lobby-bar

Harry Smut// Anonymous

Masterlist || Part 2 (as requested)

A/N: Okay bIG MOOD

8:30 showed on your phone as you sat at the hotel lobby bar. A pianist played classical music in the corner of the room softly. The piece sounded familiar, but you couldn’t focus on the harmony. Your legs were a little chilly on the metal chair in your olive dress. You pulled down the hem wondering if it was too much for tonight; you told him to dress up, but you wondered if what you had on was too much.

Did it matter anyway? He was now fifteen minutes late at a 30 became a 31 on your clock. The bartender almost passed you until you caught his attention. 

“Dirty martini please,” you told him, tapping your coaster.

He nodded before starting to make your drink. Your patience was wavering. He hadn’t texted you or messaged you about being late or on his way. A simple text just saying, “traffic is horrible. be there in five,” would suffice. 

Your drink was delivered faster than you thought it would, but there was still no one walking into the hotel. You were the only one at the bar. Some had come to get a drink, but they were swept away by others, and that’s all you wanted. You wanted to be swept by someone; you wanted someone that demanded your attention but you always demanded theirs. 

“Scotch, straight,” a man dressed in a suit and tie said as he walked up behind you to order. He laid down some cash next to your drink; you weren’t an expert on the price of a scotch, but you were sure he laid down too much, “and hers as well,” he finished.

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Essays in Existentialism: Rivals

Clarke and Lexa are rival cheerleading captains with a little too much sexual tension. They both stay in the same hotel with their teams for a competition.

“I want absolutely no fraternization,” the coach said as he placed his hands on his hips and moved up and down the sidewalk in front of the hotel. “There will be no pranking, no fighting, no yelling, no touching, no post cards, no letters, no hugging, no anything, with the opposing team. Am I understood?”

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AHS Hotel: User & Abuser

Tristan Duffy, James March x Reader

Word Count: 2128

__________________________________________________

Today is your boyfriend, Tristan’s runway modeling gig. It is held by the infamous Will Drake at the Hotel Cortez in downtown Los Angeles. You didn’t go with Tristan to most of his gigs, but you had the day off of work and not to mention, an overnight stay here is free thanks to Will Drake. 

Another reason was because you didn’t trust Tristan. He gained a terrible habit of doing drugs at his gigs and you wanted to be there to make sure he doesn’t. But who knows, Tristan always finds a way. You even tried to convince him to go to rehab in the past but every time you brought it up, he would get defensive.

You know you deserve better and your friends are always telling you to leave him, but you just can’t let go. The both of you have gone through so much together. Good and bad.

There was even a dark time when Tristan has hit you when the both of you got in a heated argument while being heavily intoxicated. He was too drunk to fully realize it, so you just cried yourself to sleep. Being sober the following morning, Tristan apologized and promised it wouldn’t happen again.


“Tristan, you’re on in 10!” The backstage crew member shouted to Tristan as he was walking past him. He was all over the place trying to stay organized, telling models when they were up next. The plan is for Tristan to make an appearance 4 times throughout the show in 4 different outfits.

“Yup!” Tristan replied while sitting in front of the vanity mirror. There was a hairstylist doing last minute touches on his hair. You were standing next to Tristan, putting your hand on his shoulder. “Babe, can you not? I don’t want you in my personal space right now.” Tristan says, moving his shoulder away from you. He’s been such a diva all day and you just went along with it.

“Okay. Whatever.” You let out a sigh, then went to sit on a chair about 5 feet away from him, pulling out your smartphone to keep yourself occupied.

6 minutes later you go to use the bathroom.

Once you come back, you see Tristan quickly snort a line of white powder on his vanity. Your eyes raging with anger, you push Tristan on the back. “What the hell, Tristan?!” 

Tristan rolls his eyes. 

“Tristan Duffy, let’s go! You’re up after Lawrence and Stacy.” The backstage crew member grabs him by the arm to his place. Tristan doesn’t even say a word to you.

“What the fuck?!” Being so angry and disappointed with your boyfriend, you chose not to rush to sit front row to watch him do his thing on the catwalk. Instead, you go to the bar upstairs. 

Because of the fashion event going on in the lobby, the bar is pretty much empty. You see the bartender who’s tall and slim with a bald head, wearing green eye shadow and thick eye liner. Sitting at the bar, you see a pale man with dark brown hair and a modern day Gomez Addams mustache. He is also dressed to the nines in a dark blue suit.

You sit one chair away from him. The bartender walks over to you and asks, “I’m Liz. What’ll you be having, hun?”

“Just make me the strongest drink you can make.” You respond.

“You got it.” Liz starts on making your drink.

“This one’s on me, dear.” The man tells Liz and then looks at you. He moves to sit on the stool next you and puts his hand out for you to shake. “I’m James. James Patrick March.”

“Y/N.” You put your hand to shake his back, but instead, he grabs your hand to kiss your knuckles. Wow. You can’t remember the last time Tristan ever did that to you. “The way you’re dressed, you look like you should be joining the fashion show downstairs.”

James looks up, opening his mouth, letting teeth show. His eyes wide as he responds with, “Ah, yes.” He pauses, then looks back at you. “That sort of festivity is not to my liking. May I ask why are you not attending such occasion?” He had a really strong tone of voice and sounds straight out of an old movie, similar to Clark Gable. Whereas your boyfriend talks more like Rob Kardashian. This man is definitely classy.

“Well, my boyfriend is in the show. But, he really pissed me off beforehand and I can’t even look at him in the face right now. So. Here I am.” You let out a fake laugh. Liz hands you your drink and you take a sip. “The next one’s on me, James.”

“Oh no. Have anything you like, dear. This is my hotel.” With drink in one hand, he puts both of his arms out, being proud to show off his hotel.

“Wow this is your hotel? Tell me all about it.” You are very opened to hearing anything this nice man has to say about his hotel. For once, a man (especially a good looking man) cares to have a decent conversation with you while being very passionate about it. You didn’t want to compare a stranger to your boyfriend, but whenever you sit down with Tristan at the dinner table, he’s always on his damn phone looking through social media instead of talking to you. You really hated how technology has so much control over people nowadays.

“Splendid!” James says in excitement. “Come. Let’s sit.” James nods his head, then puts the hand that’s holding his drink to point at the table nearby.

The table you chose to sit at has a perfect view of the fashion show. Coincidentally, you see Tristan walk on the white runway. A part of you wishes you could be there to support him, but you’re just so pissed about him resorting to drugs. You thought he wouldn’t do it when you’re around, but Tristan’s a hard person to control.

Two hours pass and during that time, you listened to James fascinate about his hotel and he listened to you rant about your boyfriend. The conversation you were having with him made you forget all about the fashion show. James was being a great listener. He didn’t have much to say about Tristan. Most of the time, he nodded his head and listened while smoking a cigarette. You were so caught up in the conversation that you even told James about the violent drunken fight you had with Tristan before. “A man must never lay a hand on his beloved. Especially if she is beautiful like you, dear.” James looks you directly in the eye, then takes a sip of his drink.

You looked down and smiled. James is such a charming man.

You chugged whatever’s left in your glass and check the time on your phone. “Oh shit. I didn’t even realize we’ve been talking this long.” You look over the lobby, seeing everything getting cleaned up. Rushingly, you put your phone in your bag and stand up. “I should really get going, Tristan’s probably wondering where I’m at.” 

“As they say, time flies when one is having fun.” James grins. 

As he’s still sitting down, you quickly give him a hug. He can smell the aroma of your perfume. “It was nice meeting you, James. Thanks again for the drinks. I had a great time.” You start heading downstairs to the elevator.

James puts out his cigarette and starts slowly walking towards the bar. with his hands behind his back. He’s eyeing you while you’re still in sight. 

Liz notices him right away. “James. She has a boyfriend, remember?”

“Ah yes. From what I have learned, this significant other of hers does not have good intentions. I just know.”


Finally, you reached the floor your suite is in. You unlock the door with your room key and rush in, setting your purse on the floor being worried that Tristan’s been concerned where you’ve been.

You start looking for Tristan. The first thing you see is half of an empty bottle of vodka on the table. Then, you walk in the bedroom and find him snorting another line of whatever drug that is on the nightstand. “Are you serious right now?!” You push Tristan and quickly wipe off whatever’s left on the nightstand with your hand. 

Tristan stands up. “What the hell, babe?!” Instead of being embarrassed about you finding out, he’s pissed that you wasted it.

You stand on your tip toes and push Tristan again. “What the hell is wrong with you?! God dammit, you weren’t even worried about where I’ve been for the past couple of hours?!” 

“Stop fucking pushing me, dude!” Tristan yells, putting his face closer to yours as hes grabbing both of your arms.

“Look at you. You’re pathetic. You should’ve gone to rehab like I said. But no, you’re such a fucking loser!” You let go of his grip and push him again, which fills him with even more anger. You can see his face turn red and his jaw clench. He picks you up and throws on the nearest desk, causing the mirror to break. “Tristan!” You screamed. There’s no way that the people in the halls wouldn’t hear that. While he’s staring at you, he’s huffing and puffing from the strength he used to throw you. Mixing drugs, alcohol and anger is never the best idea.

Your mind is filled with confusion. The man you thought that loves you has really outdone himself this time. He made a promise that he wouldn’t lay a hand on you again. You’re so frightened now and just wished you left him the first time it happened. 

You thought to yourself, who knows what else he’s capable of doing? Not thinking thoroughly in the heat of the moment, you grab one of the broken mirror pieces, run up to Tristan and cut his face with it. “I hate you!” 

“Oh, you do huh?!” Tristan grabs you by the wrist, but right before he has the chance to abuse you again, James appears to stop him, making Tristan let go of your wrist. You ran to the nearest wall and cried. You could’ve sworn that the door was locked behind you. But you didn’t care to question it at this point. You’re just thankful that James is here to save you.

“Who are you?” Tristan still breathing heavily asks.

“It does not matter, dear boy. This is my hotel. And I will not allow you to harm, Miss Y/N.” James does not break eye contact.

You look up to see what’s going on as you’re wiping away your tears with the back of your hand. 

An older woman with red hair, wearing a maid uniform bends down to you, handing you a tissue. As you’re sniffling, you say, “Thank you, uhhhhh.”

“Hazel Evers. But you can call me Miss Evers.” The woman smiles at you as she is getting your hair out of your face.

“Fuck off, man!” Tristan attempts to attack James. James being much stronger than him, pushes Tristan on the bed. You can see the veins popping out of James’ neck from using his strength.

James grabs a gun out of his pocket and shoots Tristan in the head.

