#Aires has been on testosterone and hitting the gym

[gummy-sharks666]

Man, it cuts like a dull knife

When you’re young and you’re told

“Makes sense when you’re older”

Darling let’s get old

-

They’re older here, probably mid-twenties, married for a couple years, not having to worry about intergalactic war anymore :,)

[bisexualamy]

Transition Update #63: 7 years on T & hysto retrospective

Hi everyone!! The title says it all. I wanted to include all of my phallo consults in this as well, but a few items are last-minute up in the air, so I'll write a separate post for the phallo consults omnibus.

As always, please don't reblog or screenshot and repost. Links are fine. Writing transition updates over the years has been really good for me and I always hope someone finds them helpful. But at the same time, the larger public is awful about bottom surgeries and I'd rather not subject myself to that ire.

This post has a general content warning for discussions of sex, genitals, body image and body/gender dysphoria.

7 years on T

I stopped doing annual T updates a while ago, because after the first 2-3 years most of the bodily changes are basically the same bodily changes cis men go through as they age. This year I made a point to celebrate 7 years, because that's an absolutely wild number, and I think it's important to acknowledge my T anniversary when it comes around. Testosterone has fundamentally changed my life. I'm pretty sure I wouldn't be here without it. I'm so grateful to be in a place mentally, physically, financially, and temporally that I can continue to access it.

I started taking Finasteride this year bc my hairline is getting a little thin. This is, again, more a factor of being in my later 20s than anything else. I didn't expect it to affect me as much as it did. It was one of the first times I experienced and male body image issue that had nothing to do with being trans. Normally, I'm so grateful to live as a man that most male body image issues don't affect me. I don't care that I'm short or a little round or I have wider hips. I'm so grateful to pass and live full-time as a man that it doesn't register. This one was different, and I'm not quite sure why, but I'm going to try and not obsess over it.

Off and on the last four years, but seriously the last two years, I started working out and lifting. At first, I mostly ran, especially during the height of the lockdown when it was the only safe way to work out. I love running but I always wanted to be strong and see what my body could do. The past two years I've been working with an online trainer and my strength has really improved!! I'm hitting personal bests in the gym and it's stopped feeling like a tedious chore. I'm actually excited to go now. That's an amazing feeling and I'm always really happy when my friends or family call me strong.

Hysto retrospective

It's been 7 months since my hysto back in January. The recovery for that was longer and more difficult than I expected. Being cooped up in the house and feeling really weak and gross, on top of the bottom dysphoria I kept experiencing having to constantly discuss lots of parts I hate having, was really hard on me. I feel like, over the last two months, I've shaken off a lot of the lingering depression from that. All that being said, I've healed very well, and I'm so happy I got my hysto.

One of the worst, dysphoria-inducing nightmares for me was getting pregnant. It was so bad, it prevented me from seriously dating cis men for years. T is not birth control, and even with protection and respectful partners, the fear and anxiety were just too much for me to handle. I knew that once I got my hysto, I'd probably feel more confident dating men, but I didn't realize the extent to which that would be true.

I've felt way more confident to date around and hook up since I got my hysto. I've gone on more dates with cis gay men than I ever have before, and even though they ultimately fizzled out, I have never had that level of dating confidence in my life. It's so, so gender affirming when cis gay men are attracted to me. I always felt like I lost something, being a bisexual man who was too anxious about being trans to participate in any kind of gay male culture in NYC. This is by far the biggest gift my hysto gave me and I'm so happy for it.

[jj-5656]

Wanna Bet? With; Diego Hargreeves

A/N: Alright, it’s a long one folks! Took me just about all day but I was determined to get this one done. Special thanks to @jen8888​ for help with the prompt idea. I hope you all enjoy.

Warnings: Drinking, mild harassment, a LOT of cursing and✨sarcastic✨ Diego (grammar/spelling edits will be made later on) 

“C’mon, I can’t buy the big winner a drink? You had a hell of a fight.” 

“You promised a few drinks, actually. And the winner would have liked to go back to his room in the gym instead of walking two blocks over to this shit bar.”

“I appreciate the enthusiasm Di, truly inspiring.” You mutter out the final word as he opens the pub door, a wave of blurred chatter from it’s patrons and music from the old jukebox flood your senses. Diego doesn’t have the energy to rebuttal, seeing as you’ve had a battle of light-hearted sarcasm the entire walk here. The pair of you receive drunken cheers from a few of the patrons who must have bet on The infamous Kraken for tonight's fight. The brunette offers a curt nod, ushering you toward your regular seats in order to avoid any more attention. 

“Are we celebrating another victory or a loss?” Robin asks hesitantly from behind the counter, knowing by now two of her favorite regulars are here after a fight. 

“Victory.” You give her a smile as she places your beers in front of you, Diego rolling his eyes with a grin as you raise your bottle to meet his in celebration. 

“So, how’s it feel to be a local favorite? I’m here on even the quietest of night and there’s still talk about you, Kraken.” Robin gives a sly smirk to Diego, leaning over the bar as if to hear him better. Something ignites in you as they spark up conversation, and the not so subtle flirting on her part makes you take another swig after a slight scoff. Ignoring Diego’s curious side-eye towards you, a shot is in front of you as the pair is removed from your attention.

“Thought you could use a drink, on me of course.” In another ‘fuck you’ from the universe, there just has to be someone looking to get in your pants for a mere tequila sho-oh. He’s cute, and maybe the universe is not that much of a bitch after all. Not when you can feel Diego’s eyes burning into the handsome stranger as you offer your most charming smile.

“That obvious?” You both chuckle whilst clinking the small glasses together, not hesitating to down the clear liquid that burns some of the edge off.

“So, I kind of convinced my work buddies over there that I’m kick-ass at darts. And don’t get me wrong, I am. But maybe you could play a round or two with me to prove it?” You give him a once over as he speaks, glancing towards said friends who look to the pair of you expectantly. 

“Sure. No promises you’ll win though.” The words leave your mouth before Diego can even think to butt in, and the two of you are walking across the bar before he can even process what that cheese-ball has even said.

“Robin, who the fuck does that guy think he is?” He glares across the room as the woman laughs to herself whilst wiping the counter. Her smile growing when she observes the man angrily tracing the condensation on the rim of the cold bottle.

‘”I’m not sure y/n’s picked up on the fact that I play for the other team Diego. She’s probably a little pissed at me.”

Rob, what are you trying to say? Y/n has nothing against gay people-”

“Christ, Diego. Not that, I mean she’s probably confused our jokes for flirting. Man you’re lucky you’re pretty.” The tanned skin man narrows his eyes at her insult, scoffing before turning toward the couple grabbing the darts off of the board whilst lost in conversation. 

“Fuck you. And you know her and I are just friends. It’s not-we don’t...It’s not like that.”

“Right, so she just up and left to go play darts with some random douchey guy for fun? Let’s not pretend you’re not eyeing her every time she’s not looking Di. You’re practically pining over her every time I see you two.

“But you-”

“But what, I’m right? Besides, she likes you too dumbass. But you just sat here and talked to me for ten minutes while she watched.”

“Alright so, what do I do?”

“Diego, I’m not gonna hold your fucking hand while you write her a valentine. I have customers. You’ve never been one to back down from a fight right?”

“Right.”

“So go for it, knifeboy.”

               ___________________________________________

“Another double! Next round is on you then.” The man you now know as Henry grabs his darts off the board as you roll your eyes.

You prepare to throw, glancing incrudeously as he downs yet another shot with his friends. Looking over at you and muttering something that makes them all laugh. Your eyes focus back onto the board, eager to settle the head to head score and wipe that cocky smirk off his face. Quietly cursing yourself as you only earn an eight. 

“Lemme help.” He’s a bit too close for comfort when he utters the words from behind you, the strong smell of tequila informing you he’s had a bit too much to drink. “You need to square your feet, like this.” Your foot is kicked out into place by his own as his hands meet your hips, scruff tickling your neck when he tries to continue slurring advice into your ear. 

“Alright! Let’s just play the game.” Your face is stern when you spin around out of his grip, obviously uncomfortable with his sudden handsy demeanor. Diego rises from his stool across the bar, and you shoot him a look to signal you're fine, and quite honestly uninterested in his heroics. He grimaces when you do, slowly sitting back in his seat and crossing his arms in defiance.

“Whoa, whoa. Okay, no more helping out the competition then.” Henry snickers as he speaks, no doubt basking in the amusement he’s providing his co-workers. “How about we make it a bit more interesting. I’m pretty sure I can win here and-”

“Wanna bet?” You interrupt his rant with a challenging glare, skin getting hot with annoyance when his grin widens.

“Precisely. If you win, I’ll leave you alone for the rest of the night. Considering Rocky over there has been giving me a death stare this whole time.” His friends chuckle as he speaks, the pair of you glancing over at Diego who shifts in his seat before muttering something to Robin. “And if I win, let’s just say I won’t only be scoring on the board.” He eyes you at the end of his sentence, chest broadening at the ‘oohs’ from the childish group beside you.

Nice guy turned frat boy, why are you not surprised? Men are too predictable for their own good. Despite your now seething anger, you’ve never been one to back down from a challenge. Especially when sexism is at play.

“Fine. But just don’t get your hopes up. I’m assuming your right hand will do the most of the scoring tonight, an I’m not talking about the board either.” There’s another roar of hoots from the men at the table, other patrons giving them annoyed glances as they edge you both on.

                       -----------------------------------------------------

“25! I get a 50 next round and I win!” You cheer triumphantly, turning away from grabbing your darts off the board and bumping right into Henry’s chest. His face mere inches from yours as his hands grasp your waist once more. 

C’mon sweetheart, I know you want to come home with me. Why don’t we call it quits and I can get us a cab back t my apartment-”

“I’m going to win. And when I do, I’m leaving. Alone.” You pull out of his hold once more, side stepping away from him and only getting a few paces before you feel his large hand grasp your shoulder

“Don’t be like that bi-” He can’t even finish his sentence before you fell his hand suddenly leaving you as his body crashes against the wall. Your eyes trailing up his arm to see the sleeve of his jacket pinned against the dart board by a sharp, silvery blade. It’s tip buried into the red dot in the middle of the board and just barely missing the man’s wrist. The loud conversation has halted, and everyone in the bar stares expectantly at the three of you. Just great.

“Bullseye, she wins.” A familiar voice announces. Diego’s eyes are dark and filled with rage, fists clenched in an attempt to contain his anger as he eyes the man in front of him.

“What the fuck dude? Let the chick decide who she goes home wi-” Henry’s words are chocked to a stop once again when Diego’s on top of him in  flash. Forearm digging into his throat to catch the words about to leave his mouth. 

“You better watch your mouth pretty boy. Because next time, I wont miss.” The taller brunette seethes in challenge, Henry straightening up in a pathetic attempt to look more intimidating in his compromised position. 

“C’mon Di, he isn’t worth it.” You interrupt the testosterone battle with a huff, uncomfortable with the amount of eyes on the scene going down.

Diego's eyes move fiercely between you and the man under him, softening a bit when you enter his line of vision. Letting out a patronizing chuckle, he rips the knife from the board and backs away. Turning towards you with yes glimmering mischievously. And because Diego isn’t the least bit threatened by this douchebag, he let’s his guard down. Before you can warn him, Henry’s newly freed fist is in the air and bout to collide into Diego’s cheek. 

Instantly dodging the attempted blow, Diego lands a harsh strike into the blonde’s jaw. A few gasps from the other customers as Henry hits the ground with a thump. You smack your palm against your forehead as a round of cheers come from the men who had watched The Kraken’s fight earlier on, congratulating the man on yet another victory.

“Alright, that’s enough! You guys are out!” Robin forces her way through the groaning crowd as she motions the group of you to the door. Simply raising her finger at the Henry’s friends who are half holding him up from the floor and shouting words of protest. 

“Ah-ah! No talking, now I have to mop your friends blood of the floor because he’s too bitch to respect an uninterested woman’s rejection. Get that asshole out of here, I don’t want to see him or any of you incels again.” She finishes sternly, rolling her eyes as the group shuffles out of the bar. The other patrons have died down now, back to conversing about other things as if nothings happened. 

“We’re so sorry Robin I-”

“Nonsense y/n, it wasn’t your fault. Unfortunately, Conor McGregor here needs to go too.” Robin interrupts with a glare towards a very giddy Diego.

“Wha- Robin! Did you see that shit? I just knocked his ass out cold!” 

“Yeah I saw that shit, and now I have to clean it. You know the rules Diego, no knives and obviously no fighting in my bar! Now go, it’s not like you two wont be here to bother me next weekend anyway.” Albeit a bt pissed, the woman nods you two off with a knowing smile as you exit. “Bob, go get me the mop!”

Her shouts are drowned out when the door shuts and you’re met with the brisk night air. The only thing illuminating the sidewalk of the city being the streetlights above you. You start walking back towards the gym, eager to get to your car and go home. Rolling your eyes when you hear Diego’s footsteps quicken to catch up to you. 

“What, you’re mad at me now?” He teases from beside you, eyebrows furrowing when his elbow jab does nothing in attempt to get you to acknowledge him. You quicken you pace, trying to take deep breathes of the cold air in order to calm you. “Let me try then. Hey Diego, my best friend who enjoys the company of just about nobody but me, who is also really badass and fights crime, thank you for saving my ass back there!” He finishes his teasing when you whip around on your heel to face him. Your eyes wide in bewilderment as he stops short to avoid crashing into you.

“Th-Thank you? You want me to thank you for the shit you pulled back there!” You’re shouting now, and thank god it’s so late so this wouldn’t be the second public scene you two have caused tonight.

“Um...Yes?” He’s a bit offended now, short temper no doubt fired up from your sudden outburst.

“Okay, sure. Thanks Diego for causing a huge fucking scene for a situation I could have handled.”

“If you didn’t notice, that asshole had an iron grip on you. He could have hurt you y/n!” 

“You don’t go throwing knives at people just because they’re handsy Diego. I had the situation under control. I was getting out of there before you had to swoop in with your whole hero act!” The brown eyes looking into yours widen at your words, before turning dark and cold as they had at the bar. 

“Fine, then I guess I’ll let you walk yourself home since your’re so fucking capable!”

“Fine!” 

“Fine!” In true Hargreeves fashion, Diego shouts the last word before storming off in the other direction. You turn around once more, wrapping your arms around yourself in order to keep warm. The quiet of the night is a little creepy, but your apartment building isn’t far from here. 

It’s only been a couple minutes since you two have separated, but somehow the streets feel darker without Diego. If it were a normal night, you’d be pestering him over something while he pretends to get annoyed. And you can;t help but feel a pang of guilt when you picture him walking alone, head down as he rethinks tonight over and over. But your anger is valid right? He spends half the night flirting with Robin, and then decides to get all protective? It’s bullshit, and the constant mixed signals make your head spin and heart ache. It’s you’re fault for falling for him though, and directing all your anger and hurt toward him isn’t fair. On the other hand, did he not constantly send messages that he might be feeling the same way?

Your heart sinks when you pick up on a steady pair of footsteps behind you. Testing the stranger, you walk a bit faster, beginning to panic when they do too. A steady hand grips your mace as you continue walking, knowing your apartment isn’t far and if anything you can knock on Mr. Brown’s door. Recalling a time when he told you if you were ever worried, he’d be ready with his shotgun to ‘kick the shit out of them bastards’. But it’s late, and who knows if he’ll hear you in time. 

A hand on your shoulder rips you from your thoughts. Letting out a yelp, you swing your arm back so it knocks theirs away, giving a swift kick to their groin and sticking out your mace in preparation to spray and sprint. 

A guttural groan escapes the man on the floor, who shoots up a gloved hand to halt any further assault from you. 

J-Jesus Christ it’s me! It’s me y/n!” Diego manages to squeak out between wheezed coughs. 

Your hand smacks against your chest as you let out a sigh of relief. “Fuck Diego, you almost gave me a heart attack!”

“You know, I’d give a shit if I wasn’t worrying whether or not I’m able to have children.” He clutches his groin as he speaks, shooting you a glare when you kneel down beside him, hand over your mouth to stifle your giggles. “Are you seriously laughing right now? I’m pretty sure my dick just shot up into my stomach.” 

“I-I’m so sorry. Why’d you sneak up on me like that!” 

“I didn’t want you to walk home alone. Too dark out. But, I guess the reinforcement weren’t needed, seeing as you’ve just sterilized me.” He lets out a small chuckle when you laugh gets louder.

“I told you I could handle myself.” You offer your hand to pull him up, rolling your eyes when he lets out another dramatic yelp.

“I taught you that block, actually.” 

“Touche. Still up for walking me home?” 

                                  -------------------------------

You’re on the couch now, takeout strewn about over your coffee table as the tv plays quietly in front of you. Avatar plays on the screen, and although Diego always teases you for enjoying a kid’s show so much, he’s fully invested in every episode.

Not now, though. You can feel his eyes on you, and shift uncomfortably before turning your head to look at him.

“What?”

“Nothing. It’s just...I don’t know, forget it.” He shakes his head as he speaks, taking a swig f beer before peering over at you again. In an attempt to ignore it, you try to focus on the tv instead. But he’s still staring, and you can’t help but become increasingly annoyed at his behavior.

“Diego, what is it?” You give him your full attention, shifting so you’re facing his side of the couch. 

“Well, we never really talked about tonight.”

“Am I dreaming, or is Diego Hargreeves trying to have an adult discussion about a confrontation right now?”

“I’m serious y/n. Y-you haven’t been acting like yourself lately?”

“How have I been acting like then?” Your brows furrow defensively, and you straighten up as he replies.

“Like that! Like I’m I don’t know...Pissing you off all the time! I just want to know what a did wrong. And you do that little thing with your nose where you scrunch it up and stuff. And..Well, it’s pretty cute but you always get angr-”

“No! Don’t even say that shit Di. You know why I’ve been pissy lately? Because, you’re always saying stuff like that! And then we both pretend it doesn’t happen!” You stand up as you argue, beginning to pace around the room as if to better explain yourself. 

“Say what?”

“You, you just say stuff that makes my stomach feel like flippy and I don’t know how to handle it.” 

“Flippy?”

“Yeah, and then I have to ignore it because I know you don’t mean it and-”

“Don’t mean it?”

“Would you quit repeating everything I say!”

“Sorry, you’re confusing me!”

“NO, nope . You are the one that’s confusing Diego. I get it, we flirt as a joke or whatever. But it’s not really a joke to me anymore, and I don’t know how to feel about all the shit I’m...Feeling, and I’m so confused all the time! One minute I think you might actually be interested in me and the next I’m beating myself up for ever thinking you would. Because we’re friends, you’re my best friend. I c-can’t be without you and then when all these emotions bottle up I get angry and take it out on you. I Love you! Alright, is that what you wanted to fucking hear?” Your hands fly up to your temples at the end of your spiel, rubbing them in an attempt to figure out whether tonight has all been one big nightmare. The living room grows quite, and you continue to stalk around the room as you await a response. 

“Can you say something lease? Or just like, go if I totally just fucked up our entire friendship.”

“I-you, well...You never told me that.” He stutters out quietly, eyes trained on you as you let out a cynical scoff.

“Yeah, well now it’s out there.”

“You like me! I mean, you totally have a crush on me!” He cheers with a laugh, not seeming to notice your look of pure confusion. 

“Great, thanks for the memo then. You know, you could’ve us let me down easy but hooray y/n just made a complete fool of herself!” You stutter to a stop when you realize he’s standing in front of you. A shit eating grin you so rarely get to see from the typically stoic man adorning his tanned face as he admires you. 

In a pathetic attempt to scrounge up what little dignity you have left, your eyes dart around the room to spark up some sort of conversation. “Oh, they finally made it to the Southern Air Temple...Can we-can we just continue watching and pretend like nothing happened? Because that’s totally cool with me-”

“Can I kiss you?”

“Wh-what?”

“Can I kiss you?” Diego repeats, softer this time as he steps even closer. Hands going around your waist as he looks for a response expectantly. You want to move out of his grip, unaccustomed to the way his warm hands take your skin tingle.

“What’s wrong? Do I make you nervous?” His eyebrows raise as he utters out the challenge, a cocky smirk plastered on his lips when your eyes finally meet his. 

“N-no.” You can feel his breath against your skin, and damn it if that electric shock feeling doesn’t stop shooting from his hands you might just-fuck it.

You collide your lips with his, eager to get that stupid smirk off his face as his stance slightly falters. You’ve caught him off guard, and you’ll be damned if he thinks you’re the only one to get bashful from the other. 

You pull away slowly, biting down on your lip gently and quickly pulling back when he attempts to pull you closer for more. You stay close though, and let out a soft chuckle when he grunts at your teasing. 

“Hey, don’t get arrogant on me now. I had you all flustered just a second ago. I have the upper-hand here.

“Really Hargreeves? Wanna bet?”

[southernrays]

location: Fairvale + Jesup/Atlanta in flashbacks date: The second week of July 2020 + Ray’s entire life availability: closed solo tldr: Ray ponders his love life before-during-after the apocalypse cw for: transphobia, disclosure talks, transitioning, divorce, drugs (mentioned not used) and all of the general heart break affiliated with young love.

000.

Ray fell in love too easily.

It had always been a problem, really, but there was no real fix. Ray loved deeply, easily, and with his whole entire heart. He had done so since he was a kid, and he would probably always do so, apocalypse or not.

001.

His first crush had been on Brittany Walker when he was six years old. That was before he was Ray, before he was even Nate, but a crush was a crush.

Brittany was the most popular girl in their elementary school. Jesup was a small town that only grew smaller the older they got, and Ray was one of ten in his class. Brittany was classically pretty - blonde hair, blue eyes, a big smile, and kind eyes - but Ray knew it was more that that. He didn’t want to be Brittany’s friend, he wanted to be her best friend, and got jealous of everyone else. When the town got a new set of siblings, brother and sister, and Brittany started hanging out with them instead of him, Ray’s father noticed the frowns and sad looks at the dinner table.

“What’s wrong, champ?” David had asked, the nickname sticking from a t-ball championship streak of two years. Ray had pouted over the okra on his plate, and not just because it was slimy.

