepped back, grabbing his mask and throwing it on, before swinging a leg over his bike. 

“You sure?” For the first time in what felt like all night, Roy felt that stupid, broken smirk of his form on his face again. “The early bird meeting is at seven thirty.”

That seemed to make Jason pause for a moment. Bats weren’t exactly known for being early to rise. “I’ll make it work.”

“So difficult.” He took his cap off and jammed it into the inside zipper pocket of the leather jacket, then put his own helmet on, before hopping on the bike. He gripped at the strap of Jason’s belt, curling his fingers tight around it. He wasn’t about to be caught dead wrapping his arms around the dude’s waist. “Thanks, Jaybird. I mean it.”

The engine roared to life, and he shut his eyes, once again reciting the usual prayer in his mind.

God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.

Keep coming back. It works if you work it.

#roy harper #arsenal #red arrow #speedy #jason todd #red hood #rhato #titans #dick grayson #nightwing #lilith clay #omen #wally west #kid flash #flash #donna troy #wonder girl #fanfiction #fanfic #dc #dc comics #roy x jason #jason x roy #jayroy #royjay #addiction #alcohol #drugs #heroin #cocaine

[twoidiotwriters1]

Starcrossed Losers II (Josh Wheeler xReader)

A/N: Loving this thing already, seriously hoping to keep the constant of posting two chapters every week lmao

Words: 2,766

Warnings: Swearing ig

Previous Chapter // Next chapter

Of course. Of course, it was this guy.

Eli fucking Cardashyan, or as I liked to call him, the goblin under the bridge that always copied my answers on every test since we were thirteen. Just like Josh, Angelica and Wesley, I knew Eli from a while back. He wasn’t exactly popular but everyone knew him as the school’s “wanna-be”, I thought he would be dead by now, I’m glad to see I was wrong.

But I can’t believe he’s got the mall for himself. Even worse, I can’t believe I didn’t think of that. The mall was neutral territory, everyone could go and hang out with their friends, so the most logical thing is to say everyone had the same right over it. And is Eli Cardashyan the one who gets to have it all for himself? I call bullshit. This kind of situation is what leads me to believe that there is really no god.

“This is who we’ve been scared of?” Angelica complains, “A light breeze could kick his ass!”

“I thought it was gonna be Hoyles,” Wesley adds in a mix of disbelief and disappointment, “this is... Who is this again?”

“It’s Eli,” sighs Josh, he walks towards the bike and examines it, then lets out a childish laugh, “it’s fine, He’s a knock-off Baron Triumph”

And yes, obviously he was. Eli could be an idiot sometimes but he wasn’t a murderer. He went off on his (honestly weird as hell) speech until Josh cut him off.

“Who else is with you? Where is Sam Dean?” Eli scoffs.

“Do I look like her publicist?”

“Sam’s not here?” 

“I’m sorry, it’s just me and my girlf, Mavis” He answers with a smirk.

Josh and I share a look, I shrug and mouth a ‘sorry’, Josh shakes his head, telling me not to worry about it.

“You have the entire mall? You?” asks Angelica.

“Right?! How did that even happen?” I ask in frustration. Wesley mumbles a ‘chill, girl’ that I decide to ignore.

Eli went on and on, and to be honest I think I only understood like fifty percent of what he was saying, part because I wasn’t listening, and part ‘cause the boy has a wild vocabulary. Josh and I looked at each other in annoyance and I knew he was feeling as done as me with the conversation. When I was starting to think this day couldn’t get any crazier, the real Baron Triumph made his entrance.

We all hurl up at the doors and Eli pulls out a set of keys from his pocket, desperately trying to open them.

“Faster, he’s almost here!” says Josh.

“Get your own mall, this one’s mine” Eli grumbles.

“Are you twelve?” I reply, “We’re on the same side here!”

“We’re finna get eaten out here...”

“Not helping, Wesley.” 

“Got it!” Says Eli. The other boys pull him aside and practically rip the chains from the handles, “Hey!”

Josh pushes me inside hurriedly before entering himself. The others soon following after. I hear the door slamming shut and I look over my shoulder to see Eli running behind us; we’re all safe.

We reach one of the halls and Josh stops in awe, it takes me an extra second to stop completely cause I’m still wearing my skates, but when I do I’m just as amazed as him. Behind me, I hear Angelica talk.

“There’s power and air conditioning...”

“Everything is so... clean”

“Still smells like cinnabon”

“Am I still alive?” I look over at Josh, “You sure I didn’t die when you hit me this afternoon?”

“I didn’t hit you that hard,” He replies, still looking around like it was the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen.

“Solar panels on the roof!�� Eli sings, “This is an island of paradise in an ocean of poop.”

“What a fancy allegory,” I snicker.

I’ll allow myself to remember, I don’t do it as often as I’d like...

-Flashback time-

What? You thought I wasn’t going to do this? C’mon, I’m a lonely child. All I have are my memories of the good ol’ times, so you’ll be forced to relive them with me. Sorry, I don’t make the rules. (I do, but I don’t wanna brag about it).

“We should go to my place, there’s nothing to do here...”

“Maya, for the last time,” I look at the girl standing next to me, “we told Alex we would meet here.”

“I know,” She whines, “but Hoyles is here and that guy gives me the creeps. I heard he tried to have sex with Ashley Miller while she was completely wasted”

“Sounds like Hoyles,” I nod in agreement, “but we can’t scatter everytime we run into them. We’re not little kids anymore, he can’t hurt us”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” She points to the opposite corner, Hoyles and his gang are terrorizing a freshman and the people around does nothing but move away.

“Can you belive that?” I start to walk towards them but Maya grabs my arm tightly, “What?”

“Don’t be stupid,” She rolls her eyes, “don’t even try to stop them, seriously, they won’t stop and you’ll get harassed.”

“It’s a freshman!” I insist, “Hoyles is like three times his size! You can’t expect me to do nothing”

“Listen,” my friend raises an eyebrow, “Y/N, those guys are crazy, please...”

I look back at the boys and realize they’re no longer there, I turn to her in defeat.

“I just really hate bullies, okay?”

“Let’s face it, we don’t have the ability to stop them all.”

“To stop what?” 

I quickly turn around and see the person I’ve been waiting for: Alex, my best friend since childhood. My mood switches instantly and I shrugg it off, already starting to forget.

“Just the usual dumbassery,” I reply with a chuckle.

“Hey loser,” Maya adds, “you’re late.”

“Yeah, I know” Alex nods awkwardly, “lost track of time again, sorry.”

“What was it this time?” I ask, “youtube or the comic?”

“Youtube,” He smirks, “vine is honestly a national treasure.”

“Sure,” I snort, “too bad is dead now.”

“Those who are great live the shortest lives,” He replies with his ‘wise old man’ voice.

“So,” Maya hops between us and puts her arms around our shoulders, “you want to look around?”

“I wanna go see the skates,” Alex adds, basically vibrating, “they have a new model and I wanna try them on.”

“The skates place, then,” My friend nods and pulls us with her.

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

A loud bang brings me back to the present and I remember why were we hiding here in the first place.

“This way, quick!” Eli tells us before he starts running. I move fast since I’m the only one with wheels on her feet. And soon most of them are behind me. Eli presses a button on the keychain he has, and the metal curtain lifts up enough for us to get in. “Go under, we’ll be safe in here...”

As soon as Josh, Angelica and I get in, the curtain comes back down.

“What the hell?” asks Josh.

“I’m not sharing my kingdom with you, sheep. No one busts into Eli’s mall. And don’t even try to escape.”

“We weren’t trying to escape, you brainless leprechaun!” This is unbelievable, I swear, I just want out of this day, “We’re running away from the monster that's on your side! You won’t make it on your own against Triumph, he’ll find a way to get in and eat you”

“Every door is locked or booby-trapped.” A laugh distracts us from the discussion and I see Wesley next to Eli... on the other side.

“Booby,” He chuckles. He’s been smoking, so you can’t expect him to behave.

Eli groans. Josh steps closer and smirks.

“Wesley Fists lead the state in sacks last season. Take him out, Samurai.”

“To fight someone so obviously inferior would be dishonorable.” He raises a brow. Eli shows us both of his middle fingers.

“Great,” I throw my backpack on the floor and walk away from the curtain, “this is only getting better and better...” 

“One punch, Wesley, come on,” Josh insists, “one punch.”

I let out a sharp breath and sit on the bench a few feet away from them to take off my skates. As useful as they are, I’m starting to feel sore and they’re not the most comfortable thing to wear after a few hours of running. While I’m doing so, another memory comes to mind and I’m unable to stop it.

Where was I? Oh, right...

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

“I think these are more you’re style,” I grab the bright, lime-green pair from the right shelf and hand them to Alex, he laughs and examines them for a moment like he’s actually considering the idea.

“I mean, they wouldn’t match any of my outfits but they’d totally be catching everyone’s eye.”

“Isn’t that the point, though?”

“Obviously,” He shakes his head pretending to be offended by the question, “though I think I’ll have to pass this time. I already made my choice.”

He shows me a pair of white-colored ones.

“Dude, are you serious?” I grab the skates and raise them to his eye level, “These are the most boring pair of skates ever”

“Now they are,” Alex moves my hand slightly so he can see my face, “but I bet that you can turn them into a masterpiece”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Please, Y/N don’t play dumb, you know I love your drawings”

I blush at his reply. Sure, I like drawing but I’m no Van Gogh at it. The best thing I ever drew was probably a worm.

“You’re telling me you’d spend your money on the newest model of skates just to ruin them with your best friend’s nonexistent skills?”

“To me, their value would go up by a thousand if they had your drawings in them.”

“Jesus, get a room!” Maya exclaims beside us, she’s sitting on a small chair, trying random pairs of skates out of pure boredom.

“Shut up!” We both respond quickly. 

He looks at me and I’m pretty sure he’s blushin but I can’t really look at his face cause I’m too embarrassed to do so.

Oh, right. I forgot to mention that I had a crush on my best friend, didn’t I? No, I wasn’t avoiding this topic. I thought it wasn’t important anymore. And it isn’t! I promise it isn’t. Alex is gone, and with him so are my feelings.

Yes, you can laugh all you want cause I was one of those basic idiots who fell in love with their best friend just cause he treats me like any decent human being should. Can you blame me, though? Compared to Hoyles and his team of dickheads, Alex was a fucking teddy bear. 

And the worst part? I’m pretty sure he liked me back. 

We never made a move.

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

A loud scream makes me drop my broken skates and I run back to were Angelica and Josh are.

“What the fuck...” I whisper, clinging to the curtain.

“What the fuck is here with us?” Angelica is the first to ask what Josh and I were wondering as well.