Your eyes widen in shock and you get up to rush to Tristan’s body but James stops to hold you. “Oh my god, what did you do?!” You didn’t think a man like James was capable of killing someone. 

“I saved you, dear. I saved you before it was too late.” Something about James’ voice is very calming to you. Still holding you, he grabs a handkerchief from his jacket and wipes away your tears.

Taking you with him, he goes to sit on the couch and lays your head to rest on his lap as you cry. Your head was filling with mixed emotions. Of course, you’re sad that the man you thought you loved is laying there dead. But what if James didn’t show up to save you? Who knows what else Tristan is capable of doing to you. He could’ve easily killed you as well. So much just happened in a short amount of time that all you want to do is lay down and cry.

“Miss Evers!” James turns his head to Miss Evers.

“Yes, Mr. March?!” She answers. Miss Evers seems very loyal to James.

“Would you get Sally to help you rid of this body?”

“Right away, sir! What a glorious stain!” She leaves the room excitedly.

James looks back down on you and caresses your head. “There there, dearest. Never will I hurt you like he did.”

4

East of Nowhere - Year Four

Master Post Here

Sam x Female Reader

Summary: You and Sam are strangers trapped in a desolate mountain town where you live, isolated from the outside world, for five years.

Part four of a seven part series, each chapter detailing the events of one year.

Author’s Notes: Beta’d by the goddess divine: @elliewinchesterr

If you’d like to be added to the tags just drop me an ask.

Warnings: Language, angst, fluff, gore and explicit sexual content.

Word Count: 5900+

Your name: submit What is this?

Three Years, Three Weeks

You twist in sweat soaked sheets, your body writhing next to Sam as a dream flickers to life behind your closed eyes.

The bunsen burner is a burnished silver and far larger than any you’ve ever seen before, the flames a brilliant blue and strong as they lick upward. You reach over to turn the base, to feed it with oxygen. At once, the fire becomes golden and takes the shape of a flower head. You watch the many petals became more distinct, folding outward, radiating light and warmth. It’s the most beautiful flower you’ve ever seen, more fleeting than any other, yet seemingly eternal.

 

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Find a comfy position, grab a tea and get ready to binge-read the heck out of these wonderful fics! At the beginning of the month I asked followers and stucky lovers on tumblr to send in their favourite Stucky fanfictions which had been written and completed in 2015. I cannot thank everyone who submitted their favs enough! This is the most EPIC list on this blog and it is all because of you guys! But enough rambling from me. Happy readings! And I wish everyone the very best in the New Year! 

All fanfictions listed below are for the pairing Steve Rogers/James “Bucky” Barnes. There is no order to this list. Please read all tags and author notes before reading. 

our golden age by augustbird

Wherein Bucky is the crown prince and Steve still becomes a hero.

rated explicit . 147k

Schrödinger’s Romance by InTheMiddleOfNowhere

“It could be a relationship, it could not be. You can assume either until you see for sure the results.”

We all know those moments. Those moments when your family all gathers around you and asks “So, do you have a boyfriend yet?”. Bucky knows these moments all too well and, quite frankly, he’s sick to death of them. Unfortunately, being a 21 year old college student makes it harder for him to come up with excuses, and with Christmas coming up he needs to think of a way out fast. A chance encounter with a stranger through an old library textbook could just be the kind of miracle he needs to make it through the holidays with his last shreds of sanity intact.

rated mature . 196k

Melt Into, Melt Until by notoska

Steve looks up and holds his blown black eyes. “Tell me how you want to fuck me.”

Bucky’s mouth drops open a little and his eyes roll. “Slow,” he slurs, his body is rocking back and forth with Steve’s touch, “So slow. So slow that you beg.” Bucky lifts his head again. He pushes his forehead to Steve’s and his voice dips, “So slow you start fucking yourself on it. And deep—” Bucky moans, biting his lip, “So fucking deep. Spread you open so I can get deeper. Make you come so hard you beg for more before your cock’s gone soft.”

rated explicit . 79k

Is It Pretending If I Already Want You? by OhCaptainMyCaptain

Based on prompt: Pretend Boyfriends AU where one of their families is always wondering why they’re never in a relationship, so the other offers to pretend to be their boyfriend for some family event"

Basic Steps to Getting Yourself In a Pickle With Both Your Family and The Guy You’ve Secretly Crushed On For Five Years (A Guide):

STEP 1: After being perpetually single and constantly making up excuses to your family, give in and lie about having a boyfriend.
STEP 2: Agree to bring said boyfriend to the family cottage for a week so he can be your date to your parents’ wedding anniversary party.
STEP 3: Panic.
STEP 4: Say ‘yes’ when your best friend and closet crush - who you’re convinced isn’t interested in you that way in the least - offers to be your pretend boyfriend.
STEP 5: Try your best not to fall in love with them during the trip.
STEP 6: Fail miserably.

rated explicit . 85k

It’s Just Temporary by perfect_plan

Bucky Barnes has no idea what he wants to do with his life and is stumbling from one temp job to the next. Hopefully he can keep his new job at Stark Industries for longer than a week…

rated mature . 52k

Thawed Out by auburnnothenna (auburn) and eretria

He’s not the Asset. He’s not the Winter Soldier. But neither is he Bucky Barnes. With the help of Steve, Sam and the Avengers, James takes the long, slow road to recovery. Nothing is as easy as either of them thought it would be.

rated explicit . 159k

Into That Good Night by Nonymos

Steve Rogers has lived for entirely too long—long enough to see the world’s end. The heroes are gone, and the Earth is pushing what’s left of mankind towards the exit.

But when a makeshift team rises from the ashes, when a mysterious presence all but drags Steve there, he begins to think there may be hope yet. As they shoot for the stars one last time, Steve will get proof yet again that the future is nothing if not an echo of the past.

rated explicit . 73k

nothing goes over his head by fmo

In which Bucky gets knocked out briefly during a mission, wakes up fine, and then spends a day enduring strange hints, clandestine looks, and cryptic texts from his friends. Steve will never let him live this one down.

rated teen . 1k

4 Minute Window by Speranza

“Look, if they catch me,” Bucky muttered, “they’re either going to kill me or they’re going to put me in a box with a little window and—Steve, I can’t.”

rated explicit . 24k

if the bad times are coming let 'em come by suzukiblu

“I think I’m gonna have to hurt some people,” Steve Rogers says, voice tight with rage. The asset assumes that will be him, then laughs at himself for the thought.

He’s not people.

rated explicit . 9k

If Ye Be Worthy (the Stubborn as a Brick Wall Remix) by Taste_is_Sweet

Bucky didn’t even glance up from beating the trembling heavy bag to death. “You’re gonna tell me that being turned into the Red Room’s assassin and then Hydra’s fucking attack dog for seventy-whatever years wasn’t my fault and that Tony was talking crap and you can’t think of anyone more worthy to hold Mjölnir than me.”

“Well, you’re right,” Steve said, only barely surprised. “So why the hell are you still down here?”

The look Bucky threw him was too resigned for a glare. “Because we both know that’s bullshit.”

rated teen . 6k

What If I Told You by DeadWalker

Bucky tries to tell Steve something important. It takes a few tries before he gets it right.

rated teen . 8k

Sincerely, Your Pal by lettered

“[…] lesbians and gay men writing letters to their lovers and friends faced the special problem of wartime censorship. Military censors, of course, cut out all information that might aid the enemy, but this surveillance made it necessary for gay and lesbian correspondents to be careful not to expose their homosexuality. To get around this, gay men befriended sympathetic censors or tricked others by using campy phrases, signing a woman’s name (like Dixie or Daisy), or changing the gender of their friends. Sailors became WAVEs, boyfriends became WACs, Robert became Roberta. There must exist, hidden in closets and attics all over America, a huge literature of these World War II letters between lesbians and between gay men that would tell us even more about this important part of American history.” - Coming Out Under Fire: The History of Gay Men and Women In World War Two, by Allan Berube

rated mature . 65k

Your Lack Of An Answer Is Kind Of An Answer: Four Questions Natasha Asked Steve Rogers, And One Time Bucky Barnes Answered by Speranza

“All right, I have a question for you. Oh, but you don’t have to answer it. I feel like if you don’t answer it though, you’re kind of answering it, you know…”

rated mature . 4k

A Precarious, Fragile Thing by Taste_is_Sweet

“I didn’t know he did that,” Tony said. He knew Bucky liked tucking himself so far under Steve’s arm that it was like he was trying to climb into his armpit. But he’d always stayed upright, just kind of plastering himself against Steve’s side. This blanket thing was new.

“Seventy years of skin hunger,” Steve said. His voice was just as soft, but for a moment his eyes flickered hot with anger, bright as the candy-colored screen. “He was always tactile. Now, when things get…well, sometimes it helps. The contact.”

And it looked…nice, the two of them together like that: Comfortable. Familiar. Safe. Tony knew what a precarious, fragile thing it was, to feel safe in the middle of the night.

rated teen . 6k

Blood And Frost Bite by thegreennoodle

Steve took a few deep breaths. He wasn’t sure he could handle another minute with this monster. “And what about me? I’m an easy target, aren’t I? Why aren’t you killing me right now?”

The man frowned. He seemed confused as well. “I don’t want to.”

“Why did you bring me here if you won’t kill me?”

Another damn shrug. “Felt like it.”

“Oh, god,” Steve groaned. He had been taken to god-knew-where on the complete whim of a murderer. And he thought his life sucked before.

Steve’s life was normal enough. He had an average job and a crappy apartment. Boring, but he knew it could be worse. Unfortunately, it does become much worse for him when he encounters one of the most infamous serial killers in U.S. history and is swept up into his world. Steve must now do his best to survive and maintain his sanity, all the while trying to figure out what his captor really wants.

rated mature . 59k

I was wearing my blue coat by Maelipstick

Following exposure of his past as the Winter Soldier, anonymous postings of explicit video footage, 63 charges of murder and the wrath of the Internet, James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes finally steps into the limelight and tells his story to Zenat Patel of the New York Times.

rated explicit . 11k

home is the nicest word there is by sheisraging

Sometimes they’re just obnoxious to each other for the sake of being obnoxious. It must be some left over behavior from years of being in each other’s pockets. Playmates, schoolboys, roommates, army boys, lovers – there’s a lot of relationship in there. The others don’t even try to pretend they get it.

rated general . 5k

Take Me to Church by neversaydie

Steve Rogers is a struggling artist. It’s not as romantic as it sounds.

What Steve really wants is a job as a session musician. He can play enough instruments that he could make a decent amount of money doing it, but in New York there are just too many talented musicians and not enough jobs to go around. So he takes jobs in hipster bars, hotel lobbies, at weddings and bar mitzvahs and office parties.