“Brittany has new friends and likes them better. But I like her more than anyone else on the playground.”

“Is that right now?” David had amusement in his eyes when he tried to keep a straight face, and Ray was old enough to see it. He was deceptively perceptive for his age and already a good people watcher at the bar. David knew that.

“I’m serious Dad. I’d marry her, like you and mom.”

Ray was still just six, though. He didn’t notice the tense of his father’s shoulder, the way he glanced over to make sure that his wife wasn’t in the room. He didn’t notice the frown lines on his face or how unhappy he had been for the last six years. He didn’t know that the divorce papers will be signed before their next Christmas, and it will be spent without Regina Turner. That all of his birthdays and holidays and life events would be without her, forever, very soon.

“That’s a whole lot of like, kiddo.”

“I mean it, Pa.”

“That’s alright champ. You can marry whoever you want to when you get older, alright? I’ll love you no matter what.”

“Alright dad,” little Ray had said with a wrinkle of his nose. “Don’t make it weird.”

David’s laugh had filled the kitchen, and Ray felt better about it all.

002.

Ray didn’t have a type growing up. The people he liked, he liked individually, not because they fit into a mold that checked off imaginary boxes. In high school his eyes turned towards a new girl in town that’s aesthetic screams southern gothic in an unironic way. Hailee wore her eye liner too thick, kept her music too loud, wore too much black and metal, and glared at everyone at Jesup’s only high school like their mere presence bothered her. Ray had no idea, in retrospect, why he was drawn to her, but he was. Ray was finally Nate by then, finally himself in his own skin and his own clothing and no one could take that from him. Not the busybodies of Jesup, not his mother’s stinging palm on his cheek, and not any pastor of a Church he wasn’t apart of, praying to a man he didn’t believe in. 

Ray was unapologetically himself, and maybe he was drawn to someone else like that, too.

Hailee avoided him like the plague, too, at first. She scoffed at his worn levis and dirty cowboy boots. She ignored Ray when the popular crowd stopped by his locker. Ray was popular, too, in spite of his transition and small town gossip. His father owned one of the only bars in town that made him cool, and a source of liquor for unage drinking and parties. Ray didn’t care much for that, but he did appreciate the socialization of it all.

“Hey, Hailee, wait up now,” Ray had called out, almost not recognizing his own voice after his second puberty. 

“What do you want, Nate?” Her eyes had narrowed, pretty and green despite the kohl surrounding them. 

“You to come to Nick’s party this weekend. What do ya say?” Ray rocked back on his heels, nervous of her answer. People in the hallway stopped to look at them, and Ray wondered what they saw. Was it the stubble on his chin, his recent growth spike, and the new squareness of his hips? Or was it the same kid that had been there since pre-school, unable to leave that old, uncomfortable skin behind.

“I’ll think about it.”

“Yeah? You do that, then. I can pick ya up on the bike if you want?” 

Her eyes flashed with something dangerous, then, and Ray knew he had hooked her. What kind of edgy girl could resist showing up to the party on the back of a sick motorcycle?

They find themselves in a closet, of all places, in the middle of the night. Ray tasted tequila on her lips when she slotted their hips together. He pushed back, pinning her against a wall as he slipped his tongue into her mouth. The groan she let out was sweet music to his ears and she melted like putty against his strong frame.

“Worth comin’ out for the party?” Ray asked against her lips. She bit his lip in retaliation before deepening the kiss. Ray’s hands wandered, fingers trailing the skin exposed by the black crop top she had decided to wear tonight. They separate when Ray needed to come up for air, harsh pants filling the small spaces of the closet.

“I didn’t expect it to be so good,” Hailee mumbled against his lips, and Ray can’t help but freeze.

“What? Kissin’ a redneck?” He tried to joke off, desperate for her to make some small town hick joke. Because Hailee was from Indianapolis. She was supposed to be edgy and alternative and beyond all of the small town gossip. She was different from the other people Ray had been taking hayrides with since the days of diapers. 

He expected more out of Hailee - maybe more than he should have, maybe more than what was fair - which is why the disappointment felt so much worse with her.

“No, you know...” A brief pause of hesitation and Ray prayed, dear God for her to say anything but what he thought she was going to say. “Kissing someone like you.”

Ray flinched back like someone had dropped a bucket of ice on him. His eyes sting for a brief second of embarrassment before the rage took over. He takes one deep breath, and then another. Man, testosterone was a potent thing, wasn’t it?

“I... I’ll see ya ‘round Hailey.”

“Wait - Nate - I didn’t ... I wasn’t trying to-”

Ray doesn’t hear the rest. He doesn’t need to.

003.

Dating Xavier was a mistake, plain and simple.

Ray was new to the area. He was finally free of his town, free of the stigma and the knowing looks, and the everything else that came with a town so small it felt like a fishbowl. Here, in Atlanta, he got to start over. He could be Nate from the beginning, without any need to pretend otherwise.

And Nate was a useless bisexual. Always had been.

Xavier was kind of a douchebag. He met Ray at a bar, of course, his band playing on the makeshift stage. Xavier was a drummer. He was so dang pretty, easy on the eyes, and kissed in a dirty, grungy sort of way that had it’s charms. He was nothing like Jesup kids; Xavier was spoiled, wild, a city boy through and through, and Ray craved the simplicity of it all.

Xavier (who went by X) was not a good guy and did drugs (most X) and got crossfaded out of his mind after shows. He stayed up crazy hours, usually high, and wrote all sorts of lyrics for his band. Their relationship, if you could call it that, was very brief and mostly physical.

“You should play guitar, babe, like for real, you know?” Xavier said, waking Ray up at five in the morning to tell him that.

“Why’s that, handsome?” Ray had answered, sleep still clogging his voice as he rolled over. It looked like X hadn’t been to sleep yet, which made sense considering the binge he had been on.

“It’d make you more edgy, right, like, you’d be hotter. Everyone’s hotter if they play guitar.”

“S’that why you’re a drummer?” Ray teased, but the fun nature of it went over Xavier’s head. He leveled a big scowl at Ray, and Ray sighed.

“No need to be mean, Nate.”

“Was just a joke, baby.” Ray opened up the covers of the bed, glancing at the clock again. Xavier’s pupils were so dilated that he couldn’t see his pretty brown eyes. “Come to bed soon?”

“You know I have to finish this song. We hit the road in three weeks for our tour.”

In that three weeks, Ray picked up a guitar and had his first lessons, broke up with Xavier, and never saw the guy again.

He was not more edgy, not in the slightest, but he did have a new guitar and a whole city to explore.

004.

Meeting Luci had been accidental in every way. He had picked up an extra shift at the bar that his manager forgot to write into the schedule, so when he showed up for it there was double staffing and no need for Ray to be there. Instead of spending a Friday night alone, at his apartment, he decided to stay. Ray nursed a couple of beers as the bar filled up and texted his friends to show up early.

The Drunken Crown was a sort of themed bar-slash-pub in Atlanta. It was smaller, which Ray appreciated, and had theme nights on the daily. A lot of the college kids from nearby spent their time there, and the average patron was generally on the younger side. On Fridays and Saturdays their theme rotated, and tonight’s was Historic Night. 

His friends arrived a bit later, dressed in Spartan battle gear. They did a couple rounds of shots before most of them took to the dance floor, leaving Ray laughing as he refused at the bar.

Ray had come dressed in an honest to goodness toga, including a gold spray-painted leaf crown and golden accessories. His time in the gym had definitely paid off as he was finally bulking up and gaining more definition in his shoulders. One or two girls had been orbiting around him, but Ray didn’t make any passes at anyone. He sipped on his beer, watching his coworkers make their rounds, and decided to people watch for the evening.

A group of flappers were tearing up the dance floor. Ray could see his buddy, Blake, drunkenly approaching them and attempting some dance moves that made him look ridiculous. Some guys in three piece suits were making out by the entrance. A group of hippies were eagerly chatting and mingling at the bar. Ray saw at least three girls who looked like some extras in a Nirvana video begging for some kind of song change from whatever was on the speakers.

Luci had been dressed up as an old writer, someone Ray knew the name of but couldn’t remember, not truly and definitely not any more, and kept all to herself in the very corner of the bar. She was sipping on some mixed drink and Ray’s eyes stopped on her. What was her story? The quiet girl, alone at the bar, barely hanging onto the fringes of all of the activity. 

He was intrigued, and he wanted to know.

A simple introduction was given. Ray prodded, trying to get a feel for the quiet girl, who opened up immediately when asked about her costume. Ray was no academic, but he appreciated the passion in her eyes when she spoke about something, voice louder than either one of them expected.

“I’m Nate, by the way. It’s nice to meet you.”

And it was. Luci was his opposite in so many ways. He hadn’t expected to see her again after that night, too shy to ask for her number and unsure if she was interested in giving it. His coworkers had given him hell for chickening out, and Ray just gave them a good-natured smile.

A week and a half later, Luci came in, dressed normally, while Ray was working. He spent the entire night neglecting his duties, trying to get a conversation out of her and working his own natural charm. And she came back the next week, and the week after, too. Soon Ray was brave enough to ask for her number. And she gave it to him.

Being with Luci was different. Their first date, Ray had taken her out of the city to a local dirt track. They went mudding in ATVs and Ray nearly fell off of his trying to impressive her halfway through. Luci’s eyes had been wide the entire time, soaking up the whole thing with a curiosity that Ray came to associate with her. One date turned into two, which turned into a whole series of exploring together. 

They took turns taking each other outside of their comfort zones. Ray taught Luci how to have fun the country way, with mudding and camping, and picnics in the bed of his truck as they watched the sun rise together. Luci surprised Ray with her deep thoughts, her sharp mind, and the push to better himself with her. She didn’t let him keep up his self-deprecation. They would have late night conversations, under the stars, all alone, wrapped up in each other.

She met his friends, his family, incorporated herself in his entire life.

Ray fell head over heels. And he told her so, earnest and eager and open to love. Open to a lifetime of learning and exploring with her. 

And she left him, at the edge of the cliff he was ready to jump off with no parachute, without so much as an explanation. And she took a part of him with her, whether she realized it or not, that never really came back.

005.

There were more. Some before Luci, some after. Each person was different - different backgrounds, ages, race, gender, personalities - but one thing always remained the same. Ray loved too hard, too much, too easily. Ray was open to the idea of commitment, and committed, too easily. 

 It didn’t matter who he was dating, he was the constant, he was the issue, and it hurt to admit.

Ray tried, and he loved, before-during-after the outbreak. And it went like this:

There was Rob, a brewmaster he met while at school. They dated for over a year, before graduation hit; Ray wanted to go to Atlanta and Rob wanted to go to family back in Miami.

“It’s like - you know - I really like you Nate. I like you a lot. But long distance? It never works. It’s better to end it now.”

There was Sage, a wild child trust fund girl that wanted to save the rainforest with Daddy’s money. She laughed when he asked her to be his girlfriend.

“That’s cute, you thought we were dating? It’s not that serious babe.”

There was Fi, a survivor in a camp Ray had stumbled across after leaving the Fort. She was the reason Ray stuck around for three weeks. They had had an awful fight before the camp was overrun, and she hadn’t made it out alive.

“You’re too soft, Ray. I’d chew up your sunshine and spit it out. I don’t want to see you again.”

There was Ronnie, the permanent student with four different bachelor degrees. He cheated on Ray with one of his roommates after six months of dating.

“I was bored, Nate. I’m not ready to just settle down, dude. You’re smothering me.”

There was Destiny, a small town, kindred girl he found in Atlanta not too long after Xavier. She had looked at him in the worst way when Ray had come out to her.

“I’m - I’m not - That’s not what God would want for you, you know?”

There was Jenny, a financial advisor that Ray had met through the bar and mutual friends. She had always been so carefree, maybe too carefree, maybe just too free in general.

“Oh Darlin’, I don’t think so. We’re not exactly endgame, are we?”

It didn’t matter who, when, where they were. Ray wasn’t worth keeping around - that was the universally proven fact. It was one he had to stomach his entire life, and well, it sucked, but Ray was not one to stay down. He washed off the mud, dusted off his boots, and got back up again.

000. +

Ray tried not to play the self pity card. It just wasn’t his style. But with the outbreak, losing his family, and trying to re-invent himself yet again? A relationship was the last thing he wanted or needed. Fairvale was a clean break, it was (mostly) mess free. He could be whoever he wanted or needed. He could start over, again. He could protect himself and his heart.

Love mucked all of that up. It always had.

So when he caught himself - again, Ray, really? - people watching with his eyes settling on one person, he ignored it. When he felt that small flip-flop in his belly at their smile, he pushed it down. When his day would brighten at the familiar face of a kind-of-regular-that-showed up, Ray decided he would not have a crush again, thank you very much, and make things uneven. 

He could not afford to give up his heart any more than he already had. He couldn’t afford to be let down, disregarded, by someone again.

[slowly-writing]

Part of the Family: Part 6

Avengers x Kid!Reader

Part 1   Part 7

Word Count: 2274

a/n: Hey y’all! Here’s part 6! I wanted to let y’all know I have a few pretty important tests this week so I’m not sure how active I’ll be, but I’ll try to still get some stuff out for you guys. Have a great day!

After that day you started hanging out with Peter more at school, you and MJ merging in with him and Ned to form one friend group. You even stayed with Peter and his aunt when the whole team had to go to Sokovia. You had begged them to let you come but they refused. It was too high profile of a mission with too much room for injury. Your parents were still just a little too protective for your liking, so for now you had to watch the news and wait for them to come back.

You shake yourself out of your thoughts as you hear people yelling down the hall.

“Hey! It’s Penis Parker!” Flash yells as Peter walks into school.

You walk up behind him, placing a hand on his shoulder, “hey buddy. Leave him alone, alright?”

You tower over him but Flash doesn’t know how to be intimidated apparently, and he refuses to back down, “why do you hang out with that loser anyway?”

“Because unlike you, he has a personality outside of being a dick. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to be anywhere but here,” you smirk as Flash’s friends laugh and walk back towards MJ.

“Hey, thanks y/n,” Peter says as he and Ned walk over, “I’m trying to keep the whole, uh, internship on the downlow.” You nod, acknowledging that he doesn’t want to say the truth with so many people around.

“I get it. That ship sailed for me a while ago, but you’re a part of the team now. We’ve got each other’s backs. If he keeps bugging you, let me know, yeah?”

Peter nods before walking off to class, you smile after him, he’s kind of turning into the brother you never had. He’s part of the family now, and you always take care of your family.

“You’re a good person, you know that?” MJ asks and you blush.

“It’s uh...the serum. I can’t help it,” you try to brush it off but she grabs your hand looking up at you.

“No it’s not. You and I both know that serum just brings out what’s already inside you. You’re a good person, and that’s all you.” She says and you smile down at her, “now c’mon. Let’s get to class, loser.”

You laugh, “you’re incapable of showing feelings for more than 30 seconds at a time, huh?”

“Shut up, Jr,” she teases and you roll your eyes.

xxxxx

“Thank you for dinner Miss Parker. And thank you again for letting me stay here while my parents are out of town,” you say and Peter’s aunt smiles at you.

“How many times do I have to tell you to call me May? And of course, you’re welcome here anytime, y/n.”

“Thank you, May.”

“So what did you say your parents do?” She asks and you look to Peter who shrugs.

“You can tell her if you want.”

“Tell me what?” She asks and you smile.

“They’re, um…they’re Avengers. Black Widow and Captain America. I kinda am too. They had to leave on a mission. Normally I’d stay in the tower with whoever was left, but this was kind of a whole team sort of situation,” you explain and her eyes get wide.

“Wow, I knew I recognized your last name from somewhere. If it was a whole team thing why aren’t you with them?” she says and you smile.

“Yeah I get that a lot. They’re a bit protective. They don’t like to admit that I can help. I’ve been training with them since I was twelve and I think sometimes they still see me as a little kid,” you say with a laugh.

“That makes sense. I don’t know how I’d handle it if Peter was off doing what you do. That’s very admirable of you,” she says and you and Peter exchange a look.

“Um...yeah. Thank you,” you say softly.

xxxxx

“Come on Parker, one more rep!” You encourage Peter as he finishes his workout. You had come to the tower to use the training room. People looked at you funny when you bench pressed hundreds of pounds at the gym.

“Man, I may have the strength, but you definitely have the stamina y/n.” Peter says and you groan.

“Please don’t start that whole strongest Avenger fight right now. It never ends. My dad and I have been arguing about it since before he was my dad,” you say rolling your eyes. MJ laughs from her spot next to you. She’s sitting criss cross on an empty bench reading a book. You’ve long since stopped trying to get her to participate in your workouts but she always comes to keep you company.

“You were raised around way too much testosterone, y/n,” MJ stays and you roll your eyes.

“Don’t I know it. I swear heightened testosterone levels were a requirement to live here. I don’t know how mom and I survived.”

“By being the smartest people here,” your mom says from the door and you grin.

“Hell yeah we are!” You say, running over to hug her. “How was the mission?”

“The mission went fine. It was a tough one but we made it out, we always do,” she says and you smile at her. “Also, don’t let your dad hear you talk like that, he’ll yell ‘language’ at you,” she jokes and you laugh.

“I know he’s from the 40s but he really needs to get with the times.”

“Who needs to get with the times?” Steve walks through the door and you shake your head.

“Oh great, it’s a family affair. Did you guys need something?” You tease, but really you’re glad that they’re both home safe. You always get a little stressed when they’re gone. Your dad puts a hand over his heart.

“Our little girl is all grown up, she doesn’t need us anymore,” your mom says, wiping fake tears from under her eyes.

“They grow up so fast. It feels like just yesterday she was taking her first steps,” your dad joins in and you can hear Peter and MJ laughing behind you.

“You do realize you didn’t meet me until I was twelve, right? Is the old age finally getting to you dad?” You tease and he laughs.

“Very funny. Anyway, we were coming to tell you guys that we’re all home and dinner's almost ready, unless of course you don’t want food,” your dad goes to leave and both you and Peter jump to stop him.

“No!” You yell in unison cause the other three to laugh.

“We just gotta hit the showers real fast, we’ll be down in a minute!” You say and Peter looks at you.

“Race you!” He yells before taking off toward the locker room.

“You’re going down, Parker!” You yell, running after him.

“Miss Romanoff, I really think all that testosterone is getting to her,” MJ says with a laugh and your mom places a hand on her shoulder.

“You’ve got no idea, kid.”

xxxxxxx

“Hey guys!” Clint walks in to dinner a few minutes late, “I come bearing our newest recruit! She helped us out in Sokovia.” He says as a girl with brown hair and a shy smile step out from behind him.

“Hello, everyone. I didn’t really have time to introduce myself in all the chaos. I’m Wanda,” the girl says, with a thick accent.

“What is this, teenager recruitment week? Can MJ join up, too?” You tease and Clint rolls his eyes.

“We’re not making your girlfriend an Avenger because you think it’d be cute.” Tony says and you blush looking away.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” you grumble and MJ laughs.

“Only cause you won’t ask me out,” she says with a smirk and your jaw drops .

“Wait, what?” You look at her with wide eyes.

“Y/n, flirt later. Introduce yourself now,” your mom cuts in, snapping you out of your stupor.

“Huh? Oh yeah. Hey Wanda, I’m y/n. I’m the resident teenager around here. This is Peter, he’s on the team with us, and this is my friend MJ.”

“Your potential girlfriend if I heard correctly,” Wanda cuts you off and you glare.

“Yeah she’s gonna fit in fine,” you say rolling your eyes as she laughs. “Anyway! Neither of them live here, but they’re here all the time.  Everyone else stays here and they’re all members of the team. My parents Natasha and Steve, and that is Tony and Bruce. You’ve obviously met Clint.”

“That’s a lot of names,” Wanda laughs nervously and you smile.

“Don’t worry, I’ve had years to get this down. You’ll get there. Are you moving in?” You ask and she nods, “cool! Well, how about you join us for dinner and then Peter, MJ, and I can give you the tour. You three are lucky by the way! I only had all the old guys to show me around. They didn’t tell me that you could play video games on the screens in the lab or about the secret passageway to the roof.”

“Secret what now?”

“Nothing, mom!” You say, avoiding eye contact, causing everyone else to laugh.

xxxxx

“Hey, now that there’s more teenagers here can I drop out of school again?” You ask the next morning at breakfast and your dad laughs.

“Nice try, kid” Tony says and you sigh.

“Again?” Wanda asks and you nod.

“I dropped out when I first got here. I didn’t quite have control of my strength and they were trying this whole joint parenting thing. With 5 parents I could pretty much always convince one of them to give me my way. Then they adopted me and dad went on a power trip and put me back in school,” you tease and your dad rolls his eyes.

“Since when is making sure you get an education a power trip?” Steve asks.

“Since I could’ve been training and making sure I was ready for any danger that could arise.”

“Like wrenches?” Your mom teases as she walks in and you groan.

“When are you gonna let that go? I was a little kid!”

“Wrenches?” Wanda asks and you sigh.

“There was an accident in the lab when I first moved in. Long story short, I was helping Tony and he wasn’t paying enough attention leading to me getting hit in the face with a wrench and needing stitches,” you explain and she tries to hide her laugh.

“They won’t let me live it down,” you groan.

“Are you complaining about the wrench again?” Tony asks and you throw your hands in the air.

“Mom brought it up again. It wasn’t me!”

“Sure, y/n. Whatever you say,” he teases and you roll your eyes.

“You know what? I take it back. I don’t want to drop out. I’m going to school to get away from you crazy people!” You yell, grabbing your bag and heading for the door.

“Wait!” Your dad calls, “Wanda is going to start at your school today. Show her around, okay?”

“Yeah sure, welcome to the American education system kid,” you say leading her out the door.

“It surely can’t be as weird as they say it is, can it?” She asks and you laugh.

