#I almost exclusively write angst and just the worst possible things happening

[fogsy-feel]

This is not a diss on anyone at all but I have just come to a hilarious conclusion. I honestly find it so funny that for all my fics I constantly get the same type of comment. 

My inbox is full of  “Well, I was hesitant at first. Because the premise is fucking wild and I didn’t think it would work out, but this is actually good. I like it!”

This is for almost every fic I’ve ever written, no matter the fandom. My brand has just become: it shouldn’t work, but somehow it does...

[buckyownsmylife]

daddy issues - final chapter

The one where Ransom doesn’t feel ready to become a father, but he should have thought about it before sleeping with a complete stranger.

When Ransom’s latest one night stand lets him know that he’s going to become a father, he finds himself looking for the qualities he never believed to have so he can become the parent he never got to witness as a child.

for general warnings and author’s notes, please go to the fic’s masterlist.

A/N: this is it, everyone! Thank you for following along for the ride. This series is now officially completed, but I will write an epilogue for it eventually (it most likely won’t be coming out next Tuesday). If there’s anything in particular you’d like to see in it, please let me know!

Y/N’s P.O.V.

The gentle sunlight dancing through the sheer curtains woke me up. I did not understand why anyone bought these types of curtains - maybe for the living room, sure. But to place them inside a bedroom?

The aesthetic purposes weren’t as important as the usefulness and as far as drapes go, these were pathetic. I had told Ransom about them before, and all he did was chuckle and agree to call his interior designer to ask for something made of a better fabric.

Yawning, I sat up on the bed and stretched out my arms, moaning softly at the pleasurable pain on my muscles. I was still half-asleep, mind not yet connected to anything when I felt a sweaty hand slip from my stomach to my thigh, and I realized it was naked.

I was naked. All at once, the memories from last night returned and I whipped my head to the side to check on a sleeping Ransom, face turned to me as he snored gently on the pillow.

I remembered everything then. The fight, the insecurities, the reassurances, the physical reassurances… The way he told me he loved me…

I wanted to say it back. I really did because I knew I felt the same way about him, but I hadn’t anticipated it would happen during sex after what was probably one of the worst evenings of our lives.

It felt too real. Too much, too soon. I needed to get out of here.

In my rush to leave the bed, I dipped the mattress too abruptly considering there was someone else slipping on it - someone I didn’t want to wake up. So that’s precisely what happened.

Ransom’s P.O.V.

I inhaled deeply as the slumber slowly left my body, memories of the night before rushing in as I exhaled into a smile. God, that was the best night of my life.

Opening my eyes, I was hoping to find her body right next to mine, close enough that I could reach over, touch her and maybe repeat some of last nights best moments until hunger forced us to leave the bed.

But my fingers didn’t find anything and when I looked up, it was to find her frantically trying to put on some clothes as she fumbled from one side of the room to the other.

“What’s going on?” My voice came out harsher than I intended, throat hoarse from last night’s activities and the sleep that still somewhat dominated my body. Upon hearing it, she froze, keeping her back to me while my mind raced, trying to make sense of what I was seeing.

And then I understood it.

“You’re trying to leave me.” She didn’t deny it, but guilt must have been inside of her, fighting for dominance over her fear because she turned around to face me, a pained look on her expression.

“Ransom…” I knew that tone. I hadn’t even employed on anyone before because I never cared enough about someone to feel bad when I broke things off with them, but this feeling was universal.

I rushed to leave the bed, uncaring of the fact that I was still naked when I crossed the distance between us and took her face in my hands. “Don’t do this,” I pleaded. “Don’t lock me out again.”

Tears dominated her eyes and she blinked them away, forcing them out so they could run over her cheeks. Frustration was clear on her every feature, she shook her head as best as she could considering my hold on her, squeezing her eyes shut for a second like she was trying to think.

“Why the fuck can’t I control myself around you?” She burst out, and immediately the angst I was feeling escaped my body, letting me go now that I knew what was bothering her.

Taking a deep breath, I brushed her hair away from her face, gazing deeply into her eyes so she’d know how much I meant what I had to say.

“Because you like being with me just as much as I enjoy being with you.” She couldn’t counter that, but when she tried to avoid it, I called her out, “It’s true, you can’t deny that!”

She bit on her bottom lip, trying to contain herself, trying to get a hold of her emotions that must have been all over the place. I could understand that, considering… well, everything. Not only her pregnancy and our emotional connection, but the array of feelings we went through last night.