If he gets one more request for Let it Go, he swears he’ll find it within himself to punch a child.

He lives in a tiny, shitty apartment with Sam, who was his sort-of-boyfriend for a few weeks until he decided Steve’s very domestic relationship goals weren’t for him. They’re still pretty much best friends, luckily for Steve, because when the regular pianist at Sam’s dance company runs away to Canada he’s recommended his roommate and got him the job before Steve even knows about it.

Dancers. Steve’s going to have to spend his days with dancers. Great.

rated explicit . 124k 

Team-Building Exercises by owlet

Integration into adult human social dynamics requires attention and effort. Especially with this bunch of damaged bozos.

(A series of interconnected one-shots.)

rated teen . 22k

Half of the History (We Shall Never Know) by Speranza

This is a war story.

rated explicit . 36k

Shangri-La by nimmieamee

Steve gets money, still won’t move in with Bucky, and somehow totally misses that Queer Brooklyn is an option.

rated teen . 6k

Sharp Teeth and Bird Bones by Shaish and Stringlish

I’ll always find you.

rated explicit . 32k

hold me until we crumble by queenklu

“Sam told me you were watching Antiques Roadshow,” Natasha says, shaking out her hair. “I assumed it was a national emergency.”

rated NA . 22k

G.I. Joes and 2AM Diners by OhCaptainMyCaptain

They look nothing like what they used to. Time and life have completely changed them. But as they sit there in silence, eating two halves of one cupcake, letting Brooklyn remind there where they came from, and enjoying a sky full of stars… They are those same little boys, somewhere deep down. For just a second, you’d be able to see them again.

And Bucky thinks to himself that maybe it’s little moments like these – fleeting as they may be – that remind him why life is still worth living.

rated explicit . 100k

Apes Debemus Imitari (We Should Imitate the Bees) by buckysbees

Steve operates a fruit & veg stand at a farmer’s market. Bucky keeps bees and has started up a honey shop just opposite. They’re failing to get along. Steve gets along a lot better with the anonymous friend he’s been writing letters to. In fact, he’s rapidly falling for him.

rated general . 15k

Copy Of A… by Brenda

“This…” He hesitates, a breath between heartbeats, and waits in vain for the ache to subside. “I’ve done this before.”

rated mature . 1k

just say you do by biblionerd07

Steve just wanted a job. He wasn’t expecting a marriage proposal. And he certainly wasn’t expecting to accept.

rated teen . 173k

Sparked Up Like a Book of Matches by Sena

Steve lives in Stark Tower and doesn’t have much to do when he’s not going after Hydra strongholds. He attends charity events to make Pepper happy. He goes hiking with Sam. He hangs out with Clint in Bed-Stuy and watches Dog Cops. Sometimes Tony gives him super alcohol in a sippy cup. Sometimes he sees Bucky out of the corner of his eye and wonders if it’s real or if he’s starting to lose his mind.

Alternately, the one with terrible jokes, a foot chase through the Lower East Side, and a tiny little robot named Shitcan.

rated mature . 26k

what would i try to say by Feather (lalaietha)

And maybe, maybe someday Bucky will have to tell Natalia exactly how fucking glad he is none of her attempts to set Steve up worked, and how it has nothing to do with jealousy and everything to do with how sex, sex that works, makes Steve’s walls drop like fucking water.

And how it’s hard to tell what’s worse, because if you know what you’re looking at you know how easy it would be to fuck him up and that makes him such an easy fucking target - but if you don’t, you might just do it by accident anyway.

rated mature . 1k 

Sing Me the Alphabet by thesardine

There wasn’t anything left to salvage. That’s what Fury believed. It would have been a kindness to put him down.

When SHIELD finally releases Bucky from custody, he is not the man anyone expects him to be. The ruthlessness of the Winter Soldier is gone, replaced with a child-like wariness as he struggles to communicate his warped understanding of who he is and what was done to him. But with Hydra scrambling to regroup, SHIELD takes dangerous measures to secure Zola’s algorithm to use against them, and Steve is dragged back into battle, forced to weigh what’s best for Bucky against what’s best for the fate of the free world.

Then Bucky is abducted.

Steve races to recover his friend before the man who was Bucky is gone forever. When the rescue stalls, he starts to crumble under the weight of everything he has lost and everything the war has taken from him.

Meanwhile, Bucky confronts a terrible piece of ex-SHIELD tech that was in development long before Project Insight, but in order to survive, he must decide who he is going to be: the vulnerable Bucky Barnes or the indomitable Winter Soldier? It turns out there might not be as big a difference as everyone seems to think.

rated teen . 78k

Cognitive Recalibration by stele3

The subject will need extensive re-programming.

rated teen . 7k

In the Stardust of a Song by gwyneth rhys (gwyneth)

The shudder courses through you again, there’s a vicious throb like that first touch of the ice on your skin. You don’t know this song. You don’t know any music at all.

rated mature . 9k

Make a Thing Go Right by hansbekhart

Sam meets Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes on a Thursday night, at a burlesque show, and how it happens is this:

It’s already late, later than he should be out on a weeknight, but the theme of the show was a super hero revue and there was no way he was gonna miss that. It’s loud in the venue, which is the back space of what probably used to be a warehouse right near the Gowanus Canal, and Sam’s already had a few. He’s up at the bar during the break, watching the act. He doesn’t hear someone say, “Behind!” so when he steps away from the bar, he smashes right into the guy who’d just done the Captain America routine up on stage, and knocks his drinks to the ground.

-
Or, I wanted to see more stories that captured the weirdness and complexity of being queer, in your late 20s, and trying to date in Brooklyn - which is my life - so I wrote one. Takes place in the MCU.

rated explicit . 100k

The Man On The Wall by CaseyStar

Bucky Barnes was a member of Ares 3.

Now he’s the lone man on Mars, with no communications, not enough food and no way to get home.

He’s a little fucked off about it.

rated teen . 182k

Hard to Say by betty days (sadrobots)

“What worked for me was a nice, solid punch in the face. I’m not sure that’ll do much for you, though. Looks like you’ve been through enough already,” Hawkeye said.

rated mature . 17k

Any Old Bed Of Nails by Clytaemnestra

“Bucky looks at him, through him; doesn’t meet his eyes. "I know you.”

“Yeah,” Steve says slowly, forcing words out through a throat that has just closed up. “You know me.”

Bucky nods jerkily, and produces a gun from somewhere. He offers it to Steve, handle first. “Asset reporting for debrief,” he says.

Steve doesn’t know what else to do. He takes it.“

A couple of weeks after the events of Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Bucky surrenders to Steve. Then he starts the long road to recovery. Prepare for angst. Lots of angst.

rated mature . 26k

The Tower by sarahlucielle

Peggy Carter recruits Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes to fight against Baron Zemo, a man who desires the powers of the entity that has taken a liking to Steve Rogers. The Howling Commandos search Europe for artifacts with the mission to retrieve them before Zemo’s Secret Empire can, but the Baron is ruthless and patient, willing to play the long game.

As the world explodes into a war seeped in occult forces and lead by madmen, Bucky has to admit for his own peace of mind that he’s always loved Steve Rogers and would follow him into any kind of war, no matter how strange.

Horror AU set in World War II.

rated explicit . 76k

I’m Not Sick (But I’m Not Well) by loonietuna

Steve Rogers doesn’t meet Bucky Barnes in the 1930’s. Instead, Steve meets him April 17th, 2012.

Well…sort of meets him.

In actuality, Bucky had almost hit him with his truck.

Or: The fic where millennial Bucky Barnes nearly runs over a freshly thawed national treasure, and what Steve Rogers did to adjust to modern NYC during those two weeks before the events of The Avengers.

rated mature . 29k

20th Century Limited by Speranza

"Where am I? Where is this?” and he was in Brooklyn, he was on a beach, the train was shaking around him. He was in the plane, ice splintering up onto the windshield. He was in a tank, tubes trailing from his face, from his groin. Christ, he was cold. There was still ice on his fingers. He was in the Grand Canyon. He was in Times Square. This couldn’t be Times Square. Where the hell was this? “Tell me! Where am I, who are you, where's—” —Bucky?

rated explicit . 52k

Poppies of the Field by kaasknot

“Thank you for purchasing a StarkTech Companion 'Bot! Please state your name for licensing.”

Wherein Bucky is a severely agoraphobic combat veteran, and Steve is the android he buys out of loneliness.

rated mature . 63k

This, You Protect by owlet

The mission resets abruptly, from objective: kill to objective: protect

rated teen . 64k (see note below)

Upgrade: Advanced Happiness Skills by owlet

WARNING: Reference to past sexual assault (not explicit)

Barnes’s body does a new thing. Thanks for all the trouble, body.

rated mature . 15k

NOTE: the entire series “Infinite Coffee and Protection Detail” was also submitted which can be found HERE on AO3!

Leave Me On The Mountain by perfect_plan

Bucky is certain that he’s about to die, cold and lost in this mountain forest. But just as he thinks that the wolves have him, someone finds him and takes him in.

rated mature . 18k

and never be forsaken by hitlikehammers

Truth is, Bucky’s always been giving up something, sacrificing pieces of himself on the promise that the trade would keep Steve with him, keep Steve breathing, keep Steve here.

Steve’s just never noticed, never put it all together, until now.

rated teen . 4k

Kotik by Taste_is_Sweet

No one knows Steve Rogers is a witch until he nearly dies and accidentally creates a familiar to save himself. The familiar is part cat, part ghost, and shares Steve’s soul. His name is James Buchanan Barnes.

But little boys don’t have cat ears, claws, or tails, and they’re terrible at keeping secrets. To protect them, Sarah Rogers asks a witch to make Bucky seem human, and then enchant the boys to forget he’s not.

Steve and Bucky grow up inseparable, but they don’t talk about how they know when the other’s hurting, and Bucky never tells Steve about the urge to hunt he can barely control.

He’s terrified he’s a monster, and then the War comes and then Azzano, and Bucky finds out he’s right.

And then he falls, and Hydra finds him.

(“What are you?” Steve says.

“I don’t k-know.” James looks at his hand, the sharp, curving claws, then at Steve again. “D-do you know? You made me.”)

rated mature . 59k

Catfish by L1av

Catfish /ˈkatˌfiSH/ - A catfish is someone who pretends to be someone they’re not using Facebook or other social media to create false identities, particularly to pursue deceptive online romances.

Steve Rogers is a famous movie star, known for his role as Captain America. Bucky Barnes is a bored law student who drinks too much wine. Bucky gets on match.com to boost his confidence. What he doesn’t expect is a guy using Steve Rogers’ pictures on a dating profile. Bucky decides to mess with the guy. After all, what idiot uses Steve Rogers’ pictures on a dating site?