“It’s worse, there’s videos of my dad for almost every subject. You’ll hate it, let’s go.”

xxxxxx

“So how do you wanna play this?” You ask as you climb off your dirt bike, since you had turned 16 your mom finally let you drive it to school. Luckily she was a little groggy this morning and didn’t have time to put together that you don’t have a spare helmet. It’s not like you really need one anyway, you always give it to MJ when you sneak out to take her on rides.

“What do you mean?” Wanda asks as you lead her into school.

“Do you want to tell people you’re joining the Avengers? Everyone knows about me, but Peter keeps it a secret,” you explain and she nods.

“They’ll all find out eventually, right?” she says and you nod. “Then we can tell them. It’s okay.”

“It’ll hopefully help you get made fun of less,” you say and her eyes get wide, “Don’t worry. Most of them are scared of me. Stick with me and you’ll be good.”

“Hey, Captain Widow!” Somebody yells as you walk in and you nod in their general direction. That had become your sort of unofficial superhero name, but you kind of enjoyed it.

“Who’s the new kid?” Flash says stepping in front of you.

“This is Wanda, she’s joining the Avengers with me,” you say and he smirks.

“New teenager kick, I like it. Can I join?” he asks and you roll your eyes.

“You have to have some actual talent for that one, now, if you don’t mind, I’m pretty sure being in your presence is killing my brain cells,” you say stepping around him.

“Flash bugging you again?” Peter asks as you walk up and you shrug.

“He just wants to seem cool, he doesn’t do a very good job of it though.”

“You can say that again,” Ned says and you laugh.

“Oh, right! Wanda this is Ned, Ned this is Wanda, she just moved into the tower,” you introduce.

“Nice to meet you!” Ned says and Wanda smiles at him.

“Are you coming over today?” you ask MJ softly and before she can respond Peter cuts in.

“When does she not? She’s there more than I am and I’m on the team!”

“Watch it spiderboy,” you say and he raises his hands in surrender.

Tag list: @rvgrsbrns

Series Tag list: @hannahsairwave

[plumblackjeon]

Ares (Pt. 1)

boxer!Jungkook x Reader Genre: Smut/Angst Word Count: 5004 Warnings: 18+ Perverse sex, drug use, minor character death, stripping, prostitution (for now)

Jungkook is from a poor, working-class family. He is the best boxer in their little town. This story explores his life - hardships, love, hate, sex, death, and all the vices life has to offer. 

Just so there’s no confusion, this story is inspired by my own fic from ao3. Also, please let me know what you think - your feedback is really important to me!

A too familiar morning.

He is out before 6 AM and it’s too cold for his denim jacket to keep him warm. He frowns in the cold air, letting out a shaky breath, as his bag keeps sliding off of his shoulder. The sky is really dark today, completely covered by the huge black clouds, which will surely bring rain later during the day.

It’s so quiet, that the only thing he hears is the slight rustling of the leaves, being carried away by the autumn wind. As he nears the gymnasium, he sees a flock of birds flying over the old building. A couple of steps more and he’ll finally feel warm – after he pushes the hard entrance doors. As soon as they close behind him, the loud sounds of the birds disappear – and he doesn’t even know that this is the last time he’ll hear them.

He inhales the all too familiar smell – the smell of an early morning, the smell of rubber mats they train on, the smell of freshly greased training equipment.

 And this is what he lives for.

 His shoes are too tight and worn out, but his mother won’t afford a new pair any time soon.

He is here before the other guys, and his workout doesn’t stop until his entire body is covered in sweat. When he finishes, he still has 20 minutes before the training starts. The lights are still off and the color of the trees is accentuated by the gloomy weather, illuminating the entire hall with a greenish blue light.

 A muffled melody breaks the silence and he searches through his bag to find his phone. The corner of his lips turns upwards before he even opens the message. And there, on the broken display, is a “I wasn’t able to fall asleep when you left...” and a video.

 His footsteps are echoing through the hall as he walks towards the bathroom stalls, holding the phone in his hand and waiting for the video to download. He throws his bag onto the pale blue tiles and enters one of the stalls. The video finally downloads and he presses play.

Jungkook instantly recognizes his silver necklace, hitting him in the chest, as he thrusts at a fast pace – his forearms bulging in the video, as he focuses on holding himself up. Shy whimpers can be heard behind the camera, together with the squeaking bed and ragged breathing. “You like that? Like when I fuck you like that, huh?” He was barely able to finish the sentence, breathing hard in between each word – his voice always stern and rough when he fucks.

He replays the video one more time, precome oozing out of his tip, when he receives another message. He downloads the second video, and plays it after a couple of seconds.

He squeezes his cock over the thick material of his tracksuit, biting into his lip at the feeling and slightly groaning in frustration – he still has about 15 minutes before the training starts – but the smash of the heavy entrance doors closing brings him back to reality and he turns off his phone.

It’s the coach – he always comes here before the other guys, just to set up everything for the training. Jungkook exits the bathroom and walks towards the main hall.

“Did you have a good warm-up,” the coach asks Jungkook, throwing the heavy bags he was carrying onto the rubber mats.

Jungkook looks at him, still breathing hard from his workout and he replies, “not bad.”

That’s the only thing he says – he doesn’t even shrug. There’s no unnecessary body movement when he speaks. His answers are very concise – straight to the point. He doesn’t smile just to make the other person feel more comfortable. He doesn’t ask meaningless questions just for the sake of being polite, like “How have you been? How was your day? I heard you transferred to a new company, how do you like it there?” He doesn’t ask if he’s not genuinely interested – he doesn’t pretend. And he doesn’t understand why other people do that.

His short answer makes the coach feel a little bit uncomfortable, and so he asks another question under pressure, just to break the nerve-racking silence, “How’s everything at home?”

This time, Jungkook actually shrugs, because the situation at home has never been worse, and so he needs a little bit of time to come up with a lie, “fine,” he frowns a bit, his lips curving downwards and he shrugs again, “the usual.”

The coach looks at him, with some suspicion, but decides against prying any further, and so he starts talking about boxing, “so, we’re starting 1 on 1 training tomorrow, and I want you to be here at 5 am. We’re aiming for the finals now, because you’re the only one who can actually do it… But there is absolutely no room for error now.” He looks at Jungkook with a somewhat stern look on his face, hoping that his words affected Jungkook in some way.

Jungkook just nods.

“Jungkook, I hope you realize how serious this is. Not only for the club and your boxing ambitions, but…” he hesitates a bit, but decides to continue “you can finally get that money for your brother.”

“I know,” Jungkook says, nodding a few more times, with a reassuring look in his eyes.  

 Minutes pass by and the other guys start arriving one by one, and when their cheap plastic clock on the right wall shows 7 O’clock, the actual training starts. Sounds of bare feet tapping across the room can be heard throughout the hall, strong masculine bodies hitting the mats – competitive young men and excess testosterone.

Time goes by fast when he’s here and he feels dread when the training is over, because he has to go back home. After he exits the gymnasium, and the hard doors close behind him, another painful day starts.

He walks back home – the wind has started blowing harder than when he first got out of the house this morning – he rubs his hands over his arms, in hopes of heating them up a bit, but the worn out denim just hurts the blisters on the pads of his fingers. Luckily, he has less than ten minutes until he gets home.

He walks through the inner courtyard of the building complex he lives in, which looks more like a park – just a lot of greenery and benches with interlocked buildings creating a sort of concrete maze around it.

The entire neighborhood is old and most of the buildings are in bad condition. They’ve turned grey from all the smog, and almost all the glass on the front doors is broken and covered in graffiti. The buildings were built specifically for the working class, back in the 80s – some of them are square shaped, some L-shaped and there are also five solitaires in the middle, which everyone calls the white angels. Jungkook lives in one of them.

 When he gets home, Taehyung is there, waiting for him in his room – his dad must have let him in. “Why aren’t you answering your phone? I’ve been...” Taehyung motions with his hand, as he struggles to finish the sentence, and he looks almost angry because his mind isn’t working. “I’ve been…” his eyes are half-closed, and he probably doesn’t realize how slow his movements are and how much he is slurring his words.

Jugnkook can already tell what’s going on, so he doesn’t say a word, he just keeps looking at Taehyung, with a stern look on his face – because he’s fed up with this, he’s fed up with Taehyung’s shit. Mostly because he doesn’t know how to deal with this, he can’t get through to him, Taehyung dismisses everything he says and the frustration in Jungkook just keeps building up, because he feels so fucking helpless.

And so he almost yells at Taehyung, after too much time has passed, “you’ve been what?!”

“Calling you the entire morning!” Taehyung finally says, managing to raise up his voice a little – as if he has the right to be pissed – but he’s physically unable to yell.

“I had training,” Jungkook looks at him, anger starting to build up in him even more now, “I’ve had training every morning for the past three years.” His tone is painful for Taehyung. “Are you on heroin again, Taehyung?”

Taehyung frowns, his nose scrunching – his expression full of rage “Fuck you,” he spits out, “I told you I tried that shit once man, ok?!”

There’s an awkward silence, but Jungkook doesn’t give into it, he just keeps staring at Taehyung. So naturally, Taehyung gives in, breaking under the pressure – especially since he’s desperately trying to defend himself.

“I forgot man... I’m just drunk… I didn’t really go home since last night.” He tries to sit on Jungkook’s bed, moving across the room painfully slowly, “anyways, I wanna sell my leather jacket, so, like, I wonder if..” he makes another unnecessary pause, breathing heavily, as if it’s physically hard for him to speak, “if like,” he raises his voice all of a sudden, “any of your guys from the gym are interested.. Soo, that you can... you know…” He looks at Jungkook, thinking that Jungkook understood everything, not realizing how confusing his sentences are.  “So, can you ask them? If they are?”  

Jungkook is sitting on the couch, right across from Taehyung.

“You look like a fucking junkie,” Jungkook almost hisses, with disgust written all over his face, “you can’t even speak.” He waits for a reaction, but it doesn’t come.

“Are you that fucking dumb? Did you really decide to be a heroin addict, who shits and pukes all over himself, because he’s so out of it? Is that it?” He waits again. “Why did you stop boxing? What, you don’t like it anymore? All of a sudden? Taehyung?!”

Taehyung looks so insulted, but at the same time, he can’t do anything about it, because just trying to focus on Jungkook takes so much energy and concentration. He’s trying so hard to keep his body still and not fall down, but he doesn’t realize that his upper body is swaying from left to right, even though he’s sitting down. His breathing is so heavy and it is so painfully loud in the uncomfortable silence Jungkook has left them in.

“You wanna sell your favorite jacket?” Jungkook continues, “that’s your only jacket.” He waits for a response again. “Why do you need the money so bad?”

“Fuck you man.” Taehyung’s reply is filled with so much hate, that Jungkook was actually able to hear the sound of all the spit that has gathered in Taehyung’s mouth, as he was pronouncing that “F”.  Taehyung starts getting up, pulling up his pants, and slowly walking towards the door.

“Every time I come to you for a favor, you act like a fucking woman, nagging and talking shit all the time. When have you turned into this fucking savior, huh? Does it get you off? Huh?” He grabs the door handle, but looks at Jungkook, before he opens the door, “does this make you feel better, because you can’t help your brother?”

Jungkook just stares at him and Taehyung leaves.

The first few seconds, Jungkook actually feels the need to run after Taehyung and smash his skull. But then he suddenly comes to his senses, and he wonders – when has their friendship turned into this shit? Talking like they despise each other, frustration building up on both sides. He hates the way Taehyung talks to him, the way he’s treating him – who the fuck does he think he is?

Then, after he calms down a little, he actually starts thinking about this the right way. Jungkook is disgusted with himself for feeling impatient and inconvenienced – for feeling irritated by Taehyung – when instead, he should be helping Taehyung.

But he doesn’t know how.

 He has to take cold showers, because their electricity was turned off, for not paying the bills. His mom is out again, his dad is prostrated across the table – his brother long forgotten, as he continues to wither in his hospital bed.

******

 Jungkook skips over a puddle, it was raining hard tonight and it’s chilly outside. There’s no one on the street, he only hears his footsteps tapping across the wet concrete, as he heads towards the club. The air is fresh and the street lights are reflecting in the puddles – a scenario that he knows all too well. He’s already drunk, because alcohol is less expensive in the 7/11 than at the strip club, so he always drinks before he goes there.

He pays for sex – not because he has to, far from it, but because it excites him – it heightens the sexual experience

It’s also a subconscious thing – he feels “loved” here, he is every girl’s object of affection – he is everyone’s favorite. They care for him, nurture him, they heal his scars – both inside and out. He loves the delicate touches, how careful and tender girls are with him – after an entire day of being hit, he guesses that’s kind of normal.

But tonight’s a special night, because tonight he actually came here for someone.

 The bass is so loud that it almost hurts your ears, but you’ll get used to it soon. The music in the club is purposefully chosen in order to create a dark and exhilarating mood, which awakens all the beasts of the soul.

You’ve just exited the changing rooms, entering the main floor of the club, and after a minute of looking around the crowd, you recognize the guy from yesterday. At least you think it’s him, because you can only see his back.

But after a couple of seconds he turns around and now you’re sure it’s him, because of the nasty scar starting all the way from his mouth and spreading across his left cheek – in a way, distorting even the corner of his lips a little bit. You’ve heard of this before, supposedly, it’s caused by cutting the person from the corners of his lips, all the way to the ears, leaving a scar in the shape of a smile. But usually, it doesn’t look as severe as his, you’ve never seen a scar like that, and he only has it on one side of his face.

You’re so caught up in your thoughts that you don’t even realize he’s spotted you too, and now he’s walking towards you. You can’t help but smile a little when you see him, because you’re happy that he’s here for you.

He’s also smiling as he comes up to you, towering above you, because he’s so tall. You want to kiss him, but there’s no touching on the main floor, so you beckon him towards the back rooms – that’s what he’s here for, after all.

But his hand finds its way to your hair, his thumb caressing your cheek, as he smiles lovingly. But now dread is written across your face, because you know that your boss is there somewhere and that he’s gonna get so pissed off because Jungkook’s touching you in front of everyone. And sure enough, you can see him right behind Jungkook, walking towards you.

You try to prepare yourself, as you watch him come over, but as soon as he sees Jungkook, his eyes widen and he looks completely surprised – almost in awe. Jungkook looks at him once, but pays no further attention to him, and pulls you a bit closer.

“Jungkook, what a surprise! Would you, maybe, be interested in a private room?” You’ve never heard your boss be that polite to anyone, so you wonder – what is it about Jungkook that’s causing this special treatment?

Jungkook replies, but doesn’t even spare him a glance and just continues examining your face “yeah, we were just heading there.”

You enter the back rooms in silence – you’re already used to it. You both act like you know each other – as if you’re lovers, who have been separated against their will, and now you have reunited after a long time – you don’t say a word, but every move is filled with such intense emotions. You smile at each other, your kisses are desperate and passionate, but also intimate – he kisses your chest, your hands, your shoulders – and that’s unusual in a place like this.  

He pulls out his cellphone from his pocket and puts it on the small table.

He sits down onto the couch and god... his physical appearance is so divine – god-like. His shoulders are broad, but then his torso narrows down towards the waist, giving his silhouette a beautiful shape. The muscles on his arms are very prominent and are nicely accentuated by the black shirt he’s wearing. And then, your favorite part – his thighs are huge, the muscles large and sturdy, even more so because he’s sitting down. His legs are spread apart, inviting you to just sit in his lap.

You straddle him and decide to break the silence, “you came back,” you say.

His fingers are warming up on your thighs, the watch on his wrist ice-cold as it moves up your skirt. You put your hands around his neck and play with the ends of his tar-black hair there. He just nods as he starts breathing heavily.

“How was your day?” He says, cupping your cheek and you’re surprised at how gentle he is.

“Ok.. The usual.”

He pulls you in for a kiss and you start by kissing his bottom lip first – tasting the remaining alcohol – then you playfully lick his top lip a little bit, before he deepens the kiss. He starts squeezing you harder, encouraging you to grind your hips. He starts pushing his hips into you and can feel the outline of his hard cock.

His hand is in your hair again, guiding you in all the ways he wants, as he lowers down onto your neck, licking long stripes with the tip of his tongue. And you can’t believe that just kissing with him feels this good.  

He clashes your lips together, whimpering in frustration, as his thrusts become more desperate.

You press the palms of your hands down to his sturdy chest, touching him everywhere. Seeing the creases on his shirt blows your mind a little bit, because you didn’t realize you were pulling on it so hard. He takes his shirt off – which leaves him only with his silver necklace on – and you’re finally able to feel his beautiful skin.

You start licking into each other’s mouths again, but the sound of his phone ringing snaps you out of it. He stands up with you still in his lap – holding you by your thighs – he puts you down and walks over to the small table where his phone is.

And you realize that this is the first time you’ve seen his back, naked, because you had no idea that he has a tattoo. He has a traditional Japanese tiger, tattooed all over his back. “The tiger,” you think to yourself, “the sign that is feared – the one who represents strength and courage.”

You completely miss the conversation he was having on his phone, and before you know it, he’s back on the couch. He beckons you over and you sit next to him, with his arm wrapped around you.

It’s so weird, because you feel as if this is your living room and he is your husband – he doesn’t rush anything, he doesn’t want to fuck you straightaway – he’s fine with talking and kissing. But tonight you don’t want to talk, so you straddle him again.

He brings his hand to the nape of your neck, pulling you by the hair and tilting your head backwards. His other hand is on your back and so he’s basically pushing you down on his thighs – while you’re still straddling him – as he towers above you. He just looks at you for a couple of seconds and he kisses you hard, pushing his tongue deep into your mouth, letting out a loud exhale through his nose.

When he pulls you up again, you start grinding onto his hard cock, riling him up, his breathing becoming more ragged.

He pushes you off his lap and onto the floor – a loud thump breaking the silence – when your knees hit the wooden floor. His legs are spread apart, naked chest heaving, and you grabs his calves instantly, pulling yourself upwards, in between his legs.

His massive silver watch looks like a kind of restraint on him and you’re not sure why you like it so much – the fact that he’s naked and he’s only got these two pieces of jewelry on him.

He places his hand on the nape of your neck again, pulling you towards him, as he towers above you.  He pulls you towards his face – you flash him a smile and you open your mouth. He spits into your mouth, letting it dribble out slowly and pulls you in for a kiss.

You’re surprised when he pulls you into his lap again – you thought you were gonna suck him off first – but you learned yesterday that he can be a little bit impatient. He pulls out a condom from his pocket, unzips his jeans and takes out his cock without pulling his jeans down – not even a little bit – and you think to yourself that that’s pretty masochistic, because the metal zipper is pressed into his cock.

You hover above it and you slowly push it in. Your lips part as you do so, moaning when you completely sit down on his thighs, with his cock fully inside you.

You instinctively tighten around him and he groans, already feeling himself leaking into the condom. He starts slamming into you, your ass slapping against his thighs, as you hold onto his wide shoulders. You move your hands to the side of his face, caressing his cheeks, his jaw – just touching his face all over. Then down to his shoulders, his ribs, his abs – you can’t believe he’s real.

He slows down and just darts out his tongue, waiting for you to suck on it. You smile again, wrapping your lips around his tongue and pulling it into your mouth. You start kissing again, clenching every time he slams into you. He closes his eyes – can feel them rolling back into his head – as he nears his orgasm.

“Fuck me,” you barely manage to say, but he stops and pushes you down onto the leather couch, turning you around and pushing your face into it.

“Is this what you want?” That’s the only time he speaks, voice so deep from the alcohol and lack of sleep.

 He rubs the head of his cock over your clit, almost making you cum then and there. He pushes his head inside first and he’s balls-deep the next moment. He brings his hands down to your ass, parting your cheeks, as he looks down at his cock moving in and out. Jungkook places his hand on the back of your neck, holding you down, as he slams into you harder and harder.

You come in silence, your body completely paralyzed from how good it feels. And soon after, he comes, too.

After that, it’s like you’re in your room again. He lights up a cigarette, sitting on the couch with just his jeans on.

“I have this dream,” he starts speaking, “from time to time.” You’re right beside him, listening carefully. “Always the same dream,” he puts out his cigarette and pulls you into his lap. “I’m in a room with this woman and she’s feeding me butterfly wings.” He makes a pause. “I know it’s weird, but they taste nice – like the sweetest, most delicious candy you’ve ever tried.” You’re playing with his hair, as he tells you about his dream, and you listen to him carefully – you don’t know if you’re more mesmerized by him or by his dream.  

“But the wings are so thin and so delicate, that, as soon as she touches them, with the pad of her finger, they stick onto it. And I stick my tongue out,” you look him in the eyes, as he grabs your middle finger and brings it to his mouth, “and she puts them on my tongue.” And he sticks out his tongue, licking the pad of your finger. Shivers run down your spine and you think that you’re finally in love.

******

The crowd is so loud he feels like the entire arena is shaking from their chants. He’s never been in a match this big. They have about ten minutes before they go out, he’s jumping around a bit, warming up, before his coach comes up to him with boxing wraps that he has to put on his hands.

He’s not nervous, he was never the type to feel anxious before something so important and he doesn’t even know how lucky he is because of it. He was born like that and he never had to think about how other people struggle because of psychological pressure.

The coach is saying some words of encouragement as he’s wrapping his hands, even though there’s absolutely no need for that and he knows it. Everyone from his gym is there to support him and in a way he feels happy, because they’re starting to look like a proper team, ready to take on the world.

This is as big as it’ll ever get in their small hometown, but he’s already dreaming of the huge spotlights in the Las Vegas arena.

The clock is ticking and he can’t wait to exit the small white room they’re currently in. The coach went back to the locker room to put away the remaining fabric, but he’s taking too long and they’re supposed to exit in a few minutes. Jungkook hears some faint chatter – a female voice – she seems to be speaking with his coach and then the conversation starts getting louder and louder.

Everyone’s looking towards the locker rooms and finally Jungkook’s mother appears, babbling something seemingly inaudible, or maybe his brain is just unable to process it because he’s so surprised that she’s there. His coach is physically trying to stop her from entering the main room – she looks drunk, completely wasted, maybe that’s why – but then the coach continues speaking to her, raising his voice: “Please don’t tell him now! Now is not the time!”