“Ooh, a ghoulie witch,” Eli steps closer, lowering his voice, “once upon a time, she was a normal girl who liked hanging out at the mall. But now she’s got mad powers, and she will fuck your shit up. She is unkillable and she is hangry.”

“There is no such thing as witches.”

“Well, a few months ago there weren’t mutant squirrels or ghoulies either.” Adds Angelica.

“That’s right. And when the witch eats your intestines like spaghetti, you’ll think: I never should’ve dissed king Eli...” He walks backwards and leaves us here with fuck knows what.

“I swear every time he opens his mouth I feel like I’m having a stroke,” Now that I don’t have my skates on, I realize Josh’s taller than me. I barely reach the tip of his nose.

“Don’t worry, I’ll convince him to let you out.” Wesley says, “I’mma go full Gandhi on his ass. Hunger strike.”

“Easy there, we don’t want to traumatize him for life” I reply dryly.

Angelica and Josh step back from the curtain and I follow them. We sit on the bench and I look at my skates, cursing under my breath. Josh notices and gently nudges my side with his arm.

“Sorry about that. We can find a new pair somewhere around here if you want.”

“I hope so,” I kick them and they slide miserably on the floor, the wheels almost fully worn out, “I really liked them.”

“You used to skate a lot? Before the nuke,” He asks in curiosity.

“Not at all. I didn’t even know how to use them,” I laugh lightly, “my best friend used to, though. He promised he would teach me one day but... things didn’t go as planned.”

“Is he..?” He leaves the question open but I understand perfectly what he’s trying to say.

“Fuck, no,” I feel a shiver going down my spine just by thinking about it, “we wanted different things, that’s all. He had a plan and I had another. Alex wanted to leave town and travel around the country now that we’re free to do whatever we please. I just wanted to find my sister.”

“And where is she?”

“She turned into a ghoulie, so I... I took care of it.”

“Shit,” He whispers, passing a hand through his hair and looking a little pale, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Again, I’m not gonna talk about this stuff with someone I just met.

“Did I ever meet your friend?” Maybe Josh can tell I don’t want to keep going with the hard topics, and I appreciate his effort to respect that.

“Dunno,” I shrug, softly massaging my feet, “He’s Alex Murphy. Bit taller than me, cool guy...”

“Oh, him,” He nods, then adds, “I have no clue of who that is.”

I laugh louder this time, giving him a gentle push.

“Dumbass,” I shake my head, “anyway, after Alex and I went our separate ways I decided to learn on my own and I think I did pretty well, they’re quieter than cars and definitely easier to control than skateboards.”

“Oh, so you’re still not over that?” He raises a brow, a smirk growing on his face.

“Well, I’m not the one running over innocent people on the street.”

“It was an accident! I wasn’t watching where I was going. I was too busy trying not to get killed by the jocks”

“You sure? Cause so far all I’ve seen you do is nothing but the opposite. If I may give my humble opinion, it's not something very smart considering you’re alone.”

“I was doing well until today,” He sighs.

“I believe you, Wheeler,” I eye him up, “you're not like I'd pictured.”

“Really?” He smiles, “What did you imagine?”

“Kinda like those boys who pretend to be all grown up,” I reply, scrunching up my nose, “the ones that can’t be caught having fun or they’d lose their cool, like some sort of bitter old man in the body of a seventeen-year-old boy...”

“Okay, okay! I get it,” Josh laughs, raising his hands in defeat, “jeez, thanks for the compliments”

“I am complimenting you!” I exclaim, “I’m saying I was wrong and you’re not what I thought you were”

“You did think I was, though”

“Well, at least I had an opinion on you,” I scoff, “I’m sure you didn’t even think of that after we did our school project, I probably just stopped existing in your world or something...”

“Of course not,” It was his time to act offended, “every time I saw you on the hall after our project I made sure to wave at you, remember?”

“How kind of you”

“What can I say? I’m a real-life gentleman.”

I laugh again and pull my shoes out of my bag to put them on.

“Is that the reason why Sam Dean fell head over heels for you?”

The effect was immediate. Josh’s shoulders tense and his smile disappears, he clears his throat and looks anywhere but me.

“Uhm, I don’t really know if she...”

“It’s alright,” I add promptly, “sorry, I didn’t mean to make you sad”

“I’m not sad,” He shakes his head, “it’s just that I keep thinking... maybe things could’ve been different if I had said something sooner, you know?”

Trust me, Josh. I know.

Taglist.

@letsbloodmagic 

#twoidiots writing #josh wheeler #josh wheeler xreader #wesley fists #eli cardashyan #angelica green #daybreak #netflix #Starcrossed fic #daybreak fanfic

[disasterdeacy]

Forbidden Fruit: Part One

A/N: This is going to be the first of a two part series! Hopefully I will have Part Two out in the next week or so, because I’m travelling to Australia this coming Thursday so I have a lot of prep, but hopefully I’ll have some time to write up part two in the next few days or while en route! Just let me know what y’all think of this one, and remember to reblog and comment! Pairing: 1998!Brian May x Reader Word Count: 7.5k Summary: Y/N is Jimmy May’s best friend in the entire world. So when she’s unable to return home for the 4th of July, he does what any good friend would and offers to have her come stay with him at his Dad’s place for the weekend, the whole thing culminating in a BBQ that would rival any her family ever threw. Little does Brian, or Y/N, know, this weekend will be memorable for more reasons than the burgers and sparklers.  Warnings: Infidelity, Age Gap, 18+, Y’all This is Just Disgusting I’m Sorry

To say that Y/N was having a bad day, would be like saying that there were a few people living in London. An understatement of the highest degree. The 20 year old Archaeology student was lying face down on the floor of the living,to of the flat that she shared with her best friend Jimmy, an Enya CD playing at full blast from the boom box near the fireplace. That’s how Jimmy May found her when he returned home from his final lecture of the semester.

The sight made him chuckle as he sat his book bag down, before walking over to Y/N and lying down beside her on his back, hands crossed over his chest. The two young students had been best friends since their very first day of university 2 years prior, when Y/N, an Archaeology and Medieval History major from America in need of friends, was assigned to sit beside Jimmy May, an undecided major from London who was also in desperate need of friends.

Y/N had stuck out her hand for him to shake, a bright smile on her face, her brows furrowing in confusion when he’d just stared at her hand. “Oh shit, y’all do shake hands right?”

Jimmy had just laughed loudly and nodded, taking her hand in his and shaking firmly, seemingly solidifying their friendship. While most people assumed they were together romantically, the sheer thought of that made bile rise in the the two young adults throats. They did love one another, but their relationship was nothing more than that of siblings, and that’s exactly how they wanted it to stay.

 Y/N groaned when she felt Jimmy lie down beside her, knowing that he was waiting for her to explain why she was having a slight mental breakdown in the middle of the living room.

“Can’t go back to the States for the Summer, which means I’m not going to be able to be with my family on the 4th..”

 She had received a call from her parents earlier that day saying that they’d not been able to get her a plane ticket for her trip home, which meant that she was stuck in York for the remainder of the summer.

Y/N didn’t exactly mind this, she loved York, loved being in the UK, but she also had never not been home for her family’s annual 4th of July BBQ, aka her favorite part of the year.

Her aunt and uncle had a huge pool, so the entire family would pile into their house and spend the whole day gorging on watermelon and burgers, veggie for her, and getting sun poisoning while her grandmother made homemade ice cream. The fireworks were her favorite part though, and Y/N and her younger cousin would always sit in the pool in their doughnut floats and watch as their dad’s and uncles attempted to light the fuses without managing to blow off a limb. It was her absolute favorite thing in the entire world and now she wasn’t going to get to experience it, all because of a mix up with the airline.

 Jimmy knew how important Y/N's annual trip to see her family was, the promise of seeing her family was the only thing that helped her get past the final semester of classes, now that had been taken from her, and it broke Jimmy's heart. Sitting up, he reaches over, rolling his best friend onto her back, frowning when he sees the forlorn look on your face.

"Shit love, are you alright?"

Y/N just sighs, a sad smile on her face.  She was completely heartbroken and beyond upset, but she knew it wasn't anybody's fault, you can't control when an airline cancels your ticket the day before you're supposed to leave.

"Its alright dude, shit happens, shit sucks, but it happens."

She had always been more of a glass half full kind of person, and this situation could be so much worse, so Y/N wasn't about to complain. She was still going to see them in December, and hey, at least she still had family to go see.

The two were quiet for a while, Y/N on her back staring at the ceiling, Jimmy sitting straight up, chin in his hands, a look of concentration on his face.

Y/N knew that look all to well, and she didn't like it at all. It meant Jimmy was thinking, and when Jimmy was thinking, and things happened. Sitting up alongside her best friend, Y/N raises her eyebrows, suspicious look in her eyes.

"You're thinking really loud Jim, what's up?"

He laughs, jumping off of the floor and running to the kitchen before she can question him further.

If Y/N had known what Jimmy was doing in the kitchen in that moment, she probably would've tackled the phone away from him and forbade him from ever using it again...

 Windlesham, Surrey

3 July 1998

 Jimmy had neglected to tell Y/N just how insanely large his dad’s house was. Sure, she’d figured it was going to be relatively large, it was the house of a rockstar, she didn’t expect it to look like it belonged to a CPA from Chester.

However, this was on another level of insanity.  It was an absolutely gorgeous Tudor revival style home with at least 10 bedrooms rooms, situated on a few acres of land, a pool smack dab in the middle of the spacious back yard. This was honesty her dream home.

Jimmy laughed at his best friend’s slack jawed appearance beside him, taking her bag from her as they ascended the stairs.

“Trying to catch some flies love?”

Y/N only reached over and smacked him on the shoulder the same way she did her brother anytime he decided to be a brat.

“I doubt there’s ever been a single fly in this house before James.”

She rarely used his whole name, saving it for moments like this when he was seriously grinding the last root of her final nerve, and she barely had a nerve left for him to grind... all of them were currently being used to try and keep her from throwing up the lunch her and Jimmy had eaten in Cambridge.

Why was she so nervous again? Oh right, because she was stood outside Brian May's house, where she would be staying for the next week, because her best friend, who also happens to be his son, decided that the best course of action to cure her small sadness was to ask his father to host them and throw a BBQ to rival Y/N's family's.

Brian had enthusiastically agreed to his son's idea, having never met the young woman who he couldn't seem to shut up about.  For a long while, the older man had assumed that the two youngsters were together, but after asking Louisa about it after she'd met Y/N at Chrissy's and received a loud laugh in return, he was positive that they were only the closest of friends, with a relationship more akin to the one Jimmy had with Louisa and Emily.