Not like it’s really him, right? Bucky may need more wine.

rated explicit . 28k

Since I can’t remember when by euseevius

Steve Rogers is in love with James Barnes. Some people realize that sooner than others.

rated NA . 397

My Good Fellow by euseevius

”Would you marry me if I asked, Stevie?”

Or in which Steve and Bucky get married three times.

rated general . 1k

Scrap Metal by Scappodaqui an tinzelda

Steve and Bucky write each other during the war. With more than your usual inclusion of spam & jam sandwiches, chickens, radar-evasion devices, Dum Dum Dugan’s hat, and that dumb lunkhead who plays Captain America. Who’s that, Steve? Oh, just some guy I work with.

Title is a reference, in part, to this scene from The First Avenger–

Bucky: Why are you so keen to fight? There are so many important jobs.
Steve: What am I gonna do? Collect scrap metal…
Bucky: Yes!
Steve Rogers: …in my little red wagon.
Bucky: Why not?

rated mature . 31k

If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you by Scappodaqui

Bucky sometimes caught himself thinking, about the war: is all of this happening because old men saw the raw life in young men and wanted to squelch it? It was the same thing he had thought in school. Running track. When he had worked in the crew building the World’s Fair Railroad. And especially when he got his draft letter: they want to crush us like a piece of tin on train tracks.

Begins at Kreischberg prison camp, continues after the rescue.

rated explicit . 40k

steve rogers: pr disaster by @idiopath-fic-smile

“Wait,” says Sam, “you had a publicist?”

“For my first five months at S.H.I.E.L.D,” says Steve. “Then she quit. Uh, decisively.”

rated general . 4k

Some days last longer than others by crooked and notallbees

Bucky moves onto Pastor Rogers’ farm on a Sunday.

“Can’t offer you much right now,” Rogers had said with a sad twist to his mouth, “but there’s an old cabin needs fixing up, you’re welcome to camp out there and do whatever you want with it.” He laughed. “Maybe you can even teach my boy to use a hammer.”

The pastor’s seventeen year old son Steve is the last thing Bucky expects. He’s got a smart mouth, a nose for trouble, and a habit of seducing members of the football team. Bucky didn’t think he was looking for anything, but Steve ’s got his own ideas about what Bucky needs.

rated explicit . 85k

through smoke, solid ground by magdaliny

You take the arm off four days later.

rated teen . 25k

QuickPic by biblionerd07

Steve loses his phone and doesn’t think too much about it…until someone puts his pictures and texts on the internet.

rated general . 5k

All Those Things You’ve Always Pined For by LavenderProse

Steve Rogers. I haven’t thought about him in…God, at least ten years. Probably longer.“
“Who is he?” Sharon asks, and perches on the corner of his desk, hands folded in her lap. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
Bucky clears his throat, tosses the sticky note onto the desk. “Steve was…my college boyfriend. We almost got married.”

It’s been fifteen years since Bucky Barnes left Steve Rogers standing in a New York airport and never saw him again. Those fifteen years have brought him wealth and stability; everything his lower middle class Brooklyn upbringing had not provided. He is happy. He doesn’t want for anything.
He doesn’t need anything.
That’s about to change.

rated explicit . 92k

It’s possible that he wants you too by belovedmuerto

“Bucky kissed me this morning,” Steve says, not quite believing the words even as they’re coming out of his mouth.

“Wait,” Sam replies. “Back up.”

rated teen . 4k

Benefit by ibroketuesday

Saving Bucky was the easy part. The hard part is the garden parties they have to attend afterward.

rated mature . 11k

Milestones by andloawhatsit

Brooklyn 1918 to Brooklyn 2015: In which Steve questions his humanity, has a mid-twenties crisis (though he doesn’t call it that), makes friends, falls in love again, and slowly learns that he doesn’t need to live in the past to honour his memories.

This is a soulmates AU, written for bisexualstevenrogers to explore what this kind of universe would look like in the day-to-day—that is, the idea of soulmates against our actual world and histories—as well as what it might mean for someone like Steve or Bucky, who have had their bodies altered and subjected to someone else’s control. For them, I think, the idea of soulmates and soulmate tattoos—which direct you without your permission—can really highlight how much they struggle for their individuality and personal freedom (and to sort themselves out in the 21st-century).

rated teen . 54k

Friday I’m in Love by betty days (sadrobots)

barefootbucky: heyyy! sorry it took me so long to reply. hope you got the last few postcards i sent. ok so i’m in istanbul now and there’s a dirt cheap direct flight to dc. thinkin about stopping by for a bit. mind if i crash with you? the road is great and all but i think i need some time to recoup.

rated explicit . 8k

Nietzsche is Dead by mambo

“God is dead.” —Nietzsche
“Nietzsche is dead.” —God
“Doesn’t matter if God is dead, or Nietzsche, or both.” —Sam Wilson

rated teen . 10k

Under Paper Skies by InterruptingDinosaur

All Bucky wants is to get back to New York in time for his meeting, but his luck runs out when a blizzard traps him in D.C. It gets even worse when the guy looking like Bucky’s every dirty fantasy come to life catches him giggling at the erotic thrillers in the romance section of the airport bookstore.

So much for making a good first impression.

rated mature . 18k

Project Phoenix by TheAvalonian

“They told me you were enemies,” the girl said blankly. “They told me I had been forged in hatred.”

Neither Bucky nor Steve said anything for a long time. The girl stayed with her hand pressed to the glass, waiting. This time, the question was there, even if she hadn’t asked it outright.

Bucky cleared his throat, tearing his eyes away from Steve’s and pushing down on the handle. “Well, they lied,” he said gruffly, and strode out the door without looking back.

Post-TWS, Steve and Bucky’s lives are just starting to resemble some kind of normal when a young Hydra agent shows up in the lobby of the Avengers’ Tower, claiming to be their daughter.

rated teen . 73k

Past Lives by earthseraph

Steven Grant Rogers: Male, 32 years old, former Army Captain, present day art professor at NYU.

James Grant: Male, 33 years old, mysterious writer of a book that sounds a lot like Steve and Bucky’s life, told from Bucky’s point of view.

But Bucky’s dead. He died in action during the Iraq war- didn’t he?

(Or: The one where Bucky’s supposed to be dead, Steve’s supposed to have moved on, but there’s a book and two very amused friends.)

rated mature . 46k

Too Long We Have Tarried by kototyph

Bucky picks up the ring and holds it between them. “Steven Grant Rogers,” he says solemnly. “Will you marry me?”

rated explicit . 19k

Click Here to Read Full Article by thecommodore_squid

“You’re losing public favor at a dramatic rate.”

“Oh.”

Fury glared. “Fortunately, I am smart enough for the both of us and have created a narrow pathway of recovery. This option has a little bit of opportunity-cost, but I’m eighty-three percent sure that it’ll be worth it and it’ll work in the long run.” Nick paused, then amended, “Eighty-two percent.”

AKA
A Fake Dating AU in which Steve and Bucky are famous.

rated mature . 33k

Hell On Wheels by LastAmericanMermaid

Bucky Barnes is an honorably discharged soldier who was captured by enemies while on a covert op and still struggles with PTSD–

His roommate is Natasha, lead jammer for the Brooklyn Bombshells, a WFTDA roller derby team with national ranking owned by obnoxious billionaire Tony Stark.

Natasha’s derby team’s new coach is Steve Rogers, ex-army and ex-NHL, total nerd and complete life-ruining babe.

Somewhere in all the team rivalry, and the wipeouts, and the uphill climb of recovery, two dudes on skates figure out that they want to kiss each other.

rated mature . 37k

The Fifties by Speranza

"Because everything’s all right, isn’t it?” Bucky said. “Everything’s great. I’m so happy; I never thought I could be this happy. You’re happy, too, aren’t you, Peg?”

rated explicit . 28k

The Needle and the Killing Done by spitandvinegar

The asset wears blue jeans, a t-shirt, a denim jacket. The asset wears one glove. The asset walks around the city. It feels as if it remembers something. It doesn’t know what it remembers. Perhaps it remembers everything.

After two days the insects crawling over the asset’s body become intolerable. The asset uses its metal arm to attempt to remove the insects from the meat arm. The results are not satisfactory.

“What the fuck are you doing, man?” says a pile of refuse.

rated mature . 7k

Snickerdoodles Are the Way to Steve’s Heart by HMSLusitania

Steve can’t help but be a little annoyed when Natasha signs him up for a cooking class - a couple’s cooking class. At least, he’s annoyed until he meets the instructor, who might just be the most attractive man Steve has ever laid eyes on.

Featuring chef!Bucky, bitterly single Steve, and their meddling friends.

rated teen . 15k

My Arms Were Made To Hold You by portraitofemmy and rainbow_marbles

Tired of being kept awake at night by a screaming baby, Bucky decides to take matters into his own hands. Mostly he wants a good night’s sleep, but what he gets is beautiful baby boy with big blue eyes, a lonely father trying to move on from tragedy, and a chance at a family he never expected to have.

rated explicit . 55k

Acting Their Age by @ipoiledi

Prompt: Oh god I live for Steve and Bucky acting like the 20somthing they are together, loving junk food, and doing stupid things (like the time they made a sex tape and mistakenly shared it with all the avengers… and by mistakenly I mean totally on purpose because Bucky’s probably a bit of an exhibitionist too, like “LOOK, LOOK AT MY BABYDOLL, ISN’T HE GORGEOUS? AND HE’S ALL MINE, NO YOU CAN’T HAVE HIM HAHAHA”)

rated NA . ~1-2k

Steve Rogers’ Dad Face and Other Common Hazards by AggressiveWhenStartled

Today, Peter was honest-to-god going to see Captain America himself up close, in person, and not from a rooftop or tiny crevice like a creepy stalker fanboy.

Even better, he was going to watch Steve Rogers make history by soldiering his beleaguered way through the most intensely awkward and honestly ridiculous press conference in the history of ever– jaw thrust out and spine ramrod straight. Trying hard to be polite and respectful in the face of adversity.

While a bunch of assholes with cameras and microphones shouted at him about Iron Man’s adolescent dick.

rated teen . 4k

Note: The entire series called “Workplace Hazards” was also submitted and can be found HERE on AO3.

Between Their Names by Sproings

What would a background check have turned up about Steven Grant Rogers?

Hopefully not the fact that Bucky could still remember the guy’s middle name. But certainly the fact that Steve and Bucky (and Jesus how their names still flowed together in his head) had spent three years living on the same street, going to the same school.