But she doesn’t listen to him, violently trying to push him away. She searches for Jungkook in this little room filled with unfamiliar people, and when her eyes finally meet with his, she looks so angry at him, her look full of hate, “your brother has died!!!” The sound that leaves her mouth could only be described as a screech, it’s a sound he’s never heard coming from his mother.

And with that, he’s being pushed outside as his name is being announced to the hundreds of people. He’s in complete shock and he’s sure it shows, his black eyes are as wide as when he was a little baby, when his huge bambi eyes were so prominent on his small face. The reaction that he’s supposed to have is not coming out – he knows that he’s supposed to cry, that he’s supposed to scream, but he can’t, and he doesn’t understand why.

The loud cheering of the crowd is driving him into complete aggression, because his brain starts perceiving it as a threat. His body is overwhelmed with emotion and he feels as if he’s going into shock, but instead of fainting, he’s becoming aggressive because he feels attacked.

He doesn’t even remember how he got into the ring, the judge has already announced their names and the match has started. He remembers to hold his fists in front of his face, even though he’s not consciously thinking about it.

Receiving a couple of blows to his head kind of clears his mind and makes him focus on his opponent. Jungkook tries to hit him once, but misses badly. At the end of the first round, he manages to land a few punches.

He keeps reminding himself that he has to stay focused, because this is the fight of his life, this is what he’s been working for every morning for ten years – and then he suddenly remembers that his brother is dead and that this match doesn’t mean anything anymore. He’s been preparing three years for this competition specifically, just so that he can win the money for his brother’s treatment. But now what? Why is he in the ring now?

Somehow, the entire second round passes with him thinking about this, and what’s more surprising is that he lands some very successful punches – he’s pretty sure he’s gonna win this round.

He manages to calm down his mind and his performance improves greatly – he actually has a chance of winning this thing.

His opponent starts hitting him viciously, and Jungkook starts getting angry again – he has just realized that he let his brother die – if he doesn’t start acting differently, the same thing might happen to Taehyung too. And this guy keeps hitting him in the face – who the fuck does he think he is?!

Jungkook puts all his strength into the next two punches, sending the guy down onto the floor, but he just can’t stop himself now and so he kicks his opponent in the head as he’s lying on the floor.

The next thing he hears is the painful sound of the whistle and it finally brings him back to reality – he’s disqualified. Probably from participating in any championships or tournaments for a couple of years.

The burning lights of Las Vegas have turned off.

**************************

Please let me know what you think about the story here - your feedback means a lot to me!

[ms-znodgrass]

Fuelled by Hope

WARNING: ENDGAME SPOILERS!

In which Steve comes back after returning the infinity stones, but is soon lost again to the fabrics of space and time...

A/N: there’s been some really fab, inspiring, talented fanfics/au/imagines written about the MCU so I thought I’d contribute and try to help everyone else heal from the pain that was Endgame. (not my gif)

On the day of Tony Stark’s funeral you were not only morning the loss of Iron Man, but Captain America too. Steve Rogers was teleported back in time in the late hours of the afternoon, with one sole mission to return the infinity stones.

He was due back approximately ten seconds later, and you feared this wouldn’t be the case. You knew Steve had seen Peggy on the day you collected the stones, his eyes were foggy and dull from the moment you returned to the Avengers base. It was then that you knew, if he were to survive the war, he would return to that exact moment and live his life and he always wanted to. It was then that you lost faith in him – or more so, how you felt for him.

Still, after ten seconds he hadn’t returned. You began to pace back and forth, your mind numb to the shouts of Bruce and Sam. He wouldn’t come back. Your Steve was going to spend the rest of his days with his Peggy. And he deserved it, he deserved to live a life without sacrifice.

You began to turn, walking towards an empty wooden bench which overlooked the green lake. A perfect place to mourn the death of a life you could’ve spent with Steve Rogers.

“Steve?” You hear a voice mutter. Instantly you turn, faced with Captain America – not a single hair out of place. Your knees almost give way, and your heart lurches so far into your chest you think you might choke on it. All those memories, all those worries… faded. Steve was back from his mission, a mission you never thought would end.

He stumbles down from the metal stage below him, eyes red and skin white. You walk towards him, reaching for his arms as he almost fell onto you. “Steve are you okay?” Bruce chimes again from next to you. Sam appears at his other side, holding his body up.

Steve nods, his eyes finding yours. His cheeks return to their normal colour, pupils dilating as he inhales. “I’m fine,” he smiles, eyes ghosting over each of you. Eventually the blue orbs land on Sam. “I have something for you,” he breathes, handing him a round leather case. Inside was the shield, Cap’s shield, in perfect condition.

“How did you-“

“Long story. But it’s yours now, you deserve it,” he grins breathlessly. Sam eyes him; confused, overwhelmed, shocked, unsure whether Steve was joking.

“I can’t take this from you, I…”

Steve pushes the shield towards him, handing over its history, legacy. Sam’s fingers touch the cold leather, taking it in his grasp as if it is the most precious thing in the world – which to him, it was. You see his eyes glaze over as he takes Steve into his arms and holds him tightly.

After that you decided to give him a chance to speak to Bucky. They hadn’t had the chance to be alone, to talk of all the stories they had yet to share. After all, you had all the time in the world to speak to him, a thought which warmed you.

So you take a seat on the desolate bench, looking out over the water. The sun was just beginning to set, casting an orange glow across the sight before you. You almost forget where you were, or more importantly, who you were.

“Hi,” Steve sighs, sitting beside you. You study his face carefully, his skin was tired and worn, eyes grey and grief-struck. He was every element of a broken man, but was still as handsome as the day you met him.

“You saw her again, didn’t you?” You ask softly, careful not to break him. He lowers his head.

“Yeah. I did,” he breathes. A moment passes, silence broken by the sound of birds chirping in the distance.

“Why didn’t you stay?”

“I couldn’t. The guy that went into the ice… he wanted a family, a marriage, a dance. I’m not that same man, and I think only now, I’m beginning to accept that,” he tells you, as if each word is both hurting him yet healing him, giving him a new leash for life. “Plus, I couldn’t leave you all. Especially you.”

You take your hand in his, sitting in silence. He brings the back of your palm up to his lips, and kisses your skin ever so lightly. Your best friend, your closest companion, had made another sacrifice – his happiness for yours.  

“You shouldn’t have to give everything up, not again. You had a chance to-“

“I didn’t want to go back. The Avengers are my family now, I’m happy here. As happy as I can be.”

You place your head on his shoulder, “what do we do now?”

“We learn to live again,” he sighs his head falling onto yours, “as Tony wanted us to.”

The wind suddenly feels cool, even with the heat of Steve’s body against yours. You stand, “I’m gonna grab us a blanket, I’ll be back.”

You stand between his legs, kissing his forehead. You hold his cheeks in your hands, holding your tears back. “Thank you,” you whisper.

You rush back to your car, grabbing the blanket you kept in your backseat, and return to Steve. Using your superspeed, your there and back in less than a few seconds.

But when you return, Steve isn’t there. Impossible. You shout over to Bruce, who is disambling the equipment. “Hey Bruce, where did Steve go?”

He looks over to you, shrugging. “Hhe was with you? Was he not?”

“He was… a second ago. Have you checked the background radiation levels? Perhaps the frequency of the air particles?” You tell him, running over to his location. He looks at you, a sudden fear spreading across his face.

“Oh god.”

  Autumn was slowly dying, the trees bare, ground dusted with orange and brown crisp leaves. It had been a few months since the funeral, yet you were returning to the Stark’s country home to celebrate Thanksgiving. You often hadn’t cared for Thanksgiving, but knowing you and a few other Avengers were requested to join Pepper and Morgan for a feast, well, you couldn’t refuse.

You were driving through the country roads with Bucky and Sam, all silently admiring the sad beauty of the woodlands. Unlike a few others, you had decided to stay at the Avengers headquarters, which now was almost a cold tribute to what you had lost. Still, it allowed you to continue your research on the limitations of space and time, or more specifically, time-travel.

Sam would train often, trying desperately to shadow the moves of the former Captain America, readying himself for the day that post-war peace would become an old memory. Bucky would flitter in and out of the HQ, but always seemed to return home. Bruce on the other hand was continuing his research with Dr Pym. You often met with them to see if there were any breakthroughs on Steve’s whereabouts.

There were none.

You were lost in thought when Sam announced that you had arrived. Upon exiting the car, Morgan rushes towards you with wide arms. “Hi little one,” you smile, picking her up and spinning her around. She squeals with excitement, her arms wrapping around your neck. “You’ve grown!”

“Soon I’ll be as tall as you,” she giggles as you carry her towards the door. Pepper emerges then, a small smile gracing her features. You put Morgan down, allowing her to tackle Bucky’s metal arm.

“Hi,” you greet, hugging her tightly. She embraces you openly. “It smells brilliant in here,” you tell her, inhaling some of the sweet scents drifting through the doorway. She rolls her eyes.

“I wish I could say it was all me, but we’ve had some help,” she laughs, leading you inside.

“So your research into mechanics is going pretty well,” you grin, eyes catching the table adorned with pies, potatoes, carrots, and the biggest turkey you’ve ever seen. She sighs.

“Aside from the kitchen fire, I’d say Tony would be proud,” she nudges you, hands on her hips.

“You really think Tony’s expectations were set so high?” She laughs then, and you fear that the sound of her laughter was a rarity in this house.

“Bruce, Wanda and Thor are all in the kitchen,” she tells you, “help yourself to a drink.”

You find the others in deep conversation. All of them seem happier, as if they’ve accepted what has happened and learned to embrace it. After all, they did save the world.

“Thor! Is that you?” You chime, eyeing his much slimmer figure. He steps towards you and squeezes you.

“Ah, young Y/N, it is good to see you again.”

“You too,” you chuckle, “though if you squeeze me any tighter, it could be the end of me.” He lets you go, hand patting your head. “Been hitting the gym?” You ask.

“Yes well, my travels with the Asguardians of the Galaxy proved to be slightly more strenuous than I first thought,” he smiles, with a sweet promise to explain all after you eat. You then speak with Bruce, catching up briefly. After all, you had only seen each other a week ago when he thought he’d found a breakthrough in forbidden quantum physics.

“Wanda, how are you?”

“I’ve been good. I’ve actually decided that it might be wise to return home to you all,” she sighs. You embrace her.

“Please, it’s been long overdue. Besides, the testosterone is choking me,” you joke.

“Dinner’s ready!” Pepper chimes, and you take Wanda’s arm, both walking through to the dining room.

The meal is wonderful, the room fills with laughter and joy. Happy sits at the end of the table, and looks really… happy. He and Rhodey begin telling tales of Tony, almost reminding you all that he wasn’t there. Almost.

Then it’s Bucky’s turn, he and Sam start bouncing back with stories of Steve and Natasha. Yet you, Wanda, Bruce and Pepper can’t seem to think of anything to say, instead enjoying the stories circulating around the room – some you’d never heard before.

“Did daddy really say that to the Queen of England?” Morgan asks mid-laughter, her eyes brimming with tears. Pepper nods, in stitches herself.

“That’s why he never went back,” Rhodey chuckles, winking at Morgan. Bruce excuses himself from the table, answering a phone call and you decide it’s a good time to help Pepper with the dishes.

“Allow me, honestly Pepper, it’s what I’m built for,” you smile. Using your super speed, you run into the kitchen, cleaning and drying the dishes before Pepper can even protest.

“I don’t know why I try to object,” she sighs, as you hand her a glass of red wine.

“Now sit, and put your feet up!”

The others make their way over to the couches, each close to sleeping their meal off. You’re about to join them, when Bruce appears behind you.

“Y/N, a word?” He asks. You follow him through to the other room.

“What’s up?” You ask, leaning against the wall. He looks at you, silent for a moment. “Bruce, you okay?” You ask, sitting him down on the stairs. He takes a deep breath.

“There’s been a large burst of energy radiating from the forest,” he starts, “in the same location where we lost Steve, the exact coordinates.” You’re about to leave but he touches your arm, “we don’t know what it is, Dr Pym is on his way, I’ll go get the others so just hold on for one second-“

“You’re telling me Steve might be in the woods, possibly injured, and I need to wait for Dr Pym? Bruce, I have to go. I’ll meet you there.”

It’s darker out, the woods casting large shadows across the woodland floor. Still, you would be able to navigate yourself in pitch black. You knew these coordinates off by heart. You had often visited the clearing, whether to conduct some studies or to just think. You knew this location like the back of your hand. And for once you weren’t running from anger or frustration, you were fuelled by hope.

You appear at the bench, frantically searching the area for any sign of Steve. Yet, there was none. You could feel the energy lurking in the air, but as far as you were concerned, that was useless. You sit on the bench, awaiting Bruce’s arrival, only to report nothing. A small part of you was hopeful. But that wasn’t enough to ride on.

Another empty dream. You face the clearing, a stray tear escaping yet again. You mentally reprimand yourself, you’d promised not to cry. Not today. And yet here you were, sobbing. It was almost as if you could still feel Steve’s presence, though it was all in your head.

“Y/N?”

It was all in your head.

“Y/N?”

You stand the second time you hear your name. The voice was too realistic, it was messing with your mind. He wasn’t In front of you. He wasn’t here.

A hand on your shoulder pulls you from your thoughts, and you turn to relay the news back to Bruce. Except you’re faced with a pair of blue eyes, instead of green.

“Steve?”

“Hey,” he smiles, his legs buckling from below him. You catch him before he falls, placing him delicately on the floor. You prop his head into your lap, cradling his features. You softly run your fingers through his hair, as he blinks up at you.

“Bruce will be here soon, they’ll be able to look after you just stay awake, okay?” You tell him, brushing the stray hair from his face. He catches your hand in his, bringing your fingers to his lips. He kisses your knuckles delicately, the corners of his mouth picking up.

“I’m fine,” he says, as his eyelids close slowly. You consider leaving him for just a split second, perhaps to bring Bruce to you. But the sound of footsteps tells you to be patient. Be patient.

You kiss his forehead, continuing to comb through his blonde locks as you await for your remaining Avengers to assemble.

Part 2??

I take requests! Preferable MCU atm to fill the hole in my bleeding heart. 

[notyetneedcoffee]

Not Exactly a Classic Dame (3)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x OFC (platonic friendship between Steve x OFC)

Warnings: Language, otherwise none this Chapter, but later

  Bucky Master List / Main Master List

CHAPTER 3  

“Hey, I brought you something.” Steve handed Bucky a stack of books as he walked into the apartment. “These are really good.” 

“Thanks.” Bucky shut the door behind him. “You want some coffee or anything before we go.” 

“No, I’m good.” Steve looked around at the now furnished room. It still lacked personal touches and decoration, but he liked what was there. He sat on the sofa, running his hand along the armrest. “This is nice.” 

“Yeah. It’s comfortable.” Bucky sat down to tie his running shoes.  

“Cas said she had a really great time when you took her for a ride.” Steve watched his friend. 

Bucky didn’t answer, didn’t even look up. 

“She likes your company, but it looks to me like you’re avoiding her.” 

No response. 

“So,” Steve crossed his arms and stared at the back of his best friend’s head. “Does she rub you the wrong way or are you just being a jerk?” 

Bucky whipped around, scowling. “Listen, if your girl. . .” 

“MY girl?” 

“Yeah,” Bucky shot to his feet, anger instantly flaring to the surface. “I’m trying to be respectful, okay? She’s -” He stopped himself. What? A flirt? Sweet? Sexy as hell? He finally growled, “Yours.” 

Bucky’s eye grew wide in confusion when Steve burst out laughing.  

“Oh, Buck.” He shook he head, still chuckling at the incredulous look on the other man’s face. “We’re not an item. Never have been. Cas is a sweetheart, and I adore her, but we’re not a couple.” 

A wave of confusion hit Bucky in the gut, making him even more angry. “But the way you two carry on? What the fuck? I’ve seen her hug and kiss on you. Eat off your plate without asking. There’s a picture of the two of you at some fancy shin-dig in your office. Steve, you gave her something you drew! What the else was I supposed to think?” 

“Okay, yeah.” Steve stood to face him. “We’re close and, I’ll admit, pretty affectionate. But it’s just gotten to be natural. Honestly, Buck, it’s completely innocent. We’re just close friends.” 

Not knowing what to say, Bucky just stared at the floor in front of Steve’s feet. He wasn’t about to apologize for barking. Steve laughed at him. The few interactions between himself and Cassidy came back in rapid fire memories. Sure, it made him feel good. Made him feel like sweeping her up in his arms and tasting those red lips. What if she was just, as Steve put it, being affectionate? He had no desire to be the fool. When he was younger, he may not have cared. He wasn’t the same man anymore. 

The silence stretched out and Steve watched the emotions play out on his friend’s face. He looked stoic, but the clench of his jaw, the small change in his eyes as he stared into nothing, gave him away. 

“I knew you would like her the minute I met her.” Steve sighed. “Even before I knew you were still alive.  I would sit there thinking, ‘Bucky would just be smitten with her’.” 

“You should’ve said something.”   

“I should have said something.” Steve agreed. “I didn’t think.” 

“She probably thinks I’m a jerk now.”  

“You are a jerk.” 

“Shut up, punk.” 

Steve grabbed Bucky by the shoulder, giving him a shake. “Come on. Let’s go for a run. After, maybe we’ll see if Cas is up for lunch.” 

“You sure you don’t what to go to the gym instead?” Bucky smirked. “Give me the chance to beat your ass for a while?” 

o o o o o  

Cassidy stood at her work station, bare foot and swaying in place to the soulful jazz music crooning from her speakers. Her mood danced on the edge of melancholy today. She indulged in an extra cappuccino and splurged on a chocolate pastry. Despite wearing her favorite outfit and doing her hair in her favorite style, she just didn’t feel herself. 

“Hey Cas, how ya doing?’ Steve’s voice came from the door.  

She didn’t turn away from the screen. Answering, voice flat. “Peachy.” 

“That didn’t sound convincing.” Bucky scoffed.  

Cas turned around somewhat surprised. “It’s about as good as it gets at the moment. Sorry.” 

“Would lunch in town help?” Steve smiled.  

“Maybe play hooky for a while.” Bucky added. 

She looked between the two, relenting to their grins. “Okay. Okay, fine. Give me a minute to send a couple emails. But I’m taking my car in case I want to bail on you two goofs. I don’t know how much I testosterone I can take.” 

As Cassidy drove a two-seat sports coupe, this left the guys in a quandary. Bucky decided to just follow on his bike and Steve rode in her car. They settled on a pool hall that served good barbecue not too far away. The establishment knew most of the Avengers so they wouldn’t be gawked at.  

Steve insisted on ordering, so Cas and Bucky picked one of the many empty tables. He rested his elbows on the table and leaned over the top toward her, aware they had a brief moment alone. “I feel like I should apologize.” 

Cas mirrored his pose, finding herself drawn in by his expressive blue eyes. “Oh?” 

“I’ve been a bit of a jerk, even if I had good intentions.” He nodded.  

“Suddenly giving me the cold shoulder has good intentions?”  

Bucky sighed. Of course she would call him on his bullshit without hesitation. He shot a sideways glance at Steve who was putting his wallet away and waiting for the pitcher of beer. “You’ll laugh at me.” 

“Try me.” 

“I was staying away because I thought you and Steve were together.” He said quietly, leaving how much he liked her implied.  

“He didn’t set you straight?” Her back went stiff. 

“Today he did.” 

She blew a little angry huff out her nose. When Steve sat down next to her with a pitcher of beer and a stack of glasses, she turned on him. “You can be a real asshole.” 

“What?!” 

“You are the first one to wave the great big ‘we’re just friends’ flag anytime anyone looks at the two of us even remotely sideways.” Cas poked him in the chest. 

“Well, I don’t want people to get the wrong idea.” Steve admitted sheepishly. 

“And yet you hung your best friend out to dry, you moron.” She poked him again, scowling. “Just go ahead a wait until things get all dramatic and awkward before you say anything.” Poke. “To who?” Poke. “Oh yeah, your best friend. Because that make perfect sense.” She threw her hands in the air. “Way to make everyone feel comfortable, Steve.” 

Bucky knew she was laying it on thick on purpose, being a little melodramatic to make a point. She looked adorable. He chewed his lip to hide his smile. Steve pouted, making it even funnier. “Give him a break, Doll. You’re going to make him cry.” 

Steve’s head fell to the side with a ‘really?’ look. Cas giggled.  

“Okay.” She began to pour the beers. “Here’s to clearing the air.” 

Happily, they clinked glasses and drank. By the time the assortment of ribs and brisket arrived, they were all feeling better and lively stories of how Cassidy helped Steve adjust to ‘modern times’ had Bucky laughing. He too had a lot to learn, but Cas took immense joy in the easily shocked Captain. 

“You should have seen him when I took him with me to get my tattoo finished.” Cas smiled into her beer glass.  

Bucky cocked an eyebrow at Steve. “You’ve been to a tattoo parlor before.” 

Steve looked horrified. “Buck, they do piercings. Everywhere. On private parts. Men and women.” 

“Huh?” 

“Not just their ears and lips and noses.” Steve refilled his glass, trying to keep from blushing as he recalled the graphic photo album Cas showed him. “They get their nipples and parts ‘down there’ pierced too.” 

Bucky’s eyes narrowed, trying to imagine. He turned to Cas, “Do you-” 

“Oh, hell no. I don’t go in for piercings.” She shook her head. “I’ve got plenty of ink, though. Every tattoo I have is for a reason, they’re are personal.” 

Cas showed him the inside of her right bicep. There a little black tattoo said 'stay strong'. “This one I got after my mom died of cancer. It’s in her handwriting. There’s a breaching whale on my right leg. I got it after a rough recovery when I was in my early twenties. Then there’s this,” She lifted the left sleeve of her blouse. The thick arrangement of old-fashioned flowers reminded Bucky of the ones on cards he’d see in the old days. Violets, pink peonies, red roses, blue irises, sat among detailed green leaves.  

“It goes all the way up my arm and part way down my back.” She lightly ran her fingers over the skin. “I know its dense, but it covers all the scars.” 

