#-10 does not “become” +10 when you “bring it over” to the other side of the equation! you are adding ten to both sides of the equation and

[feelbokkie]

L♡VE IN F♡CUS | Chapter 10

PAIRING: idol!Changbin x fem reader

WARNINGS: mention of food and eating

GENRE: smau, crack, angst, fluff

P♡V: 1st/2nd person (depending on how you view it)

SUMMARY: Amateur concert photographer Y/n has recently been promoted to junior music journalist. Her first assignment? An exposé on the popular Kpop boy group, Stray Kids. Spending an entire tour doing in depth interviews with eight men seems simple enough, but one member isn't exactly open to the idea. Will Y/n be able to break down the walls around his heart, or will her big break turn into a big disaster?

TAGLIST: closed

W♡RD C♡UNT: 1,912

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©feelbokkie (2024) — all rights reserved. reposting/modification of any kind is not tolerated.

“Noona, is your camera water resistant?”

You look up from your spot on the floor to find Seungmin hovering over you with a mischievous glint in his eyes. His hair has gotten longer over the past couple of months. Strands of his hair are thrown in all different directions, you can't tell if he just finished getting it styled or if he just got done roughhousing with Changbin. You've grown accustomed to his screaming so even if it was the latter, you didn't notice. His face is bare and slightly damp from having just finished shaving. He tilts his head to the side, waiting for your answer with big eyes and an open smile.

“Seungmin, if you splash me with water, I will buy a water gun at one of the next stops and ruin your day.” You sigh as you carefully set your camera on the floor.

“Is that a promise?” Somehow, his smile gets wider. You can almost imagine a tail wagging excitedly behind him.

Shit.

"Seungmin! It's your turn to get your hair done!" One of their hair stylists calls from the other side of the room.

"Coming!" Seungmin calls back sweetly. Seungmin turns back to you and winks before happily skipping off to get his hair done.

After being teased by Seungmin the entire time the two of you explored Osaka for his one-on-one time with you, you're almost certain that you've become his new favorite target. You’re not even sure why, your reactions aren’t even that great. But still, he does a silly little prank like making you turn your head so he can poke your cheek or asks if he can take a picture of you with your phone only to take several selfies instead and die laughing.

You can’t help but let out a small laugh as you pick up your camera again. While the group is busy getting ready for the show, you’re sitting in the corner by an outlet charging your batteries, double-checking the SD cards, and cleaning all of your lenses. You really only need one battery and SD card but you want to be prepared in case you need to switch them in the middle of the show.

You turn to your side when you notice someone coming up and sitting close to you. You can't help the small smile that creeps up on your face when you realize that it's Jeongin. He doesn't say anything, instead, he brings his knees to his chest, rests his head on them, and pulls out his phone. You look around the room and confirm your suspicions when you see Felix, Jisung, and Minho in front of the talker camera. He knows that if he sits close enough to a staff member, whoever is filming will leave him alone. And since you’re not planning on moving anytime soon, he’s safest next to you.

“Noona, can you take a picture of my hair for me? I can reach the back and everyone else is busy.” Hyunjin comes up to you, holding his phone in his hands.

Hyunjin’s hair doesn’t look any different from how it looked earlier. It's still black and mostly straight, framing his face perfectly. Still, you know he was sitting in the hair stylist’s chair longer than he normally does so something must’ve changed and you can’t see it.

“Sure, but can you sit? I’ve been down here for too long, I think I’m stuck like this,” You try straightening out your legs but the pain that shoots out from them stops you.

Hyunjin nods happily before handing you his phone and kneeling with his back facing you. You fix the settings of the phone camera so you can take the best possible picture for him. When you look up, ready to take the picture, Hyunjin has put his hair in a little bun. The bun reveals that he buzzed off the underside of his head again. In the bottom corner, he has a small heart and the word 'Stay' shaved into it.

"Oh, you did an undercut again?" You ask softly so as to also not disturb Jeongin's peace and quiet.

"Yeah, I've been getting hot and my hair is too long." He turns around with a bright smile. You quickly snap a picture of him before motioning him to turn back around. "I might leave my hair down for now and reveal it during 'So Good.'"

Click.

"Let someone on the camera crew know so they can be sure to zoom in on the 'Love Stay.'" You take a few pictures of his hair, some from different angles, before tapping him on the shoulder and handing back his phone. "Can you send those to me? I might be able to use them."

Hyunjin smiles and nods vigorously as he checks the pictures on his phone. Instead of getting up, he sits facing you, still on his phone. After a few moments, you feel your phone go off in your pocket.

"Take a picture of my hair too!" Felix yells, running over with his phone.

"Ah, Yongbokkie, that's too loud." Hyunjin laughs as he scoots over so Felix can sit in front of you.

"Sorry," Felix says sheepishly. He starts patting his pockets before freezing. "Ah, I don't have my phone."

"Here," Hyunjin hands you his phone again so you can take pictures of Felix's hair for him.

Felix has been documenting all of his hairstyles from the tour so far. You could probably fill up an entire magazine of all of his hairstyles alone. Today, his hair is not much different from other looks but still a bit different. His hair has recently been bleached again, only to touch up the roots. Both of you have talked about him going back to a darker hair color after the first half of the tour to give his hair a break from all of the bleach. But for now, as long as his hair and scalp allows it, he's sticking with the blond.

"Do you like my hair, noona?" Felix asks after settling down low enough so you can see better.

His hair, except for a few strands, is pulled back into two star-shaped buns in the back of his head in a sort of half-up style. It's similar to the bow style you remember seeing pictures of circulating online earlier in the year. Felix moves and you see something in his hair catching in the light, shining brightly. The more that you look at it, you can see that his stylist added some silver tinsel into his hair.

"It's cute, Felix. Might be one of my favorite styles yet." You take a few pictures with flash so that the tinsel shines.

"Thank you," Felix beams as if he did his hair himself, turning around once the flashes stop and taking the phone back from you. He quietly hands the phone back to Hyunjin, not even checking the pictures. "I asked if they could do five stars in my hair but they were having trouble so we just did two. They said we can try 5 next time after they practice a bit more."

"Since they could make two stars with your hair, they might be able to try two flowers. Maybe even color it with hair chalk?" You suggest. Felix asks for hairstyle recommendations almost every time he sees you.

A few times he's convinced you to ask a stranger if you could take a picture of their hair while you're out with him and the kids so he could have a reference to show his stylists. It's one of the stranger things you've bonded over with someone, but sometimes it leads to strange texts from Felix of random pictures he's found online. And it's all because you mentioned how much you liked the bow bun he had.

"If they do that, do you think we can go out and find some flowers for me to take pictures with? Or like, a flower field? I'll even do a flower pose and you can use it for the magazine." Felix's eyes light up with excitement. He's speaking so fast that you almost don't understand him as he stumbles over his words.

Making 9 different versions of basically the same magazine has been hard so you welcome any sort of suggestions from them. And they enjoy the creative freedom. Seungmin suggested a whole coffee shop spread where he reviews coffees from each city you're in. Part of you think it's an excuse for him to drink coffee. Jeongin also tends to ask you to take an outfit of the day picture so he has a little fashion spread going. Whenever they go out to eat, Minho has been trying different foods and sending you pictures, the names of the foods, and ratings. At this point, you're going to have to put their names on the credits page under creative directors.

"Dinner time!" Chan sings as he walks into the room with a few staff members in tow. Chan, carrying two full bags, heads to the center of the room where there's a couch and small table. The other four staff members head to a table off to the side.

"C'mon, let's go," Hyunjin whispers softly to everyone.

Hyunjin, Felix, and Jeongin get up and follow you over to Chan so they can get their food. Soon after Minho and Jisung join them. You watch as the staff members who aren't preoccupied with something go over to the table off on the side to get their food.

You pack your cleaning equipment up and set it off to the side. You swap the battery in the charger with the one currently in the camera. Just as you're about to get up, Changbin is standing in front of you with both of his hands stretched out in front of him, waiting. You quietly chuckle to yourself as you take his hands and slightly pull yourself up as he tugs.

It's weird having Changbin willingly interact with you after months of him avoiding you like the plague. He's still cautious around you, hardly talking about anything outside of interview questions. At least, nothing that truly matters. But he is talking to you. He's even tagged along a few times when one or some of the members kidnaps you for a few hours.

"Thank you," You smile as you adjust your clothes. You lean back against the wall for a bit for support as the blood flows back into your legs.

Changbin nods as a response before turning and walking towards the other members. He pauses for a moment, turning back to you. His freshly straightened dyed black hair falls slightly over his eyes as he tilts his head. "Eat well,"

"You too, Changbin," You reply with a smile on your face.

You almost miss the small, satisfied smile that appears on his face before he nods and walks to join the other members for dinner. It was only there for a moment. So quick that you're certain that it's the first genuine smile he's given you that wasn't for the camera. You're not even sure he was aware of the fact that he did it. It was more like a reflexive twitch than an intentional action.

Note to self: try to get Changbin to smile like that more for pictures.

You kick yourself off the wall and head back to join the other staff members for dinner.

Buy me a coffee?

—

TAG LIST (closed)

Red means that it wouldn't let me tag you (either at all or properly)

@amyyscorner @puppysmileseungmin @lixie-phoria @yongbbokkie @spearb-99 

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@jutdwae-archives @dazzlingjade @itzella @divineinsanity

[dont-open-dead-inside-25]

suffering 😁

[ghostykapi]

three against me (the trio's love)

misamo & fem!reader // college au

thank you for @cry4mina for the misamo pictures and for being delulu with me about misamo <3 MISAMOOO

when you said you wanted your college life to be eventful

you didn't expect the universe throwing you three girlfriends, each with their own side of how they got you locked with them

it starts during the first semester of your 3rd year, when you were in a small cafe, getting to a headstart in your pile of homework

it's perfect, a iced coffee by your side, three readings beside you, your laptop on the coffee table in front of you and phone silenced, muting whatever the onslaught of messages nayeon is sending that you can't even be bothered to check

you needed this, you couldn't handled anymore 'dubchaeng babysitting!' when the duo would just make your head hurt with the amount of crazy ideas they had. the change of pace for the day is much welcome, especially knowing that jeongyeon took over with the lure of seeing a band a cafe next university over

it's nice, you can feel like you are in control for even just for a bit

then the cafe's noise dies down when the door chimes

it's too silent

fuck.

you brace yourself at the trio, who’s presence can make the entire student populous go on their knees. the mere whisper of their little group brings the entire college either trembling

misamo.

you can feel her gaze land on you, despite the only indication that it is one of them without looking is the whispers within the cafe. even the baristas know them

hirai momo. softball player, the star athlete that brings medals and more recognition to your university. average grades, stellar performance when she steps on the field and can land a nasty punch

with each step you hear her take, the more you have to remind yourself not to look. you can hear her giggles and the way your heartbeat is now in your ears

minatozaki sana. influencer and model, the unspoken leader of their group. through her bubbly and charming personality, she uses her wit to become the face of the university. part of the top 10% of the whole university, the inspiration to study hard and diligently

you feel a hand on your shoulder, the firm grasp rendering you unable to move, yet it's how you know who it is. she hums in delight at your sharp intake of breath, knowing that you don't need anything else to tell her apart

myoui mina. rising entrepreneur of 3 different business ventures, the deadliest one from the trio. always calculating, always 10 steps ahead of her peers and competitors. sweet, kind, and demur, she brings class to whatever she does

that includes sitting beside you, her bag gently landing on the table, your proximity leaves the others questioning your relationship, but all you know is that you must have done something at your shared class with her yesterday for her too approach you

"i hope you don't mind" she starts, eyes confident and you want to scream and cry because she's wearing a suit. typically worn when she's fresh from visiting one of her businesses. "i heard you were well versed in code"

"programming is my major yes" you keep your voice leveled, after all, being a woman in such a male dominated course has made you what your flock of admirers say, freezingly cold.

"i have a proposition for you" mina starts, keeping a dangerous game of who can keep the eye contact going "you help me with homeworks and projects while i give you money per assessment made"

while mina has a fair share of students that matched her energy, something in your gaze makes her crack a bit

"what makes you think i'll say yes?"

"you can't say no to me"

"yes i can. here watch i'll say it"

and mina can't deny it when she feels her heart start to race when you get closer to her. faces barely a few inches apart

"i don't do things for money. so no"

and you pull back, ready to put back to attention to your homework when mina speaks up

"every time you have to help me i'll pay you in food"

oh goodness free food

"ok i'm in" you hum, hands typing away on your laptop "we start in two days, send me an address and i'll met you there myoui. now shoo, i have to catch up to my work"

she stares at you with a blank gaze, but inside she's dumbfounded at your boldness

nevertheless, she stands up to leave you be, but before she's out of earshot, she says something you don't quite catch

"what?" you ask

"you should call me mina. myoui is too professional even for my taste dear"

three days later, it's momo who bugs you after your morning class

she slips up right beside you, the lack of dress code in the university gives momo a chance to wear a body hugging pink dress, something that makes everyone go crazy. what you don't like is how every guy is looking at her in ways you want to pluck their eyes out

filthy bastards don't deserve to gaze at her at all

"momo" your ears are red because everyone can clearly see you both in the halls, her arm around your waist as you slowly walk to the next building for your next class "what are you doing?"

"accompanying you to class" momo won't admit it, but ever since mina said you were, in her words, 'pretty and sufficient', she had to see you

"why?" you ask, glaring at every man who's looking at her too creepily, making them scurry away

"just because, plus our classrooms are right beside each other" she relaxes more with each less man in the hall, you notice it

"fine" you huff, and before she can even say anything else, you remove your jacket, giving it to her "wear this for today, i don't want any man to look at you. you're too gorgeous for them"

the rest of the walk is silent on the way to both of your classrooms. only thing you can hear is the squeak of every sneaker from each man running way and the whispers in between students

it's the most peaceful walk momo has had since becoming star athlete

so when you wave at her from the door before disappearing to go to the classroom beside her's, she feels like she can breath without panicking

she hates taking anything math related, but she might bare it more when she knows your beside her classroom

she's hooked

later that afternoon, while you lounge around the student council office sipping a red bull, someone barges in, scaring your team who's having a heated debate on who should the rest of the papers

"fucking jesus who the fuck-" ryujin is silenced from who she sees at the door

minatozaki sana, the ever persistent and one of the most notable member under the team of the president.

"someone sent you flowers?"

not a question you were expecting, even your team is gawking at her

dressed to perfection, you can't catch her in a regular outfit at any point, which is kind of ridiculous. sana doesn't care, always styled like she's going to a fashion week in europe. today she's wearing that white dress that she just wore in her feature in some magazine

what is it with the trio and wearing designer clothing every time they are at university grounds? specifically when they are within your eyesight

"pardon?" you know the amount of admires that still try despite cold rejection, even hailing from different courses. hell you think someone from the university over sent you chocolates once, you gave it to your team though

"did you accept some stupid boy's flowers?" sana repeats, anger in her eyes, an emotion she barely shows, and possessiveness in her body language, something you see glimpses of when someone gets close to mina and momo that she doesn't approve of

"minatozaki you know i don't do that" you say calmly, your team in awe at how you keep a calm attitude "if the suitor doesn't have the guts to face me, then they do not deserve my limited time"

"then you'll entertain if i do right?"

you can hear felix and lily choke over their pizza behind you

"you are not serious" you look at her like she's crazy (she loves being called that, you learn from mina later on)

she gets closer to you, faces barely an inch apart, any slip up from her leaning way to closer over your table and she can just kiss you

"try me, i'll see you at tomorrow's meeting miss vice-president"

when she leaves the office, it takes you and your team a total of 5 minutes to recover

"jesus what the fuck was that"

"ryujin shut up, go back to bickering with lia"

no one has ever said no to the trio

maybe a few people had

they're just not as pretty, charming and confident as you

maybe that's why mina keeps sitting beside you during your shared programming class even oustide 'tutor' hours, why momo's insistent at being beside you in between periods to carry your items on days your classes line up, and why sana shows up in every weekly meeting with an expensive gift or a trinket, challenging each suitor head on.

women like them are gonna be the death of you

"you have some crazy women that like you" jihyo jests beside you, giggling at how sana is glaring daggers at how close you both are. you both are now taking a break along with the rest of the internal team to finalize some papers

"yeah well" you don't like to admit it, but ever since their persistence to always either be near you, you have been starting to crack bit by bit "can't really escape them y'know"

"i think you would look cute with them" jihyo hums, swinging her pen between her fingers, making someone across the table keep her stare at the president "misamo and their girlfriend who sucks ass at karaoke"

"ok that was one time" you huff, jihyo's snickering makes sana look up from her phone, jaw tensing up at how close jihyo is "clearly i let you win because you liked it when tzuyu said she's treat you out if you win right?"

that shuts her up. the said tall woman is at the other side of the room, watching the president's face get red, wondering what you just said to make her like this

"get back to work" jihyo then shoos you away, your laughter making jihyo flip you off before returning to work for herself

before you cam even return to work, your eyes meet sana's, her expression unreadable. you wonder what she's thinking of

you look away, a light blush on your cheeks from her intense stare, busying yourself once more with the papers

to sana, witnessing your smile and laughter rewires her brain, heart pleading with her to speed up whatever this stage the three of them are in. each day that passes drives the three of them crazy

mina is messing up in her calculations, momo is missing her shots and sana is losing her composure on the daily

she needs you. they need you.

when sana heads home that night she keeps thinking about you. even when she lets her girlfriends debate what their late night dinner should be (mina wants tacos, momo is craving for some pasta). she blurts out in the middle of it

"do you think y/n would say yes if we offered her sushi as a late night dinner?"

the two stop at their bickering to look at sana, who's eyes are begging for the next move. she's getting itchy and desperate to make it

"satang" mina reaches out to her, letting sana wrap her arms around her waist as momo hugs them both "did something happen?"