Sadly, he wasn't home at the exact moment the two arrived, which caused  Y/N to sigh in relief.  She didn't even know who Jimmy's dad was until the two had been friends for almost 6 months, only finding out when she met his sister Louisa when she came to visit and began to talk about an Uncle Roger and Uncle John. To be honest Y/N had felt like a bit of an idiot for not making the connection, knowing that his dad was a musician and his name was May, but Jimmy had just laughed loudly as the realization hit. He still teased her to no end about it, and had been taking her as they entered the house, cackling as she slapped his arm when he asked if she was going to pass out when she met him.

"Oh fuck you Jimmy, it's not funny!"

Y/N had been embarrassed enough when she found out that her best friend was Brian May's son, mainly because of the times she'd completely fangirled over Queen, Brian in particular, in front of Jimmy, and now he was just eating up the fact that she was about to meet him. He'd even placed a bet with Louisa on how long she could last without losing consciousness.

"Don't know love, it's pretty fucking funny to me. My sweet innocent little best friend wants to fu-"

Thankfully a green human shaped blur tackled Y/N to the ground, surprising Jimmy enough to stop him talking before he could finish his sentence.

Laughing loudly as she hit the ground, Y/N wrapped her arms around what she assumed was Louisa, only to find out that it was the youngest May, who was laughing just has hard, her arms firmly around the older woman's waist.

"Em! God, You're getting strong, and, a-are you wet?

Y/N laughed even harder when she saw that the 11 year old was wrapped in a lime green beach towel, water dripping from her dark curls onto Y/N's previously pristine white sun dress.  Emily just laughed and nodded against her friend's chest.

" Yeah! Lou and I were swimming when we heard the car pull up, and I missed you so I just jumped out and ran in. "

She was talking 1,000,000 miles a minute, which wasn't exactly weird for an 11 year old girl, but it still caused Y/N to laugh.

"Did you trail in half the pool while you were at it?"

Y/N nodded towards the puddles of water standing on the tiles of the kitchen floor, giggling when the young girl scurried off of her lap, cursing quietly as she unwrapped her towel from around her to clean up the mess, allowing Jimmy to pull his best friend from the floor.

"Why don't you let your brother do that so you can show me the pool?"

Wiggling her eyebrows at Emily, Y/N extended her hand to her, smiling widely when the 11 year old accepted it happily, throwing her towel at Jimmy before she pulled Y/N out the patio door and towards the pool.

Like the rest of the house that she'd seen, the pool was amazingly ornate. Pure white stone lined the path to it, and surrounded the edge of the crystal blue waters where Louisa was lounging on a pink float. The diving board and slide were just begging to be used, but seeing as how she was in a dress, Y/N resisted the urge to utilize either one of them.

Despite being absolutely pressing petrified to meet Brian, Y/N was overjoyed to see the girls again. She hasn't seen the two youngest May kids since November the year before when their mom had invited Y/N to her home for a little Thanksgiving dinner since she hadn't had one in 2 years. Chrissy was an actual Angel and Y/N had never felt so welcome before, that week had been one that she would always remember fondly, and she just hoped that this one would also go down in her memory bank.

Laughing loudly as Emily jumped into the pool right beside Louisa, absolutely saturating her with water, Y/N sat down on the edge of the pool watching as the older girl dunked her little sister under the water, screaming bloody murder the whole time. The noise from the two girls was so loud that Y/N didn't hear the tell tell noise of a car pulling up, nor the sound of a door opening, nor the sound of feet running up to her.

One minute she had been yelling at Emily to "fight like a girl!" and the next she was underwater, eyes burning with the sting of the chlorinated water.

Popping up out of the water gasping in shock, Y/N started treading water, glaring at the side of the pool where Jimmy was stood laughing like a goddamn hyena, well it looked vaguely like Jimmy, she couldn't exactly tell with her eyes squinted like they were.

"JAMES MAY YOU ABSOLUTE CUNT!"

She yelled out, voice full of amusement despite the angry words. Louisa and Emily were also laughing, holding onto the pink float for dear life as they watched Y/N flail around, brushing her hair from her eyes as she yelled at their brother.

The two girls started to swim over to her, trying to assist their friend, when they noticed the tall figure of their dad walking towards the pool, an amused look on his face.

Brian had just returned home from the shops when he'd heard the ear piercing scream coming from the pool, and he immediately slipped into dad mode, dropping the bags in the kitchen before taking off towards the pool, fearing the worst.

Only when he stepped onto the back patio and heard a very distinct American accent did he smile and breathe a little. He had been looking forward to the arrival of his son and the American girl who had some how managed to teach Jimmy how to properly fold is socks and boil an egg, but when he'd woke that morning to find the fridge completely empty and his daughter's "dying of starvation", Brian groaned and headed out to the shops, determined to be back in time to meet Y/N when she and Jimmy arrived. However, Anita had insisted on coming with him, and that had turned what would've been a 20 minute excursion into a 2 hour social call.

Now, he was slowly approaching the pool, arms crossed over his chest, eyebrows raised in amusement as the curses that were being thrown at his son reached his ears. Well, the girl certainly had a mouth on her.

" I swear to god Jimmy, when I get out of this goddamn pool, your skinny little ass is MINE! "

Y/N was expecting an equally abusive retort from Jimmy who was stood in front of her from what she could see past her hair, not a loud laugh from her left.

Jerking her head over to the source of the noise, Y/N managed to swallow a sizeable amount of water, coughing loudly before swimming over to the side of the pool closest to her, which just so happened to be the side from where the laugh had come from.

Clutching onto the side of the pool, she began to attempt to lift herself out, not realizing that she had to actually have upper body strength to be able to do any sort of physical activity.

Brian couldn't exactly get a good look at the girl swimming towards him until she was struggling at the side, her pitiful attempts to lift herself out making him laugh louder. Jimmy was doubled over beside the lounge chairs on the other side of the diving board, Louisa and Emily holding onto the pink float laughing equally as hard. Deciding to be a decent human being, Brian bends down, still laughing, and grabbed her hands.

"Right then love, up ya get."

He immediately regretted his actions upon seeing her...state of dress. Brian’s eyes widened when he took in the soaking wet young girl’s appearance, she was absolutely drop dead gorgeous. Her hair was dripping wet, flat against her face, but he could still tell that it was thick and beautiful. Her eyes had yet to meet his as she attempted to steady herself on the pavement, a small laugh falling from her mouth as she glared over at Jimmy.

Shit, even her laugh was beautiful.

Brian's eyes then drifted naturally down, cock responding fast to the images that his hazel eyes were sending to his brain. This young woman, this 20 year old girl, his son’s best friend, was wearing what had at some point before her trip into the water, probably been a very pretty white sundress. Now, however, the fabric was clinging to her skin, exposing every single curve, lump, and bump on her body... and more over, exposed the dark green fabric of her bra and light blue fabric of her panties.. for some reason, the fact that she wasn’t wearing matching underwear made him smile, showed that she was still a young woman, someone who wasn’t concerned with matching her panties to her bra.. he liked it a lot. Shaking his head a little in self disgust, Brian gently dropped Y/N’s hands, not wanting to seem creepy.

 The action jerked Y/N from glaring at Jimmy, her eyes looking up at the person who’d helped her out of the pool for the first time since she’d been “rescued”. She didn’t know what she was expecting when she looked up, I mean, who else could’ve been the one to pull her out of the pool but Brian?

However, the moment her eyes met Brian’s, Y/N swears her entire body sets alight.

Ever since she was a young girl, around 10, she’d had the biggest crush imaginable on the curly haired guitarist. Her mom was a massive Queen fan and had facilitated her daughter’s love of the band, and Brian, and had bought her absolutely any poster, album, T-shirt, anything she wanted.. god, if her mom could see her now. Eyes wide, Y/N took in the appearance of the man in front of her.

Shit, he was hot.

Sure he was almost 51 years old, 31 years her senior, but she would’ve never known just from his looks, he was as beautiful a man as she’d ever seen, and the hormones coursing through her body as his eyes stared into her’s were enough to kill a goddamn horse. His hair was still as dark as ever, famous curls bouncy and framing his face perfectly. And god, his FACE... He had aged like a fine burgundy, and much like her favorite red, his gaze was leaving her feeling warm and slightly dizzy.

There were a few well placed smile lines around his eyes, which were on full display as he smiled down at the young woman, eyebrow cocked at her wide eyed expression, a look which caused a red hot blush to erupt onto her face and all down her chest.. Fuck, she might as well have been naked standing in front of him with as much as her dress was covering.

His eyes were dark, predatory almost, as he looked down at her expectedly. The young woman simply cleared her throat, smiling shyly up at the older man, sticking her hand out to him.

"This certainly wasn't what I was imagining our first introduction to be Mr. May, but thank you for rescuing me."

Brian waved away Y/N's hand, instead electing to wrap his arms around her, pulling her into a hug, his hands trying to disobey his mind and move further down her body.

"What kind of gentleman would I be if I let a beautiful young woman like you drown! The men of Britain would never forgive me."

Y/N laughed, a shaky little thing it was, but honestly nobody in their right mind could blame her for the instability in her voice, not when a black tank top clad Brian May's hands were dangerously close to her ass,and with her dress being soaking wet like it was, she could almost feel the callouses on his fingertips against her skin.

"Um, thank you Mr. May... but, I don't think the men of Britain would dare do anything to harm you. You're a national treasure."

It was Brian's turn to blush, something he hasn't done in a few decades,but for some reason the attention from this gorgeous young woman was making him feel things he hadn't felt in a long, long, time. Chuckling, Brian reluctantly pulls away from the hug, remembering that his children were watching the two of them, and that Anita was only a couple hundred yards away inside the house.

"Now that is some high praise coming from you Y/N. I can see why Jimmy had kept you hidden from all of us heathens..."

Turning towards his son, Brian's hand brushes down Y/N's  shoulders, coming to rest at the small of her back, fingers splaying out as wide as they could. He was desperate for as much contact with her as possible, and if absolutely disgusted him to no end.

Jimmy took great offense to his dad's comment, claiming that he wasn't hiding Y/N away from the May family, simply "protecting them" from her insanity. Had it not been for Brian's hand seemingly burning into her skin, she probably would've retorted with something equally as witty and biting, but in that moment, the poor woman couldn't even remember what color the sky above her was, much less think of something sarcastic to say to her best friend.

Luckily, she didn't have to think of anything, as the patio door opened a few seconds late and Anita walked out carrying a large coal colored towel, a smile on her face.

It made Y/N sick to her stomach.