Bucky went from quietly studying the details, to staring at her blank face. His mouth opened, but the question didn’t emerge. The glassiness of her eyes stalling him. Steve’s hand covered the fingers of Cassidy’s hand. Her eye shifted to his hand and she blinked. 

Steve’s frown deepened. He squeezed her fingers. “It’s okay. We don’t have to-” 

Cas shook her head and rocked it all the way through her shoulders, like a small mimic of a dog shaking off water. “No. Nope. It’s okay.” She looked a Bucky and chewed her lower lip for a second. “When the invasion hit New York, I was there for a software conference. The building was hit and a big section collapsed. On all of us. Most died. It took twenty-six hours to dig me out. I was pinned. My arm was broken in four places. Collar bone crushed. I had to have my shoulder complete rebuilt. My back was a mess of imbedded concrete. But,” She finished half her beer in one go. “It could have been worse.” 

Bucky nodded slowly. Their eyes locked and he wished he knew the words to convey his understanding, his admiration. He wished he could tell her he understood her pain. Somehow, she must have seen something because he watched life light up her eyes again, just a little. A small smile touched his lips, “Well the tattoo is beautiful.” 

“Thanks.”  

“What do you say we shoot some pool?” Steve got up and kissed the side of her head. “I’ll go set up.” 

“You okay?” Bucky replaced Steve’s hand over hers.  

“Yeah,” She turned her palm over and entwined her fingers with his. “Most of the time it just hangs out in the back of my brain, you know? Sometimes it rears up its ugly head.” 

“A smell or sound.” He looked at her tiny hand in his own and nodded. “It doesn’t even make sense sometimes.” 

She glanced at Steve, who was bent over the digital juke box in the corner. Cas didn’t know if he was purposely giving them a moment or not, but she felt thankful either way. “It wasn’t even the pain, or injuries, or surgeries. It was being trapped. It was being completely utterly powerless. I screamed and screamed, and nothing. My world literally fell in around me. My world became fear and silence and darkness. . .  and it was like I suddenly ceased to exist.” 

Holy shit, he wanted to hold her. 

“I am so in awe of your strength. I cannot imagine how strong you are to survive what you have.” Cas whispered, staring at his thumb rubbing over her fingers. 

Bucky’s eye snapped up, but she stared at their hands. “You’re pretty damn strong too, you know.” 

A sideways smile slid across her face. “I fake it well.” 

“You’ll have to teach me that, sometime.” Bucky returned the look. 

Tony Bennett began playing across the speakers just as a loud crack echoed through the bar. Steve leaned across the table, lining up another shot. Another ball dropped into the side pocket. 

“Which of you are taking solids? If you actually get a turn.” 

 TAGS

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[wykart]

Haunting Five

Alas, I have descended from the realm of copious fanart to full-blown fan fiction. I can’t get enough of these characters so it’s time to create my own content I guess. 

Five killed alot of people, probably more than Hazel and Cha Cha given how well-renowned he is within the commission, Klaus would definitely have something to say about this. 

Summary: Ever since Klaus made the (regrettable) decision to stay sober, the ghosts that he's successfully kept at bay since childhood have been coming back in a big way. Those who die violently and unexpectedly often harbour resentment towards those who killed them, and what could be more violent and unexpected than meeting your end to an elite time-travelling assassin like Number Five. Needless to say, Five has a whole undead entourage following him around, and Klaus is finding it difficult to cope.

read here on ao3 or under the cut

Sobriety was overrated, and not just because his head was always pounding and the world felt harsh and cold, but because the ghosts were clawing their way back into his mind, more and more all the time. He hadn’t seen so many since those nights in the mausoleum. It was as if he was more visible now, without the drugs to muddle his mind, they flocked to him, desperate to use him as a middle man to get back at the world, desperate to find someone that could hear their voices. He couldn’t blame them. Maybe he could even come to welcome them if they’d think about shutting the hell up every once in a while.

Whenever Five came into the room, Klaus left. At first, everyone assumed it was simply because Five was a self absorbed asshole, which he was, but Klaus had grown used to self absorbed assholes after growing up at the academy, and he’d developed an immunity. He tried his best to be subtle about it, though he didn’t really need to be, his siblings barely seemed to notice when he left the room, all too wrapped up in their own thoughts. That, or they just assumed Klaus was just being Klaus, a man with the attention span of a hyperactive toddler who was always waltzing in and out of their lives whenever he needed something from them. Usually cash.

As the days went by, the figures that gathered around Five became clearer, amassing like a congregation in the pews. It always seemed to be those who died violently and unexpectedly that were the loudest. Everyone that Five had ever killed had died this way, usually simply because the commission decided that they were a liability to the continuation of time and space. Needless to say, they were pissed.

Time came when Klaus couldn’t bare to be around Five for more than a few minutes, let alone pay attention to whatever he was saying - usually something condescending or insulting, or both. He would find a way to casually slip out of the conversation without drawing too much attention to himself. Then, he’d go and stand in the hallway propped up against a wall with his eyes squeezed shut and his hands over his ears, fighting the urge to wander down to the darker parts of town for something to ease his pain. That’s exactly the position in which he found himself after Five had barged in on another of Diego and Luther’s arguments (which Klaus had been spectating like a football match), sipping a martini and telling everyone to stop being so childish. There was still something incredibly uncanny about seeing a thirteen year old school boy day drinking while glaring at them all like there was drool dripping from their mouths. Although they’d stopped throwing punches, Luther and Diego were staring one another down from opposite ends of the living room, pacing and surveying one another like wild animals. Five sat down beside Klaus, tutting and shaking his head.

“You know, I think they’ve actually regressed since they were thirteen, I didn’t think that was possible but,” he took another sip and cleared his throat, “here we are.” He turned to Klaus, who was already feeling uncomfortable as the ghosts began to converge on him, muttering. “What are they arguing about this time anyway?”

“I have no idea,” he answered, “and in a way that makes it more entertaining, I can pretend it’s about who ate the last cookie instead of all those serious adult things we’re all yelling about nowadays.”

Five nodded thoughtfully, going to take another swig of his drink. Klaus raised his hand to stop him from putting the glass to his lips. “You know, you should probably give the martinis a rest little buddy.”

Five rolled his eyes, reminding Klaus of the stubborn kid they’d lost sixteen years ago, the kid who’d role his eyes at anything and everything. The man that had returned was often jarringly different from the boy that the Hargreeves children remembered, but it was times like this when the old Five shone through. “Must I remind you that I’ve lived more than long enough to drink whatever I want, whenever I want it.” Five snarked. This was the moment he’d been dreading, an inescapable one on one encounter. Five would see right through any bullshit excuse he’d pull, he might not care, but he’d see.

“Yeah, yeah, I get it old timer, but that’s a perfectly good thirteen year old liver you’re fucking up, maybe just take it easy for a couple years.” Five just scoffed and went back to his drink.

A woman was screaming. Screaming his name and cursing the boy that sat beside him. An old man muttered in another language, blood pooling around white hair. Klaus was on edge, and he missed he days he would spend traipsing from gutter to gutter, living off thrills and empty air. And speed, there was that too. It was a miserable life, but at least he was alone. Ben was beside him, but Klaus could barely hear his voice in the din. At times like these, Ben was the only thing that kept him from going insane. He was the only one that could see what he saw, and could understand how he felt.

“Just stick it out,” he said, putting a hand on his shoulder. There was an illusion of touch, even if Ben’s hand would just phase right thought him. “Just a little bit longer and he’ll go back to the bar, you can sneak off.”

“Yeah, I know where I’ll be sneaking off too,” he sniggered, under his breath, "right to my fucking dealer."

“Don’t say that,” Ben encouraged, “it’ll get better, you just need to learn how to control them, it’s gonna take some time.”

Five must have noticed that something was up, between all the twitching and grimacing and looking generally freaked out. “Doing ok there?” He asked, eyebrow raised, considering his brother the way one might look at a pitiful, sort of disgusting beetle struggling on its back.

Klaus barely heard what he said over all the noise. He glanced sideways at Ben. “He asked if you were ok,” he said.

“Christ, of course he did, what a stupid question.” Klaus chuckled to himself, which only further raised Five’s concern. Klaus cleared his throat hastily, “Yeah, yeah I’m always fine, always,” he repeated, whispering. Five shrugged.

Luther had been the first to give up the testosterone-fuelled staring contest, leaving Diego to slump down on the couch opposite his two brothers, no doubt intent on brooding for as long as possible. A lot had changed since they’d all lived here as kids, but not this - the cycle of tension between the two self-appointed top-dogs of the family. It was sort of comforting in a sad way, in the same way that it comforted the others to see that little Klaus was still rolling joints and pouring his life down the gutter. Their scars ran deep.

For a moment the room was silent - well, silent for everyone but Klaus, who had never known true silence all his life. The ghosts kept calling out to him, as if he could help, some of them didn’t even realise they were dead. The career of a time travelling assassin amassed a collection of colourful characters, some of them must have been gone for centuries.

“Take it easy with those drinks, Five,” Diego said, as his brother went to get himself another hit from the bar. Five threw his brother a dead-eyed glare and continued on his way. Diego looked to Klaus as if to say ‘can you believe this kid.’ Klaus shrugged and basked in the brief relief of Five leaving his side and his undead fan club concentrating their attention elsewhere.

“You’re right, Delores,” Five’s voice sounded from across the room, “I don’t think either of them have had an original thought in their lives.” Diego badly suppressed a chuckle and rolled his eyes. Klaus answered him with a nervous laugh, a little too enthusiastic for the context. Truth was he only had half a mind of what was going on, the other half was listening to this 19th century French lady screaming his name with about as much coherency as one could have if their throat was sawn through with a serrated trowel. They were only getting louder, the more he thought about them the more visible he was. Go away, he thought, I can’t fucking help you.

“It’s scary, being where they are now,” Ben reminded him, “if I didn’t have you here, I would’ve been lost, just like them.”

“Yeah ‘cause I’m you’re fucking saviour,” Klaus mumbled, smiling to himself.

“Don’t push it, asshole. Just concentrate on them, your brothers, remind yourself what’s real.” Diego barely seemed to notice their little conversation, he was too busy seeing how many times he could spin a knife in the air before catching it.

“Well, I should be going,” Diego announced, sheathing one of his many knives and getting up from the couch. “You should come with me to the gym sometime Klaus, you could really use the, err,” he indicated towards his brother, skinny and shaking, “exercise.”

Five was coming back. Klaus shook his head vigorously, which only served to make to voices blur together. He wished he had something to smoke. Ben was saying something again, but his brother’s reassurance only added to the cacophony. Any comfort he could offer him was lost. The boy sat down opposite Klaus, arm draped over that weird mannequin. “Yeah, ok Delores I don’t need you on my case too. I’m drinking this martini, just deal with it.”

Klaus cleared his throat, as if to remind himself that he still existed underneath all the noise. “Hey, uh, Five, little buddy?” he mumbled, voice raspy, “you think you could tell them to shut up, just… just for a second.” He brought trembling hands up to his ears, clawing at the sides of his face. He couldn’t help but feel like a kid again, a kid locked in the dark while skeletons burrowed into his mind.

Five rolled his eyes, he didn’t have time for Klaus’ bullshit. “Thought you were trying to stay sober.”

“Oh, I’m sober alright, I’m so fucking sober that it’s like Dia de Muertos up in here.” He laughed, high and choked. “In case you’d forgotten, this is what sober is for me. You starting to see why I’ve avoided it for the past seventeen years?” The woman with the trowel in her neck was wailing, all of them trying to get his attention, as if he could do anything. “Lady can you SHUT IT!” He shouted. In surprise at being acknowledged, she actually stopped, for a moment anyway.

Five cocked his head to one side, examining empty air. As if concentrating hard enough would let him see what Klaus couldn’t avoid. “There are ghosts here?”

“Yeah, there’s a shit ton of ghosts here,” he said, matter-of-factly, “and they’re all royally pissed off!” He sighed, looking out at them all. All the gruesome wounds and twisted, sorrowful expressions, begging.

“Why are they hanging around this old place?” He inquired, taking another sip of his drink.

Klaus chuckled. “They’re here because of you. Jesus, Five, you killed a lot of people.” Five was taken aback, as if he’d never considered the resentment of the people he left behind, walking in these lonelier planes. They had been jobs to him, every single one. Just another step on his path back to his family.

“What, are they all just… standing there?”

“Oh yeah, standing, sitting, screaming like a fucking BITCH,” he directed that last outburst towards trowel lady, who shut her gurgling, bloodied mouth properly this time. “Dude, why would you stab her with a trowel that’s just cruel.”

Five was reminiscing, searching for some vague memory. “There was nothing else around, I had to improvise.” He sighed, looking Klaus in the eye for more than a fleeting moment for once. “This is why you’ve been avoiding me, then.”

“Oh, you noticed.” He said, waving his hand around in the air absent-mindedly. “I figured you were too, how shall I put this,” he paused, “far up your own ass.”

Five glared at him. “I notice everything, Klaus,” he sighed again, setting down his drink on the side table and letting the mannequin slide out from under his grip. He leant forward, brow furrowed. It was his thinking face, one of Klaus’ least favourite of Five’s expressions. “Why do they stick around? What do they want from me?”

“I’m not sure they know what they want,” Klaus considered. He usually avoided thinking about the ghosts at all, let alone their motives for being such colossal pains in his ass. “You were a hitman so, they died quick, right? Unexpectedly. Most of them are probably innocent too, I mean shit, Five, there’s a couple of kids here.”

“It was necessary, for the fate of the world, and for me to get back here.” Klaus suspected that rhetoric was more for Five’s benefit than anyone else’s. Everything was always necessary, no matter how fucked up.

“Oh, you don’t need to convince me of that, maybe you should try preaching to trowel lady instead.”

Five cleared his throat, a little reluctantly. “Uh, trowel lady,” he began.

“You don’t even remember her name?”

“No, I don’t remember her name,” he hissed, indignant, “I don’t even remember what she looked like.”

“I don’t think this is going to work,” Ben’s voice sounded from beside him, finally discernible.

“Shut up, Ben,” Klaus whispered, “why don’t you get all buddy-buddy with her, seeing as you’re both dead.”

“Wait, what did you say?” Five asked. Klaus shushed him and leant back, resting the back of his head on the top of the couch, staring up at the ceiling.

“It’s just,” Klaus began, “it’s never been this bad before. Back when we were kids, there’d be a few stray corpses hanging around, plus a couple of perps we’d done in on the job – crushed by Luthor, slashed up by Diego, ripped to gory little pieces by Ben.” Ben shot him a look. “Sorry,” he added, under his breath. “It’s only getting worse, most days I can’t even hear myself think, especially when you’re around so, thanks for that.”

Five went quiet for a moment. It was strange for him not to come out with some quick quip that made him sound both intelligent and like an utter asshole. “I’m sorry,” he muttered, and he was. “And I’m sorry to all of them too, if that’ll make a difference.”

“Well, it might, I don’t know how this shit works.” Klaus sighed and looked back at his brother. The faces that swam around the corners of his vision were fading to a mottled blur. “Thanks, Five.”

“Don’t mention it,” he smirked, that shit-faced sidewards grin. He picked up his drink again, putting it to his lips.

“Nope!” Klaus cried, getting to his feet. “Nope, absolutely not,” he snatched the drink from his brother’s hands.

“Hey, what the hell!”

“No more martinis for you,” he poured the contents of the glass out onto the carpet.

Ben rolled his eyes, “really?”

“What,” he hissed, “I’m improvising.” He cleared his throat, addressing Five, his face now wiped of that smug expression. “Only thing you’re getting now are apples and oatmeal, young man”

Five opened his mouth as if to retaliate. He shrugged instead, “fine, fine!” He spat, getting to his feet. “I’ve got work to do anyway, come on Delores.” He hauled the mannequin up with him, one arm wrapped around its disembodied torso. He muttered to himself as he traipsed up the stairs, “alright, alright Delores, you win. No more damn martinis.” And to think, Klaus pondered, they’d almost had a moment of familial bonding.

“That’s right, go to your room now,” he called in a sing-song tone. “So, Ben, I think that went well,” he muttered, grinning. The ghosts were still there, of course, they never really left, not if her was planning on staying sober. Some of them shuffled up the stairs after Five, some continued wandering, muttering, it was infuriating. But, he considered, it was better. Something was actually getting better for once in his life. He could get used to this.

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

Feminine Mystique

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Skinny/No-Curves!Reader

Summary: Steve’s usual run took a turn he did not expect and gave him some scenery he’ll never forget. 

Word Count: 2,728 - One Shot

Warnings: Not smut, but a little sexy? IDFK

Bucky sipped on his coffee as he stared at Steve.

“Are you sick?” He asked.

“No.”

“Did you hit your head?” Bucky continued.

“No.”

“Did someone brainwash you?” Bucky smirked.

Steve glared at him. “No.”

“It’s almost dinner time and you’re going on a run. This isn’t your schedule.” Bucky accused him playfully.

“Jeez, Bucky, leave him alone.” Nat defended the poor man.

Steve gave her a grateful look before putting in his headphones and leaving the kitchen.

As soon as he left, Bucky’s playfulness disappeared and he shared a concerned look with Nat.

“He’s been out of it since our last mission.” Nat observed.

Bucky nodded, “I know.”

Steve told himself he wasn’t going to stop running until he was exhausted. Which, unfortunately for him, meant sprinting a literal marathon.

Despite being a city boy, Steve had grown to love the forests surrounding the compound in upstate New York.

In fact, after running 12 miles, he got so sick of his music that he just let himself listen to the nature around him. It made him feel more attached, more ingrained in the world around him. He tried to deny the fact that it also made him feel less lonely.

He must have ran himself into a new area, because Steve found himself unable to recognize the terrain around him. He’d easily find his way back to the compound. So he wasn’t worried about it. But now his senses were focused on observing everything around him.

Steve slowed to stop when he came upon a lake.

The sun was just beginning to set and the lighting made Steve wish he had his sketchbook to try and capture the scenery. He felt like he had walked into a fantasy world.

Steve walked to the edge of the water, where smooth pebbles substituted as sand. But his entire body tensed when he saw something move in the water just yards in front of him.

It was too big for it to be a fish. And its movements were far too mammal like.

Steve’s heart drummed in his chest. Could it be a mermaid?

With all the strange things he’d seen and experienced in the world, Steve doesn’t think he’d be all that shocked to know they existed to some degree.

But then their body straightened out and Steve realized it was a woman swimming.

Except it wasn’t just any woman… it was Y/N.

Steve had always possessed a hidden interest in her. She was newer to the team, wasn’t shy but also didn’t go out of her way to be best friends with everyone. But she was always kind when anyone talked to her. Steve caught himself staring at her on multiple occasions. Lucky for him, he was discrete about it and knew that Y/N was oblivious to his longful gazes.

Now, Steve’s mouth went dry when he realized Y/N was swimming naked in the lake before him. He knew he should leave, to disappear before she knew he was some creepy voyeur. But his legs decided to stop moving. He felt like he was glued in place.

Y/N had swam behind a collection of rocks that acted as a natural pier.

Suddenly she was climbing out of the water, lifting herself up with a grace that almost looked like a dance.

It was like time had slowed down.

Steve knew he should look away. But the artist in him was hypnotized to taking in every little detail of her body. He noted how a steam billowed off her skin since the air had gone brisk in the late afternoon. Her hair was slicked back so perfectly as if it was meant to only sit in water.

But then he noticed the line of her body. It was straighter than other women. Less curves, but somehow sturdier almost. Her breasts were small and her hips narrow. The muscles were evident from her training and she looked strong, despite her smaller frame. She didn’t look like the beautiful women in renaissance paintings. But she reminded Steve of the women in the 1920s that he found beautiful when he was just a little boy. He found himself imagining her in a flapper dress, the style seeming to be made for her body.

Despite the less feminine style of her figure, Steve felt desire awaken in him. He already knew he found Y/N beautiful. But he never imagined he’d get to see all of her like this.

Y/N looked like a siren that was sent to drag him into the water. If she really was, Steve had no doubt that he would follow her and happily drown to his death.

Steve found himself holding his breath as Y/N rung out the water from her y/h/c hair.

But then she finally seemed to sense that someone was watching her.

Y/N looked up quickly and her eyes widened when they spotted Steve.

She stood taller, from the fright. Steve could hear her gasp from where he was standing, yards away, and could see her chest heaving. She looked like a deer eyeing a hunter, who had his gun already loaded and pointed at her.

Steve took a step forward, “Wait! I’m sor-”

But it was too late.

Y/N disappeared.

She was a teleporter, giving her the power to travel across the world in the blink of an eye. It made her a deadly opponent in the field. And with all of her new combat training from various Avengers, she would soon be one of earth’s strongest heroes.

Steve swore under his breath.

How the hell was he supposed to explain himself?

He’d been watching her like some disgusting voyeur.

Steve rubbed his face and groaned. He sees the teammate, who he’s had a crush on for months, naked and it could not have been under worse circumstances.

Steve ran back to the compound twice as fast.

Part of it was to rush back to find Y/N and explain himself. But there was another part of him that needed to burn off the sudden burst of testosterone coursing through his blood stream. He was only human. Maybe he should take a cold shower before he found Y/N too.

He did just that, water still dripping from his hair as he walked to Y/N’s personal quarters.

But when Steve got there, her door was ajar and she was nowhere to be found inside.

For the next two weeks, Steve didn’t see even a glimpse of Y/N.

A few times, he swore he heard the sound of her teleportation right before he walked into the room. It was hard not to believe that she was avoiding him.

------

After 3 weeks, Steve became frustrated. If he ever had a shot with Y/N before (which Steve doubted), there was no way he had one now.

“Nat, have you seen Y/N lately?” Steve finally sighed in absolute exhaustion.

It was just him, Nat, and Bucky in the kitchen.

“I always see her around. Why do you ask?”

Steve rubbed his face and swore under his breath. Nat’s answer just further proved that Y/N was avoiding Steve.

Nat read Steve’s body language and shared a looked with Bucky.