"it's just" sana doesn't even try to hide it at this point, knowing that the three of them are nearing their breaking point "i saw her laugh today and it really made me think that 'i want to make her laugh with us' and i-i don't know but it has been driving me mad"

mina hums in understanding and momo speaks up, ready to take that push

"then let's go"

staying late even after meetings is normal for you to catch up with the papers, but for the past few days, you have been staying late in the office to busy your thoughts

mina hasn't been looking at you in the eye or been acknowledging you

momo hasn't been accompanying you to class

sana hasn't shown up to a single meeting this past two weeks

trying to silence your head, you decided to throw yourself into your extra curriculars every night. this night, you are working alone, the only sounds that you can hear are your aggressive typing on your poor keyboard, the music coming from your small speaker and the voices in your head making your heart ache

and now a knock and the door swinging open

"if you have any concerns please drop them by our social media accounts, email, or even the drop box by the-"

you stop your next words when you look up

mina.

you want to curse at the woman, for deliberately avoiding you. it was worse with her, because at least with the two you didn't have the urge to scream because they simply did not show up.

momo.

even clad in that handsome suit, she's still wearing that jacket you handed over to her. devastatingly handsome and gorgeous, you wonder why did she have to leave you wondering in the noisy university halls

sana.

meetings are still the same, but jihyo keeps on asking why your eyes have been straying, always going back to the door. waiting for that laugh to annoy you, waiting for a snarky remark to any stupid men flirting with you, waiting for anything from her

you really want to throw a chair at them for just showing up now and pissing you off

you don't though, because you missed them

each in their own suit, each with their own gift, each one with a nervous smile that no one will ever see, each one wearing their hearts up their sleeves, and each with the same question you didn't know you wanted to hear until now

"we like you. would you like to go out with us? dinner tomorrow night, our treat"

you can't say no

"you guys are horrible at courting. pick me up at 7"

bonus:

in every first date you've been on, you never come over to your dates home. that changes and ends with them

"hirai" you're trying to keep your breath stable as her hands are playing your hair. eyes hazy, but clearly on you, her self control out the door, just like yours

"myoui" she's behind you, her hands on your waist, murmuring what she's been thinking about for the past days. it's all you, and it makes you melt

"minatozaki" you let her kiss you, silencing your worries and doubts, silencing anything that makes you question them. the heart finally getting what it wants

"you my love, deserve to be ours"

[themorningsunshine]

Pie - eyed over you

Mafia - Baker AU 

Masterlist                         Series Masterlist

Pairing - Mafia!Bucky x Baker!Reader

Summary - When a new baker in town refuses to abide by his rules, Bucky has no option but to go and take care of it himself. But nothing could prepare him for what stood on the other side. Nothing could prepare him for you.

Warnings - Mentions of murder and weapons 

Word count - 3.3k

a/n - This is my first time writing an AU and I am super nervous (also because I have combined two things I can just not write about, weapons and cooking). Please let me know what you think.

Rain was pouring heavily on the roof of the shed and he wasn't sure if the old sheds meekly covering the building could contain them much longer. He couldn't care less.

He walks out of the building and into the rain, wiping his left arm on his dry coat to wipe off the blood covering it. The pouring rain caresses his face but does nothing to the ever-present frown on his forehead and the grimace on his lips.

He used to love the rain as a kid. The gentleness of the droplets, the smell of rain, and the puddles. It was so much easier back then. So innocent. He closes his eyes as droplets slide their way all over him. They touch him like they don't know what he has just done.

His frown deepens as images claw into his mind once again. He clenches his fist remembering how it had taken him mere 10 seconds to shoot 3 bullets straight into the man's head. The killing had become easier over the years. Picking the bullet and shooting straight into the target had become second nature to him.

What hadn't become easier was the aftermath. The guilt that somehow always gnawed its way into his heart. The question was there any other way?

With his eyes still closed, he brings his face towards the sky, daring the rain to wash away his thoughts the same way it has washed away the blood that stuck to his metal arm not so long ago.

He likes the rain for a completely different reason now.

It provides him with an escape.

From his mind.

His thoughts

The images. The man screaming, begging him to stop and he doesn't even feel disgusted by himself when he doesn't even falter. He left his men to take care of the body.

A face lingers in his mind, pushing away all the dark thoughts. His ma "Bucky "

It's like he can hear her call out to him, urging him to come back home.

She would have hated how he turned out.

But he tells himself he doesn't care.

It didn't matter what his ma would have thought about him. She wasn't here. She didn't have to know.

He snaps his eyes open when he doesn't feel the rain falling on his face anymore. He can still hear the raindrops thudding on the roofs of the buildings. He looks up to see a huge umbrella over his head, shielding him from the rain.

He frowns and follows the handle of the outrageous floral print object only to be met by the sight that was going to change his life forever.

The first thing he saw when his eyes met y/e/c ones was that they held a certain softness to them that he didn't think still existed in this world. He was almost afraid to take his eyes off yours as if he was scared that you would crumble down under his gaze.

But when he brought his eyes over your face and then the rest of you, he knew it was the most beautiful sight his eyes had ever landed on. That even the most beautiful paintings in the world didn't hold a candle to you.

"Are you okay?" You whispered, voice so gentle, it could calm the most violent of storms.

Bucky thinks those are the most precious three words he has ever heard. He nods his head, mostly because he doesn't speak too much these days and also because it has been a very long time since someone has asked him that question.

"I am walking that way and the rain is increasing, you don't want to get drenched. Walk with me?" You ask and he thinks he would burn the whole world down to the ground with a smile on his face if you asked.

He looks at the way you are pointing and realizes that's where his car is parked. He says, "Okay" and sees as you take a step towards him, covering the both of you with your umbrella, and his senses are filled with your smell. You smell like freshly baked cookies and coffee. It's his new favorite smell.

You take a couple of steps ahead before turning towards him and he realizes he is staring. He doesn't remember the last time when somebody had enthralled him so much. For some reason, he just can't get himself to look away.

"I have not seen you around before." He says only to hear you speak again.

"Yeah, I am kind of new here. Been less than a week." You reply with a smile on your face and Bucky thinks this cursed town has just been blessed.

You look around before commenting, "It's a beautiful town." And for the love of god, he can't figure out how this part of the town which is more of a  dumpster with remnants of buildings all around can be beautiful to somebody.

"This is not really a safe place." When you look at him with confusion in your eyes, he continues, "Especially at this time of night." As if that explanation is enough. He straightens his back and tries to get the confident, mob aura he has around everyone. "What are you doing here?"

If his slightly changed demeanor throws you off guard, you don't point it out. You just bite your lip before speaking, "What if I tell you I lost my way?"

The chuckle that leaves him is involuntary. "Really? Lost your way?"

"Hey. In my defense, it's just been a week." You place your hand on your chest in fake offense.

"Where were you heading to?"

You put your hand in your pocket before taking out a piece of paper. "Here"

Bucky takes the paper from you and looks at it with furrowed brows. "Why are you walking this way? This place is at the other end of that alley." He says before pointing out to a dark alley.

You make an o shape with your mouth before turning toward where he is pointing. "Got it. Thanks."

When you reach his car and his driver opens the door for him, he turns back before saying, "Let me drop you." It doesn't sound like a request.

"No, no. It's fine. I don't want to be trouble. Also, I am not sure your car would fit in there." You said before tilting your umbrella towards yourself.

"I'll see you around." You tell him before giving him a small wave and walking away, a smile still etched on your lips.

Bucky stands there, watching you go, and realizes he didn't ask your name. But he'd be damned if he let you go in that alley alone. He asks one of his men to make sure that you reach your destination safely.

"Keep an eye from afar." He instructs him. Voice cold and commanding.

But the frown on his head and the grimace on his lips are a little less evident on the way back.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

"What the fuck am I supposed to do with this?" Bucky's voice bellowed around the dark room, startling everyone around him.

"S- sir, I tried." Peter bows his head before whimpering.

Steve, who has been standing beside Bucky's chair leans in to whisper, "He is just a kid, Buck."

Bucky rubs his hand over his face before looking at Peter trying his best to give him a soft look. "Okay, Peter. I don't have time for this. What exactly is the problem here? And don't tell me a full-blown story."

"S-sir, the new bakery. The owner says she isn't going to pay the money. Said something about taxes and also that, 'If I don't barge in there asking for weapons, don't barge into my place asking for money.'

Some of the men standing in the corner chuckle but are rewarded by a glare from Bucky.

"I don't have time to deal with a Baker. Did you tell her that everybody in town pays the money? It's for protection." He says, voice slightly irritated. The townspeople feared him. There was no doubt about that in his mind. Hence, they sent him money at the start of every month diligently. But sometimes, out of the blue, someone would come and try to be the savior, trying to rebel. He didn't understand what they wanted. He wasn't a monster. Over the years, he had relieved some people of paying the money on various occasions.

"I did tell her that, sir. She asked me who exactly is this protection from." Peter whispered, now slightly trembling with fear.

This piqued Bucky's interest. Over the years, nobody had ever asked his men the reason behind the money. They just obliged.

Peter continued, "I told her it's from the mob. Some of us. And she said she isn't going to pay us to do the bare minimum, to be human." Bucky leaned back in his chair and shut his eyes in annoyance.

Steve spoke up, "It's okay, Buck. I'll handle this. You know they all give in eventually."

Bucky opened his eyes and stood up from his chair. "Nope, I will come with you. This is different." He then looked at Sam who was standing at the other end of the room, "Receive the order of the weapons. The delivery is scheduled in an hour."

Same nodded his head before walking out of the room. Bucky dismissed the other men and along with Steve walked towards Peter, both of the men towering over him.

"Peter, are those crumbles of pie on your face?"

A shiver passed through Peter at his cold tone and he willed himself to speak, "She gave it to me, sir. I tried to refuse. Really did. But she said that I am just a kid and don't deserve - " Peter cut himself before he could speak too much. He somehow had the habit of always speaking about stuff that is supposed to be kept secret.

A small smile found its way to Bucky's lips but it was gone as soon as it came and he patted Peter's shoulder dismissing him. "This is different." He said to Steve before walking out of the room.

And for some reason, he was sure it was true.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚

"We are here, sir."

Bucky looked up from the file he was reading to his driver and then around him. It was one of the good areas of the town where families stayed, holed up in their whole little world, the darkness of the other side not fully reaching them.

Steve instructed the driver and the guard to stay in the car as the both of them walked out. "That is the one," Steve said pointing towards something.

Bucky followed his gaze and his movements faltered for a slight second. He had never seen something so - warm.

A little bakery standing between a bookstore and a cycle stand with sweets adorning its shelves looking delicious enough to lure anybody inside—soft music playing in the little speaker placed outside. People occupying the chairs outside and inside the shop, kids running around with huge grins on their faces, every one into their own little world.

It looked lively.

Bucky couldn't remember seeing something like this in the town before. Maybe he hadn't even bothered, or maybe something had really changed. With their black sunglasses and dressed up in dark colors from head to toe, he wasn't sure if he and Steve were going to fit in, but he couldn't care less.

As they walked closer, Bucky could now see most of the shop and when his eyes landed on the sole person behind the counter, his breath hitched in his throat.

Removing his sunglasses to get a better look, he stopped in his tracks when his suspicions were confirmed.

.

It was her.

The girl with the floral umbrella and the warm smile.

The girl who had somehow crept her way into his thoughts more than he would like to admit in the past week since he had seen her.

And she was beautiful.

He saw as you stood behind the counter, handing a box to a little girl with a huge grin on your face, the girl jumping up and down in excitement as you leaned towards her to whisper something.

He then saw the little girl run out of the bakery, clutching the box to her chest towards her mother as if it was the most precious thing in the world. When his eyes went back to you, he saw how you talked to the next customer, an old lady, with the same huge grin on your face.

He hadn't noticed that he had been staring until Steve cleared his throat, a smirk on his face. Before Steve could say something, Bucky muttered, "Stay here, let me handle this." He walks towards the stops with a calculated gaze and a perfected aura of confidence.

As he opens the door to the bakery, the smell of coffee and cookies hits him hard and a feeling of warmth engulfs him.

"How can I - " Your words die in your throat when your eyes land on the familiar figure.

Bucky could swear your smile gets wider.

You compose yourself before saying, "Hey, I know you. You are the cute guy from the other day."

Bucky frowns as he takes in your words. Cute? Did you just call him cute? He had been called intimidating, scary, and even sexy. But cute? He was furious. He was anything BUT cute. Also, was he allergic to something in the shop? Why the hell was his stomach suddenly fluttering?

He also ignores the way his heart is beating quicker at the realization that you remembered him. What was happening to him today? "I am looking for y/n l/n."

Your smile turned slightly mischievous as you replied, "That would be me."

Bucky's eyes almost widened at that. "You are y/n? The owner of the bakery?"

"Yup." You said popping the p as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "And the last I checked, introductions went both ways."

You raised your hand towards him for a handshake and after looking at your hand for a moment, he shook it. "I am B - James." For some reason, he didn't want you to know who he was. The nickname might give it away.

You smiled at him again before returning your hand, a little too early for Bucky's liking, "So, James. What can I get you?"

He had it all planned. It was like second nature to him. I want my money. Abide by the rules, you don't want to know the consequences. It was the usual. But for some reason, his mouth had gained a mind of its own as it said before he could comprehend, "Cupcakes"

You looked at the huge display of baked goods before looking back at him, "Which one?"

Bucky gave the display a glance, he was sure he hadn't ever tasted most of them. "What do you recommend, sweets?"

He watches as you are visibly taken aback by the nickname. A smirk find its way to his lips as he watched red color creeping up to your neck.

"I - uhm" You take a breath to compose yourself. Get it together. "These red velvet cupcakes just came out of the oven and they are kinda my favorite. So.." You look at Bucky with excitement in your eyes and he likes how passionate you are about your work.

"I'll take a box."

You smile at him before bending down to pack a box of the delicacy and he watches how you oh-so-gently pick up each piece before placing it inside the box with practiced precision.

When you hand over the box to him and your hands brush, you feel the sparks through your spine once again as when you had shaken hands.

When he puts a hand in his pocket to retrieve the money, you cut him off. "Don't worry about it. It's on the house."

Bucky smiles a little before replying, "Sweets, you keep giving free goods like that and you'll have to close the shop soon." He says in a teasing voice.

"I'll let you in on a secret, James." You lean towards him as if it is the most secretive thing in the world. "This is a business strategy."

He frowns a little, trying to cover the fact that he was getting too comfortable with how close the both of you were, before saying, "How's that?"

"The first order is on the house but then you come again. And again. It's really profitable."

There is this - innocence and purity in your voice that reminds him of a little child. Of old times. Easier times. And he just stares into your eyes for as long as he can, as if they could help him escape, become a portal to a time long lost.

You don't dare to move either. His eyes are the prettiest shade of blue you have ever seen. They have this intensity to them as if hiding the stories of a lifetime and you just can't get yourself to look away. You have always loved a good mystery.

Bucky clears his throat, bringing the both of you out of the daze as he brings the teasing tone back to his voice, "What makes you think I will come back?"

You chuckle a little before giving a proud smile. "Oh, you will, James. I trust my cupcakes."

He gives you another small smile as he takes a step back. This is the longest conversation he has had with a person outside his line of work in a very long time. Everybody was just too scared but he couldn't care less.