And now they were strangers.

AKA The one where Steve teaches a knitting class, and Bucky hides in a tree, and there’s a cat named Peepers

rated mature . 20k

Off The Record by Brenda

“This is a serious coup, James. Steve Rogers has never sat down with a member of the press and given an interview. Ever. Do you know how rare that is for the fourth-string star on a cable reality show, much less the biggest movie star in the world?”

rated explicit . 9k

Series: Reciprocity by osprey_archer

A series of fics that started in 2014 but ended in 2015. Starts with the fic Self-Abuse: 

“You want me to give you a handjob,” said Steve, because he was having trouble processing this. “You can’t take care of it yourself?”

“No.” Bucky sounded annoyed. “Self-abuse makes you go blind and grow hair on your palms.”

Of course one of the few things Bucky remembered from the thirties were anti-masturbation pamphlets.

rated teen - explicit . 162k

Thaw by I_Dont_KnowWhatImDoing

Even below the layers of armor and muscle, Steve feels the bite of the cold. It’s not quite as intense or racking as it used to be back when his body was thin and offered little to protect him from the elements, but it’s present and pulling and unpleasant. It’s high on his list of immediate concerns, though not for himself. The numbness brings him back to the last time he was in Russia, 70 years earlier. But that was back when Bucky had been watching his back, alert and dependable, not glued to his front and immobile as he is now.

He’s finally found the ghost he’s been chasing. The question now is how does he bring him home?

rated explicit . 10k

Venus in Vibranium by betty days (sadrobots)

“To be a Lead’s Support is a substantial responsibility,“ Natasha says. "You must be Agent Rogers’ personal assistant, bodyguard, chef, maid, best friend, boyfriend, and whatever else he wishes you to be.”

rated explicit . 58k

The Sun & The Star by greenbergsays

There is a way these things are done; this is not it.

Or the one where Steve belongs to the Winter Soldier.

rated teen . 2k

Slide To Answer by relenafanel

"What do I do?” Steve appealed into the phone. “I’m freaking out.”

There was silence on the other end of the line. It lasted so long that Steve pulled the receiver away from his ear and frowned at it. Pay phones were old. Maybe this one wasn’t working despite the obvious dial tone when he picked up.

“Ok,” a stranger’s voice said over the phone. “First acknowledge the fact that you dialed the wrong number, but be quick about it because my cab is a few blocks away from my own plans and I’m about to drop some truth bombs on you.”

rated teen . 6k


Originally posted by drunkbroadway

That’s it! It’s been a great year of amazing fics and I can’t wait until we are all overwhelmed with the feels and inspired to make even more Stucky fic in the coming new year and the release of Civil War. Huge kudos to the dedicated writers, many listed, and the thousands that aren’t - your fics have helped make 2015 a really good year. 

Happy New Years!

MASTERPOST of all Stucky recs and rec lists!


ps - if you submitted a fic and couldn’t find it on the list, I only listed those that were written in 2015 and that were completely finished. So all WIPs will need to wait until next years list! 

The Joy and Life Inside Our Souls

For the 14 Days of Love Fic-a-thon hosted by @softkent

Also on AO3


Growing up, Ransom’s life was dictated for him. It hadn’t been intentional. The thought of planning gave him hives. So when his mom said why not be a doctor like your auntie, Ransom nodded dutifully. When his sister took up pottery for a week, he took it upon himself to take the rest of her classes at the community center by their house. When four of his cousins joined a local hockey league, Ransom followed suit. His family led him through a myriad of phases and interests.

At the end of the day, some of their ideas were truly inspired. Hockey, for instance, got him a student visa and a scholarship to Samwell. That’s where he met his best friends Lardo, Bitty and Chowder. He was also close to their goalie, Johnson. Mostly that was because he understood how to give Ransom a wide birth around exam time.

“Can’t let you drop out of college from stress,” Johnson chirped once.

Keep reading

Would Never Call It Love Part 6 | Calum Hood

Inspired by the break up scene between Ross and Rachel in Friends. THIS IS NOT THE LAST PART. Part 7 will be the last part of this story. Hopefully you all enjoy. Inbox me your thoughts!

Previous parts 1 2 3 4 5

(not my gif)


After more thrilling shows with Ashton’s sweaty hugs and the exhilarating crowd heard from miles away, we all found ourselves here back at the hotel we were all staying at after the most recent show. All except, of course, Calum and Nia. Arzalyea and I were perched on the comfy bed near the edge, while the rest of the boys were sitting on the ground in a mini circle. Michael thought it would be fun to play a drinking game, a twist on spin the bottle. Instead of kissing someone that the bottle lands on, that person gets to mix a drink for you in private and you have to drink the whole thing. We had ingredients from things like vodka to horseradish. So, by midnight my throat was burning, eyes watering, and I felt the giggles come along as time went on. 

“Y/N, since you’re the most adventurous, how about we steam it up a little?” Luke suggested.

“And how are you proposing we mix it up?” I said, then continued to drink my orange juice chaser.

“Next person the bottle lands on, you have to take a body shot from.” My face cringed at the thought, but the already coursing rum and vodka running through my body made me nod my head, wanting to prove that I don’t back down. 

“Fine Hemmings, I just hope your girlfriend won’t kill me if it lands on you sucker.” I smirked to Arz who just pretend puked, and then laughed.

I spun the bottle at a moderate pace and it started to slow near the boys side. Once the bottle stopped, it landed on my now boyfriend, Ashton. He smiled proudly, already pulled off his shirt and laying down horizontally on the bed. I covered my mouth, embarrassed, as Luke poured a sloppy shot into Ashton’s bellybutton. He giggled at the odd feeling, but his eyes dug into mine, wanting to so badly feel my lips on a pretty sensitive part of his body.

“Now drink, sucker.” Luke mocked, and I pulled my hair back using my hand. As my lips pressed into his firm stomach, my lips rounded around the hole filled with liquor, and slurped it up, even using my tongue to clean it all up. I could feel Ashton tightened under me, and I swore I could hear a faint moan escape his mouth, even over the noises of everyone in the room. I sat up setting my hair in place and cleaned my mouth with the back of my hand, smiling proudly. But the room died down in commotion when we all heard the hotel door open. I was facing away from the door while everyone was facing it dead on, and bulging eyes told me it could only be one person. My head slowly turned around before my body, meeting his eyes. 

He was clutching his phone, water bottle, and wallet all in one hand, and all stared at us with a straight face. There’s a certain way you can tell when Calum is mad. His shoulders are far more back and brooding than a normal man, his brows hand low on his face with a slight downward curve, and his bottom lip juts out more along with his chin. To make the whole situation not seem awkward, I turned back around, as Ashton brought his hand to my knee to calm me down.

“Hey bro, thought you were gonna be with Nia the entire night?” Michael asked, and stuffed his hands into his pockets.

“I broke up with her.” The whole room seemed as if someone pressed the paused button on a remote, and the whole room fell silent. The only noise to be heard was the slight ringing in the air. Everyone’s eyes, even Ashton’s, fell upon me, as if I was suppose to have some response or reaction to this statement. However, I didn’t budge, and kept my ‘non-concerned’ composure. Deep down, though, my heart began to race in my chest and got louder with each pump to the point where I almost couldn’t hear anything else.

“Nobody ask any questions, I’m going to bed. Hope you all are having fun.” He said sternly. I could feel his eyes digging into the back of my head, as he left the room to the second bedroom next door that was connected to the room we were in. As the door slammed shut, I jumped, and Ashton placed his hands on my shoulders. I heard everyone let out a shaky breathe, and the room seemed quieter than before.

“So, I think we’re going to head out, probably down at the lobby to the bar, you’re open to join us but until then, night Y/N, night Ashton.” Luke said, more hushed than his normal voice, and all 3 slipped out of the room without a single peep.

I could feel my mouth hanging open, and the build up in my chest that contemplated coming out in the form of tears, as I stared at the messy comforter beneath me.

“I think you should talk to him Y/N…” Ashton whispered, both of our heads now hanging. I trembled feeling his hands dropping from the comfortable position on my shoulders. I could feel the lump in my throat growing by the second, knowing exactly what was bound to happen either in this moment, or very very soon.

“You’re the only one who could get through to him in this time.”

“But what about us…” I looked up to find Ashton already wiping away stray tears, and sniffled.

“We both know you never really felt anything for me. Well…I personally know now.” He looked up at me with red eyes. “But I know you’ve never liked me more than a best friend.”

“Ashton-”

“It stings. It hurts. it’s…heartbreaking. But I mostly blame myself.” More tears lunged from his eyes, as I sat up and grabbed his cheeks, making sure to wipe them away as they fell, some being stopped by his growing beard.

“Don’t-don’t say that please…”

“But I do. I blame myself for taking you away from him and making you question your feelings. I blame myself for confusing you. I blame myself for taking you for my own when I didn’t even think about you, I practically took advantage of you. But mostly, I blame myself from breaking Calum’s heart.”

“W-what, do you mean? I broke him Ashton, I told him I didn’t love him when I did, it was all my fault you hear me?” He shook his head, shutting his eyes.

“No, he loved you even after all of that. And I, being the extremely selfish best friend, took his girl for myself, not even blinking an eye. And I miss him, I mean we’re Cashton. We’re best friends, bandmates, brothers. And now, I think I completely ruined our relationship for good.” He smothered his face into my palm, holding onto my hand for needed strength. I felt my own tears well up in my eyes, but held myself together for Ashton’s sake. Even though he couldn’t see me, I nodded my head to his request from before.

“I’ll do it, I’ll talk to him.” He cracked his eyes open, and began using his cotton tee to wipe around his tears. He sniffled a couple of times, before giving me a slight smile and a final kiss on the forehead.

“So I guess this is it, huh?” I asked questioningly.

“Unfortunately so.” He combed through my hair, staring at me the loving way he always has. This was the last time he’d be able to, this close, this intimately. 

“I’m going to catch up with the others. Let me know how things go with Calum please.” I nodded, watching him get up, grab his coat, and smile at me one last time before closing the door, leaving me and the Maori boy separated.

I had the courage from the fading liquor to fully open his door without a knock, and saw him lazily lounging on the bed with only his sweatpants on. The room was dark, except for his phone light on his face. I flipped the switch next to the door, and walked in further to shut the door. His eyes squinted, and he did not look at all pleased to see me of all people.

“I was trying to sleep.”

“Obviously not, you were on your phone.”

He huffed out a chuckle, and threw his phone against the plush chair in the corner of the room with enough force to see the veins in his bicep protrude. 

“Look, Calum I didn’t come in here to fight I came in to talk.”