“What’s happened?” She asked him.

Steve looked at the two of them, trying to figure out if he wanted to tell the two of them what had happened between him and Y/N.

“Come on, Steve. You can tell us.” Bucky encouraged gently.

Steve sighed again and nodded slowly, “When I went running that night a few weeks ago, I found a lake I’d never seen before. And… ugh… Y/N was there. And she was …um… she was swimming - naked. And I saw her. And…she saw me there. And-And… yeah.”

“Oh, no.” Nat breathed.

Steve’s heart raced. “What? What is it?” He asked quickly.

“This isn’t good.” She added.

“Can you stop being so god damn mysterious and explain?” Bucky snapped. He couldn’t help it when he was watching Steve’s face go pale. The poor man looked like he was going to be sick.

Nat rolled her eyes at their stupidity. Men.

“Have the two of you ever realized you’ve never seen Y/N in so much of a bathing suit?” She tested.

Both men went through their memory, trying to find what Nat was pointing out.

“Can you remember Y/N ever joining team pool parties or even just laying out with me or Wanda?” Nat pushed further.

Realization settled over Steve’s features. He had never seen Y/N in a bathing suit. Furthermore, he had never even seen her with just a sports bra on. It was normal for the female agents or Nat to overheat and forgo a t-shirt, deciding just to train in leggings or shorts and a sports bra. In fact, Y/N never even wore a fitted shirt. No matter how hot the gym got, Y/N was always wearing a baggy sweatshirt of some sort.

“Okay…” Bucky said carefully. “So what are you saying?”

Nat pinched the bridge of her nose, frustrated with the two men.

“Y/N is very self-conscious about her body. She’s a confident person in pretty much every other aspect. But when it comes to her body image, it’s not good.” She explained.

“She’s told you this?” Steve asked.

“She doesn’t have to.” Nat shrugged. “I read the signs.”

“Is that a girl thing?” Bucky joked, trying to lighten the mood.

Steve ignored him. “So… you’re saying Y/N doesn’t think she’s beautiful?”

“Beautiful, sexy, cute…No, she doesn’t, at least not physically.” Nat affirmed.

To Steve’s surprise, hearing that made him livid. How could anyone let Y/N believe she wasn’t any of those things? Y/N had always seemed like the whole package to Steve. So much so that he didn’t even think he was good enough for her.

Now Steve realized Y/N didn’t think she was good enough for anyone. And that was utterly ridiculous to Steve.

“You saw Y/N at her most vulnerable and she’s probably embarrassed,” Nat continued as she was oblivious to Steve’s internal monologue. “Probably doesn’t help that she has a crush on you…” She added quietly, fully aware of what she was doing.

Steve’s head snapped. “What?”

“Yeah, what?” Bucky joined in.

Nat smirked, knowing they had no idea.

Steve was frustrated then.

“Nat…what do I do?”

Who was he kidding? Steve knew he was terrible with women. He had no game. He could barely talk about his own feelings, let alone read those of others.

————

Nat knocked on Y/N’s door. She knew that Y/N thought Steve was on a mission. Nat had specifically planted a false conversation in the kitchen to make sure Y/N assumed so.

“Y/N, it’s Nat. Can you open up for a second?”

The door quickly opened.

“What’s up, Nat?”

Little did Y/N, Steve was standing to the side, hidden from sight.

Nat smiled. “Please, don’t teleport. Someone needs to talk to you. I’m sorry, but it needs to happen.”

Y/N’s face scrunched in confusion and then Steve moved into her line of vision.

“You two need to talk.” Nat called over her shoulder before walking away.

Y/N glared after her, not appreciating being manipulated.

“I don’t mean to ambush you like this, but I didn’t know what else to do. You’re a hard woman to find sometimes.” Steve said gently, trying to add a side smirk.

Y/N wouldn’t even look him in the eye. She just shifted her weight. Everything in her body language told Steve that she wanted this conversation to be over and for him to go away.

“Can I - Can I come in?” Steve asked.

“Ugh…sure.” She answered awkwardly before disappearing into the room and leaving the door to be shut by him.

Silence filled the room.

“I’ve been looking for you for weeks now.” Steve teased lightly. It didn’t land well. “Y/N, I just wanted to apologize for the other day. I acted very…ugh… dishonorably. I shouldn’t have gawked at you like that. I invaded your privacy and I’m really sorry.”

Finally Y/N looked up at him with a playfulness in her eyes. “‘Dishonorably’?” She laughed. “Jesus, I feel like I’m in a Jane Austen novel.”

The sound of her laugh saved Steve. It was exactly what he needed.

Y/N went back to looking uncomfortable. “Steve, I really just want to act like it never happened, okay? You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m just…um…real embarrassed.” She admitted with a blush as her fingers ran through her hair.

“I understand.” Steve nodded. “Can I just say one thing and then I’ll never bring it up again?”

Y/N winced, “Fine.”

Steve took in a deep breath, “I think you’re beautiful.” He blurted out.

Y/N’s eyes widened and she shook her head slightly. This was not what she thought he was going to say.

“And sexy.” Steve added with the reddest blush Y/N had ever seen. He pinched the bridge of his nose. “God, I can’t believe I’m saying this to you.” But he carried on. “I wanted to leave and be respectful that day. But you - you mesmerized me. So I just thought you should know… that you’re beautiful.”

Y/N opened your mouth to speak, but no words could find their way out.

Steve reached into the back pocket of his jeans and pulled out a folded piece of paper.

“I…ugh…couldn’t get you out of my head. I don’t think it’s right for me to keep it. But I also didn’t have the heart to rip it up. So take it.” Steve handed her the paper, “Please.”

Y/N slowly grabbed the paper and unfolded it.

Sketched onto it was her, just like she had been at the lake that day. Steve’s artistic skills were evident. But what was even more evident was how beautiful the artist found his subject.

Y/N’s jaw dropped at it.

Steve just nodded slowly and waved goodbye awkwardly with his hand before escaping.

He left Y/N stunned in silence.

————

Sometimes, on a day off, Steve liked to sketch and drink coffee on one of the compound’s many balconies. It was always as the sun was rising. The rest of the team was never up this early; sometimes Bucky, sometimes Tony (but only because he never actually went to bed).  

Steve smirked when he heard the soft sound that alerted Y/N’s teleportation entrance. Only him and Bucky seemed to be able to hear it. Even then, she still snuck up on the super-soldiers.

Y/N sat down in the chair next to him and took in the morning view.

Steve didn’t say anything, just kept sketching.

“I’ve never felt feminine. I don’t have curves…don’t have a womanly body. I know there’s so much more to me than my figure. But sometimes… it’s nice to feel beautiful or even…i don’t know…seductive?”

Steve turned to look at her, but remained quiet.

Then she thought about something and the ridiculousness of it made her laugh. “I envy Nat and how she has this mysterious power over men.” She shrugged. “But that’s her and I’m me. And that’s just never how I’ll look.”

Y/N finally looked up at Steve with soft eyes.

“Your drawing…No one’s-” She paused to gather the right words. “A man’s never looked at me like that. I saw it in your drawing. And it weirdly made me feel like… a woman.” She smiled sadly at him. “So I just wanted to thank you.”

Y/N didn’t expect him to say anything. So she slowly got up to leave him in peace once again.

“Wait!” Steve shot up from his seat, scared she was about to teleport.

“Yes.” Y/N answered before he could say anything more. “If you were about to ask me out…my answer is yes.” Then she broke into the most beautiful smile. “But if you weren’t about to ask me out, then this is going to be so fucking awkward…”

“I was!” Steve blurted out again. Then he chuckled as the moment caught up with him. “I was going to ask you out.” He repeated more calmly.

“Good.” Y/N smiled even brighter.

“Dinner?” Steve asked. “Tonight?”

---------

I always get nervous when I make the reader more detailed and specific. I know it sucks when the physical description doesn’t fit certain readers. But this has been bouncing around in my head and it’s very near and dear to me. So I had to do it. 

[jessikahathaway]

Ill Fitting

Guess who finally finished this? Me. Muahaha, please enjoy some best friends to lovers smut from me ;)

DO NOT OWN THE PICTURE

Pair: Kim Taehyung X Reader

Genre: Smut, Crack, Angst if you like, squint really hard.

Words: 10,189

Summary: You and Taehyung had been best friends for as long as you could remember, but what you don’t remember is falling in love with him...

“I think this dress makes me look like a slut,” you stated, staring into the mirror.

“You’d be right my friend,” Taehyung complimented, not even looking up from his phone.

“Kim Taehyung are you not staring at my ass and tits like a good friend would in this dire situation?” you asked, holding your chest in offense.

“Not one bit, looking for dick babe,” he said, scrolling through no doubt a hookup app.

“Can you turn the other side of your bisexuality on for just a minute please?” you asked, crossing your arms over your chest in frustration.

“Should I fuck Leemin again? He sucks like a fucking champ,” he said, not paying attention.

“Taeeee,” you whined, walking over to your bed and falling onto his lap.

“What? I haven’t gotten laid in like, three weeks. Main dude downstairs is dying,” he said, moving his phone away from his face to look at you.

“Main girl downstairs hasn’t gotten any action for almost three months, so, can we prioritize please?” you asked, sitting up.

“Right, right, show me the red one again?” he asked, looking at your pile in the corner.

“You told me that it made my ass look frumpy!”

“Oh, did I? Shit, sorry then maybe the green one would be better,” he suggested, raising an eyebrow.

“Maybe I shouldn’t go clubbing tonight,” you sighed, already moving towards your sweatpants.

“I’m sorry, Y/N, I get distracted easily you know that,” he whined, laying back on your bed. You sighed and looked at your best friend with mock irritation.

Taehyung had always been easily distracted. Ever since you were kids he’s always been the first one to point out something that no one else was looking at... Like you.

You weren’t the nice girl everyone loved to hang out with. You weren’t the pretty one. You weren’t the quirky and sarcastic girl that sat at the back of the class who had those witty one liners everyone loved to hear. You were just... you.

People ignored you and you ignored them right back. Except, Taehyung never did. Taehyung was the one that pulled you out of bed and made you do things on the weekends. He’s the one who got you to go to your first party and take your first drink.

In turn, you were the one who helped Taehyung when his family abandoned him. You aided him in his search for his sexuality, who he truly wants to be. Taehyung has always been the popular one, the one people invited to parties and liked being around. His personality infectious and laughter joyous. A must for any social gathering.

However, if Taehyung was going then so were you. It’s how he operated. If his best friend didn’t go, then he didn’t either.

The one thing all of his flings, boys and girls alike could never get over was how much he loved you. One girl tried to take him away from you, but that wasn’t happening in Taehyung’s book. And no man was going to take you away from Taehyung either. Many of your exes couldn’t get over seeing Tae as your best friend, the one you spent your weekends with rather than having mediocre sex with them.

Tag team since day one, and best friends forever.

But that didn’t mean Taehyung couldn’t be an utter asshole and an unhelpful twat.

Like tonight for example.

All you wanted to do was go out clubbing and maybe get a little action in the bathroom stalls after one or seven drinks. However, with winter coming to a close you were at your heaviest and most insecure. You didn’t like gyms because all of the testosterone fueled dick wads that could be found on every weight lifting machine. And all the girls who definitely don’t sweat on the elliptical. So, finding an outfit was proving to be a little esteem crushing.

“I feel so gross,” you complained, looking at yourself in the mirror.

“Why? I think you look fine,” Tae said, eyes glued to his booty call list.

“That’s it, I’m not going clubbing tonight. I’m going to give up sex and just stay true to my one and only love, hawaiian pizza,” you claimed, placing your hands on your hips.

“I still want to end our friendship over the fact you put pineapple on pizza,” he sighed, locking his phone and placing it on the bed.

“Sucks to be you then, cause you’re stuck with me,” you stated, raising an eyebrow.

“Damn, should I call your sister to fuck her and get you to hate me?” he asked.

“Do it, have fun with the fifty diseases you’ll wake up with in the morning,” you sneered. Taehyung made a gagging sound before standing up.

“Gonna head out, Leemin just texted back and he’s DTF. I wish you luck in your sexual endeavors,” he said, kissing your head.

“Have fun, don’t disappoint him with your tiny dick,” you said, pushing his chest playfully.

“Hey me and my four inches don’t need to listen to this discrimination,” he scoffed.

“Not discrimination, just facts,” you said. “Remember I saw your dick,” you winked.

“Yeah, when I was like, twelve. I’ve gotten bigger since then!” he defended.

“Not like I need to know that,” you sighed, going to unzip your dress. Taehyung pushed your hands away and unzipped your dress for you, throwing your sweatpants at you on his way out the door.

It was times like these that made you happy and depressed at the same time. Taehyung was gorgeous, there was no denying that fact. Physically? The man was a God, broad shoulders with beautiful bronze skin that wove all over his body in an attractive manner. Plus, his smile was to die for. However, when such a specimen is your friend for eighteen plus years, and doesn’t try to make a move on you once, you feel slightly inadequate. Not to say that men play a role in how you perceive yourself... but sometimes it’d be nice to know that he thought you looked pretty.

Taehyung is a bisexual male, preferring men just a tad bit more than women. Something you’d found out over the many years of being his friend. He’d had flings with women here and there, but nothing like he had with men. All of his serious relationships have been men, women mainly just for a fuck when he needed it...

Were you just that to him? Someone to talk to when it was convenient?

No, no no. Taehyung was your best friend. You both loved and cared for each other more than anything. And that would be enough...

For now.

* * *

The following week at work you were sat in your cubicle, doodling on a piece of notebook paper. Your floor supervisor, Kim Namjoon, decided now would be a good time to drone on and on about the newest project he’d been assigned and how excited he was to take his team to the next level of management and production quality.

Working in an editing column for a publishing company wasn’t the worst job ever. You got to read books and make edits, before anyone in the world got to see them. It was rather exciting at times. However, when the boring parts hit the office, they hit them hard.

You looked at your clock on your desk, sitting right next to a picture of you and Taehyung as children. You remember that day. It was Taehyung’s seventh birthday and he wanted to spend it with you. Your mom saved up the money and took you both to the water park that day. Since Taehyung’s mother was in rehab at the time.

It had been a great day, you both ate ice cream and played in the wave pool. You sang happy birthday at the top of your lungs and cried when it was time for him to go home. It is to this day one of the fondest memories you have with Tae. Because, nothing was expected of you. All you had to do was have a good time...

“Y/N? Y/N are you listening?” Namjoon asked, looking at you with a slightly upset expression.

“Mm? Sorry Namjoon! I-I just got lost in thought,” you said, rubbing your face.

“Who’s that in the picture you were staring at?” he asked, pointing to the frame in question.

“That’s Tae, my best friend. That was his seventh birthday,” you smiled besides yourself.

“Oh, I thought it was your boyfriend... You have pictures of the two of you everywhere in here,” he said, looking at your cork board and desk.

“Well, when you care about someone you want to have memories with them all around you, incase something bad happens you still have good memories to smile at,” you explained. Namjoon nodded at your explanation before continuing with his management talk.

“Y/N! Y/N!” Tae’s voice sounded throughout the office.

“Speak of the devil and he appears,” you sighed, standing up. “Sorry, Namjoon, lunch date just got here. Can we pick this up later?” you asked.

Namjoon nodded before standing up and holding his hand out for you to shake. “Make it a promise?” he asked. You laughed softly and shook his hand. As Namjoon turned around, Taehyung was there, smiling his big boxy grin as usual.

“Hey babes,” he announced, holding your lunch in his hands.

“Babes...” Namjoon whispered, walking out of the cubicle.

“Hi Tae,” you said, walking over to give him a kiss on the cheek. He smiled and wrapped his arm around your waist.

“Who was that?” he asked softly, gesturing to Namjoon who had left.

“Namjoon, co-worker, why?” you asked, turning in his grasp to grab your lunch from him.

“He’s pretty hot,” he stated, making a face of intrigue.

“Hands off, he’s a co-worker, not a blow up doll,” you warned, digging into your sandwich. Taehyung chuckled lightly, but let go of you so you could eat.

“Not for me, for you,” he whispered.

Pieces of sandwich fell from your mouth as you started choking. Taehyung jumped in alarm and started patting you on the back in hopes of easing the scare.

When you could breathe again you looked at Taehyung with an incredulous look. “Excuse me?”

“If you farted I’m leaving.”

“Taehyung, no way!” you said, throwing your hands in the air.

“Why not? He’s hot and more than likely single, because yikes that outfit. And you are in desperate need of sorting out in the bedroom department. I’m sure he’s great in bed,” he attempted to convince you. But you already had your mind made up.

“I’m not fucking my co-workers Taehyung, I can’t risk that.”

You heard a huff before the chair next to your desk squeaked in protest at new weight being forced upon it. “Just ask him out for coffee, simple and easy. Test the waters to see if you like him, and if not, then I’m sorry and I’ll pay for all the drinks next time we go out,” he offered.

“That is bribery,” you stated.

“It’s the only way to motivate your bitch ass.”

“As tempting as that bribe is, I’m still going to decline that bad idea,” you stated.

“Let me help you, Y/N! You just said a few nights ago that you were dying to have sex! I’m sure that Namjung-”

“Namjoon,” you corrected.

“What’s his dick would love to deliver! I care about your vaginal health too,” he said, holding your hand.

“Tae, as sweet as you tried to make that, it doesn’t matter. I’m not having sex with Namjoon. End of story. Period. Done,” you finished.

“You’re crabby when you don’t get laid,” Taehyung whined, stealing your bag of chips.

“Well, you’re a pain in my ass when you do and don’t get laid, so I guess I’m fucked in both categories.”

“You’re not getting fucked in any categories, that’s the problem here.”

“Taehyung!”

* * *

After the great office embarrassment of 2018, Taehyung decided to let up on his match making quest. Although, that didn’t mean he let up on getting you out of the deep pit you call your apartment.

Normally Taehyung had to drag you out of your house kicking and screaming. However, this morning, there was a necessary evil you had to shop for. Company dinners were truly satanic. It was pure evil hiding behind free booze and finger food you couldn’t pronounce.

And then there was the trial of having to find appropriate dress for the evening. Another time consuming process that you loathed. Trying on clothes made you want to rip your hair out. That’s why half of your clothes were ill-fitting. You couldn’t be bothered to try them on at the store. Either they were too big, a little snug or just right.

However, in a situation like this one, a sacrifice had to be made.

Unfortunately that sacrifice was Taehyung’s sanity.

“Y/N, if you take me into one more Goddamn dress store I’m committing mass murder. Maybe genocide if I hear ‘mermaid cut,’” he warned, walking behind you with his feet dragging.

“You’re the one who agreed to come with me,” you stated, spotting another boutique down the street.

“Because I thought maybe there might be some hot guys and gals to peer at while doing this shopping. However, most of them are teenagers and it makes me feel very gross to oogle an eighteen year old,” he whined, holding the door open for you.

You patted his cheek affectionately before stepping inside the shop.

That’s when you saw it.

A beautiful navy blue gown with lace arms and a pencil style skirt that was just calling your name. The mannequin looked slightly slimmer than you, perhaps the past few months with Taehyung shoving food down your throat didn’t help your cause.

But like fuck you weren’t trying that dress on.

“Miss,” you asked, walking up to the woman in the shop. She turned to you with an eyebrow raised.

“Yes, how can I help you?” she questioned, looking like you were a cockroach under her boot.

“Um, c-can I-”

“She wants to try that dress on,” Taehyung announced, pointing to the exact model without looking up from his screen.

You nodded and cleared your throat, trying desperately not to be such an awkward fuck.

“Well, we have the size that’s on the mannequin, then approximately three sizes up from that. So, would you like me to order the dress for you? We can take the measurements and have it delivered here in about two weeks,” she suggested.

“I have my company dinner next week, can’t I just try the one from the mannequin on?” you asked, pointing towards it.

“Well, that’s probably a size too small for you dear,” she stated, turning away from you.

“Excuse you?” Taehyung piped up from behind you.

“Yes, sir?” she asked, eyes sparkling at Taehyung’s handsome face.

“She said she wanted to try it on, as the saleslady shouldn’t you listen to the customer and not your own image of what you think is what’s going to fit on her? You’ve never measured her, never seen her anywhere else in anything less. So, why is it that you get to decide that the dress would be too small on her?”

You flushed in embarrassment. Taehyung could get lippy from time to time and it could absolutely make you want to shrivel into a husk of nervous shaking. The woman shrunk under Taehyung’s intense glare and nodded quickly.

“Certainly, I’ll set you up with a dressing room right away,” she said before running away with her tail between her legs. Taehyung’s eyes went right back to the device in his hands as the lady politely asked for you to follow her.

In the dressing room, a distressing revelation was becoming true.

The rude bitch was right, it was a size too small. Your tits were bulging out of the damn fabric and the leather of the pencil skirt was squeezing you in an uncomfortable fashion, that was anything but fashionable.

You leaned against the door, trying to get yourself from breaking down in this dressing room in a stupid boutique after a day of failed dress shopping. You could hear Taehyung tapping away at no doubt another messenger app, looking for his dick down of the night.

As much as you loved the guy, his dick needed to chill. Like, it was going to run out of gas at this rate.

A final sigh in defeat made you begin to disrobe. Just as you were about to pull the garment over your head, a fatal rip and tug made your heart drop.

“Shit!” you yelped, trying to keep still.

“You okay?” you heard Taehyung ask through the door, not fully interested.

“Taehyung,” you said, muffled through the clothes.

“Why does it sound like you’re losing cell reception? Are you huffing the fucking dress?”

“No! Listen, just shut up,” you growled. His silence allowed you to continue. “The old bitch was right, it’s too small for me,” you whined.

“Really? Where?”

“In my tits and ass,” you complained.

“That’s fucking hysterical,” Tae chuckled, setting down his phone. “I’ll go get the assistant-”

“Don’t you fucking dare!” you hissed. Taehyung’s footsteps stopped.

“What do you expect me to do!” he complained. “Listen, I love you but I have a-”

“Taehyung, can you prioritize me over your dick for once please?” you asked. Taehyung sighed once again through the door.