"Goodbye, sweets." He says before letting the new customer who had just entered go ahead. 

"Goodbye, James. Until next time." You add with a wink.

Bucky walks out of the bakery, his initial motive forgotten completely. From the outside, he turns back to look at you for the one last time and watches as you say something that makes the teenage boy laugh while taking out cookies from the shelf.

A moment later, you look towards the window and your eyes meet for a fleeting second. You smile at him and give him a small wave.

Bucky turns around to walk towards his car when he notices Steve standing a few feet away with a knowing smirk on his face.

Bucky rolls his eyes before muttering with clenched teeth, "Don't"

Steve doesn't ask about the money and Bucky is glad. He isn't really sure how he would answer. Whatever happened wasn't what he was expecting.  You weren't what he was expecting.

As he slid into the back seat of his car, the image of your smile when you were that close to him lingered in his mind and he couldn't stop the way his lips had pulled slightly upward.

When the car started driving, and with Steve on a phone call, he opened the box of cupcakes and picked one to take a small bite.

As he takes the first bite, the softness and the sweetness of the cake engulf him and leave him wanting more. He doesn't remember eating something this good in a long time.

And for many reasons, he will definitely visit again.  

Next part

[kedreeva]

Okay, I haven't wanted to talk much about the peafowl lately, been just kinda dealing with Stan's passing, but! I have news I don't want to keep quiet, so here we go with a little announcement.

I've been helping a friend of mine with a bunch of peafowl genetics work lately, as he's trying to prove out a really neat phenotype of speckled and white peafowl that showed up in his breeding stock, and he just spent tens of thousands of dollars importing two new morphs from Europe: European violet (aka, my dream morph) and Ultramarine (pretty and only otherwise being produced by TWO breeders in the WORLD). When Bill heard about Stan, he asked if I was going to go to a large farm auction that's a few hours from my house. I don't, normally, since it's a few hours from my house and the auctions usually make me kinda sad when it comes to peafowl (they stress out SO MUCH) even though it's cool to see how much they're going for at a wider audience auction.

Then he told me he would be going, and that if I wanted to come down the day before the auction, he'd bring me another male, to replace Stan. I had already made plans to hang onto Bismuth, at least for a few years, and to pick up babies from Indie x Arcana/Eclipse this november, including a male, so I didn't really need another male, and don't have the cash for one anyway. He said no, he meant one of the split EUV males from last year's first-USA breeding. For free. As a thank you for helping him.

To put this into perspective, importing the birds is a ~$10k affair, per bird. I had fully resigned myself to never even SEEING one of these birds in person, much less ever owning one. Even if someone else got them imported, they would remain thousands of dollars for the first few years, and quickly become mixed with other stuff, potentially even be lost by people breeding to purple. He went in on a group import with another breeder and they have both just started selling the full-color birds for over $2k apiece (alongside Ultramarine, which before their import was bred by TWO people in the WORLD, and babies from that are going for almost $7k each, but EUV is more widely spread). Splits (like the one I will be getting) are being let go for $750. This is also the color I have desperately wanted since I first saw them 8-10 years ago (though I believe they've been around slightly longer), but that I had resigned myself to never actually having.

To put it mildly, I'm probably going to burst into tears when I see Bill and this bird. It's going to be super embarrassing. And then I'm going to have to build more pens. And then I'm going to have to get as plain-blue, pure-indian blue hens as I can find, and become one of the most serious curators of plain pure EUV in the US, because I know the other two who have them currently will be outcrossing to other patterns/colors immediately and the people buying them will likely be doing the same, and everyone will be clamoring to make them into high Spaldings ASAP, or won't know not to cross them to purples and wreck the color.

Here's the sire cock, the one imported:

You will notice that this bird is purple in full sun, from the sunny side. That's the main difference between European violet and US purple- a US purple looks blue until you get the right angle on the sun vs the bird vs the camera, and you have to get the bird between you and the sun, so the purple is often in the shadow side- visible to the eye but not the camera. EUV is just purple. Even from the sunny side!!

And the Ultramarine, in case you were wondering about their color:

(pics reposted w/ permission from Bill)

The breeder is Spring Creek Peafowl, and in case anyone is secretly a peafowl breeder or knows other peafowl breeders with too much money that want in on a new color morph, he DOES have UM pairs and EUV hens (and more split males) for sale currently, for less than the only other person in the US that has them. They're still pricey, but cheaper. I WISH I had the extra to have my friend add on an EUV hen, but alas, I will have to wait to make my own in a few years. Even just the opportunity to do so is something I never expected to have!

[niceboyeds]

okay but Eddie’s face when you show him a nude you’ve taken for the first time? you cannot tell me he wouldn’t be so flustered from seeing you pose seductively in lingerie you picked out just for him.

18+ MDNI

“do you like it, baby? i thought black was your favorite color?” you tease, seeing his face redden at the sight of you in the photo.

“i— fuck i love it. i love it. you look so fucking good.” he stumbles out, eyes still roaming the polaroid that he holds oh-so carefully in his hands.

“oh good. i was worried the photo wouldn’t do that set justice.”

“it uh… it most certainly does.” he gives an encouraging nod, looking back and forth between you and the picture.

“well that’s kinda too bad. i mean, i wore it over here just in case so you could really see it. but if the picture is perfect then i suppose it’s not necessary.”

you continue to tease, pulling your shirt down to confirm that the lingerie is underneath your clothes.

seeing the black strap of the bra is all he needs to set the polaroid down and make his way over to you. you could feel just how hard he was through his jeans as he collided with you.

“you better fuck me better than you’ll fuck yourself to my nude later, Munson.”

“oh baby, you’re so much better than my hand.”

he rips off your shirt and jeans, leaving you in the black lace, before stripping himself down completely naked. you go to help remove your bra and panties but he instead reaches to pin your hands above your head.

“leave it on. god i mean, look at you?! fuck i could cum just at the sight of you like this.”

“yeah? you like seeing me pinned underneath you in nothing but a couple thin pieces of lace? you better prove it.”

with one hand still holding your wrists, he uses the other to pull your thong to the side and guide his cock into your wet hole.

he pushes in slowly at first, both of you moaning at the feeling after waiting what felt like an eternity. in actuality it was maybe 10 minutes, but the wetness that pooled in your panties begs to differ.

“fuck Eddie!” you whine out, feeling him bottom out inside of you and craving more friction. “please move.”

“so funny how the one who did all the teasing is now the one begging for more.” he smirks, looking down at the mess you’re making on him.

you start to grind your hips against him, urging him to move but he says strong. moving his head down to your chest, he licks your nipple through the mesh lace bra. the feeling makes you shudder, but still needing more.

“Eddie! please fuck me!” you moan out, feeling his cock pulsing inside of you. and with that last plea, he does. he fucks you hard.

his mouth continues to move up and down your chest and neck, leaving marks everywhere they linger. his strokes are hard and fast as he brings his free hand back down to your aching cunt.

using his fingers to hold your panties out of the way, he rubs his thumb against your sensitive clit. he rubs harder and faster as his strokes become more sloppy, a tell-tale sign that he’s close but wants you to finish first.

you can feel yourself approaching your climax, it’s growing more and more intense as he continues to fuck you harder than he has before.

“shit Eds! i’m so close!”

“cum for me doll, show me how much you love it when i fuck you in your little panties and bra.” you moan loudly at his words, nearly forgetting complete that this all started because of the photo you gave him.

but with one final pump, you finally reach your orgasm. he follows behind with a few more strokes, letting his warm cum soak your dripping pussy.

he removes his cock from you and releases your wrists from his grasp. you feel your thong get placed back to cover you up before you start to drift off to sleep.

he crawls up beside you on the bed, holding you close and his fingers roam your body softly as if to soothe you.

with a yawn you cuddle into him more, whispering to him that you’ll make sure to take more photos for him. and you will certainly have to if it means he’ll keep fucking you like that.

[kenananamin]

Beside Each Other

Chapter 1: Moving in

[masterlist]

Summary: Single mom moves into a third floor apartment with her 5 year old daughter. Nanami Kento lives on the second floor and knows someone is moving in when he hears the furniture scraping across the floor to find its spot in the apartment. He expects the noise to end in a day or two but then hears the little pitter patter of tiny feet followed by a muffled, "Stop running!" Well... this should be interesting.

fluff, nanami kento x fem!reader

~3.6k words

♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡

Monday

*Second floor, Nanami's apartment* 

Team leader Nanami Kento grabs his mug of freshly brewed tea and goes to sit in his office to begin the work day. It's almost the same thing every single day but he enjoys the job so far. The team is responsible and quick, he can work quietly from home, and most importantly, the pay is much better than any of his past jobs. He'll be able to save most of his check and save enough to move to a better place soon. The current building was breaking down and it seemed that every neighbor had a new complaint every day. He really does feel bad for anyone that falls for the listing and is conned by the landlady who just wants to fill the apartments for rent. He should've known better, a two bed two bath for much less than anything in the area was bound to have its conditions.

He sighs thinking about the apartment but logs in for the day and begins reading through the emails that came in over the weekend. A few emails in and he hears a couple loud thumps upstairs. He knew Truman left last week but the landlady was very quick to con someone (again) to take that space.

Nanami sighs, "Welcome to the money pit, neighbor."

He continues his morning while hearing the furniture scraping across the floor to find its spot in the apartment. The heavier furniture was loud and slow and the lighter stuff was clear and quick. It should only be a day or two at most of this noise. That is, until he hears quick and small pitter patters from the living room to right above his office.

Nanami pauses and focuses to listen through the thin walls. He hears a very muffled, "This is my room, mommy! Mommy! Momma!"

A kid? Nanami wonders.

*Third floor, your apartment*

You swing the door open and pout at the old discolored paint. This apartment wasn't at the top of your list, not even in your top 10, but it was cheaper than everything else and close to Yunn's school. Mr. Truman warned you about this apartment but also said it was a good temporary spot for you and Yunn. At least until your application was approved for any of the other apartments, townhouses, or rental houses you applied for. Mr. Truman and Jessie promised they'd let you know if they ever passed by any 'For Rent' sign.

You move out of the way while holding Yunn's hand to let the mover see the space to know what to bring up first. They quickly scan the room and go back down to bring the first bunch of furniture. You walk to the kitchen bar to check the papers left on the counter and look up to see the movers with the couch and side tables. 

"Momma, can I go see the rooms?"

"Yeap, but remember what I told you please."

Yunn indeed does not remember and sprints off to one end of the apartment towards the smaller room. "This is my room, mommy! Mommy! Momma!"

You try to do a quiet tip-toe run after your daughter to get her to quiet down. 

"Stop running!" you catch up to your excited daughter. “Yunnuen, I had told you to please not run and not yell. Please, baby, we just talked about this.”

She looks up and nods but continues to look around the room. Mr. Truman had said that although the neighbors constantly complained about management, they were very nice to each other. He told you the downstairs neighbor wouldn’t mind a little noise but you wanted to avoid making any noise, period. Mr. Truman said the neighbor worked from home and the last thing you wanted was to disturb someone while they worked or become a nuisance when they're trying to rest.

“Knock knock!”

“Ms. Jessie!” Yunn ran to the room door where Mr. Truman and Jessie stood.

“The movers are in and out and the door is open, we hope you don’t mind that we came in!”

Jessie was Yunn’s old pre-k teacher. She knew everything from your work schedule, to Yunn’s dad, to your struggle of finding a new place. You both grew close throughout the year especially after Yunn moved up to kinder. Mr. Truman is Jessie’s father. He works as a janitor at the same school and saw you often when you’d stay a bit longer after school to talk to Jessie and let Yunn play in the playground. He had to move in with Jessie after a back injury and told you about his old apartment. He did warn you about the shabbiness of it but said it’d be alright in the meantime. The kind older man offered to help with any maintenance issues and although you agreed at the time, you knew you would never call the poor man to work with his injured back. You’d figure it out… you hoped.

“No no, of course not! You didn’t have to come! It’s your day off, you should’ve stayed home to relax.”

Jessie looks up from hugging Yunn, “Didn’t want to stay home. I can help put some of the boxes in the correct rooms and at least start unboxing a few things.”

“And I wanted to show you a couple things around the building. Most of the things in here are old and get stuck. We all have — or had for me, our own ways of doing things around here,” Mr. Truman smiled at you. The gentlest smile, similar to the smile he always had around Jessie. “Come on, follow me down to the mailbox. Damn thing always gets stuck”

If anyone knew the building, it would be him. You start to follow Mr. Truman out the door when you turn and tell Yunnuen to stay with Jessie and not leave her sight.

*First floor, mailboxes*

Nanami pushes his mailbox slot to get it open. He wasn’t expecting any mail but he was making time for the new upstairs neighbor to finish moving things in the room directly above him to make a couple work calls. He takes a coupon page from the inside and closes his box. 

“Be careful with the last steep step here, hold that baby’s hand tight when coming down or she might tumble one day.”

The familiar voice made Nanami turn quickly. Was that…? “Truman?” Nanami asked.

“Nanami! Hello boy, good thing I caught you here, there’s someone you should meet.”

You were a couple steps behind Mr. Truman, carrying a couple welcome bags with things the elderly neighbors had given you after knowing you were a friend of their close friend and had a little girl.

“Nanami, this is y/n, she’s moving into my old place with her little girl. y/n, this is Nanami, the downstairs neighbor,” Mr. Truman fumbles for the mailbox key you handed him on the staircase, “I’m gonna show her my trick to box 303.”

Only her and her daughter... single mom? Nanami extends his hand, “Well, welcome to the building, y/n.”

You shake his hand and smile, “Thank you, Mr. Truman mentioned you work from home. Please let me know if we get too loud, I’ll try to keep our volume down either way but please let me know if it’s too much.”

Nanami shakes his head, “It’s alright, I don’t mind.”

You smile again, but still feel a little bad at the thought that Yunnuen could be running around while this man tried to work. Despite Mr. Truman telling you about this man's calm and patient behavior, you still wanted to avoid any extreme noise. It’s a temporary place, but you still want to be considerate to others.

Mr. Truman calls you over to show you how he would push the mailbox up and slightly to the left to get it open. Mr. Truman closes the mailbox after wiggling it around and continues to talk about the trash chute, the main doorway, avoiding the elevator unless you have heavy things, the never opened or available maintenance office, the broken window at the end of the hall, the flickering light on the 2nd floor staircase, and on and on and on. 

“Call me when you need something. I’m still close and know this building better than anyone, including that landlady!” Mr. Truman hits his chest to emphasize his point, making you smile. 

Nanami notices your hesitation about calling Truman, but excuses himself to go up to his apartment. 

“Don’t work too much, boy! It’s a holiday and it’s supposed to be a long weekend!”

Nanami gives a small smile to the old man, “Just a bit more today, promise.” He politely smiles, nods towards you and turns to leave.

Handsome, you thought.

Pretty, Nanami thought.

Thursday

*First floor, maintenance office*

Nanami opens the main entrance door and is immediately greeted by the warmth of the first floor. He pulls the bags on his right hand closer to himself and begins going up the stairs, but stops when he sees you trying to peek through the closed blinds of the maintenance office.

Nanami steps away from the staircase and walks a few feet towards you, “They’re supposed to be here Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Fridays at least half day but I’ve never seen them open for more than a couple hours at a time. You might have missed them already.”

You quickly turn towards him, slightly disgruntled at the closed office. You put your hands on your hips and ask, "do you think they’ll come in tomorrow?"

Nanami slightly tilts his head to the side and without saying a word, you understood completely. You sigh heavily and pace in front of the office before pointing to the closed door, “Would you happen to have a number or contact for any maintenance person?”

"Yeah," he shrugs, but before you get too excited, he said, "Truman. He was our unofficial in-house maintenance man and he was the one that everyone called."

You hesitate before saying, "I wouldn’t want to bother him. His back is still hurt pretty bad and I wouldn’t want him on the floor."

"On the floor?" Nanami raises his eyebrows.

Nanami notices how you hesitate to answer, but you continue, "I noticed a small leak underneath the kitchen sink and I thought I just had to tighten it so I did but it’s been leaking nonstop since yesterday. I wouldn’t want to call Mr. Truman and ask him to basically crawl under my sink to figure out what’s wrong."

Nanami looks at his watch and sees he has 40 minutes left of his lunch. He looks back up, "I know we just met and I’m not a maintenance man but Truman did teach me a few things. Before you, I was the youngest in this building and he said every young man needed to learn how to handle things around his apartment," He chuckles at the memory of the older man happily walking downstairs to Nanami's apartment to help, "He helped me at first, but towards the end, he would just bring me the tools and supplies and watch me fix things on my own. I can go up and see what’s wrong with it, I have about 40 minutes left so I can at least check it out."