Not because she didn't like Anita, no she rather liked her to be quite honest, but the thoughts running through her head about the woman's partner were obscene. Never once in her 20 years on Earth had she ever thought that she would be in this situation...not that she was in any situation at all, yet. But if Brian didn't remove his hands from her back soon,Y/N was going to abandon all of her morality and fuck her best friend's dad, partner or not.

Thankfully, Brian noticed Anita and quickly, albeit reluctantly, removed his hands from Y/N's back, electing to shove them into his pockets to avoid raising any suspicion from the red haired woman walking towards the pool.

"I've brought you a towel love! Seems like Jimmy would have at least had a little foresight to collect one for you before he decided to send you for a swim."

Anita was smiling from ear to ear, swiftly wrapping the plush fabric around Y/N's shivering shoulders, bringing her in to place a small kiss to her cheek in greeting.

"You poor dear! You're absolutely quivering!"

Oh she didn't even know the half of it...

"Bri, love, take the poor girl to her room and let her get warmed up, that fabric might look amazing when dry, but when wet, it's absolutely useless."

The older woman then turned her back to the two and headed back to the house after giving Jimmy a rather stern look, which he simply rolled his eyes at.

Wrapping the towel around her shoulders tightly as she could, Y/N chuckled a little, she wasn't cold at all, in fact she was absurdly warm. The shuddering of her shoulders, shaking of her hands, had been caused by a wetness, just not the one Anita had thought.

Brian's mind had gone straight for the gutter as soon as his girlfriend had suggested he take Y/N to her room, imagining her creamy legs thrown over his shoulders, cunt pulsing against his tongue. Fuck, he needed to stop, his jeans were tight enough as it was without the added strain of a swollen cock.

Clearing his throat, Brian slaps a smile onto his face, turning to Y/N, extending his arm for her to take.

"You heard the missus love, let's get you out of those wet clothes. "

He wasn't sure if he had genuinely meant for his words to sound so suggestive, but when he looks over at Y/N 's face and sees the scarlet blush covering her skin, Brian can't help but send the young woman a wink, unaware that he had just managed to decreased her life expectancy by a good 7.4 months.

Trying to act completely unaffected by Brian's actions, Y/N happily accepts his arm allowing him to lead her up the trail from the pool towards the house. The back of the house was just as gorgeous as the front, the Tudor style architecture even more grand than the bits in the front. Looking up just a little, Y/N gives Brian a gentle, somewhat shy, smile.

"I absolutely adore your house Mr. May, the style is one of my favorites."

Gaining just a bit more confidence, Y/N allows herself to scoot closer to Brian, until her hip is right against his as they ascend the stairs. The action seems innocent enough, but Brian knows differently, he's seen this move countless times over the years, and seeing this beautiful young woman, who he absolutely should not be thinking of in the way that he was, use it? While excited that she might not mind him being so close and intimate, he's still felt a bit disgusted and ashamed of himself for thinking the things he was..

Still, her innocent little compliment about the house made him smile down at her, canines grazing his bottom lip as he does so.

"Thank you dear. It's not too shabby, four walls and a place to lay my head down at night."

The two share a little laugh as they enter the house, Y/N reluctantly removing herself from his side so he could open the door for her.

"I'd say it's a bit more than four walls Mr. May, it's absolutely stunning, and I can only hope to live somewhere like this one day."

She's not actively trying to butter him up, but when Y/N sees the slight blush on his face at her compliments, she can't help it.

Brian knows he's as red as a beet, he can't even hide it, but the young woman's compliments were just having an effect on him that he didn't foresee. He wanted her to keep giving him compliments, to keep paying him as much attention as humanly possible.

The older man shoots Y/N a wink, bending over to grab her suitcase from the kitchen floor where she's dropped it when Emily had come barreling into her. Y/N tries to protest, insisting that she's perfectly capable of carrying her own bag, which Brian simply smiles at.

"Oh I have no doubt about your abilities my dear, but my Mum didn't raise me to allow a young lady to carry her own luggage."

He gives her a gentle smile, walking back over to her and placing his hand on the small of her back, lightly pushing her in the direction of the stairs. The two are quiet during the walk to the stairs, Y/N too busy trying not to pass out to speak. Brian, however, is desperate to learn more about the young American.

"So love, Jimmy said you're an Archaeology student? How in the world did you pick that up living all the way across the pond? "

He's genuinely curious, Y/N can tell, and that makes her heart feel as if it's going to burst right out of her chest. Pausing at the bottom of the stairs, she smiles brightly, a small laugh escaping from her throat.

"My mom is a history professor at the university back home, and when I was younger she took me to Scotland because she was supervising on a dig, and I just fell in love with it. Medieval archaeology is a lot less explored than classical, so that gives me a whole world of possibilities. There's just so much history  that we've yet to unearth, and god, there's just so many stories that haven't been told yet. There's something about being the first person to hold an object in hundreds of years that just makes me tingle. "

Y/N was so focused on her little spiel about archaeology that she didn't notice Brian's intense gaze, because if she had, she probably would've melted into the floor.

If Brian had thought that he was infatuated with this young woman before, hearing her speak so passionately and intensely about Archaeology, seeing the sparkle in her she when she mentioned telling the stories of the forgotten, he was thoroughly invested now. She wasn't just a pretty face and an incredible body, no, she was intelligent, articulate, a scholar, just like him, and it only made him want her more.

She looked up at Brian when she finished speaking, heart pounding when she noticed the look he's giving her. Laughing bashfully, Y/N runs a hand through her hair, wincing just a little in embarassment.

"God, I sound like such a nerd don't I?"

Y/N had always been insanely self conscious about her intelligence, and had been greatly admonished for flaunting it when she was younger, and did God's sake she was talking to Brian May, one of the most intelligent men alive.

Brian only laughed lightly, reaching over to brush a strand of hair behind her ear.

"I'm a nerd too love, so you're in good company."

Letting his hand fall down to her shoulder, Brian clears his throat, a little taken aback by his own actions. Y/N just smiled at his touch, heart still beating wildly.

"You're just being sweet Mr. May..."

She trails off, hands clutching the corners of the towel around her shoulders, her fingers dangerously close to his.

Brian's breath hitches in his throat, eyes never leaving hers. He knows that he could stay like this all day, staring into her eyes. They were gorgeous, just like everything else about her, so innocent and full of curiosity, he wanted nothing more than to see them wide underneath him as he fucked deep and fast inside of her, making them clench shut in pleasure as he brought her to her peak...

"Um, why don't I show you your room yeah? That way we can get you out of those wet clothes."

He's desperately trying to suppress the feelings that he was experiencing, wanting to just put Y/N in her room so that he could just breathe. Moving his hand back down her back, Brian smiles down at Y/N, pushing her gently up the stairs ahead of him.

Y/N let out a small laugh, nodding her head before heading up the stairs, swaying her hips a bit more than she usually would've, but who could blame her? She had her childhood crush, a goddamn rock legend, behind her, leading her up the stairs of his home. Plus, the wet fabric of her dress was tight against her ass, so she knew that Brian was getting a show.

Brian had to bite his bottom lip to keep from letting the moan that threatened to escape out, his eyes trained to Y/N's  ass as his hand gripped the handle of her suitcase so hard his knuckles turned white. Fucking hell, her ass looked like it was made for him, fat and jiggling with every step. Her hips were swaying just enough to tease him, making his cock swell in his skinny jeans, fuck he should've worn something less constricting.

Thankfully it doesn't take too long to reach the top of the stairs, and Y/N halts her movements, waiting for Brian to reach her and guide her to her room. Originally, Brian had thought to have her stay in the room beside Louisa's, but now that he's met her, now that he was fully lusting over her... He wanted her closer. Smiling down at her, Brian takes the lead, walking one door down from him and Anita's room, pushing the door open with his hip.

"Here we are love, home sweet home."

Y/N laughed lightly at Brian's words, taking in the room. The bed was large, way larger than her own bed back in York, light colored wooden drawers lined the wall, and a beside table of the same material was on the right side of the bed. It was obviously a guest room, but it was still extremely nice, and Y/N felt perfectly at home.

"Its beautiful Mr. May, thank you so much for letting me stay here, you have no idea how much it means to me."

She was being as sincere as humanly possible, even without the obvious interest that Brian had taken in her that made her heart and cunt throb, the fact that Brian had been so welcoming and open with her made Y/N feel extremely happy and less homesick.

Brian let's out a happy sigh at her words, placing her suitcase on the bed before sitting down on the bed and patting the spot beside him, beckoning her to join him. Y/N happily accepts and has to stop herself from practically running to him, gently sitting down beside him, hands in her lap. Her obvious interest in him made Brian feel young again, made his hands sweaty and his brain foggy.

It also made him feel far bolder than he usually would have.

Reaching over, Brian takes Y/N's hand in his, turning it over so her palm was facing the ceiling, before tracing his fingers over the soft skin, eyes trained on his movements.

"You don't have to thank me love, you're Jimmy's best friend, he loves you as much as he loves Lou and Em, so I as far as I'm concerned, you're family.."

His voice is soft and assured, just like his movements against Y/N's skin.

"Although, I have to admit, if I'd known how stunning you were, I would've asked Jimmy to bring you around sooner..."

He knows that he's being inappropriate, that she might not take his advances in the way he was hoping, but he had to try, wanted to try...

Y/N is in shock at his actions and words, not a bad shock, just, pure and genuine shock. His calloused fingertips feel like heaven on her palm, movements gentle and deliberate.

"I-I.. stunning? Mr. May, I'm n-,"

She isn't even able to finish her statement before Brian's lips are on her neck, featgerlight movements causing the young woman to let out a qtuiet whimper.

"Brian... Call me Brian, Y/N."

His hands move to her thigh, thumb rubbing circles onto the delicate skin as he moves back, standing up off of the bed, smirking at the noise of surprise that escapes Y/N's mouth.

"B-Brian..."

Her voice is weak, eyes wide in desperation, begging for him to continue. He'd given her a taste of him, a fraction of what was to come, and as much as she liked what she got, she hated being teased.

Brian smirks, leaning forward, hands on either side of her thighs, eyes dark and full of mischief. As much as he wanted to just go ahead and fuck her into next week, he knew he couldn't, at least not here... Not now.

Placing a kiss to her cheek, closer to her lips than her cheek, Brian stands straight up, walking towards the door, speaking loudly, as if to throw the scent off of what the compromising position they'd just been in.

"Dinner will be ready soon love, I'll send Jimmy to get you when it's finished. Mine and Anita's room is right next to you, so if you need anything tonight, don't hesitate to ask."

His voice lowers, more intimately.

"Absolutely anything..."

Sending Y/N a wink, he taps the door frame and walks from the room, still smirking widely. Y/N is breathless on the bed, completely dumbfounded by what had just happened.