“What do you want me to do?” he asked.

“C-Crawl under the door and help me get out of this stupid contraption,” you stated.

“Crawl under the door in a women’s dressing room, you’re much kinkier than I remember... The book club would be scandalized,” he said, getting down on the ground.

As he shuffled in, Taehyung made the grave mistake of looking up...

There you were, a stupid fucking dress crumpled on your head, and panties on full display. Taehyung was eye level with your center, covered in lacy underwear that decorated your skin like a present. His heart shuddered for a moment before beginning to race. His hands got sweaty on the wooden floor as he tried to remember how to breathe.

The only thing he could think about was diving face first into your sweet pussy, practically being waved in front of his face.

“Tae, what the fuck are you doing?” you asked, huffing in impatience. Taehyung jolted at the idea of being caught staring at his best friends vag, while she is stuck in a dress. He jolted so hard in fact that he wound up smacking his head on the door.

“Ah, shit!” he whined, rubbing his head in frustration.

“Tae? You alright?” you asked, sounding concerned.

“Fine babe,” he said, touching your calf in comfort. Goosebumps raised on your skin after his warm palm left. He stood before you, trying to figure out how the fuck you managed to get yourself in this situation.

“Just, please hurry and get this stupid thing off of me so I can go eat something.”

Tae resisted the urge to jab at the ironic situation you were in, due to indulging yourself a few too many times, however the word resisted is key. “I’m working on it,” he stated, gripping the fabric and trying to pull it over your head. You yelped in pain and he stopped promptly.

“I-I think the zipper is caught in my hair or my bra. Maybe both,” you whimpered, wanting nothing more than to crawl back into whatever hole hell spit you out from.

“Yeah, it’s caught in your bra hook,” Taehyung examined. “There’s some hair tangled up in it as well, just hold on for a second. Try not to move,” he said. You stood patiently as Taehyung ever so carefully unwound your hair from the zipper track, leaving just a little bit of snarl for you to deal with later.

Next, the bra.

“I think I’m gonna have to unhook your bra,” Tae stated, placing his hand on his chin in contemplation.

“Excuse me?” you asked.  

“It’s really a bad time to fart, cramped space-”

“Kim Taehyung just unclip the fucking thing and get me out of the stupid dress!” you yelled.

“Shh! Easy, I don’t want to be caught in this stupid predicament of yours,” he growled.

“Close your eyes then,” you asked softly.

“Hmm? Why?” he asked, placing his hands on your shoulders.

“Because if you unclip my bra it’ll come off,” you stated, trying not to turn even more red than you were certain you were.

“Duh, that’s the reason we need to unclip it. Unless you want to buy the dress like this?” he suggested, the thought of you actually pursuing that hilarious to him.

“I don’t want you to see me topless,” you stated softly. Taehyung made a confused face.

“I’ve seen your tits many times, Y/N, what’s the big deal?” he asked.

“You’ve never seen them fully, I’d like to keep it that way,” you declared.

“Fine, I’ll shut my eyes. I bet I could unhook bras without looking,” he snorted.

“Oh shut up you playboy,” you whined. Taehyung chuckled before closing his eyes and reaching for your skin.

It’s a scientific fact that when one sense is removed, the others are heightened to compensate for the loss in sensory attachment. When Taehyung’s hands met your back, a chill ran down his spine. However, not out of disgust, but out of pleasure. Your skin was so soft and warm against his palms. He tried desperately to think of anything else.

Dead Grandma, sad puppies. Anything to distract him from how right this felt. His hands on your barely clothed body and about to remove a very intimate article of clothing. You were fairing no better. Taehyung’s hands on you and pressed against your frame had you fighting for clarity in your clouding brain.

Finally the clip to your bra was found.

On instinct, Taehyung opened his eyes. He watched as his hands worked of their own accord, unsnapping the wire clips, unlatching the dress as well. The bra sagged, but not falling off all the way, due to your arms above your head. But, Taehyung saw your nipples perk at the cold air assaulting them. What he wouldn’t give to have them in his mouth...

What the fuck!?

He needed to stop, right now. H-he couldn’t think about you that way. As fucking cliche as it was... he didn’t want to fuck this up. Taehyung didn’t want anything to change between the two of you. It has always worked. You the salt, him the pepper or something like that...

He cared about you more than his own dick, so he was just going to do what the totally original main character did.

Bottled that shit up like a fine wine and suppress it!

“Ow! Tae, hurry up and get this thing off me before my arms lose circulation and come off,” you complained.

“Sorry,” he said, shutting his eyes and helping you pull the material off your body.

You quickly turned around and saw Taehyung’s eyes closed tight. He actually did as you asked... But, there was a sick part of you that was hoping to see his brown eyes peering into your own. After getting an eye full of your body...

Quickly you threw on your clothes and then ushered Taehyung out of your dressing room. You were quick to say goodbye to the lady and decided to just wear one of your older dresses for the company dinner, in hopes that it wasn’t too scandalous.

* * *

Taehyung was glad to be away from you for a little while. After dropping you off at your apartment he needed to get some distance...

The sight of you before him, reacting to his touch was too much for him to bear. He had to fuck it out of his system, right then...

He called up an old flame of his, Rose, and she said she’d be over in a few.

Your panties covering the one place on you he’d never seen. The part he wanted more than a best friend should...

The doorbell rang and Taehyung was quick to pounce on the scantily clad woman at his door. Rose mewled as he devoured her, watching as he quickly ripped his shirt from his body.

“It’s been a long time since you’ve called... Thought you gave us up for dick,” she stated, throwing her jacket on the floor.

Taehyung didn’t care for the talking. He just wanted to fuck it out of his system and forget it. Forget you, if he could. Because his friendship, his life with you was too good to throw it out because of a measly panty shot.

He could get pussy anywhere else, but you. He wouldn’t let himself dirty you as well. You didn’t deserve it, you deserved the world and Taehyung was the last person who could give it to you. As a freelance photographer, he didn’t belong in your social standing. Being your best friend was pushing it far enough.

Anything more could be detrimental to you.

Slowly, rose fell to her knees on the floor in front of him. Taehyung watched as she fished him out of his jeans and pumped him a few times. He didn’t miss the tick in her jaw at his slow reactions. He tried to enjoy the sensation of her mouth on him, wanting it to feel like the hot cavern he was used to... But in reality, it felt like a python with no teeth wouldn’t let his dick go.

After a few minutes of struggling and disappointed sighs, Rose lifted her mouth from his semi-hard erection.

“What’s up, Tae? Do you want to fuck, or do you need to talk?” she asked, looking up at him with mild curiosity.

“I’m really sorry, Rose... I want to fuck, but my dick and heart are at war right now,” he sighed, pulling himself back in his pants and zipping them up with finality.

“Don’t be, I get it. Being hung up on somebody is difficult, especially when you’ve been hung up on them for almost your entire life. I can see how that could get a little taxing after a while,” she stated, wiping the drool from her mouth.

“M-My whole life-”

“Cut the shit Tae, you’ve been in love with Y/N since before we met, and that’s been over seven years now. You fuck around, find good dick or good pussy to distract yourself. But in the end, you always find your way back to her somehow. You need to admit it to yourself, otherwise you’ll end up regretting it. Believe me, I already do,” she stated, staring at him with a knowing smile.

“Rose, she’s been my friend for years. How am I supposed to try and make the transition?” he asked, running his fingers through his hair with frustration.

“I can’t tell you how to broach that subject. Test the waters, flirt with her more intensely. See how she reacts. You two are already pretty touchy feely, more so than most best friends. Take it another notch up. Patience is key,” she said with confidence. Taehyung sighed.

Patience had never been his strong suit...

But for you? Anything could be.

* * *

Stood before your mirror good ole self esteem came crashing down on top of you like the rotting carcass it was. You were frantically searching for a dress that would be appropriate for this social meeting that you really had no desire to go to... But everything you had were stupid clubbing dresses!

As per usual, Taehyung sat on your bed staring at his significant other, phone.

“Taeeee!” you whined, throwing the tenth dress on the ground with a huff.

“What, babe?” he asked, cockng an eyebrow and looking up.

“There’s no dress in here I could possibly wear to the company dinner and it’s in five hours!” you stated in horror. Taehyung threw his phone on the bed and walked up to your closet confidently. He fished through the multiple hangers and random socks and... something that was most definitely alive-maybe. Until he found a hanger with a plastic covering.

The black dress you’d worn to your college graduation. It had a sweetheart neckline with off the shoulder bands that hung around your triceps in decoration. It was a beautiful dress, but you were thinner back then...

“Here, try this on,” he suggested, pushing it towards you.

“No, Tae. There’s no way it’s going to fit me,” you said, beginning to look through your more casual dresses that might be able to be gussied up.

“What do you mean? It was only three years ago, try it!” he insisted.

“I have pants from a year ago that don’t go over my ass now, there’s no way that thing will fit,” you stated firmly.

“Hey, if pants are only ill-fitting in your ass, then I’d say you have a good problem right there,” Tae said with a wink. You shoved his shoulder before fisting through the fabric again.

“How about-”

“The one I picked? I think it’s a great idea. Try it on,” Taehyung said, a firmer tone settling in. You looked at the dress he was holding and felt your heart sink into your stomach. You’d loved that dress when you purchased it, young and carefree. Much less late night taco bell runs and french fries back then.

“Tae I really don’t want to humiliate myself by trying a dress on I know won’t fit. Stop,” you demanded.

“You’re being ridiculous. If I’m being forced to be your date to this thing then I declare you go in that dress as payment,” Taehyung smirked. You frowned at his comment. Fucking dick move, Taehyung.

“Fine, but I don’t want any snide comments when I can’t get it to zip up,” you growled, snatching the dress and heading towards your bathroom.

As you undressed you felt anxiety well up in your throat. You hadn’t put this dress on in a long while, and you were much different than you were back then. In more ways than one.

You closed your eyes and pulled the dress up your body. To your surprise, it slid right on, sitting nicely against your curves. You stated in the mirror and looked at the fabric hugging your frame. You reached behind you and felt the zipper moving up easily, until you couldn’t bend your arms that way.

“Tae!” You yelled, pulling your hair the side. Ten came a knock at the door.

“Y/N? Are you okay in there?” He questioned.

“I just need you to zip up the dress, get in here,” you stated. The door clicked open and Taehyung waltzed inside, not before dropping his precious phone first. You jumped at the loud noise and turned around quickly. “Jesus Tae! Scared the shit out of me,” you said, holding your chest in fright.

Taehyung could only hear the blood pounding in his ears at the sight of you. The dress fit better than it did when you first bought it. Now, you filled out every inch with your gorgeous frame. Although, your boobs looked like they were struggling for air in that top. But that was besides the point. You looked too good for words, and Taehyung wasn’t having any of it.

“Nope, take it off, I was wrong,” he declared, crossing his arms over his chest. You scoffed.

“With that reaction I’m assuming I look fantastic, I hope you phone rests in peace by the way,” you commented, pointing down at the floor.

“Oh fuck,” he breathed, a pained expression on his face. He lifted the device and bit his lip. There was only a crack in the lower part of the screen. It still worked. He could live for another day.

“Now that you two are reunited, mind zipping me up now?” you asked, flashing your back to him once more.

“No, I told you I was wrong. Maybe the pink one would work better...” Taehyung trailed off, heading towards the door.

“You told me I looked like fourth grader in that dress, just zip me up. What is your deal?” You asked, surprised at his outburst.

“Because,” he sighed, staring at you. “Other people are going to see you in it,” he stated. You rolled your eyes.

“That’s kind of the point. Quit being dumb and help,” you complained.

“I don’t want other people to see you in this dress,” Taehyung said quietly.

“What?” You asked, turning quickly. Taehyung flushed, he couldn’t believe he said it out loud. Fuck, should be just commit and tell you? Tell you what he’s been thinking about and the depth? Could he do that? Should he risk it all?

“Nothing... I’ll help,” he conceded, coming forward to place his hands on your back. You jolted at the feeling of his skin on yours. Confusion swept over you. Why, all of the sudden, were you hyper aware of his touch. Anticipating his next move and feeling his hands drag the fabric together and zip up your dress.

Your face was red when you turned around to look at Taehyung. He seemed, off. Like something was bothering him almost... “Tae? Do you not want to come with me?” You asked, wondering if the thought of being at this dinner was one he was dreading.

“No, I want to go. Free food and spending time with you is always a bonus. Get ready, I need to find my suit,” he said, wandering out of the room. You stared as he walked away. Taehyung seemed upset, almost possessive.

It was like you two were young again and you played with his favorite toy without asking. It truly threw you for a loop. But the feeling of his palm on your back, holding you there as he pulled the fabric together with the zipper... it sent chills of pleasure down your spine.

Anxiety welled in you stomach as these thoughts plagued you. Had it really been so long since you got laid you were starting to crave the affections of any man? Taehyung had been in your life for so long, maybe you’d neglected the time when he grew up...

When did he get taller than you?

When did he get his license?

When did his smile start to make your heart stop?

When did his presence become so vital to your life?

When... did you start loving him?

Your hands flew up to your mouth as you recalled the conversation. He didn’t want anyone else to see you in the dress... Did he-Did he feel the same as you?

“Tae!” you screamed, bolting out of the bathroom and running down the hall. A door slammed and feet began to run towards you, before you knew it you slammed into Taehyung at full force. Dress shirt half buttoned and pants thrown on haphazardly paired a horrified expression, he held onto you.

“What? Are you alright? Why did you scream?” he asked, holding your face.

“Do you love me?” you asked, panting. Years of subtle tells running through your mind, it all seemed too much.

Taehyung’s face turned into confusion and moderate annoyance. “Of course I love you idiot, is that why you screamed? Jesus fuck, I thought you were being murdered-”

“No, I mean do you love me like I love you?” you breathed, gripping his wrists tight.

“Y/N, what-what are you talking about?” he whispered, dropping his hands from your face. You took a daring step forward.

“Taehyung, I’m so stupidly slow. Incredibly, like snails are dead and gone by the time I understand something,” you stated.

“I’ve known that for years,” he quipped.

“Then, did you know how much I’ve loved you for all these years? How much you’ve meant to me? Have I never told you that the night I lost my virginity, I said your name? Because, I couldn’t think of anyone else who would love me as much,” you breathed. Taehyung’s heart began to pound.

What had gotten into you?

“Y/N, are you sure you’re alright? You’re kinda freaking me out right now,” he said, backing up as you continued towards him.

“I need you to tell me right now if you don’t feel the same... I need to know if this is something I’ve been holding onto for years, just to have to let it go right now. Because you mean more to me than anything, Kim Taehyung. Anything in this whole world.” Taehyung’s back hit the wall, no escape.

“Y/N...” Taehyung trailed off.

“Taehyung, please. Tell me,” you begged. Everything in your head was swirling around. Too much information too fast.

“I-I... I don’t know how I feel, but I know I don’t want any other man to see you in that dress. I know that I almost threw up telling you to ask out that Namjung-”

“Namjoon.”

“What the fuck ever! I don’t want him anywhere near you,” he growled.

“What if I went to the company dinner in this dress. And he asked me for a dance?”

Taehyung face turned dark. “He wouldn’t get close enough,” He glowered. You reached up and touched his face, holding his jaw in your palm. On instinct, Taehyung leaned into your touch. You smiled at his reaction.

“You know, I know you were staring at my breasts in the dressing room,” you teased. Taehyung paled.

“I-uh, never did that,” he coughed, rubbing his neck. A tell he was lying.

“Oh my God you did look! I knew you wouldn’t be able to listen to me for once!” you huffed, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Look, Y/N. I don’t know what happened in that bathroom, but I do know that I’m half dressed and your company dinner is in two hours. So, we should probably-”

“I don’t care,” you whispered. Taehyung let out a breath he hadn’t realised he was holding.

“Y-You don’t care?” he asked, looking at you in confusion.

“I don’t fucking care about the Goddamn company dinner, Taehyung. You keep dancing around the same question without a fucking answer,” you growled. He swallowed rough, throat suddenly dry.

“Babe-”

“Don’t, please don’t,” you whispered.

“Y/N... We can’t do this, you mean way too much to me to risk a friendship like ours-”

“For a relationship? Is it because I’m a girl? Are you not attracted to me?”

“No! It’s not like that, Y/N,” Taehyung scrambled.

“Then what? Because the whole ‘not wanting to ruin the friendship’ cliche isn’t a good enough fucking answer,” you stated. Taehyung took a deep breath in and sighed.

“I can’t lose you, Y/N, it’d kill me...” he whispered, bringing his palms to your face.

“You won’t lose me, Taehyung. You could never,” you stated, holding his wrists gently in your hands. You ran a soothing thumb down his skin to ease his anxiety. Wishing for his worries to melt away with your touch.

“If I fucked this up, I couldn’t live with myself knowing I hurt you... I-I can’t do that, Y/N. Please, just forget all of this,” he pleaded.

“I can’t,” you announced. Without a moment's hesitation you launched yourself forward, capturing Taehyung’s lips with your own. Taehyung wrapped his arms around your shoulders, trying to pull you off of him. But his strength seemed to sap from him the longer you worked your mouth against him.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer, feeling heat coursing through your veins. Taehyung was at war with himself. Did he risk it all? Or leave you? Your lips pushing against his had him fighting for his sanity. God did he want you... You looked so tempting in that dress, fuck. It was everything he could do to not rip it off.

“Hang on,” he breathed, pulling away from you for a moment.

“Do you want me? Because you can have me, all of me... But you need to promise me that I’ll have you too,” you breathed. Accepting what you’ve known in your heart to be true for your whole time with Taehyung. That you wanted him to be yours.

This was it...

You were offering yourself, your heart up to him on a silver platter. Does he dare turn around and say he wanted gold? Or, does he accept your love and his own..?

“Okay,” he breathed, looking into your eyes with all the love he had.

“Taehyung,” you smiled, pulling him into a tight hug. He squeezed you back, feeling how perfect you felt in his arms. How you were meant to be there... He rested his cheek against yours, breathing on your neck softly. The warmth of his breath sent chills down your spine, and the urgency from earlier made your heart flutter.

“I’m trying incredibly hard to be a gentleman right now, but fuck I need to get you naked,” Taehyung growled in your ear. You gasped as he licked your chin and up to your mouth, slowly moving your lips apart with his tongue and delving into your sweetness. You whined into his kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer and closer, wanting him so close you could breathe him in.

“I want you, so bad, please Taehyung,” you pleaded, moaning at the sensation of his tongue on your skin. He had some sort of oral fixation because if his lips weren’t on yours, then his tongue was on some part of you. He wanted to devour you whole, he’d waited too long to be denied. You pushed your hand inside of his partially done shirt, feeling the warm skin against your greedy palms.

“You’ll get me babe, just hang on,” he tempted, sucking on your lower lip.

“Bedroom,” you moaned, gripping his forearms tightly.

“Shit, okay,” he whispered, dragging you towards your bedroom. You easily complied, letting Taehyung pull you through your home with practiced familiarity. You whined when his lips left yours for a moment so he could adjust you in his hold to open the door.

“Tae~” you whined, tugging on his already loose collar, wanting to kiss him more. Taehyung huffed in annoyance before planting his lips back on yours and popping your door open. You hummed, appeased for the time being. Taehyung groaned and reached behind you to unzip your dress.

“Want this gone,” he groaned, practically ripping the zipper off the track to remove the fabric.

“Don’t rip this fucking dress or I’ll kill you,” you warned, glaring at him through your eyelashes.

“Sorry, sorry,” he mumbled, pushing the top down and off your body. Noticing that you didn’t wear a bra with this dress. Seeing as how it was off the shoulder. You moaned when he took a nipple in his mouth, warming the flesh with his tongue. You arched into his advances, tangling your fingers in his hair.

“Shit, Taehyung,” you said, biting your lip.

“Fuck you’re so breathtaking,” he huffed, licking his lips after pulling back.

“I wanna suck your cock,” you said, falling to your knees in front of him. Taehyung moaned at the sight of your breasts jolting at the sudden shock to your body. You were almost salavating at the thought of his thick length in your mouth.

“Don’t stare, suck me,” Taehyung growled lightly, scraping his nails along your scalp. You licked you lips tauntingly before undoing his pants and pulling him out. You marveled at his veiny texture and the sight of precum dribbling down his beautifully curved shaft.

Taehyung looked like he was going to shove you down on his dick if you continued to tease, so you leaned forward and gave kittenish lick to the tip, savoring the sensation of his precum touching your tongue. You moaned at the feeling and took more and more of him in your mouth.

“Fuck baby, look so pretty with my dick in your mouth,” Taehyung groaned, throwing his head back.

You hummed on his cock, moving your tongue along his sensitive tip and swallowing around the meat of his shaft. Taehyung hissed, biting his lip in effort to not buck into your sweet mouth. You wrapped your hand around the base and began to pump what wasn’t fitting in your mouth and throat. Wondering if Taehyung had a kink for messy girls, you let your drool fall from your lips and all over your chin and hit your breasts.

Taehyung’s eyes dilated as he leaned forward to take his dick from your mouth. “Fuck, you’re so dirty baby,” he panted, capturing your wet lips with his. Wrapping his hand around your neck Taehyung practically moved the kiss along. You could feel his thumb teasing your airway, no doubt wanting nothing more than to push down and cut off the sweet oxygen keeping you grounded.

“Taehyung,” you gasped.

“I’ll make love to you later baby, I promise,” he said, a kiss sealing the deal. “But right now, I need to fuck you dirty and hard... Until your sweet pussy is so swollen and you have bruises all over your beautiful body. I want to be ingrained in every inch of your skin... Till the only thing you know is me,” he purred, pulling to your feet.

“Sounds absolutely perfect,” you said, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him closer to your trembling frame. Taehyung’s hands found your thighs and pushed on them, wanting you to jump up.

“Jump,” he whispered.

“Tae, I can’t. I’m too heavy,” you said, blushing.

“You’re not, jump up before I deadlift you,” Taehyung said, not even remotely kidding. Not wanting him to hurt his back you placed your hands on his shoulders and jumped up to wrap your legs around his waist. His dribbling length rubbed against your ass and you found yourself biting your lips to keep from crying out.