"Didn't you just say Mr. Truman would take his tools to you?" you ask, trying to find a way to sneak in a kind no, thank you. 

"Yeah but he gave me about half his tool box when he moved out. Said I’d need it eventually," Nanami grins at the memory, "guess he was right."

Nanami sees you hesitate again and look down the hall. I don't want to ask any neighbor for this kind of help, I just moved in and don't know anything about him, you think. But — I do need the help, I can't have Yunn in a place without a properly working kitchen sink. You cross your arms and tell him, "I wouldn’t want to impose. I haven’t even been here in a week and I would already be asking you for something."

Nanami smiles and shakes his head. "It would be no imposition," he nods towards the staircase and motions you to walk up with him. "And I think you’ve held out long enough, maybe longer than the rest of us. A lot of us came down to the maintenance office the second day we were here."

Damn... I guess I can repay him later?

You lightly laugh and start ascending the stairs with your neighbor. "I'm y/n by the way, I know the last time I saw you was Monday," you stretch your hand out and Nanami introduces himself again.

"How can I pay you back? I wouldn’t want a free favor and I don’t want to take advantage of your generosity."

"Well let’s see what the issue is first. But I really don’t mind, Truman helped me when I needed it most. I’d be happy to help."

You turned your face away from Nanami, but he saw your tight-lipped smile. You both reach the second floor and tell Nanami you have a few tools he can use so he wouldn't have to stop to get his tools. Nanami nods and gives a small ok as you slowly reach your apartment door.

"Let me just say that I haven’t really had a chance to organize things how I would like and my daughter is not very good at picking things up before school," you reach into your pocket for the key and start to open your door.

Nanami laughs a bit behind you as you open the door. If it weren’t because you and Truman have mentioned your daughter, or the toys splattered on the living room floor, he wouldn’t believe a kid lived above him. Besides the first day and the chaos of moving in, he never heard any small footsteps running around or a child's laugh through the walls. He was somewhat impressed that you had kept your promise about keeping the noise down, but he couldn't help but feel a bit disappointed though. Maybe he was looking forward to the noise of a child's laughter, sometimes the evenings were too quiet or they were filled with the elderly neighbor's drama filled evening programs.

"May I?" Nanami points to the bags in his hand and a spot on the floor near your door.

"Oh, I can take those, we can just put them on the table."

Nanami shrugs his shoulders a bit, his heavy coat becoming heavier in your warm apartment. You put his bags on an entryway table and ask him to follow you to the kitchen. He had been inside Truman’s apartment before and even though he knows it's the exact same layout as his own, he says nothing and lets you lead him in. 

Nanami sees you keep a good few feet from him in your apartment and he honestly can’t blame you, you just let a new neighbor you don’t know into your house. He avoids getting closer than necessary to not make you uncomfortable and opens the cabinets under the kitchen sink. You open the cupboard beside the sink and take out your toolbox for him to use.

"Thank you," he smiles and gives you a quick glance before turning back to the pipe underneath the sink. He shrugs his shoulders again to try to shift the increasingly warm jacket and reaches for the wrench to start working on the sink trap.

You leave the small kitchen and head for the area on the other side of the bar. If Nanami looked up, he would be able to find you and you weren’t sure where to stand while he worked. You didn't want to hover, but you also didn’t feel like you should leave him completely alone since he was doing you a favor. You grab a closed box and start unpacking the extra dishes and utensils. You can’t see what he’s doing exactly but you hear a couple tools moving on the pipes and the clanking of other tools in the toolbox.

You grab another box and start removing the newspaper from the top when you see Nanami shrugging again. Since it was cold outside, you always kept your home slightly warmer for Yunn. You’re comfortable and not too warm in what you’re wearing, but a 6-foot well-built man with a winter coat must feel like an oven.

"Umm, let me take your jacket. I can put it by your bags so it’s out of your way if you'd like." Your neighbor looks up and although you can only see the top half of his face, you notice the slight sweat building on his brow.

"Thank you, I don’t think it’ll take much longer, but I appreciate it," he drops the tool in his hand and stands to take off his jacket. He was definitely handsome, very handsome, in fact, and apparently very helpful. You nod and smile at the man and quickly turn to put his jacket by the entryway.

You return to your spot on the other side of the bar and he stands back up after unpacking your third box.

"So the sink trap is going to have to be replaced. If you ask management for the sink trap alone, then they can get it to you maybe early next week. Can't promise they'll do anything for the labor part of it but they'll send the part somewhat quickly," Nanami closes the cupboard and reaches back down for the toolbox.

You nod and take a mental note of what he says, "Can you show me which part that is? I can change it as soon as they give it to me."

Nanami looks at you round the kitchen bar to move next to him and asks, "Are you sure? I’m sure you would be able to figure it out, but I wouldn’t mind coming back and switching it quickly. This alone took," he looks back at his watch and continues, "10 minutes." 

You shift your weight from one leg to the other and contemplate his offer, "That’s a huge imposition, I can’t ask you to fix or switch everything for me."

Nanami gets on one knee to put the tools back in the cupboard where you retrieved them from. "I work eight hours a day, but I don’t have an exact assigned time to work. I can take my breaks whenever I want as long as I finish everything so I'd be able to replace it even during a break."

You hesitate again, but he continues, "Truman never let anybody help him. With the condition of the sink trap, I imagine that he couldn’t fix this himself, but he would be willing to help any of us if we needed anything. Think of this as me repaying him."

"Actually, he probably wasn't even aware of this, his daughter would take him home with her a lot towards the end of his lease here," you look up to your neighbor’s eyes. Even though the thought of a complete stranger in the same house as your daughter makes you nervous, you admit that you might need that help. It might be worth trusting Nanami especially when Mr. Truman kept talking about him so highly after your mailbox interaction last time.

The man is now gently smiling at you, waiting for your answer, and you smile back. "I work at the office two to three times a week. I work from home the rest of the week. I can let you know when I finally catch management so they can give me or order the part.” You pick at your fingernail, “I want you to know that I really really would not want to ask for any help, especially anything keeping you away from your real work or anything of yours, but I really would — do appreciate your help."

Nanami gives you another small smile and says, "Great, just let me know. You can just knock on my door or give me a call." He pulls out his wallet from his back pocket and hands you a business card. "It's my work cell but it's always on and I carry it everywhere."

You nod and take his card: Kento Nanami, Senior Mechanical Product Designer at Schneider Electric. Hmm, fancy. 

Nanami walks around you and heads to the front door. You follow behind as he's grabbing his jacket and bags from the table when he turns around to look at you. "I'm not sure if I should say this or not, but I really wouldn't mind if your daughter runs around a bit. I haven't heard anything from up here since the day you moved in... you don't have to be so careful. It's ok if you show a couple signs of life up here." He gives his last smile before opening the door, "See you soon, y/n." Nanami softly closes the door behind him. 

You stare at the door after his departure, his business card still in your hands. Show a couple signs of life up here. Anywhere else you've lived, you've been shushed through the walls and neighbors would complain about hearing your baby when you were trying your best to keep her quiet. You got used to keeping quiet ever since. Maybe it is ok — loud laughter, speaking a bit louder, maybe that much would be ok.

You smile down at the business card and put it behind your phone case for safekeeping.

Nanami returns to his apartment and looks at his watch. A little more than 25 minutes left for lunch. He sets his bags down and thinks about his pretty and nice neighbor. So she is a single mom. He sits on his couch and takes out his phone. 

Truman was no longer looking over his shoulder to make sure everything was being done correctly. Nanami did not want to mess this up.

Google search: how to replace a sink trap 

♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡

Chapter 2: The Pizza and the Tooth Fairy

[imagine-knowing-a-name]

déjà vu

Summary: After Age of Ultron, the team are left with the decision of what to do with Wanda, and they’re not in agreement. Natasha becomes staunchly defensive of the witch, remembering her own fate at SHIELD was decided in a similar manner.

(Summaries are tricky but Nat defends Wanda, R defends Nat, then they comfort each other at the end)

Word Count: 1188

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff & Reader; Wanda Maximoff & Reader (Platonic)

Warnings: Half the team are being mean to Wanda and Natasha gets sad :(

A/N: Based on this request. Thank you all for the awesome response to my last fic, it gave me the motivation to write despite everything else going on rn, so thank you and reminder to reblog and comment on fics if you can, because that’s what keeps writers posting their fics on here :) Enjoy!

»»————-　★　————-««

"We cannot let her waltz around scot-free without any repentance for her crimes!"

"She just lost her homeland and her twin brother; you don't think that's enough punishment?"

"She's HYDRA. She volunteered. She is everything we've been fighting against and you want us to, what? take her under our wing? make her even stronger than she already is?"

"Yes! That's the kind of power we want on our side-"

To nobody's surprise, Steve and Tony are at odds, driving the argument. Thor had backed Steve with the insight that second chances had done his brother a world of good. But everyone remembers the Battle of New York, and soon even Steve is wishing the God of Thunder would rescind his support. Bruce agrees with Tony, still racked with guilt over the Johannesburg incident. Then Clint voices his support for Steve, upon a conditional level of trust, to return the sides to an imbalance.

Sam and Rhodey use their newcomer status to remove their ballot from the decision; the two of them sneaking off, likely to do better things with their time.

The argument continues, never ceasing for breaths since everyone talks over each other, constantly interrupting the previous point. You grimace from your place in the corner; sitting, observing, and waiting for them to tire themselves out before you say your piece. Natasha meets your eye. She is doing the same.

"She's a child!" Steve continues

"She's going on 26! Steve you were Captain America by that age, I was the most famous CEO in the world! We weren't let off the hook for anything, were we? We weren't told we were 'just kids so it's all okay'. I paid for my mistakes, same as you did, and this glowing ball in my chest is proof of that."

"That's enough," Natasha finally speaks. Her voice is all it takes to bring the group to silence. "She's a victim. She was manipulated into her actions and she came around as soon as she realised that. We've all made mistakes, and joining the Avengers was our chance at redemption; let her have that."

"Her actions are her own, and I'm sorry, but they're too severe to wave off as a mistake, or ignorance"

"Is that the same with me?"

"What?"

"See, I was a victim too, but no one ever treated me like one."

"Nat-"

"No. Nobody was controlling me when I went through the Red Room; my actions were all my own, same as Wanda. But when your childhood is defined by manipulation and indoctrination, how much does that matter? I did the only thing I knew how to do and followed orders, same as Wanda, and I lost people along the way, same as Wanda. Have you even spoken to her, Tony? She's known since the age of 10 that your missile killed her parents, and HYDRA took advantage of that; you think you'd keep a levelhead if you found someone responsible for your parents' deaths?

So no. I spent too long thinking my transgressions were all my own, and I won't stand here and let Wanda believe the same."

Natasha strides out of the door with purpose and speed, while all eyes in the room track her movements in silence. It is only when the door slams that the team begins to break from their stupor.

You look around unsurely, meeting everyone's eyes as if to confirm its truth. You are the first to break the silence. "I'm going after her." Nobody contests.

You don't rush, you know where Natasha is after all and you know she needs time alone, but you also know to check up on her after an argument like that. You were there when Clint brought her back to SHIELD, when Fury and the archer broke into arguments echoingly similar to the one the team just had. You remember how much she struggled from her own mind, how they left her in a cell, just as the Avengers now have to Wanda, and you remember the thin walls, where Natasha could overhear all their arguments regardless of how you tried to distract her. 

It isn't a surprise to you when you open Natasha's door and she refuses to speak. She watches you enter and makes space for you to sit beside her on the bed, but she doesn't speak. You talk to her for a bit, praising her stance, but it's clear she needs longer alone.

"I'll be here when you need," you say. She nods. You walk back to where you're needed most, passing through the common room still full of arguing Avengers on your way.

"Stop thinking about yourselves for once, and think about your fucking team," you say without even stopping to look at them, then you continue your path out of the room.

»»————-　★　————-««

Guilt sets in on the remaining Avengers as they fall to silence yet again. Clint reminds them what Natasha went through and from that memory, Natasha's hasty exit, and your outburst after seeing the assassin, they can all conclude how much the topic has hurt their teammate.

Clint apologies through her bedroom door; the others say sorry to her face once she lets them in. Natasha sighs, then nods her acceptance of their apologies. "The person you really should be saying this to is Wanda. She deserves support, not solitary isolation."

"Yeah, I don't think it's all that solitary," Tony says. He flicks his wrist to the wall, and soon enough FRIDAY is displaying a feed of Wanda's cell.

"Is that Y/N?" Steve asks, squinting for a better look.

Meanwhile, Natasha smiles, recognising the scene in front of her and knowing, with certainty, that it was you. She watches you and Wanda sit cross-legged on the floor with a plastic yellow board coming up between you. You both analyse it closely until you pull a circular blue chip from your hand and slide it in.

"That's four!" you cheer. Pointing out the four circles you had managed to connect. Wanda frowns, but you can tell it is not akin to the sorrow she had felt so often recently. At this moment, her mind is distracted entirely from that and focused only on the game. 

"We have to play again. I can win this, I know," the Sokovian frowns. "I get first move."

You're still dividing the 'connect 4' pieces into their respective colours when a knock sounds on the cell door. You look up as Natasha opens the door, greeting Wanda with a smile.

"You doing okay?" you ask.

Natasha nods. "Thank you for being here, Y/N. And as for Wanda-" she switches her gaze- "we've got a room prepared for you if you're willing to stay. You can learn to control your powers; the team agreed I can train you."

"I would like that," Wanda mumbles, her nerves around the assassin still clear.

"Come on then, I'll take you to your room.” Natasha smiles and escorts her out, but before falling out of your earshot, she leans into Wanda conspiratorially, “I’ll even give you the secret to beating Y/N at that game.”

[stnkiconverse]

hai!!! may i request toby with a reader who has a Very obvious crush on him??? who always does stuff for him and acts sort of like a loyal dog?? not in a super intense way tho...

Tysm!! i love ur writing a lot. have a good day / night ^_^

Toby x Reader with an obvious crush!! (thx for liking my writing!!)

Reader’s Behavior:

1. Acts of Service:

- You’re always doing little things for Toby—bringing him snacks, tidying up his room, and making sure he has everything he needs for missions.

- He notices how you go out of your way to ensure he’s comfortable and well taken care of, often before he even realizes what he needs.

2. Loyalty and Support:

- You’re incredibly loyal, always there to listen to him vent about his frustrations or to provide a calming presence when his tics are particularly bad.

- Your unwavering support and loyalty don’t go unnoticed, and Toby secretly finds it comforting to have someone who’s always on his side.

3. Affectionate Gestures:

- You frequently give Toby small, affectionate gestures like patting his shoulder, offering a warm smile, or even playfully ruffling his hair.

- Although you’re careful not to overstep his boundaries, your affection is clear in every little action.

Toby’s Reaction:

4. Confusion and Denial:

- Initially, Toby is confused by your obvious crush. He’s not used to receiving such genuine affection and loyalty, so he tries to dismiss it as simple kindness.

- Despite his confusion, he finds himself looking forward to your presence and the little things you do for him.

5. Growing Awareness:

- Over time, Toby becomes more aware of your feelings. He starts to notice the way you look at him, the slight blush that creeps up your cheeks when he’s near, and the extra effort you put into making him happy.

- He begins to realize that your actions go beyond mere friendship, and it makes him both nervous and oddly happy.

6. Internal Struggle:

- Toby struggles with his own feelings in response to your obvious crush. He’s not sure if he deserves your affection or if he can handle being in a relationship given his past and his disorders.

- Despite his reservations, he can’t deny the warmth and comfort he feels when you’re around.

Developing Feelings:

7. Softening Up:

- Toby starts to soften towards you, allowing himself to be more open and vulnerable. He appreciates your loyalty and the genuine care you show him.

- He starts to reciprocate your affectionate gestures in small ways, like brushing his hand against yours or giving you a rare, genuine smile.

8. Protectiveness:

- Toby becomes increasingly protective of you, not wanting anyone or anything to hurt you. Your loyalty and affection make him feel responsible for your safety and happiness.

- He often finds himself going out of his way to ensure you’re safe, whether it’s accompanying you on errands or standing up for you when others are being harsh.

Realization and Acceptance:

9. Mutual Understanding:

- One day, Toby finally confronts his feelings and your obvious crush. He awkwardly admits that he’s noticed your affection and, despite his initial confusion, he’s grown to care for you deeply.