She somehow manages to change out of her dress and brush her hair, slipping on a new bra and underwear under a yellow sundress. Her eyes are still wide, breathing shaky when Jimmy comes.to get her for dinner, not even noticing how shook his best friend was.

Dinner went by without a hitch, Brian was relatively silent, stealing small glances at Y/N while she laughed and joked with his kids, throwing her head back in laughter every time Jimmy would bring up something regarding some party in Nottingham. He didn't hear a damn thing regarding the party, focused solely on the creamy skin of her neck, remembering how soft it was under his lips, imagining how it would feel to sink his teeth into it...

He was so focused on his fantasies that he didn't notice the four run off upstairs as soon as they'd placed their dishes in the sink, only becoming aware of their absence when Emily came bounding back down the stairs, running out the patio door dressed in her swimsuit, followed by her brother and sister, and finally Y/N.

His head pops up when he hears her asking Anita if she needed any help with the dishes, his mouth going dry when he takes in her appearance.

She'd changed out of her sundress, and into a black one piece that accentuated every single curve of her body.

Anita had adamantly refused to allow the young woman to help any, stating that Brian was washing the dishes tonight, and that guests didn't do household chores, which made Y/N chuckle before she nodded her head and headed out of the patio door, turning around to steal a final glance at Brian, smirking as she noticed the deep blush on his chest.

He had always liked having the window over the sink overlooking the pool, in the past it had given him the ability to keep an eye on the kids, which gave him a sense of security. However, it was now only giving him a fucking hard on as he watched Y/N play in the pool.

Brian knew this was wrong, knew he shouldn’t be feeling this way, that he shouldn’t be looking at his son’s 20 year old best friend in the way he was... But seeing her straddling the diving board of the pool, her fat ass barely being contained by the black one piece she was wearing, her thick thighs jiggling every time she laughed and threw her head back.. the way her breasts.. god, her large, perfect, delicious breasts seemed to spill out of the top of the nylon fabric..

 It was a wonder he hadn’t cum in his pants yet, just watching her swim and play around with his daughters.. it was borderline perverse, he was SPYING on her.

 That’s not how it had started out, but the dishes had been washed and rinsed for going on 20 minutes, and the whole time he has just been stood at the window, slack jawed and leaking cum all over the silky fabric of his athletic shorts that he had changed into after their encounter in the guestroom. 

 The straw that ended up breaking the camels back for Brian, what caused him to break down and sprint to the bathroom to take care of himself before anything embarrassing happened, was Y/N standing up off of the diving board, bending over in a mock bow before jumping straight into the water, laughing loudly as she swam over to the ladder, stepping up out of the pool... water dripping down her body, her PERFECT body.. curvy waist, hips that Brian was desperate to bruise with his fingertips, tits that were begging for his mouth, thighs that he needed to smother him while he feasted on her cunt, an ass that deserved to be spanked raw.. all covered and dripping in water, teasing Brian, making him feel progressively more horny with every drop he could see fall between the valley of her breast, and as such, made him feel progressively more disgusted with himself..

 But he didn’t care, he wanted Y/N, needed her, but he couldn’t have her.. not right now at least... his hand would have to do for the time being, until he could get her properly.. and based on the teasing wink she sent his way through the window, it wouldn’t be too long now.You

Outside, Y/N had been putting on a show for Brian, trying her best to make herself appear as appealing as possible on the diving board. When she pulled herself out of the pool, her eyes immediately went to the window, a wide smile pulling at her features when she sees Brian move from her view after she sends him a wink.

Her mom had raised her to be bold, to go after what she wanted, and that's exactly what she did.

Turning her head towards the four people at the pool, Anita had joined them a few minutes after Y/N had walked outside, the young woman quickly mentions running inside to go to the bathroom. Jimmy made a comment about just going behind the bushes, to which Louisa had thrown a beach ball at his head for.

Y/N chuckled and ran towards the house, excitement and anticipation building in her stomach, the feeling bubbling over when she closed the patio door behind her. Heading up the stairs, she tip toes towards the closed restroom door, mouth dropping slightly as she heard the obscene and obvious noises of Brian jerking off inside. Smirking, an idea popped into her head,  so she ran off to her room, grabbing her discarded underwear before returning to her spot beside the door, eagerly waiting for

Inside the restroom Brian was lost in his pleasure, one hand wrapped firmly around his aching cock, shorts not even pulled down, his cock simply pulled out above the waistband. His other hand was clutching the counter top hard, eyes clenched tightly shut as he imagined that his hand was  Y/N's tight cunt clenching around him. He runs his thumb over the tip of his cock, letting out a small whimper at the immeasurable pleasure he was feeling. Yes, he was absolutely disgusted with himself, jacking off to the image of his son's 20 year old best friend coming apart underneath him, her head thrown back in ecstasy as his cock hammered in and out of her.. But he didn't fucking care. He and Anita hasn't been doing too well recently, and as such, he'd not had sex in quite a few months.  But, even without the issues with Anita, Brian was certain that he would still be in the same position; his cock throbbing in his hand as he threatened to spill his seed into the sink of his bathroom.

It didn't take him very long before his balls tightened painfully, and rope after rope of hot cum spurred from his cock, painting the grey marble of the sink white as snow. The noises that came from his mouth were absolutely pathetic, whiny and bitch like, and his knuckle was white against the counter as he bent over, milking his cock for all it was worth.  

He takes a moment to steady his breathing, to come down from his high, before he sits up, tucking his softening, still throbbing cock back into his shorts. Gazing in the mirror as he washes out the sink, Brian is almost embarrassed at what he sees. His face is flushed, chest and shoulders as well, eyes wet with the tears of pleasure that had escaped from them when he came. He looked thoroughly fucked.

Sighing, Brian finishes cleaning out the sink, wiping his hands off as he takes a deep breath, steadying his breathing before he unlocks the door and swings it open, letting out a small gasp of shock when he sees Y/N standing across the hall from the bathroom, dripping wet, smirk on her face as she takes her eyes up and down Brian's body.

Fucking hell, he looked so good, Y/N's mouth was practically watering at his flustered appearance. Giving herself a mental pep talk, she pushes herself off the wall, one hand behind her back as she approaches the older man.

"Oh, I'm sorry Mr. Mr. May, I didn't mean to scare you..."

She was quicker than Brian had been expecting, her arms wrapping around his waist, lips crashing into his bruisingly.

He let out a strangled moan, his own hands coming to rest on her face, cradling her cheeks in them, pulling her even closer to him, wanting to feel every single inch of her against his body. He had barely gotten the chance to his her back before she pulled away, smirking up at him as she leaned up again, teeth grazing his earlobe as one of her hands lowers to his ass, squeezing his cheeks before brushing them forward, slipping a hand into one of his front pockets, her lips never leaving his skin.

Y/N wanted nothing more than to keep kissing him, to shove him into the bathroom and ride his cock with enough force to break the porcelain of the toilet...but, she wanted to draw this out, to tease him like he had teased her earlier in the day.

Pulling away from him she tucks her panties in his pocket, letting her hand brush over his cock as she removes it, leaving the panties behind.

Taking great pleasure in the look of sheer shock and amazement on Brian's face when he pulls the red fabric from his pocket, Y/N bites her lip, brushing her hand through his hair, her eyes trained on his shorts, before she jumps away from him, moving to walk back down the stairs when Louisa calls up to her asking if she's okay.

"Yeah Lou! I'll be down in just a sec!"

Y/N smirks at Brian one final time, descending the stairs as she speaks.

"You might want to wash your pants Mr. May... You've made a bit of a mess." His eyes are still wide, breathing even more erratic, and his cock, his fucking cock was hard again, almost like he hadn’t JUST washed a bucket load of his own cum down the bathroom sink. Bringing the red fabric to his nose, he breathes in deeply, groaning as he smells Y/N’s most intimate scent.  Turning on his heel, he reenters the bathroom, locking the door behind him before stepping into the shower, repeating his previous action which much more furious and desperate movements, her panties flush against his face. Yeah, he was properly fucked.  Tags: @meddows-taylors @toomuchlove-willkillyou @brianmayoucease @leah-halliwell92 @goodoldfashioned-rogerboy @rogertaylors-lipgloss @mariekuuuuuh @unofficialbillnye @stephydearestxo @danamaleksworld @dereones98 @glasgowkisschelseasmile @awkwardangelshezza @bellamy1998 @psychosupernatural @warren-lauren @womanwithahotdogstand @oujiacallme @simonedk @queen-see-ya-in-valhalla @sam-mercurry-sixx @horrorsinwonderland

#brian may #queen #brian may x reader #1998 brian may #queen fanfiction #brian may x you #brian may fanfiction #bohemian rhapsody imagine #brian may imagine #queen x you #queen x reader #my writing

[sunriserose1023]

Unexpected (8)

WORD COUNT: 4402 WARNINGS FOR THE SERIES:  THIS IS AN AU; unplanned pregnancy, pregnancy symptoms, language, angst, fluff, sexual content, flashbacks, medical descriptions/procedures, emotional crap; more warnings will be added as the series progresses.

Masterlist Read this series on Ao3 HERE.

The One With All the Cards on the Table

Steve unlocked his office door and set the books he was carrying on his desk. He laid his hands on it, bending over and letting out a breath. He closed his eyes, fingers curling as he pressed down on the top of the desk.

He hated this.

He straightened and moved his hands, rubbing them together as he stared at the framed diplomas on the wall. There was a knock at his door and he glanced back, giving Sharon a smile when she poked her head in.

“Hey.” “Hey back. Plans tonight?”

Steve shook his head.

“You?”

She smiled, leaning against the doorframe.

“There’s a girl in the economics department that asked if I wanted to meet for drinks.” “The blonde?” “Redhead.”

Steve smiled.

“That’s great!” “You know, I don’t think I could have even made one friend if it hadn’t been for you carting me everywhere and introducing me to everyone.”

Steve shook his head.

“I think you would have been fine on your own. I just … gave you a little push.”

Sharon smiled again, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Are you still keeping up the tutoring today?”

Steve sighed and shrugged.

“I’m not sure. I …”

He shook his head as he let his sentence trail off and Sharon spoke softly.

“You know you’ve got to talk to her.”

Steve sighed again.

“I know. It’s just …” “Yeah, I know. It’s complicated.”

He shook his head, reaching a hand up to rub at the back of his neck. He turned back towards her, he and Sharon exchanging a frown when a heated exchange could be heard down the hall.

“Is he down there?” “Sir, you can’t—“ “Watch me.”

Steve’s brows furrowed.

“Bucky?”