“Are you alright?” you asked, looking at Taehyung for any signs of discomfort.

“I’m fine, but I need to get inside you,” he groaned, walking you over to the bed. You yelped when suddenly your back hit the fabric of your comforter and Taehyung was grinding against your clothed pussy.

“Take your shirt off, I wanna see more of you,” you pleaded, pulling at the button up that had been obstructing your view too long. Taehyung complied, undoing the last buttons and throwing the fabric to the floor, leaving it to be forgotten.

“How’s that, baby? Like what you see?” Taehyung asked, running his hands down your body.

“Yes, I love it,” you whined, gripping onto the sheets as Taehyung found your center.

“Do you like being fingered? Or are you too sensitive?” Taehyung asked, looking at you for permission.

“I like being fingered, but I’d love your mouth so much more,” you said, taking his chin in one hand and running your thumb along his lip. Taehyung opened his mouth and let your thumb dip in, swirling his tongue around your digit playfully.

“Let me taste you,” Taehyung said, moving away from your hand and back down to the apex of your thighs. You leaned back and let him part your legs, giving himself better access. Slowly, he hooked his fingers in your panties and pulled them off, exposing your dripping center. Taehyung let in a sharp breath. “Fuck, you’re soaked baby... Did just sucking me off get you this excited?” He asked, biting his lip.

“Mmm, I loved your thick cock in my mouth Tae,” you complimented, teasing him with a bit of your tongue peeking out as you panted in excitement.

“You look so incredible like this. Sweating, wet and panting for me... Jesus fuck, you look tight,” he moaned.

“Why don’t you find you?” you teased, running your hands over your lower lips and spreading yourself for him. Taehyung moaned at the sight of your insides clenching for him.

“God, I’m so hard it hurts but I gotta taste you before I bury myself in this sweet cunt,” Taehyung groaned, moving forward and licking at your with desperate abandon.

“Oh! Tae!” you yelped, gripping the sheets tightly and letting the pleasure seep into your blood like a drug. That’s what Taehyung was... An addictive drug that was slowly taking over every essence of your being. He was going to absolutely ruin you, and you planned to do the very same to him.

His tongue dragged up from your entrance and swirled around your clit, teasing the swollen area of your sex. Never giving you the spike of pleasure you desired. He was such a fucking tease. You watched as Taehyung rut against your bed, trying to find relief of his own as he devoured you whole.

“Baby, put your dick in me,” you pleaded.

“Mm, you taste so good... I wanna keep going,” he said, humming against your clit in a promising manner.

“Fuck!” you cried as he pushed one finger in your heat. Your pussy swallowed him right up to the knuckle, clenching around his intrusion.

“Holy shit, you’re so fucking tight... Fuck I can’t wait to destroy you,” Taehyung said, moving his digit back and forth slowly trying to open you up so you would accomodate his length. The thought of your tightness all around his tender erection had him thrusting into the mattress like a horny virgin.

“Tae, I can’t wait... I want it, please,” you whined, throwing your head back against the bed in pleasure.

“Baby you’re too tight, I’ll hurt you,” he said, flicking over your clit with his thumb to give you some patience. However, it made you want him more.

“Please Taehyung! Rip me in half, I don’t give a shit, I just want you so fucking bad,” you demanded.

Without warning you were lifted to Taehyung’s mouth assaulting your own. You moaned into his harsh kiss, if you could even call that. It was more like a passionate bite. “You’re always so fucking impatient... Can’t wait for the pizza to cool off, can’t wait in line for a coffee, can’t wait. Such a greedy little brat,” he growled.

A harsh smack resounded throughout the room. You ass burned in pain, but the rush of pleasure that followed was worth the ache. “Oh! I’m sorry,” you apologized, grabbing Taehyung’s face and kissing him as if he was the last pleasure you’d ever know.

“You’re not sorry yet, I’ll make you sorry,” he groaned as you bumped his cock. “Fucking hell, I can’t wait... I’m gonna punish you for this you little shit... But I need you so fucking bad,” Taehyung moaned.

“Give me your cock, please Tae... Wanna cum on it like a good girl,” you begged. Taehyung full on snarled at your statement.

You pulled your dress the rest of the way off as Taehyung practically ripped his pants and boxers off his frame. You got into a better position and opened your legs to accept Taehyung between them. You watched as he crawled onto the bed, kissing his way up to your lips.

“Do you want me to use a condom?” he asked. You thought for a moment. Taehyung was a major fuck boy and you may be on the pill but that didn’t keep you from getting and STD he may have contracted.

“Yeah, yeah I do... But we’re going to get fucking tested tomorrow you little shit. I’m on the pill,” you said, glaring at him.

“God damn it,” he snarled before grabbing his wallet from his pants pocket and pulling a condom out from the back.

“You know they’ll dry out easier that way,” you stated as he tore open the packet with his teeth.

“I won’t need any lube with how fucking drenched you are baby,” he winked, running a finger up your slit to prove his point. You winced at the harsh pleasure, but it left you wanting so much more.

“Just put it in me already,” you complained, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him, slipping your tongue in his mouth and trying to encase yourself in his intoxicating being. Taehyung gripped his length and rolled the condom on with practiced ease. However it was difficult with you kissing every inch of open skin with an eagerness that was hard to ignore. Taehyung managed to get the latex on himself and pushed you onto your back.

“You sure?” he asked, looking into your eyes one last time for permission.

“I’m sure,” you nodded, licking your lips that still had the taste of him on them.

Finally, Taehyung rubbed himself against your slick fold to get some lubrication before pushing against your entrance.

The pressure was a bit much, but just watching his facial expressions were worth the achy pain. Taehyung gave a shallow thrust to help open you up for him. “Oh fuck,” you whimpered, letting your head fall back into the pillows. Taehyung gripped your hips and adjusted your position to help ease the sharp sting.

“Relax a bit more for me, baby. I won’t get it in otherwise,” he said, placing a kiss to your forehead.

“Mmm, your so big. It’s hard to relax,” you said, panting from the effort. Taehyung interlocked your fingers and kissed your knuckles and kept up his slow and gentle thrusts.

“You’re doing incredible babe, feel so good around me,” he breathed, leaning over you as he hitched on of your legs around his hip. A harsher push followed as you felt your walls stretch even more.

“Fuck, Taehyung,” you groaned, wincing at the feeling... But wanting to be completely consumed by it nonetheless.

“Pussy is so fucking tight,” he groaned, pushing in further.

“I want it all, give it to me,” you stated. Taehyung looked at you in concern.

“I don’t wanna force it baby, I don’t wanna hurt you,” he said, keeping his pace.

“I can handle it, I’m a big girl and you’re certainly a big boy so give it to me,” you demanded. Taehyung groaned as you shifted your hips and caused him to sink into you further.

“You fucking asked for it,” he grunted, pushing himself the rest of the way in. He paused when he felt your ass touching his pelvis.

“Holy shit, you’re so fucking big,” you mewled, grasping at his shoulders. Taehyung tried to hide his prideful smirk, but it was hard when you were in the throws of passion because of him inside of you.

“Do you need a second baby?” he asked, kissing along your jaw and licking your earlobe teasingly.

“No, fuck me hard,” you demanded. Taehyung smiled and began to set an grueling pace.

With each thrust that was delivered into your body a sharp moan was wrenched from your throat against your will. He was just so thick, and you were so full of him. The lewd sound of your flesh smacking against his as he fucked into you echoed through your room.

“Ah! Fuck baby, so tight. This sweet little pussy is just swallowing my dick. Were you so thirsty for my dick baby? Mmm? Wear that fucking dress out in public and I’ll fuck you in front of anyone,” Taehyung growled.

“Maybe I will- oh! W-wear it in front of Namjoon and see what he thinks about it-Ah!” you cried as Taehyung thrust into you so hard you moved up the mattress. He had you seeing stars with the brutal fucking he was giving you. No doubt your poor center would be bruised, but like fuck you weren’t going to thank him for the fucking of a lifetime.

“Like fuck you will. No one gets to see you like this but me,” he barked, smashing your faces together into another kiss. You desperately gripped onto his frame to keep you grounded, but you could feel yourself slipping into a frenzy.

His cock was hitting you just so and he made a point to grind against you with every other thrust, stimulating your clit with the motion. Everything he was doing made you need him more and more, harder until you couldn’t breathe.

“God, Taehyung. Fuck me harder, I don’t wanna be able to move from this bed for a month. Please baby, give it to me harder. Want you to drill who I belong to into my pussy. Fuck! Dick so hard, hmm baby? Is my pussy good? Do you like how tight I clench around you?” you panted into his ear, dragging your nails down his biceps. Taehyung’s hips stuttered at the sharp sensation of your nails digging into his flesh. He loved the stinging impression they left on his activated skin.

“Want me to fuck you harder? Hmm? Is that what my baby girl just asked for? You sure?” he teased.

“Fuck me like you mean it,” you snarled, pushing yourself up so that his dick came out of your center.

“What are you-”

“Shh,” you whispered, reaching down and pulling the condom off his length, throwing it onto the floor and shifting to your side.

“Whoa, Y/N, I don’t know-”

“Get over here and fill me up with your cum, baby,” you purred, rubbing your clit out of desperation. Taehyung moaned and pumped himself a few times before pulling you against his body, diving back into your sweet heat.

“Fuck this might not be a good idea,” he groaned, beginning to thrust into you even deeper than before.

“Mm, this is the best idea I’ve ever had... I can feel you,” you groaned, loving the sensation of his hot, throbbing cock massaging your weeping walls.

“Baby, I’m not gonna last much longer,” he moaned, bucking into your harshly. You wanted nothing more than to feel him cum inside of you.

“I don’t need you to... Please, hurry... I’m so close, talk dirty to me Taehyung,” you pleaded.

“Mm, baby wants to hear me talk dirty? Oh, where should I start? Huh?” he asked, picking up his pace. “How about how fucking tight you are around me? It’s like you’re trying to squeeze the cum right out of me, fuck I’ll give it to you baby. Anything you want, you can have it. Fuck, I’m gonna cum so hard in this sweet pussy and you’ll be so full you can’t walk for days. I wanna watch my cum dribble out of your swollen cunt, baby... Fuck, it’ll be so hot watching you-ah... Fuck baby, gonna cum,” he warned, hips stuttering. He managed to work himself up.

“I want it, please baby,” you begged, reaching down to rub your clit as Taehyung practically kicked into you to hard you could feel the bruises forming.

“Here it comes, take it all baby,” he moaned. Taehyung grunted a few more times and then a whine came from his throat.

You felt the first splash of heat rush through your senses, and it sent you over the edge.

“Taehyung!” you screamed, gripping the sheets and shuddering from the intensity of your orgasm. Taehyung kept moving his hips to empty himself inside of you and help coax you through your climax.

“So pretty all fucked out baby,” he purred, voice hoarse with crying out his release. You trembled in the afterglow of your orgasm. Taehyung leaned forward and placed a sweet kiss on your swollen lips.

The strength seemed to be sapped from him as he laid down next to you, fingers intertwined.

“Holy shit,” he breathed, looking up at the ceiling.

“You’re telling me,” you said, swallowing hard. “Shit, my vagina is gonna be sore for like a month,” you complained.

“Coming from the girl who kept begging me to go harder! Damn, I almost threw out my hip,” Taehyung quipped.

You both fell into comfortable silence.

“Y/N,” Taehyung started, turning to look at you.

His breath whooshed from him all at once at the sight of you. Lips puffy from kisses, eyes glassy from tears and lust, hair thrown about from your fuckfest.

You were absolutely divine in his eyes.

“Yes?” you asked, turning on your side to face him.

“I know I may have done this in the wrong way, but I’d like to take you out on a date if you’d let me?” Taehyung offered.

“That’s so sweet, you can be my date to the company- OH FUCK!” you yelped, getting up and immediately falling onto the ground in a crumple of post coital limbs.

“Y/N!” Taehyung yelped, crawling over to your side to check on you.

“Taehyung, I was supposed to be at that dinner half an hour ago!” you said, face palming.

“As I recall, you said you didn’t give a fuck about the dinner. But I gave a fuck for you certainly,” he winked. You shrieked on the floor and started looking for your panties.

“Shit, it’s really important I shouldn’t have-”

“But didn’t I promise to make love to you after fucking you into oblivion?” Taehyung purred from the bed. Your ears perked at the promise of more sex from him.

You were silent before giving your answer.

“I-I think the dress was ill-fitting anyways.”

[daleyrasmussen26-blog]

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[versxtileboys]

muse: orion for: tops & bottoms (specify which one you’re playing in the tags pls!) plot: orion and your muse have been working out together for the past few weeks. your muse has heard rumours about orion’s escapades and tonight’s the night that they both cross the line. suggested connections: workout buddy, friend at the gym, casual friend, acquaintance   tw’s: n/a

orion’s favourite place, without a doubt, to find new booty calls was the gym he was a member at. whether he was just lucky or the copious amounts of testosterone built up in guys made them forget their values and submit to anything, he always found that he had luck with finding new people. he and the other had worked out in the past a few times. a budding friendship with definite interest in one another had led orion to keep his eyes open for the telling signs of something more than just spotting partners.

it was late at night and, though the gym was twenty-four hours, he and the other were the only ones there from what he could see which definitely came in handy in the locker rooms. clad in only the jockstrap he had been wearing, body exposed with the cool air hitting his chest, he turned to the man and smiled. “you been trimming or something?” he asked, eyes giving the other man’s whole self a once over, the urge to dampen his lips growing, “you’re looking great.”

[nitroidwrites]

body switch

Relaunching my ancient drabble au on Aomine and Kise getting switched into each other’s bodies. I hope to make this into a complete fic soon!

Also had some amazing art drawn by the incredible amanduurr here. ❤

body switch I

Getting through the school day is hard.

Aomine cannot get over how slender Kise’s body is, the clean shape of his well cared for nails, the gentle curve of his waist before it meets his hips - all things the tanned teen is definitely not used to.

He shifts his feet under Kise’s desk, studying the flow of Kaijo’s school slacks around Kise’s long legs. The blond is so lanky; Aomine was surprised to discover that his shirt was a couple sizes larger than Kise’s.

In Kise’s notebook, the name Ryouta is scrawled in elegant cursive - in English letters, which surprises Aomine - on the first page. The second page is decorated with cute and slightly grotesque looking monsters that Kise had probably sketched out and then outlined later with a thin black marker. Aomine recognizes one of the monsters as a keychain on the blond’s bag.

Kise has a slim, barely there pencil case that unsurprisingly hosts two gel pens, a blunt 2B pencil, an eraser, a marker, and surprisingly, a slim, sleek and dangerous looking box cutter. Aomine ponders over why the blond would own something of the sort but decides that he is better off not knowing.

When the bell rings for lunch, Aomine moves Kise’s body out of class and into the sunshine. He’s even more surprised to note that Kise has really pale skin; so pale he can even see the greenish-bluish veins connecting at his wrist to his thumb, sprawling out all over his hand. The tips of his fingers are soft. The skin at Kise’s elbow is so white; Aomine decides this is a welcome change from his usual tan.

He locates a good spot behind Block C of Kaijo’s chemistry lab, and sits down on the grass, holding the small bento Kise’s mother had lovingly packed for the boy in her son’s body. She has no idea that he isn’t really her son.

Aomine cranks open the bento cover carefully to discover it is a thin onion soup with chopped carrots, potatoes, seaweed and a few spoons of rice. While Aomine usually sleeps through lunch, he knows that this is somehow much-needed nutrition for the blond, who almost never has time to eat or hang out due to rushed modeling gigs.

He drinks and eats every last bit for Kise.

And when the bell rings again to signify the continuity of lessons, Aomine curls Kise’s body into a ball and allows the blond some good old sleep.

body switch II

Kise trips, slips, and slides in Aomine’s basketball shoes. Although they fit well, he isn’t used to the larger teen’s body size at all and is having major trouble trying to wrap his mind around fitting into a couple sizes bigger than he usually wears. He trips over shoelaces he’d stupidly forgotten to tighten, and lands on his face. Well, Aomine’s face. It still hurts, for a bit.

He feels his cheeks burning hot as he tries to appear normal.

Nothing about this is normal, not even with his added bonus of modeling skills, and Kise is very certain that he can pull off almost anything and look good for the camera.

Except that there is no camera, but a multitude of eyeballs watching him participate in a practice match with awkward stunts only toddlers display. After landing a three-pointer, Kise slides down awkwardly in the middle of the court and covers his eyes and cheeks with both hands.

“Aomine?”

The rest of Touou’s teammates collectively gather around his trembling frame.

“Oi, Aomine!”

“Whoa…”

“You alright?”

Kise manages a nod and excuses himself politely. He doesn’t want to offend anyone by screaming that he needs some form of spiritual shift, preferably back into his own body, but by the looks on their faces, he must have done something wrong.

“You taking lessons on mannerisms from Momoi?” A bespectacled teen asks with a worried smile.

Kise recognizes him as the Touou team captain.

“I mean, you did come to practice today… that’s a first.”

He jerks back with the sudden realization that he is behaving in a way that is highly unlike Aomine and has absolutely no idea what the tanned teen does in his free time, but concludes that now is the perfect time for a getaway.

He stretches his arms as chill as he possibly can, and mumbles something about being tired as he fakes a yawn. He hauls Aomine’s ass out of the gym and bolts for the only place he is used to hiding from people - the school library. He ducks behind the farthest shelves from the entrance and slides down into a seated crouch as he breathes in the strong masculine scent of Aomine’s sweat, basketball jersey, and a spiced wood sort of smell, possibly from his aftershave.

Kise lets out a whimper.

He checks his phone when he receives a text - it’s Aomine, telling him to cheer up and that he’s given his body a good amount of sleep, mostly by skipping several classes. Actually, he skipped about five out of six classes. Also, there had been a test and his body had not been present.

Staring at tanned fingers, bathed in testosterone-soaked sweat, smelling like everything Aomine, Kise buries his face in his hands and inhales. He can’t help it.

He is so in love.

body switch III

Aomine is fairly certain Kise’s body is incredibly fragile.

He demonstrates a halfhearted dunk in Kaijo’s indoor gym and pushes Kise’s long fringe up over his damp forehead. Somehow, Aomine isn’t used to this light, nimble body. His mind is hyper-aware of the fact that using Kise’s body with his usual lackadaisical manner of which he normally treats his own body would somehow break the blond teen, much like a porcelain plate being thrown onto a hard surface. Aomine nurses the thought of Kise smashing into a million and one pieces in his mind, and shakes his head to clear his brain, which is on the verge of panicking at the sudden flood of images that consist of Kise’s naked body disintegrating into an abysmal void.

So far, the tanned ace has spent the entire night discovering the other teenage boy’s body, from his face to his torso, his armpits - such light colored, barely there hair! - to his well-manicured nails, slender legs, the strange curves of his hips, and most intriguingly, Kise’s cock.

Aomine smirks at the memory of a mole, a tiny, but still noticeable dot on the inside of Kise’s left thigh, barely a finger’s length away from his crotch.

The blond is so beautiful, Aomine feels a sense of protectiveness blanket the rest of his functioning nerves with vigor. The feeling intensifies whenever anyone lays a hand on Kise - be it anywhere on his person; shoulders, arms, hands - and Aomine’s tolerance level does a flip, a twist, and a leap into annoyance.

He barely notices when the ball rolls to his feet.

Kise’s captain, whom Aomine has come to like, gently drops a clean towel around his neck and guides him carefully to the bench beside the court.

“Is it your leg again?” Kasamatsu asks quietly, cautiously not making eye contact, but every fiber of his being shows Aomine he is very perceptive of Kise’s injury.

Feeling a wave of mixed emotions overcome him, Aomine sits Kise down as gently as he can manage without straining the blond’s knee and ankle - he winces as he feels a twinge accompanying the movement - and tries not to think about the pain Kise has been allowing himself to constantly endure since the last match against Seirin.

“I’m good.” He manages to make Kise say.

“Are you sure? You did skip practice yesterday. Did you have another gig on?”

Aomine, feeling his stomach churn slightly for having to lie to Kise’s kind captain, nods tersely and attempts an apologetic smile.

“Yeah, kinda.”

“Don’t strain yourself.”

“I won’t.”

Kise’s voice comes out thin. Aomine clears his throat.

Kasamatsu gives him a skeptical look, but jogs away to find some water for both of them.

Folding in on himself, Aomine wraps his arms around Kise’s legs, bringing his chin to rest on his knees. It is a pose he has often seen the blond do during Teiko days.

He is surprised that he can still remember.

Inwardly, he wonders how long he can pull this off, pretending to be Kise, and avoiding questions, concerned looks - and most of all, keeping away from random girl groups, women smiling at him in the streets, calls from talent hunters, and other humans in general. Aomine can feel exhaustion seeping through his bones, and wonders how Kise goes through life day by day in this manner.

A chilled Pocari touches his cheek, and a warm hand rests on his shoulder.

Kasamatsu and Kise’s other senpai, Moriyama, peer down at him.

“What do you need?” Kasamatsu places a hand against Aomine’s - nee Kise’s - forehead. “Tell me.”

“Let’s take a break. We could go to an onsen. Hit on girls. Get numbers.” Moriyama felt Kise’s neck for fever signs before looking at Kaijo’s worried captain. “Temp’s okay. Think he just needs some air.”

The other teammates crowd around whom they assumed was Kise, concern marking their features as they watch him quietly.

“Did anyone hear what I said, give the guy some space.” Moriyama is saying.

Kasamatsu places a cool damp towel on his forehead, almost lovingly. He offers Aomine a worried smile.

“Lie down for a bit, Kise.”

Beyond speechless, Aomine stares up at them and feels a genuine warmth spread through his chest and throughout Kise’s body. He decides that Kaijo’s team seems to consist of sunshine, glowing stars, and angels.

He thinks he knows why Kise wanted to win so much, back then. It was all for these guys.

[zenaidawhipple-blog]

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[allenmendezsr]

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