- You both have a heartfelt conversation about your feelings, and Toby admits that he’s scared but willing to give it a try because you make him feel seen and valued.

10. Growing Closer:

- After acknowledging your feelings for each other, you and Toby grow even closer. Your relationship evolves from one-sided crush to a mutual bond filled with affection and understanding.

- Toby still struggles with his past trauma, but with you by his side, he feels more capable of facing his demons. Your loyalty and love become his anchor, helping him navigate the complexities of his life.

Hope this was good enough!!

[hockey-fics]

Gin, Tonic, and Tequila Shots ~ Jack Hughes

Summary: You really didn’t think you could expect much from a relationship that started with nothing more than hooking up. But as the occurrences become more and more frequent your feelings become more and more involved in something that you were sure could only end in heartbreak.

Word Count: ~5,500

Warnings: Drinking, smut, jealousy, language, brief toxic male behaviour. 

A/N: I didn’t edit this super well because, honestly, I don’t love it enough to read through it many times. But I really hope it’s better than I think it is for everyone’s sake.  

It was just supposed to be fun. And if you were being honest, it had been incredibly fun. The two of you ran in the same circles, in a way. At the very least you were both at the same house party one time and it seemed that as time went by those occurrences only became more and more frequent. You had talked, casually and in passing, before you truly got to know each other. In fact, for awhile you didn’t even really know each other’s names. 

But one thing you could remember was the night things truly ramped up, like someone had engraved it into your brain, still there even though it had been almost a year since that night. 

10 Months Ago 

You pull him over to the table from where he had been leaning against the wall, pretending not to be watching you play beer pong throughout the last game. “You’re going to be my partner now,” you tell him with the confidence that only shots of vodka could truly give you. 

“Am I?” he chuckles, a beer in one hand as you set the ping pong ball into his other. 

“Yeah,” you smirk, stepping back and glancing at the other side of the table. “Your turn,” you tell him, nodding towards the table. 

Jack shakes his head, giving you an equally enticing smirk as he turns to the table to take his first shot. You watch the ball he had thrown land perfectly in one of your opponent’s cups. “Not bad,” you comment, with the full knowledge that it was much more impressive than just not bad. “I’m Y/N,” you tell him before taking your shot, your own ping pong ball landing in a cup on the other side of the table. 

“Nice shot, Y/N.” He brings his beer to his lips, taking a large gulp, like he was hoping it would give him the power to sustain whatever he had just walked into. “I’m Jack.”

The rest of the game proceeds in the same manner, little jabs and flirtatious comments directed at each other throughout it. 

It took only the length of one game till the two of you had locked yourselves in the bathroom of the house you were at. You didn’t even know whose house it was but you were very grateful for the sufficient counter space that you were perched on, Jack between your legs making you moan loudly. 

“You need to be quiet,” Jack mutters, after pulling back to look at you, his hands firmly grasping your thighs. 

You’re breathless but you mange to breathe out an okay and paired with the nod you give him it seems to be enough to give him the reassurance to get back to it. You’re ecstatic that he does as you’re rocked through an orgasm that makes you clutch the edge of the counter so hard your knuckles turn white. 

“Fuck,” is all you manage to say as Jack wipes his lips with the back of his hand before bringing his lips back to yours in a passionate and heated kiss. You’re a fluster of movements and adjusting and grappling before you’re pressed over the bathroom counter. He has his hand in your hair, pulling your head back to look at him in the mirror while he slams into you. He was right that you needed to be quiet, but he was making it incredibly hard as he hit parts of you very few people had before. 

You’re barely able to pull yourself to standing after he’s done with you, your body feeling like jello as you lean into the counter. “Holy shit,” you whisper. But your heart sinks a little when you see that he was already on his phone just minutes after pulling himself out of you. Biting the inside of your lip you scramble to begin pulling your clothes on. 

“So, do you want to stay at my place tonight? Or do you want to go to your place? Or…”

Your eyebrows furrow as you stare at him, your shirt still in your hands. “What?”

Jack turns his phone around, showing you that he was trying to get an Uber. “I mean, I don’t know, if you want to stay here that’s cool but that kinda took it outta me,” Jack chuckles as he turns his phone back around to look at it. “Up to you, whatever you want to do.”

You’re staring at him, mind racing to figure out what to say. “I’m going to stay,” you finally blurt out. You didn’t want to. You really didn’t want to. But you also didn’t want to seem like you were too invested in something with the guy who just fucked you in the bathroom at a house party. 

Jack is silent for longer than you had expected before shrugging. “Okay, whatever.” 

When he left that bathroom you hadn’t expected to feel quite as deflated as you did. At least you knew each other’s names now. But there was a part of you that wished you didn’t, it was less disheartening that way. 

That was until a couple days later when you got a text from an unknown number. 

‘Hey, it’s Jack. Got your number from a friend. We’re going out for drinks, wanna come?’

It was a Friday and after you got home from work that evening you had immediately slipped into pyjamas, slathered on your skincare and called it a night. But that text changed everything as you hurried about your apartment trying to put yourself back together without looking too put together. ‘Yeah, sure. Where?’

You had gotten the name of the bar a few minutes later and met him and his group of friends that only seemed vaguely familiar there later that night. The end of that night went much like the first, though you had at the very least ended up back at his apartment and in a bed this time. But again you weren’t sure how to handle the situation. You didn’t want to seem clingy or pushy so you pulled your clothes on as soon as it was over, heading out the second you managed to get an Uber. 

It wasn’t until he ended up at your apartment that things changed. He didn’t leave immediately. He fell asleep beside you in your bed, both of you waking up the next morning beside each other. And something about that seemed to change the situation. Something about waking up next to each other, seeing each other with sober eyes. 

Suddenly you weren’t just using drinking or partying as an excuse to see each other. Of course that didn’t stop. You were still going to the same parties and running into each other on nights out. But beyond that he was calling you after hard practices or late at night when he had just gotten back from one city or another. And you were calling him over when you were in your apartment alone and all you wanted was for someone to run their hands over your body and touch you in a way that Jack seemed to do so well. 

Current Day

It had been ten months. They were ten great months, but it was a long time to be hooking up with someone for nothing to come from it. Not that you didn’t want anything to come from it. Hell, somewhere in the back of your mind you knew you would without a doubt say yes to being his girlfriend. But you shovelled that back into the depths of your brain, because if you knew you really had feelings for him you needed to address it with him or you would inevitably end up heart broken.

But you didn’t. You refused to say anything, to bring anything up to him. 

“So you’re just going to let yourself get hurt?” Taylor asks one Saturday afternoon as the two of you were getting ready to go to Jack’s hockey game that he had invited you to. He had also invited you to go out to a bar with him and some friends after so you didn’t read too much into the game invite if it was just a step in the direction of getting you into bed later that night. 

“I’m not going to get hurt,” you tell her, a blatant lie. But at least if you said it out loud you could maybe pretend that it didn’t hurt so bad when it did happen. You just didn’t want to admit that you had given him the power to hurt you. “He’s just good in bed.”

“Shut up,” Taylor laughs, laying across your bed giving you advice about what to wear that night. “You like him, stop lying to me.”

For a moment you consider lying to her, continuing with your little charade of only liking him because he made you finish, which was more than you could say about most guys. But you couldn’t. You couldn’t because he also made you laugh and he made you happy and he made you feel safe. “I just don’t think he wants anything more.”

“Has he told you that?” Taylor inquires. “But if that’s true I really think you need to end this thing you’re doing with him.”

Rolling your eyes you turn back to your closet, knowing she was right but also knowing you were annoyed by it. “He hasn’t told me that but if he wanted something he would have said something about it by now.”

“You haven’t,” Taylor points out. 

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” you snap, picking out a shirt and turning back to look at her. “Sorry, I just, I don’t know,” you mutter.  

“It’s fine, I just don’t want you to get hurt but I also don’t want to push you to do anything you don’t want to do,” Taylor assures you, eyes switching from looking at you to the shirt you were holding. “I like that one.”

It’s a few hours later and you’re sitting in the arena watching the game, your eyes barely leaving Jack when he was on the ice and still seeming to get drawn to him when he wasn’t. You’re not sure how three hours could fly by so quickly but as soon the game comes to an end with the Devils winning 3-2 you couldn’t wait to get out of there and get to the bar to meet up with Jack. 

You knew waiting for him and going over to the bar with him was an option, but you figured it would just be easier to just meet there. You hadn’t anticipated how long you and Taylor would be waiting, and you definitely didn’t anticipate ending up at a table with a few guys who had approached the two of you and offered to buy you both a drink. 

“You want to do a shot?” The man sitting beside you asks. He had told you his name was Owen, he was an investment banker and most definitely a little too old for you. But you didn’t mind, it wasn’t like you had any intention of doing anything with him, the attention and free drinks just felt nice. 

You pretend to think it over, already knowing the answer. “Only if it’s tequila.”

“Deal,” he chuckles, standing up and taking your hand, leading you away from the table to an empty spot at the bar. You watch him rest his forearms on it, your eyes drawn to the obnoxiously large watch on his wrist. “Two shots of Don Julio 1942,” Owen says as the bartender approaches. 

You have to physically stop yourself from rolling your eyes as he orders it, watching him fork over nearly fifty dollars for the two shots. He was obviously trying to impress you. But you weren’t overly impressed by him spending excessive money on a shot of tequila. Especially when you were immediately going to chase it with your gin and tonic. Because truthfully, you hated the taste of tequila but you loved the effect it had on you. 

You take the shot as the bartender sets it down, not trusting Owen enough to let him hand it to you. After a quick cheers you pour the liquid down your throat, trying not to wince as you quickly wash away the remnants with your drink. 

“I thought you liked tequila,” Owen comments, the breath of laughter that follows was tinged with an obvious annoyance. 

Shrugging you lean into the bar, looking up at him. “I don’t love the taste, but you know what they say.”

Owen raises his eyebrows, leaning a little closer to you. “And what is that?”

You knew you shouldn’t say what you were about to say. There was no reason for it. But you were tipsy and you didn’t care about leading anyone on or saying something you shouldn’t. “Tequila makes her clothes fall off.”

“Well in that case I guess I’ll be getting you another shot,” Owen smirks, about to raise his hand up to get the bartender’s attention again. 

Quickly you put your hand on his forearm, laughing softly. “If I keep going at this rate the only thing that’s going to be falling is me…on the ground.”

“Okay, okay, but let me know when you’re ready for another.” His eyes move from staring down at you to just behind you and you flinch when you feel a hand on your back. 

Whipping your head to the side you let out a breath of relief when you see that it was Jack. “Taylor told me you were over here,” he comments but his voice is quiet and he has his arm around your waist. Normally the two of you were pretty hands off in any situation that wasn’t just the two of you. “Come on, we have a table in the back.”

“I-,” you begin, glancing back at Owen, feeling Jack pull you a little closer as you do. “Sorry, I, um, I have to go. Thank you for the shot.”

“You’re fucking kidding me,” Owen snaps, shaking his head. “Want to tell your boyfriend what you were saying to me?”

“What? He’s not…he’s not my boyfriend,” you stammer but your cheeks are red hot as the tequila was hitting at the same time as the reality of this situation. 

Owen scoffs, turning his attention to Jack now. “Do your know your girl is acting like a slut to get free drinks?”

Jack’s hands are off you a second later and he’s stepping around you, putting himself between you and Owen. “Say that again,” Jack snaps. 

“Okay, okay,” you interrupt, shuffling yourself back between them. Your hands were on Jack’s chest, pushing him back a few steps. “It’s not worth it, okay? Let’s just go, this night doesn’t need to end like this,” you tell him. 

You can tell he’s hesitant but Jack relents, taking your hand and pulling you towards the back of the bar. Before you can reach the table Jack pulls you to the side, his hand on the back of your head as he leans down and kisses you with an intensity that seemed angry. “Woah, okay,” you whisper against his lips as he pulls back. 

“You know I’ll buy you all the drinks you want, don’t fucking flirt with other guys for drinks,” Jack mutters, standing up straighter and confirming your suspicion about the anger hidden in the kiss. 

“You do not get to tell me not to flirt with other guys, for drinks or for anything else,” you defend, crossing your arms over your chest, trying your best to seem like you were actually upset that he was telling you not to flirt with other guys. 

“He was like thirty-five, are you fucking kidding me?”

“Fuck off, Jack,” you snap, stepping away from him. “Just leave me alone.”

“Hey, hey,” Jack comments, groaning as he follows you towards the table where Taylor was sitting and giggling about who knows what. 

When you throw yourself down beside Taylor she immediately asks what’s wrong but you simply shake your head, giving her a look to say that you would explain it another time. Jack sits down at the table seemingly as far away from you as possible, slouching down in his seat and picking up the pint of beer that was in front of him. You’re trying not to look at him but you can’t help it, glancing over at him a little too often. You can tell he’s doing the same, your eyes meeting too often for it to be a coincidental. And you’re not even paying attention to any of the conversation happening around you, mind entirely focused on Jack and his behaviour. 

You feel Taylor nudge your arm and you look over at her, noticing she must have asked you something and was waiting for a response. “Bathroom?” Taylor repeats, realizing you were lost in whatever you were thinking about. Standing up you follow her to the bathroom where she leans against the counter, giving you a look. 

“What’s going on?” she asks. 

Sighing you give her a shrug, not even sure yourself what was going on or where to start. “Owen told him I was being a slut to get free drinks which, whatever, I don’t care, but Jack got mad about it. I convinced him it wasn’t worth it to get into anything with Owen. But then he got pissed at me about flirting with Owen.”

Taylor rolls her eyes, lips curling into a smirk. “Hmm, I wonder why,” she comments sarcastically. 

“What?” you mutter, arms crossed over your chest. “Because Owen is older? I don’t think Jack should get to decide who I talk to."

“You’re such an idiot,” Taylor breathes out, shaking her head. “He’s jealous.”

“Well he doesn’t have to be such an ass,” you mumble under your breath, starring down at the ground. 

“Both of you just need to grow up and have a real conversation about what’s going on with you two.”

“I know,” you admit, looking over at her. “I will…not tonight though.”

“No shit, this is not the time,” she laughs, grabbing your arm and nodding towards the door. As the two of you head back to the table she pauses just behind Jack. “Oh look, a seat for you,” she comments, pushing you towards him before making her way back to the other side of the table. 

Hesitantly you sit down in the open spot next to Jack, eyes on the table till you feel him put his arm around the back of your chair, leaning in closer to you. “Hey, I shouldn’t have snapped at you, I’m sorry,” he says, voice quiet to keep the conversation between you and him. 

“It’s okay, I shouldn’t have either,” you reply, looking over at him. “Do you want to go get a drink with me?”

Jack nods, following your lead to the bar, leaning against it beside you. “What do you want?”

“I can get my own drinks,” you tell him, still a little shaken up by the acting like a slut to get drinks comment. 

“I know you can,” Jack chuckles. “I want to get it.”

Smiling up at him you give in, realistically knowing that wasn’t what Jack was thinking. “You know what I want.”

“Yeah, I do, but what do you want to drink?” Jack jokes, receiving a playful whack on the bicep from you. “Gin and tonic, you want a double?”

“Yes, please.” You’re glancing around the bar as Jack orders the drinks when your eyes land on Taylor, watching the two of you like a hawk. Shaking your head you laugh softly, looking back to Jack. 

“What’s so funny?”

“Just, uh, Taylor, she’s,” you begin before nodding in the direction of the table. 

Jack takes the hint and looks over, eyebrows furrowed. “Why was she staring?”

“She just…,” you begin, picking up your drink and taking a large gulp, trying to buy yourself some time to explain it. “She thinks you’re jealous and now she’s really invested in us.”

“Jealous of her?”

“No,” you laugh, shaking your head. “Of me with other…guys.”

Jack takes a second for what you were saying to sink in. “I mean, yeah.”

“Yeah, what?”

“I don’t want to see you with other guys, yeah, I was jealous.”

Swallowing heavily you feel your palms become clammy, cheeks beginning to flush. “Why?”

“Because I want you to myself,” Jack says so casually you’re sure you simply misheard him. “Do you want me to go try to get with someone else?”

“No,” you reply so quickly that you’re filled with a deep sense of embarrassment. “I mean, like, probably not, but you can…if you want.”

“I don’t want to,” Jack assures you, the two of you turning and heading back to the table. You take the seat beside Jack again, a little closer this time. Thankfully now that you were a little less distracted you were actually able to pay attention and contribute to the conversation. 