Steve and Sharon stepped into the hall, Steve’s eyebrows raising when he saw an irate Bucky stomping towards him. Steve subtly stepped in front of Sharon, shaking his head.

“Buck, what—“ “It would be in your best interest, Rogers, to keep your damn mouth shut. What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Steve blinked and Sharon tapped his shoulder, whispering to him.

“I’m gonna go.”

She stepped away and slipped into her office and Steve shook his head as Bucky invaded his personal space. Steve took a step back, but Bucky was right there with him. Steve stepped into his office and rounded the desk, leaning back when Bucky slammed his hands on top of it.

“Buck, what the hell?!” “I know you got some brains, college boy, but you sure as fuck aren’t using them, are you?”

Steve blinked, and Bucky shook his head.

“You’re a fucking idiot.” “Where is this coming from?”

Bucky shook his head again, one hand rubbing his stubbled chin. He let out a breath, then turned to Steve, a finger pointing towards the hallway.

“That chick. Sharon?”

Steve nodded, and Bucky went on, dropping his hand to his side.

“I’m sure she’s real nice. She’s cute. I’m sure she’s smart. But Steve. Come on.” “What?”

Bucky licked his lips before he spoke.

“She’s cool with the fact that your heart belongs to someone else?”

Steve rolled his eyes.

“That’s what this is about?” “No, it’s the fact that the sun’s shining today and it’s kind of pissing me off. Yeah, dumbass! This is about you and Y/N and how it’s time for you to get your head out of your ass.”

Steve sat in his chair, moving some papers around.

“There’s nothing with me and Y/N.” “Nothing’s gonna be a pretty big something in six more months.” “It’s a little more than six months.” “No, it’s actually right at.”

Steve looked up at Bucky.

“I guess as the father of the child, you’d know, huh? Oh, wait.”

Bucky smiled, sucking on his tongue.

“If you’re looking for a fight, Stevie, you’re barking up the right tree. I’m dying to rearrange those perfect teeth of yours.” “What the fuck is your real problem? That I haven’t been taking Y/N’s calls?” “That you’re parading women around her and ignoring her when she’s carrying your baby, you stupid fucker! You’re hurting her, you dumb bastard, and because she lives with me, I have to deal with the fallout. So yeah, I’ve got a problem with that. Lifelong friends or not, I’m not going to stand aside anymore while you treat a woman we both love in very different ways like shit.”

Steve set his jaw. It had been years since he and Bucky had gotten physical with their fights, but it sounded like a damn good idea right then.

“So we’re just ignoring how that woman, the one who’s carrying my baby, went on a date with another man?” “Christ, Steve, that was two weeks ago. She’s tried to talk to you since then, but you won’t answer your goddamn phone!”

He knew what a dick move it was, but he just couldn’t handle it. He couldn’t stand to talk to her, mainly because of the ache it caused in his heart. He leaned back in his chair, eyes moving to the calendar under the clock on the wall. He saw the little green heart in the corner of today’s date and he frowned.

“Buck, what’s the date?” “Are you kidding me?” “Just tell me.”

Bucky glanced at his watch, answering the question.

“I’m going to see you at the appointment in two weeks, right?

Steve flashed a smile, leaning back and tapping the calendar on the wall, where a green heart marked the day.

“I wouldn’t miss it.”

Steve blinked, eyes going to the watch on his wrist.

“Fuck. Fuck.” “Steve?”

Steve pushed a hand through his hair, dragging the other down his face. He stood up from the chair, pushing Bucky out of the way as he walked to the door, then started jogging down the hall, leaving a confused Bucky in his wake.

You sat on the edge of the exam table, dressed in the stupid paper gown, watching your toes as your feet dangled. You decided that tomorrow you’d talk Pepper into getting a pedicure, and you were already debating colors.

You let out a breath as you looked around, wondering why in God’s name you were thinking of mixing sour cream and onion chips with spaghetti and meatballs when the door opened.

“Miss Potts, so sorry to have kept you waiting.”

You smiled.

“No worries. They said you were finishing up a delivery.” “Babies have no sense of time, I’m afraid. Or decency, when their doctor has a full clinic booked.”

You gave a soft laugh and shook the hand Dr. Barton offered. He sat on the rolling stool and opened your chart.

“Any problems since the last time we saw each other?” “Other than many more food aversions, no.”

He smiled, making a note.

“Still tired?” “Yes. My boobs are still sore—more so, if I’m being honest. I’m still super emotional, too.” “Hormone surges.”

You nodded, and Clint was quiet for a moment before he spoke softly, eyes cast down at your chart.

“I did notice that your blood pressure is a little elevated today.” “Yeah, that’s what the nurse said.” “It’s not too bad, but it is higher than last time you were here. Out of range for you personally, according to your chart.”

You nodded again, and he lifted his eyes to yours.

“Is everything okay?”

You blinked, meeting his eyes. After a beat, you smiled.

“Yeah. Yeah, everything’s fine.”

He slowly nodded, and you could just tell that he didn’t believe you. You couldn’t help yourself as your face fell and tears gathered in your eyes. He grabbed a few tissues from the box on the counter and passed them to you. You nodded your thanks, pressing a tissue to your eyes as he spoke.

“I couldn’t help but notice that you’re here alone today.”

You nodded and sniffed, looking down at your hands.

“Yeah, I … I messed that up pretty good.” “I’m sorry.”

You nodded again, wiping the tears from your face. Clint rolled closer to you, forcing you to meet his kind eyes.

“I don’t know the situation, and I don’t need to. What I do need to tell you is that stress is not good right now. Not for you and definitely not for the baby. I know that’s much easier said than done, but … you’ve got to try.” “I know. I’m sorry.” “Hey, you don’t need to be sorry.”

He gave you a soft smile.

“This is a trying time, and it’s not necessarily going to be easy. Your hormones are going to be all over the place for the next few months, which is going to make you feel like you’ve been taken over by an alien invasion or something. Which is not too far off the mark, but…”

You gave a soft laugh and he went on.

“You’ve got to have a support system in place. Even if you can do this by yourself, you don’t have to. Don’t be afraid to ask for help. Let people help you.”

You nodded. He turned back to your chart and you sighed.

“I do have a … question, I guess.” “Give it to me.”

You smiled, then went on.

“The other night, I was up kind of late and I wasn’t doing anything strenuous. Just standing at the window and walking around. But I got this pain, and it … scared me.” “What kind of pain?”

You met his eyes.

“Was it sharp, stabbing? Burning?”

You shook your head.

“No, it was … kind of like a cramp.” “Do you normally have cramps with your periods?”

You shrugged your shoulders.

“Sometimes. Not too bad.” “Is that what your pain felt like?” “Yeah. It was quick, but noticeable.” “Any other symptoms with it? Any bleeding or spotting?”

You shook your head and Clint nodded.

“Pregnancy is a weird, magical time. No two women have the same experience. Aches and pains are kind of normal, I’m afraid. Now if the cramps were constant, never letting up, there would be a problem. If you spot a little, that’s normal, too. But if you’re soaking a pad or passing clots, then that’s a problem and you need to visit an ER and get checked out.”

You slowly nodded and Clint motioned with his head.

“Anytime you want to call and ask a question, feel free. Those nurses make good money to listen to patients like you.”

You smiled, giving a nod.

“Thank you.” “No problem. Now, you’re about twelve weeks along?”

You nodded.

“Me and my little lime.”

Clint smiled.

“Found an app, didn’t you?”

You gave a laugh, nodding your head. Clint kept smiling, shaking his head fondly.

“Slide down to the end of the table and let’s get the fun stuff out of the way.” “You and I have very different definitions of ‘fun.’”

Clint laughed, rolling back to grab a pair of gloves from the box as you slid down and put your feet in the stirrups. He gently placed his hands on your knees to spread them apart when there was a knock at the door. You both looked that way, then at each other. Clint shook his head, but when another knock sounded, he rolled away from you on the stool and stood up.

“Usually the nurses don’t bother when I’m in the room with a patient, but sometimes…”

You nodded, maneuvering the paper coverings around. Clint opened the door and poked his head out, leaning back in after a few seconds.

“Um… Miss Potts, it’s for you.” “What?”

You sat up, eyes widening when Steve stepped into the room. He pointed to you, blue eyes blazing.

“We need to talk.”

You blinked, shaking your head once.

“We can talk later.” “Oh, I don’t think so.” “Well, I do. I’ve kind of got a … situation going here.”

Clint cleared his throat and stepped forward.

“I can come back. I’ve got other patients.”

You shook your head.

“No, you can come finish. He can wait in the lobby.” “The hell I can.”

Your mouth dropped open.

“Excuse me?” “Where the hell do you get off? Were you just not going to tell me or any of us that you were here?”

You blinked again, speaking slowly and deliberately, with a tiny bit of venom in your tone.

“You don’t answer my calls anymore. What was I supposed to do? You want me to call your office? Because I did and they said you were at lunch with your girlfriend!” “Really, I’ve got a quick patient across the hall and I’ll be right back.”

You shook your head.

“No, this …”

You motioned between you and Steve, glaring at him.

“... can wait. I’m ready to be … less al fresco over here.”

Clint snorted, trying to cover it with a cough when Steve shook his head.

“I think this has waited long enough.” “Oh, really? Since your girlfriend’s not around, now you want to talk to me? Now you can acknowledge my presence?” “I’ll just be—“

You pointed at Clint.

“Don’t move!”

You looked back to Steve, narrowing your eyes, tone dripping with venom this time.

“I have got more important things to think about than your pitiful ego, you ass. This can wait until after the appointment is done. Or you can just leave now and go back to ignoring me like our new normal.”

When the snick of the door closing seemed to echo through the room, you and Steve both looked to find Clint had left. You let out a groan, letting your feet fall from the stirrups as you waved a hand.

“See what you did?” “What I did? You just—“

You lifted a hand when Steve started pacing.

“First off, if we’re doing this, you’ve got to stay up by my head.”

He looked at you with a confused look on his face and you rolled your eyes, motioning to the lower part of your body. Steve glanced that way, seeing the paper coverings, then closed his eyes. He shook his head before making his way to stand near your head. When he didn’t say anything, you took it as a sign to start the conversation.

“What did I do?”

He glanced your way and you shook your head, staring down at your hands.

“You said it was fine for me to go, I went, and you cut me out. What happened?”

When he didn’t answer, you turned your head to look at him, seeing a muscle twitch in his jaw as he clenched his teeth. After a brief silence, he spit out the words.

“You shouldn’t have gone.” “Seriously?” “Yeah, seriously!”

He started slowly pacing again and you shifted on the table.

“Head, Steve.”

He turned to walk back by your head and you twisted to look at him.