One thing remained true. I loved her and after what she did for me, I knew she loved me too.

“Your head’s trying to talk you out of it,” I recognized, hoping now that I was showing the problem she would acknowledge it too. “But you know this in your heart, just like I know on mine!”

Once again, she didn’t oppose it, and that gave me all the confidence I needed to keep going.

“We’re supposed to be an ‘us’, sweetheart,” I breathed out, hope and longing evident in every single word I uttered, as well as my eyes, that never strayed from hers. “Please, give this a try.”

Silence followed. She was calmer now, more rational. Her breathing was slower but she still looked weary, still looked scared. So I let her go, separating my skin from hers even though it was the exact opposite of what I wanted to do, so I could give her as much room to think as possible.

But I was going to lay all of my arguments because this was the battle of my life.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

I felt cold without his hands on my body, his presence towering over me. Hugging myself, I hesitated between leaving the room or staying there, when he started to talk again, making the decision for me.

“You know it makes sense.” He was talking about him and I, I knew it. And I agreed. There wasn’t a single cell on my body that could deny this - not anymore. Still, my brain persisted, stuck on idiotic reasonings that had no place ruling something so important to my heart. “It makes so much sense.”

The fact that he was willing to fight for this, to fight for me was making this even harder on me. It was clear on the way he spoke - on every word he said - that this mattered to him and I felt comforted in the knowledge, but even more frustrated that my stupid insecurities still haunted me.

“I know I’m not easy,” he acknowledged, leaving me even more frustrated with myself. “And I definitely don’t deserve someone like you. But if you want me, I’ll be here.”

I had to say something. I couldn’t just let him think so low of himself, not when he was being the perfect partner and my only reason to hold back resided exclusively on myself.

“I do want you,” I managed to admit, my voice tentative as I played with my own dress. “I want you Ransom, and you do deserve me but I…”

That was enough to get him near me again, hands once more cradling my face as he dipped my head so I’d look him in the eye. “I know you’re scared,” he recognized, tongue wetting his lower lip as he rushed to try to calm me. “I know you’re scared of loving me, and I was scared too.”

A chuckle escaped his lips, he sounded almost guilty. “I still am, if I’m being entirely honest. But I’m willing to give this a try because the other option… well, the other option is simply unacceptable to me.”

Silence laid heavily in the room as I contemplated what he was saying, thinking about the other option myself. I didn’t want to live it. I didn’t want to go through this alone and love Ransom from a distance.

The fear of losing him brought me the courage I needed to push through and tear down the last wall I was stupidly trying to keep against him and I.

“You’ve done so much for me,” I recognized, trying to keep the shame in my voice to a minimum. “So much to prove to me that you’re worth it.”

The light coming through the curtains made the atmosphere almost romantic somehow, and now I found myself enjoying them because this way, I could see the sparkle of hope that twinkled in Ransom’s deep eyes.

I needed to say it. It was time for me to say it. “You’re the only person I want to be with,” I started, dipping my toes in the water while I prayed that the sea wouldn’t take me. When Ransom smiled, thumbs brushing over my cheeks, I felt comforted that if a wave should swallow me, I’d die happily in its embrace. “Ransom… I love you.”

His lips connected to mine, my heartbeat loud on my ears but I wasn’t anxious anymore. All I could feel was happiness, blinding, hopeful, bright - taking over my entire body when he parted and rubbed his nose against mine, cocky grin on his lips as he teased, “I know.”

Snorting, I allowed him to pull me back to bed, perfectly content on his embrace as I was suddenly reminded of something. “Oh, but if you ever cheat me, I’ll cut off your balls.”

It was my payback for his response to my love confession, but also my way of admitting my biggest insecurity. Ransom knew it, and so he pulled me back to lay against his chest so he could rub my back calmingly.

“You really shouldn’t worry, baby…” I knew from his tone that he was joining in on the light banter, but whatever he was going to say would be a truthful reflection of his feelings on the matter. “I don’t think anyone is more attractive than you.”

That sent me into a fit of giggles, aided by the fact that he took advantage of my distraction to start tickling me. Once he was done and I was trying to catch my breath, I caught him staring at me with those deep, emotion-filled eyes again.

“Besides…” he continued, like he had never even paused. “I’ve never wanted anyone half as much as I want you.”