When everyone is heading out for the night Jack has his hands all over you, holding your hand or wrapping his arm around your waist. You had no idea what had gotten into him but you were assuming it was his way of asserting to everyone in that bar that you weren’t available. Everyone is standing outside waiting for their rides home and you’re a little tipsy as you press your back into Jack’s chest, tipping your head back onto his shoulder and looking up at him. “Can I come over?”

“Yeah, I kinda just thought you would be.”

You try to hide the fact that his comment makes your heart beat a little faster, your stomach filling with butterflies, an obnoxiously happy smile on your face. Jack wraps his arms over you, pulling you even closer into his body. “Uber should be here soon,” he tells you. 

You see Taylor looking at you with a knowing smirk, shaking her head in amusement before turning her attention back to her phone. “I’ll be right back,” you whisper to Jack, slipping from his arms to walk over to Taylor. “How are you getting home? I can come with you if you want.”

“Absolutely not,” Taylor giggles. “Go be with your boyfriend. Liam is going to pick me up.” 

You quickly hush her, glancing around to see if anyone had overheard her boyfriend comment. “Okay, I’ll stay till he’s here.”

Once you make sure Taylor is with her boyfriend you head back to Jack’s place in an awkwardly silent Uber, only a handful of words being exchanged till you’re in Jack’s apartment. 

“You know I wasn’t going to do anything with him, right?” you tell Jack, sitting on the kitchen counter, drinking a glass of wine from the bottle you had left there the last time you were over. 

“Hm?” Jack hums, closing the fridge after getting a beer and walking over to you, standing between your legs. 

“I wasn’t going to do anything with him…the guy at the bar.”

Jack lets out a loud breath, setting his beer down and running his hands along your thighs. “I don’t want to hear about you with another guy.”

“I’m telling you I wasn’t going to do anything with him,” you reiterate. 

“Good,” Jack comments, pulling you closer to the edge of the counter. “But I still don’t want to hear about it.”

“You really are jealous,” you tease, setting your glass down and leaning down to kiss him. 

Jack kisses you back, tugging you off the counter and onto your feet. “Yeah, I am,” he mutters shamelessly. His lips are on yours again a second later and there’s a thrilling intensity to the kiss that you hadn’t experienced with him before. As Jack runs his hands under your shirt, fingers on your bare skin, you moan quietly into his mouth. “Let’s go to my room,” Jack mumbles, pulling back and letting you take the lead.

It doesn’t even feel like a second passes between him closing the door and him pulling the shirt off your body. With a playful smirk you do the same, tugging his shirt off and tossing it aside carelessly. The two of you are back to kissing as you fumble through the dim room to the bed where you push him back and climb onto him, knees on either side of his body. There’s a desperation to the kiss as Jack unhooks your bra, letting you pull back only to take it off your body. 

Rolling off of him you watch as he takes your jeans off, hand running up your inner thigh as he moves to hover over you, his lips on your neck, moving down to your chest as you whimper with desperation, hips squirming under him. “Please,” you whine as his fingers brush over the lacy fabric of your underwear, ones that you picked out specifically knowing the inevitably of this situation. 

He gives in to your begging, pulling back to tug your underwear off your body. He brings his fingers back exactly where you wanted them, a quiet gasp as his fingers brush over your clit. “Just like that,” you whisper as his fingers hit a rhythm that makes your fingers dig into his back. You’re alternating between kissing him and pulling back to catch your breath, quiet moans emanating from you with increasing frequency, clutching onto him desperately. “Oh, fuck,” you moan as your muscles tense, body jolting with a wave of intense pleasure. “Fuck,” you breathe out again, body relaxing into the bed under him as you stare up at him with a smile you simply couldn’t get rid of. 

“You’re so fucking hot,” Jack mutters, eyes not leaving you as you press your hand into his chest, pushing him back till he was standing by the side of the bed. 

Climbing off the bed you stand in front of him, kissing him again as your fingers work on the button of his jeans. He pulls back and takes over, the two of you completely naked just a couple seconds later. Not that it was out of the ordinary, at this point you were fairly sure you had spent more time together naked than not. 

Lowering yourself to your knees you keep your eyes on him, watching the look of desperation cross his face. Your movements are especially slow, drawing it out, taking pleasure in making him wait for it. His breathing is unsteady and you feel his hand fall to the back of your head, not putting any pressure on it but you got the message loud and clear. Relenting, you let him have exactly what he wants and the groan that you earn as soon as he’s in your mouth makes it worth it. There’s something about the sounds he makes that always encouraged you to give him everything you were capable of. And tonight was no different, your eyes were watering, knees beginning to ache when he pulls you to your feet, nodding towards the bed. 

“Get on the bed.”

Sitting on the edge of the bed you lean back on your arms, looking up at him with a smirk as he takes a condom out of the bedside table and slides it on. “I want you inside me,” you whisper, batting your eyes with feigned innocence. 

A strangled groan leaves Jack’s lips as he steps over, kissing you quickly before placing his hand on the side of your waist, pushing you sideways. It was far from your first time figuring out his silent communication, turning yourself over onto your hands and knees. He’s still standing beside the bed when he tugs your hips back before easing himself into you. It’s slow and gentle just until your moans give him permission to pick up speed. 

His hand is tangled in your hair, tugging your head back as you’re moaning and grasping the bedsheets. “You like that?” Jack mutters, his voice strained. 

“Yes,” you gasp as he lets go of your hair, letting you fall back onto your forearms. “Fuck, please, you feel so good,” you whisper, your entire body feeling flushed and shaky as he slams into you at an unrelenting pace. You can tell he’s close to finishing, you knew him well enough to be able to predict it by his changing movements. You find your prediction coming true with Jack pulling out of you just a couple minutes later. 

After turning yourself back over you watch him begin cleaning himself up, completely distracted as you contemplate your next move. “Can you hand me my phone? I’m going to Uber home.”

The way Jack whips his head in your direction, eyebrows furrowed makes you giggle quietly. “What? Why?”

Laughing you sit up straighter, shaking your head. “I’m kidding,” you tell him. “But it’s cute that you don’t want me to leave.”

“I didn’t say that,” Jack tells you but there’s not even an ounce of him that tries to make it sound convincing. 

Rolling your eyes you lay back down, staring up at the ceiling. “You and I both know you don’t need to say it out loud.”

Jack is quiet for a second and you begin to wonder if he had gone into the bathroom. “Yeah,” Jack finally mumbles before actually retreating into the bathroom. 

It’s easy to fall asleep that night. Easier than it had been in a very long time. You didn’t know what it was, the remnants of alcohol in your bloodstream, the physical exhaustion from everything that had happened in the last hour, the feeling of Jack’s arm wrapped around your body, or something much more meaningful than that. 

It’s not often that you wake up after Jack but on this morning you did, thankfully less hungover than you were expecting to be. Crawling out of Jack’s bed you pull one of his t-shirts on, heading out to find him in the living room. “Morning,” you say softly, walking over and lowering yourself onto the couch next to him. 

“How’re you feeling?”

Shrugging you pull your legs up onto the couch, leaning your side against the back of it so that you could face Jack. “Honestly, pretty good. I don’t think I was really even drunk last night. How about you?”

“I only had like five drinks and almost a full one of those is still sitting in the kitchen with your wine.”

“Sorry for not letting you finish it,” you joke. A moment later you take a deep breath, looking into his eyes. “Jack, we need to talk.”

“Okay,” Jack mutters, waiting for you to go on with a look of confusion on his face. 

You knew you just needed to say it, that there wouldn’t be an easy way to say it so you just had to do it. “I like you, Jack. I mean, I have feelings for you and I don’t know what this is for you but I don’t know if I can keep doing this if it’s not going to become anything more.”

Jack is quiet for so long that you begin to prepare for what you expect is coming next. This really was just a friends with benefits thing for him. 

“I thought last night made it obvious enough that I do too.”

“What?” is all you manage to croak out, not fully believing him and not wanting to get your hopes up that he was saying what you were hoping he was saying. 

“I want this to be more.”

“Like…,” you begin, not knowing what to even ask after that, not wanting to embarrass yourself and say something that he wasn’t meaning. 

“I want more, I want to actually be with you,” Jack tells you, seeming much more calm about the situation than you were. 

Simply hearing him say what you had been desperately hoping for leaves you speechless. “I want that too,” you finally whisper.

Jack reaches over and grabs your hands, tugging you forward to straddle him. “I hated seeing you flirting with another guy,” Jack mutters, his hands under your shirt, resting on your waist. “I didn’t know what to say about it without just telling you the truth.”

“I promise it didn’t mean anything, I had no interest in him, but I’m sorry that it upset you.”

“As long as you don’t do it anymore.”

“Of course not,” you assure him with a quiet giggle, leaning in and pressing your lips to his gently. “When are you going to take me on a date? A real one, without our friends there.”

“Tomorrow night?” Jack suggests, getting a nod in response from you before you’re kissing him again. 

This time when you’re kissing him it feels different, there’s no expectation that the only purpose it served was as the first step towards sex. It felt so much more comfortable, safer now knowing that if you were going to get hurt in this situation it wouldn’t be the result of not having the courage to tell him how you really felt. 

[vodika-vibes]

It's Not That Complicated

Summary: You have a complicated relationship with Crosshair. More than friends but less than a couple. Friends with benefits might be the closest descriptor, but even that doesn’t feel right. When a mission goes wrong, Crosshair takes the chance to clear the air.

Pairing: Rebel! Crosshair x F!Reader

Word Count: 2636

Warnings: None

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: This is based in the same setting as my Imperial!Tech fic. Because it's a fun setting and I kind of love it.

“No need to panic,” You call over your shoulder as your hands fly across the console of your ship, doing everything in your power to keep the ship level. “Everything is fine.”

“Really?” Crosshair asks as he glances out the window, “Because I think that was an engine.”

“Well, we only need one.” You say cheerfully, just as another explosion rocks your ship.

“...that was the second engine.” Crosshair offers mildly, as if commenting on the weather.

“Still no need to panic. We’re fine.”

Your hands fly even faster across the console, as you manage to keep the ship level. You pause for a moment to fasten your harness, and then you go back to work.

There’s a ripping noise, and your fingers pause, while Crosshair glances out the other window, “Ah.”

“What?”

“We just lost a wing.”

You’re silent for a moment, “It’s fine. Not a problem.”

“At what point does this become a problem?” Crosshair asks as he also fastens his harness.

“Oh…in about 10 minutes when we want to land.”

His sharp eyes snap to the back of your head, “Please tell me you're joking.”

“Yes, of course.” You flash a small, cocky grin in his direction, “I am the best, after all.”

“If you were actually as good as you think you are, we wouldn’t be in this situation.” Crosshair points out.

“Stow it.” You snip, “And brace for impact, we’re going to land hard.”

“Of course we are.” Still Crosshair does as you ask, at least, you assume that he does, you’re a bit distracted with making sure you both survive this.

You slow the ship and drop the landing gear, and carefully, very carefully, bring the ship down. It’s harder, with only one wing, but you manage it.

The ship lands hard, hard enough that it rattles your teeth in your head, and you can hear the landing gear snap as the ship slides on the ice. And then, it comes to a stop and topples to the side, leaning against the singular remaining wing.

“...well. Any landing you can walk away from, right?”

Crosshair shoots you a look, “You have got to be kidding me.”

“Nope.” You unfasten your harness and get to your feet. Bruised and battered, but still alive. “You alright?”

“I think my teeth rattled out of my head.” Crosshair bitches as he unfastens his harness and makes his way to the door. He has to pry it open, and he kicks the emergency slide down.

“Good thing we have excellent health and dental.” You chirp as you pull on winter weather gear and grab your kit.

Crosshair rolls his eyes, “Come on, kitten. Off the ship.”

“Yeah, yeah.” You scramble over to him and, with his help, you slide down the emergency ramp and land in a pile of snow. “Cross! This planet sucks!” You call up to the ship.

“Deal with it!” He calls back, “I’m sending the pack down to you.” He sets a large pack on the ramp and slides it down to you, before he slides down himself. 

You watch him get to his feet, before you hand the massive pack to him, and then you cast your gaze over your ship, “I’m going to give her a once over. I might be able to fix her.”

Crosshair’s face isn’t noticeable, due to his helmet, but he tilts his head in a way that you are very familiar with. “Go ahead. But we can’t stay long.”

“Yay! Thanks Cross.” You grab your kit and hurry over to the ship, effortlessly scrambling back up the ramp and climbing up onto the roof to take a look at the damage. 

You’ve been a pilot for the Rebellion since the fall of the Republic, and, before that, you were a pilot for the GAR. Of course, the GAR didn’t need any natborn pilots, because of all of the clone pilots, so you had often been confined to the hangar and playing maintenance. 

With the rise of the Empire, you lost your job completely. Your supervisor had been very apologetic when he canceled your contract, claiming that the Imperial Army couldn’t afford mechanics of your caliber. And then, privately, he told you that the new policies barred women from being pilots. 

At the time, you had been incensed. 

Even with the nice payout you got for them breaking your contract.

It was a stroke of good fortune that you were snatched up by the Alderaanian Military as soon as the contract was canceled. And, as it happens, the Alderaanian Military to Rebel Alliance pipeline is very real.

That is how you met Crosshair, and his kid sister, Omega.

As you understand it, Crosshair’s chip never activated when the Purge began (and wasn’t that a trip and a half to learn, that all of the clones had control chips in their brains that would overwrite their freewill), but all of his brothers did, and Crosshair had been forced to run with Omega when his older brother tried to kill them.

He doesn’t like talking about it. But Omega can be bribed with the right candy or food, and she’s happy to talk about how she came to be a part of the Rebellion.

From the start, you and Crosshair were often paired up. The best pilot in the Rebellion partnered up with the best Sniper in the Rebellion. Your job is to get him in and out of hard to reach places, and his job is to keep you safe.

It’s really no surprise that you got close. 

Long nights, alone, with nothing to do but get to know each other. Long conversations about anything and everything. 

You’re not surprised that you fell into bed with him. It was inevitable, really.

You are surprised you developed feelings for him.

And, if you’re a little disappointed that he seems happy with the friends with benefits situationship and doesn’t want more…well, that’s okay too. Your feelings are valid, so long as you don’t make them his problem.

But, all of this is a problem for later. 

Now, you need to try and figure out how to make your ship space faring with no engines and only one wing.

Easy.

Crosshair leans back on the rock he’s sitting on, his gaze locked on his Kitten as she scurries from one side of the ship to the other. Odds are, the ship is a total loss. But it’s better to let her come to that decision.

There’s the sound of a speeder approaching from behind, and Crosshair turns as an Imperial Speeder comes to a stop several yards away. “Kriff.” He stands and turns as three men climb out of the speeder.

“Everything alright here?”

Crosshair folds his arm over his chest as he realizes that these men are vod’e, “We had something of an incident.” He replies as he gestures to the ship.

“So I see.” The man pulls off his helmet. He’s older, clearly, with a full beard. He looks exhausted, and injured. “Names Mayday,” He casts his gaze to the ship, “That your pilot?”

“Yup.” Crosshair winces when he hears a yelp.

“I’m okay!” She calls from the top of the ship, “Just an ice patch.”

“Enough!” Crosshair turns to the ship, “Enough, Kitten. You’re not going to be able to repair the ship. Get down before you kill yourself.” 

She stands on the ledge of the ship, her hands on her hips, “How dare you! I am the mistress of the land, sea, sky, and space! I will make my baby space worthy again!”

“Yeah? Where are you going to pull another wing from? Your ass?”

She scowls at him, “I…am working on it.”

“Spunky.” Mayday murmurs, “Miss,” He calls up, “The temperature is about to drop. We can’t let you stay out here overnight.”

“It’s fine! I can stay on the ship.” She calls.

“Son of a kriffing-” Crosshair steps closer to the ship, “If I have to come up there after you, I will throw you off the ship.”

She pauses, as if considering her options for a moment, and then her shoulders slump, “Fine.” Carefully she climbs down, and hops on the emergency ramp, allowing herself to slide down to the ground. “But, I want you to know that I’m agreeing under protest.”

“Noted.” Crosshair offers her his hands and she takes them, allowing him to hoist her to her feet.

“Pilots are the same all over,” Mayday notes with an amused smile, “Hop in the back. We’ll go back to our base.”

“Come on, Kitten, in you get.”

“But, my tools.”

“I promise that no one here is going to steal your tools.” Crosshair says with a roll of his eyes, “I don’t think there’s anyone to steal your tools.” He ushers her to the speeder and helps her climb into the back. 