“So you told me to go but you didn’t mean it?” “Who in their right mind would mean it?” “How was I supposed to know that?! I can’t read your mind!” “You know me, Y/N!”

He started pacing again.

“You’ve got to know I didn’t really mean it.” “How was I supposed to know that when you were telling me the complete opposite?” “You just were.”

You rolled your eyes, hands clenching on your paper covers as you motioned for him to step away from your torso. He rolled his eyes, but moved back towards your head. He sighed.

“It killed me. I thought you would see that, that you’d see right through me and call me out on it.” “Steve, I’m not a mind reader.” “But you are! When it comes to me, you always have been.”

You blinked, and he shook his head as he started to pace again.

“I never have to ask you for anything. You always just give me what I need. But you … you don’t need me the same way.” “Oh, but I do need you, Steve.”

He stopped pacing to look at you.

“I need you to stay by my head!”

He blew out a breath, grabbing Clint’s rolling stool and bringing it by your head, then sitting on it. He held out his hands and you nodded.

“Thank you.”

He crossed his arms over his chest, and you shook your head.

“So … you were mad at me because I didn’t read your mind that you telling me to go meant for me not to go?”

He blew out a breath, letting his arms fall.

“No.” “Then what, Steve? Because I’ve been racking my brain trying to think of what I did wrong, and—“ “I saw you.”

You blinked, and he spoke again, just as softly.

“I saw you and him outside your building. I saw the kiss.”

You slowly closed your eyes, lying back on the table. Steve stared at his hands as he talked.

“I saw the way he looked at you and … I don’t know. When I saw you kiss him, I just … it’s like everything in me just … ‘died’ sounds too dramatic, but…”

He looked up, eyes meeting yours, his narrowing at the tears in yours. You gave a shake of your head.

“You idiot.”

You said it with such affection that Steve wasn’t the least bit offended. He rolled closer to you and you shook your head again.

“When he kissed me is when I knew what a huge mistake I’d made.”

He just blinked and you shrugged.

“I guess I realized then that I didn’t want to be kissed by him.” “Who did you want to be kissed by?”

You swallowed, looking up at the ceiling.

“It doesn’t matter anymore.” “Yes it does.” “Steve—“ “Y/N.”

He stood up, walking to where he was hovering over you as you looked up at him. You gave a shake of your head and whispered.

“You’ve got a girlfriend.” “No, I don’t.”

You tilted your head, cocking one eyebrow.

“So Sharon was your imaginary friend?” “Just a friend.” “If you’re going to use that lame-ass excuse, at least—“ “She’s gay, Y/N.”

You went still as he spoke again.

“She just moved here and she didn’t know anyone. She asked if I could introduce her to people and I took her for coffee to get to know her better, to see who I thought she might jive with. When I saw you in the coffee shop and saw the look on your face, it … I don’t know. It gave me the idea to use her to make you think she was my girlfriend.”

You blinked at him, then shook your head.

“That was a shitty thing to do.” “I know. Sharon said that, too.” “You really hurt me, Steve.” “I know. And I’m so sorry for that.”

You sighed, staring up at the ceiling.

“We’re a mess.”

Steve gave a soft laugh.

“Tell me about it.” “We can’t do this, Steve. We can’t have a baby together and hurt each other like this.” “I know.”

You closed your eyes, taking in a shaky breath and letting it out slowly.

“We just need to forget anything ever happened and go back to being friends.” “Just friends with a baby?”

You nodded. Steve was quiet, until you rolled your head to look at him. He pursed his lips, then shook his head.

“I can’t do that.” “What do you mean?” “Exactly what I said. I can’t do that.” “Why not?” “Because every time I close my eyes, I see you sleeping on my chest. I see the way you kept your eyes closed when I kissed you, even seconds after we pulled apart. I see your hair fanned out over that pillow and I hear the soft way you said my name when I made you come.”

Your eyes widened, and he moved to hover over you again, one thick arm on either side of your head.

“I remember the way your body felt under my hands and god, Y/N. I want to feel it again. I want to feel your lips on mine, on … other places.”

Your cheeks were on fire, but you couldn’t look away from him, watching the way his eyes focused on your lips before meeting yours.

“All I can think of is how we made this baby and how badly I want to do it again.” “Steve.”

Your voice was barely a whisper, and his dropped deeper as he continued.

“I see you the way you were sleeping when I left and I want to see that every night.”

Your eyes widened as he shook his head.

“But I don’t want to leave again. I want to be there with you or have you there with me every second of every day. I want to touch you—God, do I— but I want to get to know you more than I do right now. I want to see you early in the mornings and late in the middle of the night. I want to talk to you and hear you laugh and I want to hold your hand.”

He gave a hard shake of his head as he straightened, reaching for your hand and lacing his fingers through yours.

“I don’t want you kissing other men.” “Why not?” “Because I want you kissing me.”

You gave a sharp exhale and he met your eyes.

“I know the timing is fucked, but I … I want to be with you. And I … Y/N, I’m all in. I’m putting all the cards on the table. This baby, marriage, more babies, I’m putting it all out there. Maybe that scares you. It scares me. But at the same time, it doesn’t.”

Steve shook his head.

“It’s scary as hell, but it feels right. I’m so sorry that I hurt you. I’ll spend every day of the rest of my life trying to make that up to you, if you’ll let me. But I can’t just be your friend, Y/N. Not now. Not anymore.”

You stared at him, feeling the heavy warmth of his hand as he held tightly to yours. You let his words sink in, and while they did scare you, you had to admit … it did feel right. You blinked and licked your lips, then looked up at him.

“Come here.”

He leaned in and you shook your head.

“Closer.”

He leaned in further and a smile came to your lips, voice barely a whisper.

“Closer.”

Steve leaned in so close your noses were almost touching. Your eyes danced over his face, from his plump lips to his eyes, as his eyes did the same to you. When your eyes met, you stared into his burning blue before leaning up and closing the gap between you, pressing your lips against his.

He kept his eyes on you, until he shifted his lips against yours and you had to close your eyes. His tongue slid between your lips as his free hand moved to cradle your cheek, while honest-to-God tingles broke out over your body.

He pulled away when a soft knock sounded at the door, resting his forehead on yours, his voice hoarse.

“Come in.”

Clint poked his head in the door and you smiled.

“Is this still hostile territory or do we have an all clear?”

You gave a soft laugh as Steve glanced at Clint.

“The coast is clear, Doc.”

Clint nodded as he stepped into the room, doing a crappy job of trying to hide the smile on his face.

“You guys think we can finish this appointment now?”

You and Steve both nodded, staring at each other instead of the Doctor. Clint snorted, shaking his head and muttering under his breath, a smile on his face as he washed his hands, then slid a pair of gloves on. You repositioned yourself with your feet back in the stirrups, smiling when Steve took your hand and held it against his chest, gently carding his fingers through your hair as he stood with his back to Clint and his eyes on you.

Bucky yawned as he walked out of his room, rubbing an eye and scratching at his chest. He came to a stop in the middle of the living room when he saw Steve in the kitchen. Bucky frowned, watching Steve drink from a glass of orange juice.

“What are doing here?”

Steve shrugged.

“Stealing some of your orange juice.” “How’d you know it was mine?” “Because Y/N hates orange juice unless it’s in a cocktail, and since that’s not happening for a while…”

Bucky nodded, making a face.

“And where the hell’s your shirt?”

Steve shrugged again.

“Got hot.”

Bucky rolled his eyes, walking towards the bathroom. He stopped again, turning to face Steve, hands moving to his hips.

“You know, you never come over here. Not since you left me to go live with Peggy. Why are you here now?”

Steve shrugged again, finishing his orange juice.

“Pepper’s door was locked and since they got that weird new alarm system, I decided to break in here.”

Bucky shook his head, rubbing his eyes again.

“It’s too early for this shit.”

Bucky stepped into the bathroom and shut the door behind him. Steve almost deflated, exhaling in a relieved rush, rubbing a hand over his face. He quickly searched through the cabinets, cursing under his breath when he heard the toilet flush and the faucet turn on. The door opened and Bucky stepped out, mouth already working.

“Another thing. It is barely six. The damn sun isn’t even up yet. What the hell are you doing here at ass o’clock in the morning? And don’t tell me some bullshit about ‘morning jogs’ or whatever.”

Steve went to open his mouth, but your door opened. You stood there, hair tousled, body relaxed, a sleepy look on your face.

“Steve, can you get me some … water?”

You stopped when you saw Bucky, pressing your lips together. Bucky looked from you to Steve, saw the way both of you just sort of shrugged. Bucky blinked, then shook his head as he sighed.

“Hey, Stevie?” “Yeah.” “Found your shirt.”

You looked down, smoothing a hand over Steve’s white t-shirt, the one you’d gathered up off the floor and pulled on. Bucky made his way back towards his room, muttering under his breath before he closed the door behind him.

“‘Bout damn time.”

TAGS:  @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan, @captain-rogers-beard, @captain-s-rogers, @alexfayer, @rhiisnotawitch, @janeyboo, @zlixlle, @aurorasinger, @katielu-blog, @sandlee44, @iamwarrenspeace, @sebbystanlover-vk, @sofipatey, @poemfreak306, @teainaukgarden, @godhateskyleigh, @kaylaphantomhive, @vivalaplutonium, @katecupcakekate, @thatgirl-xx-thatgirl, @renalilo, @astrid345, @theonelittleone, @sebbytrash, @bionic-buckyb, @dudahmautner, @allyp1023, @nerdgirljen, @ashrod98, @rednamrahc, @ghostly-balloon-collector, @theplaidshirtmadness, @pagan-geek-girl-4-life, @itzmegaaaaaaan, @tumariposaroja, @thefanficfaerie, @wintersoldierswhore, @nerdy-bookworm-1998, @nuvoleincielo, @unapologeticallymimi, @shhhs3cret, @sea040561, @reginaphalange2403, @theunofficialduke, @mizzzpink, @iamthemaskhewears, @girl-next-door-writes, @authoressskr

#unexpected series #marvel reader insert #marvel fanfiction #marvel au #marvel crossover #marvel x friends #friends #friends to lovers #unplanned pregnancy #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x female reader #female reader #reader insert #bucky barnes #clint barton #sharon carter #michelle jones

[cassiedangerclouds]

Everything Is Green {Krii7y}

DeviantArt: SugarHigh100 (Smii7y)

Twitter: Beaudicea (Kryoz)

~

Trigger Warning!: In this story, I will write about colour blindness. Sorry if I do not get it correct as I myself do not suffer from anything of the sort (I am mildly longsighted). If this may offend you, please don't read. And I would really love to hear from some colour blind people on how I can fix my perception of it up in case I write this type of thing again.