“No, leave. Get out. I don’t even want to see you right now, I can’t look at you.”

“You have no problem looking at me when you’re basically tonguing Nia down in front of me, or giving me a death glare when I’m in Ashton’s arms!”

“Oh yeah how’s your little boyfriend? You’re little fuck buddy?”

“We just broke up Calum!” His eyes caught mine as he sat on the edge of his bed.

I strolled over to sit on the front of the bed, while he remained facing away from me on the side. “Calum, we’ve had our fair share of mistakes. I made the mistake of sleeping with Ashton while I still loved you. And even though he was different, my mind never strolled away from you. It’s always been you.” I tried to slowly lay my hand on his defined back, but he jumped up, swatting me away as if I were a fly.

“Don’t, touch me. You don’t get to come in here, tell me you love me and expect things to get better, none of what you said makes it any better, it doesn’t work that way!”

I couldn’t say anything, I knew I was the one in the wrong when it came to him and I. If I never would’ve told him I didn’t love him, and then try to jeopardize his new found relationship with my own selfish feelings, this all wouldn’t have unraveled this way.

“You’re the one who bailed, you’re the one who ran away from your feelings when I broke our most implemented rule. And besides the lying problem, we have this whole problem to fix! How are you going to solve it? If you really love me like you say you do, how do you plan to make things better!”

“Calum…I did something, so incredibly stupid and selfish of me. I lied to you, I slept with someone else to get over you, I ruined your obviously better relationship because of my own love for you which isn’t fair to you or Nia. And as much as I would jump at the chance to redo everything…I can’t.” My voice was now cracking at this point due to fast hot tears flowing down my cheeks.

“But in the end I know that what we have is so much better than any other connection we could have with anyone else. What we have is something more than just a good fuck here and there, it was a growing friendship and genuine love for one another. In reality you are my best friend Cal, and the only person I’ve ever felt anything like this before. I love you Calum…”

I swiftly grabbed his hand, and brought it to my lips but again he jumped even farther away from me.

“I won’t just fall limp in your arms like I always have this time Y/N! I have always came back to you! Not again! ” He pointed a solid pointer finger at me, emphasizing his words directly toward me. “I think you need to leave, and I think you should get back together with Ashton.” He slowly walked toward the door to open it for me, but I quickly got up and pulled his shoulder to look at me but he didn’t even flinch, but however did stop in his tracks.

“No, no Cal we can work this out, the love we have for each other will help us work this out, finally, together!”

“Well that love fading.” My heart cracked at his words, hearing that he could possibly be falling out of love with me because of my own actions completely ripped me apart.

“Look, we have to work this out. There’s got to be a way Calum…please…” I ran in front of him and placed my pleading hands on his visible pecks, feeling his rapidly beating heart against my palms. “I don’t know what to do without you, I have nothing without you. There’s a void in my heart that can only be filled with you, I need you so badly…” My crying eyes looked deep into his now deep brown ones, feeling as if our souls were connecting as his bottom lip began to quiver.

“I don’t know what I would do without these gorgeous arms that protected me and kept me safe,’ I placed a kiss on his bicep, ‘without these hands that kept mine warm even if your own were frozen,’ I kissed his fingers, ‘without this cheeks that held a smile so bright and alive that I didn’t need to look at another art piece in the world,’ I kissed his cheek, ‘without these eyes that spoke to me when words weren’t needed,’ I kissed his eyelashes, ‘and without your heart, your amazing love-filled heart Calum.” I ended with kissing his chest, my lips longing to stay on his heated skin. For a minute, I could feel him want to grab me and hold me there for eternity, afraid of ever losing me again, but instead, he just stayed lifeless in front of me, his arms staying down by his sides.

“I can’t do it…you’re so different from when I first met you, you’re like this completely different person I don’t even know anymore. Whenever I look at you, I see Ashton,,,lying above you like when I caught you two…” 

At this point, Calum Hood had finally cracked.

“Just like I’m sure you see Nia’s face when you look into mine…”

“No, Calum no. All I see is you. Your beautiful, fun loving, kind hearted soul. You’re the best person there is and I’ll always see you, as you.”

“These couple months have completely changed everything Y/N…whether you like it or not…I just can’t keep doing this with you. All the lying, the sleeping around, the putting yourself before anyone else.” I looked up at him, trying to find in his eyes if he was telling the truth. He was.

“I would have given up everything I have, for you. I would’ve put myself in danger before I let so much as a finger lay on you. But now…those feelings are fading, because for once I am going to put myself before anybody else. It’s my turn to have some happiness.”

I pulled away, hand covering my mouth while the other laid on my hip.

“But this can’t be it I mean…this can’t be the end of us Calum…”

His never left my figure as he took in my physique one last time. The way my hair fell onto one side as I flipped it, the way my foot twitched because of my anxiousness, the way I bit my nail trying to for-see what was to come after this moment.

“Then how come it is?”

And this was the moment, I finally cracked.


Part 7 if y’all really want to know how this ends! I left this at a stand off point, but I have plans for a part 7. This part actually made me choke up because this Friends scene kills me. Request loves!

5

New York EDITION Hotel Artwork

Here is what has become of my Eagle Owl illustration, which I made in early March. Like my hotel artwork from last year, this is now decorating the bar of a hotel by EDITION – the boutique project from Ian Schrager and Marriott. In this case, the Lobby Bar at New York EDITION, which is now open in the old Met Life Insurance Tower overlooking Madison Square Park. (Mini-history: for 3 years after its completion in 1909 the tallest building in the world.)

My owl has been beautifully interpreted by the design folks at EDITION. First, for “Magic Owl Easy Blonde Ale,” as if sitting in a dim room, in low light, eyes glowing against what might be old-fashioned wallpaper. Then, for a coaster, against a background as dark as night.

As with all my other hotel-work samples, I’ve greedily collected and stored these in an acid-free archive box. Which probably seems ridiculous, but they are like treasures to me. The thrill of holding something in real life that you’ve helped create is – potent.

He Won’t Be Bothering You Anymore

Warnings- talks of fat/slut shaming, death

A/N- “I would really like a James Patrick March imagine where the reader is plus size. Maybe she’s at a bar hanging out with Liz Taylor(she’s queen) and a drunktard starts saying rude things about the reader and James pops out of nowhere . Maybe slits the guys throat… idk”

Requested by @lizardqueen123456

It’s about 1:00 A.M. and you’re having trouble sleeping. No matter how much you toss and turn you can’t seem to get comfortable. After about 30 minutes of pure annoyance you decide to get up and take a walk around the hotel. You stroll down to the lobby and pass the bar where you see Liz standing over the counter, reading a book, and tapping her red stiletto nails on the surface. You notice another man sitting across the way from Liz, seemingly drunk. Liz whistles at you to get your attention and motions you to a bar stool. You sit down and she pours a concoction of alcohols together. She slides it over the counter and you grip the cup. 

“So, what brings you down here so late?” Liz asks, looking over her reading glasses.

“Couldn’t sleep” you respond, taking a swig of your drink.

She hums in response and continues to read her novel. In the distance you hear a scoff, so you turn your attention to the direction from which it came from. You make eye contact with the man you noticed earlier. He snarls rudely and takes a long drink from his hard liquor. You raise an eyebrow in confusion and he slams his glass down, making you jolt. 

“You disgust me” the man slurs.

“Excuse me?” You retort.

He scoffs again and turns to face you.

“You’re a disgusting pig, I’ve never been more appalled in my life at such a sight. A woman ruining her body” he drawls, stumbling over to you, coming rather close to your face.

You look at him with wide eyes, completely flabbergasted at his repulsive comments. 

“And you’re dressed like a complete slut, your fat is overflowing from that clothing” he says, crinkling his nose.

Liz slams her book on the bar and points her manicured figure at him. “You listen here, you will not speak to her like that! Get out of my bar!” 

He looks at her with a raging scowl and ignores her demands. He points his finger sharply into your chest and breathes in your face. “You are a fat pig.”

Your eyes begin to water from a mixture of anger and hurt. Seeing you upset gives him pleasure and he laughs maniacally. Just then a blade glides straight over his throat. He chokes uncontrollably and drops to the floor, soaking in his own pool of blood. After he drops to the floor you see a tall man, slick black hair, mustache definite over his lip. He smiles widely at you and steps over the man. 

“He won’t be bothering you anymore, dear” he says in a dapper accent.

You nod, still in shock of what has taken place. 

“My name is James, James March. And you are?” He asks, presenting his hand.

“Y/N, Y/N L/N” you respond, accepting his hand.

“Pleasure to meet you Y/N, what do you say I buy you another refreshment?” he asks, gesturing towards Liz to make another beverage.

“Uh, sure, what about…” you say, pausing once you see the man’s dead corps on the ground.

“Not to worry dear, I’ll take care of that later.”

Chicago Freestyle Places

Here is the list of places to freestyle in Chicago:

• HUB 51/SUB 51: 51 W Hubbard St ( athletes spotted)
• CHICAGO CUT: 300 N LaSalle Blvd ( athletes and celeb)
• STUDIO PARIS: 59 West Hubbard St (athletes spotted)
• UNDERGROUND
• JOES SEAFOOD, PRIME STEAK, & STONE CRAB: 60 E Grand Ave. ( dress to impress)
• PUBLIC HOUSE: 400 N. State Street ( sport bar)
• Lobby Bar at PALMER HOUSE HILTON
• Drumbar
• Maude’s Liquor Bar
• Three Dots and a Dash
• Nellcôte
• RM champagne
• BARRELHOUSE FLAT
• Cindy’s at athletic association
• the Office
• the Berkshire Room
• CH Distillery
• the Bedford
• The charcoal bar ( dinner have first only inmate 12 seating)
• Roof of the Wit


If you have good places in Chicago to freestyle, feel free to add!

Clichés: Chapter 2

Someone asked me to tag them in this so they could know when it was updated…but i’m a moron and didn’t write their url down. So if you wanna be tagged/mentioned when there’s an update, send me an IM or an ask. I’ve added a button on my blog that will allow you to read Clichés in chronological order.


Once your blush faded away and you were composed enough to not look like an idiot that was in love with their boss, you went to go talk to your other boss, the one that you weren’t majorly crushing on. Not that Jack Morrison wasn’t attractive with those stunning blue eyes and sexy blonde hair and fit, muscular body with arms that probably felt like heaven lying in… what was the point again?

You walked up to him just as that bitchy reporter was leaving. You could see the frown on her pretty face as she huffed and turned away, walking towards the elevator with purpose. Jack groaned once she was out of sight, those blue eyes you had just been thinking about rolling in annoyance.