“Yeah, but you don’t know that! They were a gift from Queen Organa-!”

“If someone steals them, I will personally replace them. Sit down!”

She huffs and drops into a seat, her arms folded, and Crosshair folds himself next to her. Finally pulling his helmet off and dropping it onto her lap. “Hold this.”

She wraps her arms around his helmet, “Your hair is all messed up. I told you the tail was a bad idea. You should have gone with a knot.”

“Yeah, well, when it grows out enough I will.” Crosshair leans back slightly.

Mayday climbs in the back of the speeder, his gaze locked on Crosshair, “I should have pegged you for a vod.” He notes, “I thought the voice was familiar.” He glances at her, and Crosshair shifts, using his body to shield her a little bit, “You stationed on Alderaan?”

She leans forward, “Senator Organa requested several clones to come to Alderaan,” She says brightly, “Cross, here, often gets stuck on bodyguard duty.”

“Yeah, because the last time you tried to use a blaster you nearly shot your foot off.”

“I don’t recall that.” She sniffs, “Anyway, I often get tasked with transporting medicine to different planets, anti-venoms and the like, so I get my own personal bodyguard.”

Mayday looks concerned, “Do you have anything like that on you right now?”

“Nope. We were on our way back after a delivery.” She smiles at him brightly. 

“Well that’s something.” The speeder starts, and Crosshair nudges her back, “We don’t have a lot of space, so the pair of you are going to have to share.”

“That’s fine. It’s my preference, honestly.” Crosshair says with a shrug, “Not that I don’t trust you, but-”

“But you don’t trust us.” Mayday says with a nod, “I understand.”

The speeder falls silent, and Crosshair’s gaze flickers to the side when his Kitten leans her head against his shoulder, her gaze distant as she trails her fingers over the paint on his helmet. If he has to guess, she’s thinking of what she needs to repair her ship.

He nudges her gently, and her gaze flickers up to his face, and she flashes a small smile before she bumps him back. “I’m okay.”

“Never had any doubt otherwise.” Crosshair replies.

“It won’t be long until we’re back at base,” Mayday says, “You can just relax.”

And true to his word, the Speeder pulls up to the base less than fifteen minutes later.

Mayday leads them to a small room, “Sorry. There’s only one bed, but there’s a cot in the closet.” He says as he opens the door, “If you need anything, don’t be afraid to ask. We don’t have much, but what we do have, it’s yours to share.”

Crosshair frowns, and he glances at his Kitten, judging by the frown on her face, she sees the same thing as him. “Commander,” She says, “I can’t help but notice that there aren’t many people here.” It’s a question disguised as a comment.

“Well, the Empire hasn’t been sending us supplies, and…” Mayday pauses, and laughs bitterly, “We’re the only ones left.”

“I’m sorry.” She says softly.

“Don’t be.” Mayday replies, “It’s hardly your fault.” He glances between the pair, and then turns, “Have a good night.”

And then they’re alone, and Crosshair turns to his kitten, “Shirt off, Kitten. I need to check your injuries.” He says as he pulls his armor off and sets it next to the door.

She frowns at him, but crosses the room to the bed, and pulls her winter gear off, and then she pulls her shirt off. Crosshair hisses when he sees the dark angry bruises crisscrossing her body. 

He walks over to her, and lightly trails a finger down a bruise, “Looks painful.”

“Better bruises than a concussion.” She replies lightly, a small smile on her lips. “Are you okay?”

“Better bruises than a concussion,” Crosshair mimics, a smile crossing his face as well. His hand comes up to cup her cheek, “We’ll be okay. I’m sure we can borrow a ship.”

She frowns, “I’m worried, Cross. The men here will die if we don’t do anything. And Commander Mayday’s injuries-”

“We’ll handle it.” He interrupts as he presses his thumb against her lips, “We always do.”

She presses a light kiss to his thumb and, for a moment, Crosshair melts.

“I was thinking,” He murmurs, “That this might be a good time to talk. We’ve been…avoiding it.”

“I’m listening.”

“About us. About our relationship.”

She tilts her head, “You mean our complicated situationship?” She teases, using the words that other members of the Rebellion use to describe the pair of you.

Crosshair leans in and bumps his forehead against hers, “It’s not that complicated.”

“They disagree.”

Crosshair rolls his eyes, “Of course they do.” He pauses, “And it occurs to me that, maybe, you might be on the same page as them.”

She frowns, “I’m content with how we are, Cross.”

He scans her face, “I don’t doubt it. But you’re not happy with it either.” Tellingly, her gaze flickers to the side. She’s always been shit at lying to him. “You want more.”

“I’ll take whatever you can give me.” She corrects.

“Oh, kitten,” He sighs softly, and traces her lower lip with his thumb, “I…care about you. A lot.”

“I know.”

“You don’t.” She blinks at him, surprised. “I’m used to people not wanting me, be it the Regs…or my own brothers.” There’s something bitter in his voice and she reaches up to stroke his cheek.

“It’s not their fault, Cross. The chips-”

“Hunter swears that their chips were removed.” Crosshair says quietly, “And they still tried to kill me.”

“I…they were lying. Probably. Maybe.”

Crosshair smiles at her, “You’ve always wanted me around. Have I ever told you how much I appreciate it?”

“Well, not in so many words.” She replies, “But I know. You tell me in all of the ways you make sure that I’m safe.”

“I should do better.”

“It’s okay. I don’t mind.”

“You deserve better.” Crosshair corrects himself, and she doesn’t answer him for a moment, something thoughtful on her face.

“Crosshair, where is this going?” She finally asks.

“I want you to be mine. And I want to be yours.” Crosshair says, “No more flirting with other people. No more dates with other men. Just you and me.”

She exhales slowly, “...yeah?”

“Yeah.”

A bright smile crosses her face, “I want that too.”

With that, Crosshair crashes his lips against hers. Sure, they’re still trapped here, for now, but he can’t bring himself to care about that when he finally has her. Really and truly has her, in the way that he’s wanted for months now.

He has faith that she’ll come up with a way to get them off this planet and back to the Rebellion. But, until she does, he’ll just have to entertain himself with her.

[glasskey]

Nick & June's Mix tape Vol. 3

With volume 3 comes the battle for Holly, separation and the unveiling of painful secrets. Season 3 was notoriously poor to our 2 lovers with June becoming seriously twitchy without Nick, Hannah or Holly. Gilead is Hell.

What Are You Good For?

Love in Gilead is less than ideal. One day you’re dreaming about a beautiful beach with your beloved and the next he’s been promoted to Top Boy at the local horror show. Granted he looks great in the suit but Nick doesn’t seem to like the new tie, grabbing at it like the tightening noose that it actually is. Fred was obviously pissed about the baby snatching and his “reward” for Nick was to arrange a promotion complete with a quick trip to the front, undoubtedly to die.

I’ve often said that Nick sometimes DOES listen to his better angels and sometimes he takes the easy way out. Granted it’s difficult he’s stuck between a rock and a hard place, but when June asks him to take the high road, hightailing it with her and Hannah for the border, and he doesn’t, it earns him a brutal verbal slap.

“What are you good for?” she demands and I was instantly reminded of S1 when June confronted him with his lowly aspirations: “Is this it? You’re just gonna polish his car and once in a while get a Handmaid pregnant?” In both of these moments Blaine looks deeply shamed, June has shown him that while she loves him she’s also acutely aware of his shortcomings.

It’s a justified blow to his ego, particularly given his newly acquired power and his reluctance to use it for good. As she demonstrates her willingness to risk so much more for freedom, he’s left feeling like a small and suitably chided man, instead of the patriarchal Gilead’s new Big Commander. “You’ll get killed” June says with a cold finality as he tells her that he’s been sent to the front, confronting him with the reality that his unquestioning loyalty to Gilead will now surely cost him his life. It’s madness.

This is one of the only scenes where Nick and June are not depicted in a glowing light, it’s difficult to ignore that Nick is now almost swallowed by the shadows. Over the last 2 seasons, they’ve become one another’s beacon of joy and hope and there’s a palpable air of desolation and sorrow here, as these two bid each other goodbye, possibly forever. The camera reveals Nick and June divided by a wall, Nick unwilling to leave her, his back literally pinned to the wall by the heavy weight of Gilead.

June opens the door, gently reaches around, sensing him waiting, somehow their hands finding one another and she leads him out of the dark hallway and back into her room. Doors often represent entrances to other worlds and here we see June reach across the divide to return him to her side, once again. The lock snaps shut signalling an almost unheard of privacy. There’s a sense of finality in it too, as though it may be the last time these two see sanctuary for a long time, if ever again. It’s no more than 10 seconds of screen time and yet it encapsulates their relationship so perfectly. Nick constantly waiting in the shadows, bound by duty, and June always reaching across the divide to bring him in from the cold.

Nice Girl Like You in A Place Like This

The DC episode ranks right up there with the Boston Globe episode as one of the most important and insightful for this entire series. In Ep 6 June witnesses for the first time the absolute devastation this dictatorship has unleashed on her countries seat of power. Fittingly Fred has selected new wave DC as the location to construct his own personal piece of propaganda in an attempt to force the Canadians to hand Nicole back. June’s depicted glowering with vast angel wings, a monolith of power and holy vengeance. In the middle of Fred’s little directorial debut, Nick strolls in and June does the trademark jaw drop. Fred wants to know what he’s doing there, after all he had arranged for him to be shipped off to the front after the whole holding him at gun point / baby napping thing. Despite Fred’s best efforts though, it seems that not only does Blaine continue to breath, but he’s also shown up to visit his girlfriend.

Now if you thought Blaine looked good in a suit, wait till you see him draped in long, dark, tailor made, hotness. It’s obvious there’s a new kind of swagger to him and as he steps up next to June he brushes her hand and drops the line “Nice girl like you doing in a place like this?” It’s a line lifted from a Scorsese film of the same name and Blaine’s used it to flirtatiously lighten the intensely grim mood. He knows DC is Hell but he also knows June is anything but a “Nice Girl”, she blushes barely containing a smile and he smirks.

Fred and Serena can’t help but notice it and Fred’s seething with jealousy. There’s a close shot of Serena’s false finger clenching, a sign of the love lost between her and Fred, that contrasts directly against Nick and June’s hand brushing. Exchanges between Fred and Nick reek of power and control. Fred directs Nick to do his bidding, maneuvering him across the stage and verbally leashing him by calling him son, once again reducing him to a subordinate. Fred makes June kneel down for the camera, and Blaine looks away unable to watch. Unbeknownst to Fred, this will be the last time he ever exercises this type of control over Blaine.

This is Your One Chance

Here we got our epic movie moment for the series, It was like Gone with the Wind and Dr Zhivago all rolled up into one big romantic snow globe. June runs out to meet Nick her hair and cape fluttering behind her freely, a stark contrast to the DC handmaids brutally silenced. It demonstrates the freedom she feels he brings her. Nick, however seems to want nothing to do with June’s gamble on the Swiss that involves him laying his neck on the line and entwining himself in yet another Governments manoeuvrings for power. I, for one could hardly blame him; the last time he got involved with politics he ended up in the bottomless pit that is Gilead and he’s been unsuccessfully digging his way out ever since.

Add to this the fact that the last time he tried to help June, a multitude of people risked their lives and most certainly died, and you have one understandably reluctant Commander. But he’s helpless, she forces him to look in her eyes, tears streaming down her face and tells him that it’ll be his one opportunity to truly show his love and fealty for his daughter.

Now while some may doubt that Blaine ever showed up to speak with the Swiss, I can guarantee that this little exchange ensured that he did. The fact is, Blaine is a sucker for the loyalty card and once June played it, it was a done deal. Scenes are cut and included for a reason and as we know, in The Handmaid’s Tale, even the smallest scene is there for a reason. Show runners went to the effort of showing Blaine at the embassy being called to give information; he showed up, albeit reluctantly, and despite the fact that it all went sideways, writers still wanted you to know that. Unfortunately the reality is, he just couldn’t face her after it did all go to shit, and as a result he beat a hasty and somewhat cowardly exit to the front.

He knew the Swiss would soon tell her he’d been part of the Sons of Jacob who’d been integral to the inception of Gilead, something he’d kept hidden from her for some time now, and she’d be suitably mortified. June IS devastated, she looks out on the glowing playroom once filled with happy children that lies noticeably empty and silent. It reflects her isolation and sense of abandonment; perhaps the family she envisioned with Blaine was just a fantasy.

DC was an episode designed to illustrate the total destruction of all of our personal and societal freedoms under Gilead. To properly demonstrate this writers pulled the rip cord on any emotional support June may have previously had, this included breaking her and Serena up and having Nick leave her somewhat high and dry. It was essential to illustrate Nick was manipulated and part of the Gilead machine from the beginning. It was difficult to watch, given his devotion, but from the moment I saw him cloaked from head to foot in black, practically swallowed by his uniform, I knew it was inevitable that at least for now, Gilead pulled the strings.

In our next 2 Nick and June Mix tapes I’ll be covering Season 4, which was somewhat kinder to the Osblaine fans. Back soon.

[oreo-creampie]

In my mind Toji is extra mean to other people around you because he wants you to know you’re the only person who doesn’t piss him off. He’s so big and scary but I think once you’re alone he shows his gentle side..kinda 🥴

YES! I can see toji with huge attachment issues due to his abusive childhood. Once he does open up, trust and settle down with someone he would be scared of someone taking them away.

On one he knows no one could get you the way he does. On the other hand those attachment issues, he is a cold, stand off dick to everyone who so much as looks too long.

If he had the chance to he will stand next to you with his arm around your waist, or shoulders. Or he might have his arms crossed over his large chest, looking down at whoever you’re talking to.

Any women who dares tries to slither in gets roasted. They can’t compare his to baby girl and he won’t have any insecurities and jealousy about him not being loyal interrupt his peace. If he has chosen to settle down Toji is ride or die, makes that so clear.

When he gets home he is poutying, calling you his baby mama regardless if y’all have a child and he won’t get his hands off.

You personal space = Toji’s space. Man becomes your shadows, dripping his body on your’s, always need the reassurance of you being close.

Especially after a nightmare, 10/10 that childhood trauma comes back at night when he tries to sleep. Bringing with it fear and insecurities, he loves how you comfort him.

Get him cuddle fur baby and their his now. Leave him at home and come back to find him in his boxers holding a squishy. Because you weren’t there

[otakusheep15]

Hey, sorry if your requests are full, and don't bother if you don't want to do it. But, I have four autoimmune conditions, and I'm wondering if you can make the Obey Me brothers (and any others you want) react to them. I have arthritis, which, for me, means the cartilage between my joints swells, causing pain, especially when it rains, snows, etc. I also have Ehlers-Danlos syndrome, which is hyper flexibility (that with my arthritis means my joints pop out of place a lot), and I have localized scleroderma which means "hardening of the skin" and anywhere I get hurt has a chance of becoming a scleroderma spot which is where my immune system attacks the muscle underneath it, causing silvery bruised areas that dent in and i scar super easily. I have one big one right over my shoulder blade. And finally I have multi-connective-tissue-disease which means I have symptoms of other autoimmune conditions, the most noticeable one if occasionally my lungs try to fill with fluid (not bad enough that I can't breath, but enough that my lungs feel half the size). I got all of these diagnoses between the ages of 10 and 14. If you want to only do one or two of these, it'll be fine, but I haven't been able to find anything remotely close to this in someone else's posts. I do have a high pain tolerance, so I can still do almost anything others can do (except the monkey bars 🥲), and I walk with a cane on bad days. Stress does make my conditions worse. (Also, Mammon and Levi are my faves, and I like Asmo less.) Thanks a lot if you decide to do this! 😊

Of course, I can absolutely do this! I'm not the most familiar with autoimmune conditions, so a lot of what I mention is coming from google research and outside sources. If anything sounds incorrect, please let me know so I can fix it!

Also, so that this can relate to as many people as possible, I'm going to try and keep the specifics vague. I hope that's alright!

So, first things first: the Devildom is not exactly the most accommodating for you. It's unfortunate but it's true. If you need anything specific, you need to let someone (like Lucifer, Barbatos, or Diavolo) know so that they can better help you during your stay. Otherwise, you'll pretty much be on your own.

The first couple of weeks are a struggle. As you're getting to know everyone, not many of them are willing to help you immediately. As you make pacts and form bonds, they're more willing to understand your condition(s) and help you out, but it takes a while.

Getting around the Devildom is probably your biggest struggle, especially if you use any sort of mobility aid, or if you're less physically capable. Everything was built with demons in mind, and demons are already more advanced than the average human, so you can imagine how someone with your condition(s) might fare.