Remember that this is MY interpretation of colour blindness (Protanomaly and Tritanopia), this is how I understood what I read from my research. So please don't take it personally if I get it completely wrong.

In this story, there will also be:

Anxiety Attacks –Based off of the ones I get. Because everyone experiences these differently-

Bullying (mentioned)

Swearing

Self-Deprecating Tendencies

~

Life gets pretty boring when all you see if various shades of green, grey and if you're lucky, violet.

But not the pretty, dark violet everyone else sees. No, it's a dull, kind of light version.

That's just life when your parents are Red-Green and Blue-Yellow colour blind and you pull the short straw on both ends.

No, I couldn't just have one; like not perceiving reds or greens properly. Or maybe become a very rare case and not be able to see blues properly.

No.

I ended up Red-Green in one eye and Blue-Yellow in the other.

So my world is full of dull, warped greens, boring and monotonous blacks and whites, only light grey and maybe, if luck wants to grace me, with violet. I strive for the moments that slightly purply-blue colour pops, I try to capture every detail of the moment so that I can try recreate it.

My parents try to tell me that when I'm older, my eyes may get better.

But I know that they won't.

Magic doesn't exist. If you're born with these things, you live with them forever.

People get weirded out by me. I confuse them. So I learnt to keep to myself. I sit under the trees, on the grass, things that should be blindingly green and are but just a dull blue really.

I got told that my glasses would help me see colours properly, but the kids all picked on me, so I don't wear them anymore.

The glasses were pretty cool I guess, I mean they were blue and red, and the world looked amazing back in fifth grade for the month that I wore them.

It's been five years since I've worn them though, I figured that, if I was picked on in fifth grade, high school would be no saving grace. So they sit in draw at home, collecting dust.

I guess life isn't too bad, I mean, at least I'm not blind. But this is no better.

"Hey. Hey. Can you hear me?" I kept my head down, knowing exactly who it was.

"I asked you a question."

I looked up, not too much, just enough to see if it was who I thought it was, "Yeah. I guess. I'm not deaf." I said, tapping my fingers against the ground.

"I'm not here to pick on you kid. I'm not an arsehole. My friends and I saw you sitting by yourself and I wanted to know if you wanted some company."

This time he caught my full attention, "Like for real? This isn't some big joke that Evan and all that set up to give me hope?" I asked.

He laughed, "Nah dude, honestly, Evan and his friends are a little overrated." He said, "With the exception of like Ryan. Oh and Craig, he hangs out with us sometimes."

I smiled, "I mean, sure. I guess that I could come and sit with you guys." I said.

"Sick." He said, helping me up.

He led me over to a table, not far from where I was sitting, I noticed him stumbling a little.

"Hey fuckers. I'm back." He announced.

"No one gives a fuck John." One of the other males at the table replied, looking up from his phone.

"Fuck you to, bitch." John replied.

"So guys, this is...uh I never asked your name, did I?" John asked.

"Good goin' John. You see a lonely kid, invite him over, but don't even ask his name." another said, this one was for sure in grey.

I snickered a little, looking over the group, of course, looking at everyone wasn't going to help me tell them apart, but it was worth a shot.

"HEY! That sounded a lot better in my head." The grey one stated.

"So, what's your name stranger?" one of the guys closest to me asked.

Come on, just say Jaren. "Lukas." I answer. What the fuck did I say that for?

"Well Lukas. As you could figure out, I'm John. In order around the table from my left. Cameron, Ryan, Craig, Anthony and...where did Crystal go?" John asked for a person I guess was here before he came over to me.

Crazy hair, grey guy, glasses, panda case. I recited in my head, it was the only way I'd actually remember them.

"Brock's nut of a sister came over and requested that her friend join her for a conversation." Anthony, I think, answered.

I frowned, "Cassidy isn't too crazy." I stated, causing everyone to stare at me.

"What. She used to be my..." I trailed off, "Never mind. Why did you invite me over here. I'm just the weird kid."

"We're all weird here." Cameron said, completely ignoring my slip up or at least I hope he did.

"I mean. Probably not. At least compared to me. Nobody is as mutant as I am."  I stated, looking down.

"What. Why? Because your eyes are different a little off centre or your hair is white? Every time I saw you, I always thought you just bleached it, like John does with his." Craig said with a shrug.

I sighed, shaking my head, "Okay. Don't like freak or anything okay John. But like, that jumper you're wearing is probably rad. But it's like literally all green, different shades. But to me. That whole thing is green, except the white bits near your wrists." I always found it was an easy way to explain my problem to people by talking about something that probably wasn't green and trying to tell them that's how I see it. "I can imagine and sort of figure out the colours, because I've done it for so long-"

"What shades of green?" John asked.

I shrugged, "The top is like a lime kind of colour. So it's probably like yellow or somet'in'. Uh, the middle is a dull green. So that's like red or orange, I don't remember because I don't see those colours a lot. The top of the sleeves is like, mint ice cream green. So they're some type of blue." I explained, hoping I got the colours close.

"That's so cool dude." John said.

"How do you live like that? Not being able to see colours. Only green?" Craig asked.

"Well. I mainly see the green spectrum, but I can see light grey, black, white and sometimes, violet. But it's like not the cool dark violet colour, it's more like what I think you would see as a cross between magenta maybe and periwinkle. I can see some shades of yellow, kind of. Most colours appear as greens though." I explained, tapping my fingers against my leg.

"Well, sit down you weird ass human." Cameron said.

I smiled, shaking my head, "Sorry. This was a nice..experience, but I'm just gonna leave." I said, turning around, I walked back towards where I was.

Suddenly I was on the ground, noticeably colder than before.

I looked up and saw my jumper in John's hands.

"Hey, fuck you. Give me my jumper back, it's cold." I demanded, getting off my arse, snatching my jumper out of his hands, slipping it over my head.

"It's a mild fifteen degrees, it's not that cold." Cameron stated.

"Shut up, you Kiwi fuck. We get it that it's fucking freezing in New Zealand." A feminine voice said from behind me.

Cameron pouted, "Piss off you Aussie bitch." He stated.

"Oh, and this is Crystal. Crystal, this is –"

"Hey Luke." Crystal said with a shrug.

"Vibe." I returned, watching as they walked over and sat between Cameron and Ryan.

"Wait- you two know each oth-"

"Whatever, reunions are boring. What did the nut want with you, aye?" Cameron asked, nudging Crystal's shoulder.

Crystal shrugged, "Never say that again. Worst Australian accent ever. Come on Fitzy, you're the closest one to where I'm from and you can't even fake a believable accent." They said.

The group started to banter, giving me the perfect chance to slip away.

I kept walking, not really knowing where I was going, I just knew I had to get away from that group before something bad happened to them because of me.

"Hey. Hey! Lukas, wait up." I heard a call from behind me, recognising John's voice, I picked up my pace, not watching where I was going.

Once more I was on the ground and I noticed that it was because I had bumped into someone. I stood up, "I'm so sorry. I-" my breath hitched.

In front of me stood well known school menace and Evan's right hand man Jonathan.

"I-I'm so so sorry. Uh, Delirious." I said, I could feel myself shaking.

Delirious turned to face me, and I could feel my lungs get heavy.

"Dude. Are you okay?" he asked me, sending me into surprise.

"What?" I managed to squeak out.

"I asked if you were okay? You hit me pretty hard and fell to the floor." Delirious said.

I shrugged, "I'm uh. Fine. Just yeah. Sorry." I stammered, my breathing starting to even out.

"Lukas, why are you-" I heard John stop dead, his boots squeaking as he skidded on the hallway floor. "Fuck."

"Well, if you're okay. Then I'm just gonna walk away." Delirious said, walking away.

I was still shaking, I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths. In for four, hold for seven, out for eight.

"Dude, are you okay?" I heard John was near me now.

But I still didn't open my eyes, I shakily pointed at my bag, "Pap- Pap- Bag" I started coughing.

"Pap Bag. Pap. Paper Bag! Oh, get the paper out of your bag!" John figured out, quickly flipping the latch on my bag and handing me the almost empty bag.

"I don't understand how this will help you." John said.

I cupped my hand around the opening, placing it near my mouth, breathing in and out into the bag.

My breathing went back to normal after five minutes and the coughing stopped.

I moved it away and drew in a deep breath.

"What the fuck was that?" John asked, making me painfully aware that he was still there.

I opened my eyes to see him standing in front of me, "That was an anxiety attack you fucking idiot. Holy shit. I could've-no-probably would've passed out if you hadn't have helped me. Jesus, I haven't had one that bad in a while." I stated, half talking to myself.

"Your welcome. I mean, I don't know how to respond." John said.

I smiled, "Thank you. But seriously. I thought that Jonathan was a bully. He didn't even threaten me. I think a lot of people just spread rumours and one rumour made it out and became popular saying that the BBS are bullies. They're probably just a bunch of misunderstood kids. I- I'm sorry for walking off." I said.

"Nah dude. My friends can be a little much sometimes, even for me." He said.

"Oh. Okay. Well, I'm still sorry. It was a good thing you did you know, asking me to join you guys. Your friends don't seem to bad. I'd probably fit in with you all. I feel like a big dou-"

I felt something warm against my lips for a split second and then it was gone.

"You talk too much." John stated.

My face started heating up, "What the fuck? We haven't even known each other for a day. John you're fucking weird," I stated, pulling my sleeve over my hand, wiping my mouth.

He laughed, "You enjoyed it. Don't deny it." He said.

Maybe I did. It doesn't matter, I don't even know the guy. "No I didn't." I retorted, but I knew my body language said otherwise.

"You're a bad lyre Lukas. You're red as a firetruck." He teased.

"Shut up you fucking prick." I muttered.

He rolled his eyes, "Come on. Come and hang out with me and my band of Misfits." He said.

I sighed, "Fine." I said and we walked back towards his friends, maybe a bit closer than previously.

But seriously, who the fuck kisses someone they just met? Like what even is that?

"Someone who has a set." John replied.

"Fuck. I said that out loud. Sorry." I said.

He stopped and turned to face me, "Stop fucking apologising. You've done nothing wrong." He said.

And that's when I noticed one small thing, well not really small thing, but it was something that would this was a moment I'd never forget.

~

Everything is green.

But his hair is my favourite colour.

Because it is violet.

~

Authors Note:

Hi guys!

Yes, I am a weirdo. I would've made it John's eyes, except that in this case it wouldn't work because John's eyes are blue and for them to be violet, they'd have to be yellow. Which just isn't realistic.

Anyway, that's it.

#krii7y #smii7y x kryoz #kryozgaming #smii7y #gay baby gang #banana bus squad