“Didn’t think she was ever gonna leave.” He huffed, turning around and sitting on top of your desk. You moved to stand beside him, offering a comforting smile.

“How’d it go?” You asked him, eyes darting to the mug of coffee resting dangerously close to the corner of your desk. The coffee you made that morning was no doubt cold and gross by now, but if it spilled, you’d have to clean it up. Or the janitor, Jamison, would and he could be a little intense. Luckily Jack seemed to notice the mug on the brink of suicide and picked it up before he accidentally knocked it over.

“She didn’t take it well, but she’ll be out of our hair for now,” He informed her, “‘World’s Okayest Secretary’?” He read the text on the mug, deep chuckle escaping his lips.

“Yes, it was a Christmas present from Mister Reyes.” You recalled the memory fondly.

Keep reading

Across the Hall (Part 1)

I’d just like to say that general admission for the Museum of Fine Arts in Houston was free the day after the concert, and bitch I love me some art/history/free things, so my friend and I went and I loved it. This is going to be kind of an exaggeration of my actual experience going to this concert with my best friend, so I hope you like it! Anywhooo………I’m gonna try to write my first smut, okay? Okay. Let’s see how this goes!

Fluff/Smut/Angst

Kwon Jiyong x Reader

____________________

“God, I still can’t believe it’s here. Can you believe it?”

I shook my head and chuckled, keeping my eyes on the road ahead of me while my best friend, Ash, set up a playlist of G-Dragon’s set list. It was finally here, and even at the beginning of a 3.5-hour road trip to Houston, we couldn’t calm our nerves. It might have been eight in the morning the day before the concert, but we were determined to have a little fun before we had the best time of our lives. Plus, it wouldn’t hurt if we just happened to run into the one and only Kwon Jiyong.

“I know, I still can’t believe I made the fucking impulse decision to buy the damn tickets with my entire paycheck. And maybe without my parents being too entirely happy with it.”

“Honestly, let’s not even talk about it. Like Meme said, let’s just go and have fun!” I smiled at the nickname for my grandma. She was so pumped for this concert for me that I almost felt bad for not buying her a ticket. After all, she was the only person in my family that would jam to Kwon Jiyong’s newest album and fangirl over T.O.P. with me.

“That’s true, I guess. But thank God we both found good paying jobs. Oh, and probably also that you were able to get off for the rest of this week! Could you imagine doing this with the little money we made before we got our degrees?” We laughed at the thought of traveling to Houston with the small amount of money we made at our part time jobs. Ash was working at a hospital closer to home after graduation until she would move on to grad school in California, and I was lucky to land a training job with a Fortune 500 company that allowed me to work from home, traveling occasionally, and keep my law internship before moving on to law school. To say the very least, we were lucky.

“I know, right? We wouldn’t have been able to afford this nice ass hotel we’re staying at, either. It would have been the Rat-Hole 6 or something.” She laughed, taking a swig from the coffee cup I had just placed in the cup holder.

“Hey! Should’ve gotten your own!” I chastised, but smiled. “So true. I guess we could call this our late graduation present.”

Ash agreed with me, and we soon slid into a comfortable silence, jamming out to the songs we would soon hear live with our own ears.

Keep reading

False Hatred

Author: SPNCMSHSVU
Pairing: Hotch x Reader
Warning: None
Summary: You and Hotch absolutely loathe each other’s existence, or do you really?
Request: “can i get a hotchxreader where he+reader seem like they hate each other, but they actually are in love with each other? :3 please and thank you !” 
A/N: Hey, hows everyone doing? I’m going through a hard time, so right now writing smut is very difficult. This was literally the only request in my box that wasn’t smut. I’m sorry it’s so short. I might take it down and rewrite it actually. How is everyone liking that I’ve added SVU to this blog? I haven’t gotten any requests from it! 



“You’re really annoying.” You spat as you slid down your chair in the jet, tilted your head back and closed your eyes.

 “You’re childish and you know I can fire you.” Hotch coolly replied without taking his eyes off the case file.

Keep reading

Reigning Madness – Chapter 30

Masterlist

Disclaimer: Fiction.

Warnings: None for this chapter

Tagging: @hazeleyedleto @msroxyblog @letojokerownsme @miss-shannanigans @snewsome756   @maliciousalishious   @nikkitasevoli@meghan12151977 @mindlessselfindulgence88 @sanellv @ambolton@jayded-reality @bradlea23@spillinginkwithlove @alexis7215@dezmarz@pezziecoyote@whoistheprettiest @avaj99  @iridescxntsolitude @pheenixpeterson @guccilowell


         Shannon’s POV

I felt a heavy weight settle in the pit of my stomach as Jared closed himself off. This was finally taking a toll on him. What hurt me the most was the I knew I had a part in why he was feeling the way he was.

And not to mention Caroline probably wasn’t happy with me right now. After all, I did manage to run away from her, only stopping outside the door to wait until Cynnamon stormed off into her bedroom.

I’d heard part of the fight between her and Jared. Looks like she was showing her true colors by threatening Jared. I felt like punching her for hurting Jared like that. I’ve never hit a woman before… but she wasn’t a woman. She was the fucking devil.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

32 Dean Ambrose

Originally posted by vaniwin


Note: This is part of a fic I started writing, but don’t think I’ll ever finish hence the length as I used parts of it. (It’s literally 3000 words)

32.  “I want you. Do you want me?”

“Argh, I can’t!”

“No! No! No! You have to tell him you like him!“ Becky was practically dragging her down the seemingly never ending hallway. “I’m not having ya’ sulking no more! Go tell him! Tell him!” She chanted as she pointed her finger at his door then ran away giggling. “Text me in the morning!”

The alcohol that was in her empty stomach began to churn as she used the door frame to steady herself. She hated that she was so bothered by him, but she needed to get some things off her chest.

Although they had spoken to each other little in the past 10 days since he kissed her that night in the bar, it was nothing more than casual pleasantries. It wasn’t that she wanted him to show his undying love for her, but she’d hoped he would maybe asking her for a drink or to go get some food. Then again she knew that you can hardly go on a date when you don’t get off work till near midnight and then have to drive city to city constantly.

After taking a deep breath, She rapped her knuckles few times on the door. Praying that the room number Becky gave her was his, imagining Vince McMahon’s red face opening the door to a drunk rookie at goodness knows what time it was.

Keep reading

Distance

Promnis, ~2500 words. Sad and sweet. 

Another AU no one asked for. Someone mentioned long distance relationships and I tripped and fell on my keyboard. I’m a Chicago girl, so please excuse the descriptions of LA and New York if they’re not entirely accurate. Mood is the guitar on Richard Edward’s Lil’ Dead Eye-d because I was listening to it on repeat last time I was in New York and the soft, sad harmonies are beautiful and fit even if the lyrics don’t. AO3 Link, because I’m weak and am stupid excited to actually post something. Thanks to @goramidiot for reading over this and assuring me that it was not, in fact, entirely self indulgent crap  ♡

New York is cold.

Prompto stands in front of Ignis’s building, shivering violently in his hoodie and jeans as the rain pours down around the leaking plastic canopy above him. He hadn’t packed a jacket- hadn’t packed much of anything, really, other than a change of clothes and a few extra pairs of socks. He’s beginning to regret the fact now.

The building towers in front of him, painting quite the imposing picture with its barred lobby windows and rough gray stone façade that matches the color of the angry sky. He remembers it having been far more welcoming than it appears now. Prompto’s fingers hover over the plastic nameplate set next to the door, hesitating at the top when he reaches the name Scientia spelled out in Ignis’s neat handwriting.

For the first time since he stepped onto the plane in Los Angeles, Prompto considers that this might not have been the best of ideas. Ignis might not be home, after all. He might even have other guests. But it had been hard to stay entirely rational when he’d uncovered a box of old photos tucked away in the back of his closet. Most were landscapes, artistically filtered shots of the sun setting over the hills or various, nameless faces mingling through midday crowds, but somewhere near the bottom Prompto had found an envelope and several rolls of film marked “road trip” in big, sloppy letters. Inside was an album’s worth of loose photos taken over the course of two weeks when they’d made a vacation out of packing up Noct’s apartment and moving him out east. Scattered among the selfies and shaky shots taken through rolled down car window was Ignis, laughing across the front seat and suddenly Prompto’s heart had ached.

He’d caught the next flight out.

Prompto sighs and presses the buzzer, shifting his weight from foot to foot anxiously as he waits.

After a long pause, Ignis’s voice crackles over the intercom. “Yes?” he asks with the curt intonation of someone who is not expecting guests.

“Hey Iggy.” Prompto replies, feeling a bit sheepish as he fidgets in the cold. “Surprise?”

There is a beat of silence before Ignis responds, “…Prompto?”

“Can I come up?”

The loud sound of buzzing seems to echo off the buildings around him and Prompto pulls hard on the metal door.

*

“You didn’t tell me you were coming,” Ignis says, five flights of stairs later when Prompto sets his small suitcase down roughly on the floor. Ignis stands in the open doorway, dressed casually in dark jeans and a pale blue collared shirt with the top button undone. Prompto’s heart skips a beat at the sight; it takes all the self-control he possesses not to fall into Ignis’s arms right there in the hallway. He wonders if the neighbors would mind.

Instead he gives a small, embarrassed laugh and shrugs. “I didn’t really know I was coming either.”

Warmth radiates from Ignis’s apartment as Prompto steps inside and out of his wet shoes. Inside, at least, hasn’t changed much since last time he was here. The place is small in the most comfortable sense dominated by a kitchen decidedly too large for the apartment’s footprint, the marble covered island acting as a focal point for the entire room. There isn’t much by the way of decoration, just a few framed art prints and several of Prompto’s photos scattered across the stark white walls, but the whole thing still seems like an image out of a magazine.

“You could’ve called,” Ignis says, closing the door with a gentle click behind Prompto. “I could’ve sent someone to pick you up.”

“I thought you might say no.”

“Have I ever?”

Prompto smiles and steps forward, resting his arms on Ignis’s shoulders. “Plenty of times,” he teases, “you’re just too polite to say it outright.”

Ignis hums in acknowledgment, settling his hands on the small of Prompto’s back in return. “I have to be at the restaurant tonight,” he mumbles apologetically, “You’re welcome to stay here if you’d like.”

Prompto shakes his head, “Nah, I’ll come with.”

Ignis smiles.

They walk through the brightly lit streets side by side under the cover of one old umbrella, one of Ignis’s jackets draped over Prompto’s shoulders. Ignis tucks his cane under his arm, allowing Prompto to guide him through the busy streets, though Prompto thinks it is more for his benefit than Ignis’s. The other man directs him more often than not, telling him when and where to turn, calling his attention back when Prompto is momentarily distracted by the myriad of people who cross their path.