Luckily, you have all of the Devildom's most powerful demons on your side, and they're more than happy to help you once you've made connections. If there's a long set of stairs you can't get up, Mammon or Beel will absolutely carry you. If you need to take a break and catch your breath, Levi and Belphie will stick with you so you don't feel lonely. If someone is making fun of you or bullying you, Asmo, Lucifer, and Satan are all ready to throw hands on your behalf.

You also (somewhat accidentally) help bring about a lot of change to the Devildom. Diavolo sees how often you struggle to get around, what with all of the demon-centric architecture, and decides that it needs to change, especially if he wants to better relations with humans. He makes a lot of areas more accessible to those with mobility aids, and he also makes sure to place more rest stops (such as benches) around places that didn't previously have many places to rest. He also introduces more education on autoimmunity into RAD so that more demons can know about all the different types of conditions a human can have.

If you're having a bad pain day, your favorite brother is by your side the entire time, tending to your every need. Since the request mentioned Levi and Mammon, I'll use them as examples.

Mammon is lowkey worrying over you if you're having a bad pain day, but he's doing his best. Most of his day is spent grabbing things around the house for you. He brings you water, cooks you food, and finds sources of entertainment for you. If you have any sort of ointments or creams applied to your skin, he's very gentle with you as he helps you. He's also good at massages if you think it'll help you. If you desperately need to go somewhere, he is picking you up and carrying you there himself.

Levi is surprisingly good at taking care of you. He originally wanted to keep you in his room, but he realized his bathtub might not be comfortable to you while you're in pain, so he stays in your room. He brings plenty of snacks and drinks, as well as games and anime to keep you entertained. Most of your time is spent cuddling in bed while watching comfort anime. He does worry about accidentally making your pain worse somehow, but he does his best.

Overall, having any sort of autoimmune condition will definitely be a struggle during your time in the Devildom, but it gets better as you spend time there. You have a great support system of demons ready at your beck and call, all more than willing to take care of you.

[girls-alias]

Sam's Years P3

Title: Sam's Years Part 3

Words: 1,804

Relations: Sam Winchester X reader.

TW: Sexual hinting.

Prompt:

Sam ran into you years later after you left the hunting life.

It had been nearly 11 years since we ran into Sam.

At night, my heart screams at me. It reminds me of the great times we had and the regrets I hold close to my chest. Rory is a young genius, she has dreams of being a doctor and the grades to allow her. She was 12 when she finally figured out Sam was her father. As soon as she figured it out herself I explained it all. She cried for days and I regretted being so honest but she deserves the truth. I often checked on her through the night, finding her hugging the photo of him and me with Dean.

Sam and I were together, perfect for each other. I fell pregnant and couldn't bring myself to tell Sam, I knew as soon as I told him he would quit hunting, he would leave his life behind but just like always I was afraid. I knew I couldn't cope if he had told me he wouldn't leave, that he would leave me so I didn't give him the option. I decided I would do it all on my own, I would let Sam continue hunting while I raised our child, him never knowing.

We had settled in nicely to our new home. We were the perfect neighbours, the perfect addition to the small, family-like village. I always looked for possible monsters, knowing if one were to come around, Sam and Dean might turn up. We were monster-free and a small enough village, out of the way of any main roads. There is no way Sam and Dean could happen upon the town.

Rory's focus stayed on her school work and volunteering at the local doctor's to start understanding the way a doctor works. I am very proud of her and know her intelligence comes from Sam. It breaks and warms my heart at the same time, she seems to be becoming more and more like him every day. I took over the small bakery as ole' man Richards grew ill and couldn't manage it alone.

"Hi, princess," I cheered, the bell above the door grabbing my attention as she walked in, books in hand like usual and Sam's smile.

"Hi, mom. I thought I would come to help clean up so we can go to the movies quicker," She explained a little excitedly as she placed her books on a clean table. I chuckled as I went back to wiping the tables.

"I'm almost done, you okay checking the office is cleared up? Richards is coming in tomorrow so I need to make sure the floors are clear so he doesn't fall again," I explained, she chuckled as she approached. Side hugging me, I kissed the top of her head.

"You don't worry about that, he trips over air," She joked, earning a chuckle from me before she headed to the back.

I popped my head to my music as I played it quietly over the speakers, I continued cleaning tables, putting the chairs up once I was done so it was easier to mop later. The bell jingled behind me showing someone had come in.

"I'm sorry, we're closed," I explained. Flipping my hair back out of my face, before I turned around and saw Sam standing in the doorway. A slight beard graced his cheeks. He looked at me hopefully. I gulped but put a smile on my face. "Hey, I still have some cupcakes one?" I asked, trying to act natural. Maybe this is a coincidence. Maybe he got a flat tyre and happened upon the place. Maybe he is a figment of my imagination. My twisted and degrading imagination.

He said nothing as he slowly approached. My breath hitched as I wondered about a thousand things, does he know? Does he hate me? Did he come here to find us? I gulped as he got closer, I tried acting natural, calm and collected but I've never been able to hide my emotions in my eyes. He stopped arm's length away from me. My smile faltered as he looked heartbroken.

"10 years, 7 months and 4 days." He said simply. I looked at him confused, my mind going blank. "It has been 10 years, 7 months and 4 days since I met our daughters." He went on. My mouth instantly dried. He knows. He's smart I should have figured he knows. I stammered for words, for excuses, for anything. I could deny it, I could tell him I cheated, I could lie through my teeth to anyone but Sam. He licked his lips, the broken-hearted look on his face. I gulped.

"I'm sorry," I sighed, I have to confess. I have to explain everything, I have to find the courage to tell him why I never told him, I have to-

His lips were on mine before another word could escape. He held the back of my neck, his hand on my waist. I was kissing him back before I could even think. My hands found his longer hair, begging to be closer to him. Sam's the last person I have kissed. No kiss could ever heal me after our kiss goodbye. The tears mixed together and my whole body begged me to stay but I didn't and I regret it. Sam seemed to relax into my touch, just like all those years ago when he would melt against my lips, he would smile as he kissed me and he was doing it again.

"Mom?" Rory's voice was confused behind me. I gasped as I pulled away, quickly covering my lips as we looked at her. I opened my mouth to apologise for her witnessing that but she smiled brightly. Her breath quickening. "Dad!" She screamed, running around. I stepped out of her way as Sam opened his arms and she ran into them.

I watched them, tears in my eyes as I quickly realised the injustice I had done to both of them. I kept them both apart because of my fear. Sam seemed to hug her so tightly, that it seemed like he was afraid to let go in case we left again. No more running. He stroked her hair as I watched tears escape his eyes as she softly sobbed into his chest. We're all crying messes. I chuckled as I wiped my eyes. Sam smiled at me before they pulled away from the hug.

"You found us, thank God. We're going to the movies, I already got your ticket and moms buying the popcorn," She explained excitedly, I looked at her confused.

"You planned this?" I asked. Sam smirked as she looked at him. She turned around to face me slowly. She looked happy but guilty.

"I may have put something in the newspapers but I didn't think he'd actually see it so I didn't tell you in case you got your hopes up or made us leave," She explained, wincing slightly like she was afraid I'd be mad. I smiled, shaking my head as I hugged her. She melted into my arms sighing in relief.

"Thank you," I expressed as I kissed the top of her head. I smiled at Sam as he watched but soon joined the hug. The three of us hugged one another happily. Sam kissed my forehead before resting his chin on the top of my head like he used to. My cheeks hurt from smiling so much.

We decided the bakery could wait. I locked up before we all started walking to the movies, Rory excitedly explaining things in her life he wanted her to know. It seemed like she was giving him a full rundown of her life, to the details of when she lost her baby teeth. Sam walked in between Rory and me, after a while he wrapped his arm over my shoulder as we walked. Rory excitedly skipped ahead still explaining her life. The smile on my face never faded.

"I never stopped loving you," He whispered to me. I blushed as I looked up at him.

"I never stopped loving you either," I whispered back. He chuckled happily, pulling me closer to connect our lips. He pulled away with a bright smile. I grinned as I chuckled.

We got to the movies, already acting like a happy family. Rory wanted to sit in the middle, the popcorn in her lap. I often noticed Sam watching me, and I finally found the courage to look at him. His smile grew as we made eye contact. I chuckled softly as I looked back, paying attention to the movie.

Rory had dismissed herself to go to bed, leaving Sam and me alone in the living room where we had all been sitting on the floor looking at our photos over the years. Sam said nothing as he grabbed my ankles with a little stretch and pulled me to him. I giggled as he smirked at me. Instantly connecting our lips. I smiled against his lips as he lay me back, hovering over me slightly. His tongue graced my lips. I opened my mouth, my tongue greeting his in the middle as we made out. His hand roamed my body as he kissed me. I held the back of his hair and his back, keeping his body close to me.

"I'm making up for lost time," He said against my lips. I giggled as his lips moved from my lips to my neck, instantly finding the place that was sensitive. He's remembered after all these years.

"Maybe we should do this in the living room," I hinted, I felt him smirk before he placed a quick kiss on my neck and pulled away to smile at me.

"You're right, our daughter might see us," He commented and I could tell he was excited to say it. I chuckled as he jumped up and offered me his hand. He pulled me to my feet but he bent down pressing his shoulder to my stomach before he stood up straight, picking me up and carrying me on his shoulder. I giggled, feeling weightless in his arms. "Which way?" He whispered as he walked up the stairs to find my room. I covered my mouth as I giggled.

"End of the hall," I explained. He seemed to pick up speed as he made his way to my room.

"Dad?" I looked up to see Rory in her doorway looking at us confused. Sam turned around to face her. "Good night, I'll see you in the morning,"

"Good night, baby," He added chuckling before heading into my room. He dropped me softly onto my bed. "She's clever. She put headphones on," He explained before his lips found mine again. I chuckled as I kissed him back.

My family is perfect and finally complete.

Masterlist

[kelp-dreaming]

Talk Too Much

pairing: Kendall Roy x F!Reader

summary: You have a habit of rambling too much, Kendall finds a way to fix that.

genre: fluff!!!

word count: 1.3k

tags/warnings: swearing, that’s about it this time! 

a/n: based off the song “Talk Too Much” by COIN. Wrote this for a friend, probably not super show accurate since I haven’t watched it yet (i know i know) 

You never really knew when to shut up. You’ve always been a talker; a nervous talker, an excited rambler, an angry babbler, the list could go on. And typically people like the Roy’s did not like being interrupted, but somehow they decided you were alright. At least Kendall, your boss, (not that he ever really acted like it) let it slide. 

You sat fidgeting with your dress, pinching and plucking at all the folds in the fabric. 

“Oh this always happens with this type of fabric,” you pouted, smoothing your manicured nails against your waist. One thing that was always a perk to being forced into these stupid things was that Kendall spared no expense to make sure you looked the part. What part? Who knows at this point. 

Your relationship with Kendall Roy was… unconventional, to say the least. Technically, you were hired as some kind of PR manager when shit hit the fan with him, which seemed to happen every twelve seconds. But that title was quickly forgotten and honestly, you just kind of became a paid personal assistant slash arm candy. Which, to be frank, was a lot more difficult than one would think. 

But here you were, shifting back and forth against the luxurious leather seats and making sure you weren’t going to accidentally flash anyone as you stepped out. 

You continue to ramble, “--It’s just like, why does satin feel so nice, but also makes me feel like I’m a stuffed sausage. It’s really insane to think about the the ways women are–”

“Jesus,” Kendall finally groans, running his hands over his face, he turns and addresses you, “listen, you look great. Please, for the love of God, shut up for like 10 minutes.” 

Heat rises immediately in your cheeks, tinging your nose and tip of your ears with pink. You wring your hands together, rings clicking against each other. Your voice is soft, “I’m sorry.” 

You’re staring down at your knees, one exposed because of the slit that goes up the side of your dress, when you see Kendall’s hand grip your bare knee lightly, giving it a light squeeze. A bolt of electricity flies up your spine, and you do everything in your power to stop your body from breaking out into goosebumps, to no avail.

“Hey,” Kendall presses, trying to get you to look at him, “it’s alright, just– just relax.” 

You blink at him. He’s trying to comfort you. He’s never really been good at it, but the effort is enough to ease some of your nerves. You offer him a soft smile. His hand lingers on your skin, and you swear you can feel his thumb begin to rub small circles against your skin. But before you can know for sure, the car comes to a halt, signaling that you were at your destination. When he removes his hand, you suddenly feel very, very cold. 

“Well,” he sighs, “let’s get this fucking over with.” Looking back at you, he adds, a playful smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth, “If we do this right, we can probably get out of here in an hour.” 

He exits the limo, reaching back inside for your hand, which you eagerly take. You slide across and out of the limo, Kendall taking extra care to stand in front of you as you exit so that no paparazzi can get a “money shot” up your skirt. You smile up at him. 

“When did you become a gentleman?” You challenge, snaking your hand around his elbow. 

Kendall just offers you a small shrug, his face stony. It normally is when he’s around the press, so you’ve learned not to take it too personally. Expertly, Kendall is able to navigate you both through the crowd and into the gala. 

You’re immediately bombarded with loud music and lights. Oh, it’s one of those galas. Your grip on Kendall tightens as you enter the room. He brings his other hand over yours, giving it another reassuring squeeze. 

He leans his lips to your ear, “One hour, I promise.” Before he pries your hand off of him. You don’t mean to, but you pout. You pout. Like a silly fucking school-kid. 

“What am I supposed to do? What if I get lost? What if I get drugged here, Ken? What if you can’t find me and then you leave without–” 

He cuts you off by saying your name, his hands gripping your shoulders. Another round of goosebumps, as if this couldn’t get more embarrassing. 

“You’re fine, go grab a drink, shmooze, or– I dunno, sit in a fucking corner. But I will not leave you. I’ll find you, okay?” 

You bite your lower lip nervously, but after a moment you give him a nod. He releases you and disappears into the crowd. Letting out a shaky breath, and smoothing your clammy hands over your curves, you make your way over to the open bar. 

And that’s where you stay for nearly an hour. Scrolling on your phone, sipping your third Dirty Martini, when you feel a familiar presence. Looking up you see Kendall making his way toward you. He looks… relaxed. A very rare sight to see, especially lately. When he meets you at the bar, you can’t help but flash him a bright smile, relief washing over you. 

“Have you been here this whole time?” Kendall asks, before ordering himself a club soda. 

“Mhm,” you respond sipping at the liquor, suddenly feeling very nervous about drinking around him. 

“You can drink,” he reassured, as if he could hear your thoughts, “I don’t mind.” 

“Are you sure? I can dump it, or–or–” 

Kendall puts his fingers over your lips, silencing you. You’re not quite sure what has gotten into him, he’s rarely as handsy as he’s been all night. Not that you're complaining, you’ve been lost in his deep eyes since day one. 

“You’re doing it again,” Kendall retorts, “You’d think that a drink would–” 

“Three,” You corrected. 

He raises his brows, “well then especially after three drinks, you’d be a bit less…” he gestures at you, “this.” 

You stiffen. “What do you mean?” Your eyes prick with tears. “I-I can go– I’m sorry.” 

“No, no, no,” Kendall rushes to reach for you. He lets out a huff of a laugh, “There’s nothing wrong. You just… you talk a shit ton.” 

“You’ve known this for how long at this point, Ken? I can’t help it, I just don’t know how to tone it down. I know it’s obnoxious, I know it’s annoying and that I’m not being paid to talk your ear off all the time. I just get so pent up. And now I’m rambling again and– God– I just don’t know how to stop it–” 

As you continue to ramble, your hands now in on the conversation as you speak animatedly, Kendall sets down his club soda in a matter-of-fact kind of way, a determined nod as he does so. He turns to you, nodding along with your babbling before placing his warm hands on your cheeks and pulling your mouth to his. 

Eyes wide, you freeze, before your eyes flutter shut and you melt into the kiss. His lips are soft, softer than you’d imagined. There’s a type of reverence to the kiss, as he cradles your face in his hands. It feels like it’s something you both had wanted to do for so long. 

What feels like too soon, he pulls away. His eyes search yours, hands still cupping your now incredibly flushed cheeks. You can see the ways his eyes crinkle with a small smile. 

“Hey,” Kendall finally breaks the silence. 

“Hi,” you breathe out. 

“You okay?” 

You can only respond with a nod. Too shocked to speak, which is a first. 

“If I knew kissing you would shut you up for a fucking second, I would’ve done this more often.” He chuckles, before slinging an arm around your shoulder, pressing a soft kiss on your temple.