New York overwhelms Prompto. It stretches out around him in all directions like a densely packed labyrinth, a mosaic of crumbling old buildings set among the sparkling new, each filled to the brim with people pressing around as far as his eyes can see. He’s become used to the relaxed air of Los Angeles, where people only seem to crowd the beachfront and mingle along the boardwalks with an aimless, carefree air, their only purpose to enjoy the breeze that floats in from the ocean. Everyone here seems to be in a hurry, darting around each other and across streets with a determination that Prompto can’t seem to understand. He wonders how Ignis manages.

There is already a line queued outside the restaurant when they arrive. Ignis doesn’t take reservations- a subtle slight to the city’s elite- but the fact keeps the place less exclusive and always busy. They enter through an unassuming door in the back, and Prompto is quickly introduced to a host of chefs and servers whose names he forgets almost as soon as they are given. He shakes their hands anyway, grateful for their friendly smiles, before Ignis steers him out into the dining room.

“Thoughts?” he asks, and Prompto is fairly certain he can hear a note of uncertainty in his tone. Prompto understands. It isn’t Ignis’s first restaurant, but it is the first since the accident. Ignis had only just negotiated the rent on this location last time Prompto had been to New York. He has seen pictures posted among the restaurant reviews he had searched online, but it is surprisingly different in person. Prompto takes a step into the room and away from Ignis and turns slowly, admiring. The space is both comfortable and modern, set with abundant warm, dim lights that cast an intimate atmosphere over a sea of industrial style decor. Bits of steel pipe and copper accents glint around the room and lighten the weight of the dark, roughly hewn tables.

“It’s amazing,” Prompto says sincerely and Ignis scoffs lightly, “No, really. I love it, Iggy.”

“Noctis helped,” Ignis supplies, “The glass menu boards were his idea.”

Prompto swallows a small pang of jealousy and smiles, “You guys did great.”

Ignis shows him to a seat at the bar, close enough to the kitchen that Prompto can hear the sound of his voice rising over the clattering of pots and pans as he addresses his staff. Prompto resists the urge to follow, to slip his arms around Ignis’s waist and press his cheek to the other man’s back while he cooks, like they used to years ago when an entire country hadn’t separated them. Ignis doesn’t cook much at this point, his presence more for guidance than anything else, but Prompto still finds himself straining to catch glimpses of him working through the small window to the kitchen.

Before long, the doors open and a steady stream of customers fill up the space. Prompto watches them idly from his seat, fingers itching for the camera he’d left back in Ignis’s apartment. From time to time, Ignis appears with a small army of servers from the kitchen, placing dish after impeccably plated dish in front of him to try along with the correct pairing of wine. Most of them are so pretty that Prompto feels like he’s destroying a piece of artwork when he digs his fork in.

After the third set of dishes have been cleared away and a warm feeling of complacency has settled over him, Prompto can’t help leaning across the bar, kissing Ignis gently and delighting in the way the other man smiles against his lips. The couple sitting next to him glances over with curious eyes, but Prompto is too content to be embarrassed and Ignis doesn’t seem to mind.

They take a cab home at the end of the night. Prompto ignores the questions from the driver in the front seat, too distracted pressing warm kisses against the edge of Ignis’s jaw to pay any attention to the city lights that speed by outside the window.

Ignis chuckles and gently removes Prompto’s fingers from where they have begun undoing the buttons on his shirt, instead lacing their fingers together and kissing Prompto’s knuckles softly. “Tomorrow,” he promises, voice low, and Prompto shivers.

He falls asleep that night in a sea of down blankets, content in the warm circle of Ignis’s arms.

*

Prompto is awakened the next morning by the feeling of a soft weight settling on the edge of the bed. For a moment, he’s convinced it is Ignis returning to wake him and rolls over to make room. But the weight shifts along the center of the bed, stepping lightly onto his chest. Prompto opens his eyes and finds himself staring into the face of a large cat with bright green eyes and long, white fur dusted with dark brown and orange patches. It mews at him demandingly and presses its head into his hand as he reaches up to stroke it.

“You have a cat now?” he asks Ignis when he arrives in the kitchen, the cat following at his heels. The smell of something baking, sweet and warm, drifts from the oven and makes Prompto’s stomach growl audibly.

“Paprika.” Ignis confirms with a nod. It takes Prompto a moment to realize that Ignis is telling him the name of the cat, not asking for Prompto to fetch him a spice from the pantry, “I’m told the name suits her rather well.”

The cat pads its way across the kitchen, pausing to press the length of her body languidly against the back of Ignis’s legs. He smiles, reaching down to offer her a small piece of bacon, which she sniffs before daintily biting and bounds off toward the fire escape outside the open window.

The entire exchange is so domestic that Prompto can’t suppress the wide smile that steals across his face, “I didn’t think you were a cat person.”

“I’m not. She followed me home from the restaurant one day and hasn’t left,” he says, a small smile turning up the corner of his own lips, “much like someone else I know.”

Prompto laughs and shoves Ignis’s shoulder gently, earning him a wider smile in return. Momentarily emboldened, he reaches forward, dodging the spatula that swipes at his fingers as he steals his own piece of bacon directly from the pan and turns to pour himself a cup of coffee. Task accomplished, he climbs onto the counter next to the stove, feet swinging idly below him as he watches Ignis cook.

“How long are you staying?” Ignis asks eventually over the soft sound of frying.

Prompto pretends to consider, humming gently. “Forever?” he jokes, grinning around the bacon currently burning his tongue.

“That could be arranged,” Ignis chuckles. For a moment Prompto is silent, lost in daydreams of waking up this way every morning, instead of to his cold bed and empty apartment back home. As if reading his mind, Ignis adds, “There are photography jobs in New York, you know.”

Prompto snorts gently into his coffee in response, “And people need to eat in L.A. too.”

Ignis frowns at the pan in front of him and Prompto instantly regrets his reply.

He knows what Ignis is going to say before he has even opened his mouth. ‘The restaurant is at a critical stage right now, leaving right now would be impossible,’ or something similar enough. It’s a conversation they’ve had enough times over the years that Prompto can walk through the steps of the argument almost as though it were a well-rehearsed dance. It’s a conversation that leaves Prompto feeling cold and unreasonable, ultimately not enough, though he knows those kinds of thoughts are unfair.

It would be easiest for him to move here, to settle into Ignis’s life and the soft sheets of his bed permanently, but if Ignis recognizes this, he is tactful enough to never point it out. Admittedly, Prompto toys with the idea from time to time, but the thought of leaving the warm waters and sunsets of California for the city that sprawls outside Ignis’s windows makes him fidget with sudden anxiety. He isn’t sure if it is the change of scenery or the fear of agitating the fragility of their current arrangement that causes it. Either way, it seems better not to risk it.

Instead, Prompto grabs Ignis by his belt loops, tugging slightly to turn him before pressing their lips together in a kiss he hopes serves as an apology.

Ignis presses his lips gently to Prompto’s forehead in return when they part, and turns back to his pan.

They don’t bring up moving again.

*

Ignis takes the day off. He offers to take Prompto to central park, but they somehow never make it out the door, instead falling into bed repeatedly until Ignis gives up on suggesting they leave. The sound of traffic filters in through the partially open windows along with the overcast light, and Prompto drifts in and out of sleep, his heart full.  

*

He leaves the next morning.

Ignis stands with him at the curb, holding an umbrella against the soft drops of rain that have begun to fall again, as they wait for a driver to arrive.

“Are you certain you don’t want me to accompany you?” he asks.

“C’mon, Iggy,” Prompto laughs, “It’s just the airport. I can handle it.”

Ignis nods. They’re both aware it’s not exactly the truth, that Prompto would like nothing more than to spend another half hour with his hand tucked safely into Ignis’s, but it’s easier for them both to say their goodbyes here. Ignis opens his mouth slightly, before closing it with a gentle frown, and Prompto bites his bottom lip.

He wonders if actually saying the words would change things for either of them.

“Noct’ll be back from London next month,” he says instead, “You’re coming to the party Gladio and I are throwing, right?”

Ignis’s regards him with a small, sad smile. “Of course. I wouldn’t miss it.“

Moments later, the car arrives, tires squealing slightly as it pulls to a stop beside the curb. Prompto steps to meet it, placing his bag in the trunk before turning to call his final goodbye with a small wave that is more a matter of habit. Ignis stays at the curb even after they have pulled away; Prompto watches him through the back window until the car reaches the corner and Ignis is suddenly lost from sight.

Around him the city speeds by, a sea of faces blending together as they accelerate.

Prompto shivers, suddenly cold.

10

CitizenM - Tower of London

This hotel is rad as hell, man! It has such a cool modern feel all through out! From the self check-in to the iPad controlled room, the whole experience feels futuristic!

This hotel doesn’t make you feel at home, it makes you feel like you’re on vacation! It’s exciting and unique! It’s full of provocative yet tasteful art, bold colors, beautiful lighting and an all around cool vibe!

The decor, colors and materials used throughout the lobby, lounge and bar area create a very warm and inviting environment. No matter where you go, you feel comfortable and welcome.

The rooms have a more minimalist vibe but with fun features to customize. The extra large bed is insanely comfortable and is right against the window for the best views right while you sleep in! The window has a cool shade for letting in soft light or a solid shade that basically blocks all invading light.

The TV has channels to watch or you can mirror videos/Netflix/music from your iPad/iphone right to the TV! The outlets here have the British outlets, European and American outlets which is hella helpful if this is your mainstay from outside of the U.K. and hadn’t picked up a converter for your plugs yet!

The shower has got to be one of the coolest things in these rooms. I couldn’t quite get a good shot of it’s effect but the light in it that radiates through the translucent glass can be changed to a wide myriad of colors that best suit your mood. The stark white walls and decor along with the mirror all help fill the room with whatever color your vibin too! It’s really rad! Plus the lights in the mirror are PERFECT for mirror selfies (as seen above).

The views from my window as you can see was fantastic and that was just floor 3. The view from the 7th floor bar was even better. A balcony that wrapped around half the building showed Londons epic skyline marvelously.

Atop all of this fantasticness was an extremely attentive and good spirited staff! Eager to please and even recognize my wants before I had even had a chance to look for someone to ask! They really sealed the deal on a wonderful stay!

10/10 would recommend to anyone from business professional to party seeking tourist! These guys can be found all over the world and if you find yourself considering a stay with them, do yourself a favor and become a Citizen!

Thanks for having me guys!
-nik hampshire