[kindahoping4forever]

I Love You, Ain’t That The Worst Thing You Ever Heard? // Ashton Irwin

This started out loosely based on a dream I had (🤡) and spun into something a lot more complex and interesting. I’ve been working on this on and off for months (bless @cal-puddies​ who I’m sure is glad she won’t have to hear about this anymore lol); it was actually one of the first things I tried writing on my own (I just couldn’t get this concept out of my head) and as my writing evolved, I had to keep going back to retool and make sure the story did too. Hopefully you’ll think it was worth the effort!

Warnings: FWB-but possibly more-!Ash, slight jealousy/angst but it’s mostly internal, dummies who don’t realize that they’re in love, an absurd amount of smut but it’s justified because there’s an emotional narrative to it (really), moments of Dom!Ash, oral/manual stimulation of a female, overstimulation, spanking, cumplay, (and yet also) protected sex, no for real there is so much smut you guys I think that’s a comprehensive list of warnings but I’m not sure  

Word Count: 5858

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“If you’re not ready in 15 minutes, I’m going without you,” Ashton declares.

“Cool but it’s my friends we’re having dinner with, so that might be controversial,” you point out, nudging his elbows off your vanity so you can open the drawer in front of where he’s sitting.

“Oh, they like me better than you, it won’t be a problem,” he teases, handing you the beauty blender you were looking for.

You snatch it from his hand. “Dude, you literally weren’t even invited, you just asked if I was busy and said ‘oh that could be fun’ when I told you what I had planned.”

“I feel like my presence was assumed when they asked you,” he shrugs.

You toss the sponge at him and he laughs as you shoo him out of the room so you can finish putting yourself together.

You and Ashton have been together for a few months, although neither of you have ever tried to discuss what “together” actually means. Your relationship seemed to be an endless string of implications. When you met, it was implied you liked each other. When you made out at a party a few weeks later, it was implied it was as friends. When you started sleeping together, it was implied it was casual. In your mind, you were something more than “friends with benefits” but still something less than a full-on relationship.

He puts a record on and has just crossed into the kitchen to help himself to a bottled water from your fridge when he notices a vase of flowers on the counter that he definitely didn’t send you.

“Fancy flowers,” he comments. “Who sent them?” He asks, despite immediately checking the card and seeing the message “Thanks for last weekend, let’s do it again sometime ;)” alongside what seems to be a masculine name.

You’re rooting around in your closet, trying to find the top you had planned on wearing while your mind is focused on your mental checklist of everything you still have left to do before you leave; it takes a good 15 seconds for it to register that Ash has even said anything and another 10 before you distractedly call out “a friend” in response.

Ashton sits on your couch and while his hands are turning the pages of some random magazine he found on your coffee table, his eyes are fixed on the bouquet he can still see sitting on the kitchen counter. You’ve never discussed exclusivity, he would have no right to be jealous. But he can’t deny the panic that ran through his body when he saw that card and he can’t keep his mind from racing now.

He thinks he’d almost feel better if he’d found evidence you were fucking someone else; he hates the thought of someone else touching you but he’s also confident that they couldn’t possibly make you feel the way he does in bed. He’s not worried about the sex. But flowers? That implies romance, implies thoughtfulness and intimacy, which are things he wouldn’t blame you for seeking elsewhere. He knows he hasn’t been offering that to you in the ways he could, in the ways you probably deserve.

He tortures himself with these thoughts a bit longer and then props himself in the doorway of your bedroom to check on your progress.

“Oh you’re still here? You were so quiet out there I figured you made good on your threat and you were already at the restaurant ordering apps without me,” you tease, pulling on your boots.

Ash gives a half-hearted chuckle in response. “You look nice,” he compliments you quietly.

You flash him a pleasant but puzzled smile; something’s off with him, you don’t think he’s ever said you look “nice” as long as you’ve known him and he never passes up a chance to banter with you.

He makes small talk but you notice the way his fingers are fiddling with the label of his water bottle and how his eyes hesitate to look for yours. By the time you’re ready, he’s nonchalantly mentioned the flowers three times and asked you to a party next weekend, when he usually never plans that far in advance.

You pause gathering your things as you realize what’s happening. He's fucking jealous, you amusedly think to yourself. Part of you wants to tease him about it but there’s an underlying sense of nervousness to it that’s almost sweet. How could something as innocuous as a vase of flowers shake this man’s seemingly endless confidence?

"I wasn't trying to be vague before," you tell him. “I helped someone move last weekend; only a couple people showed up to help, it was pretty intense. That’s what the flowers are for.”

“Let’s do it again sometime, winky face?” He raises his eyebrows, casually drinking from his water bottle to show how unbothered he is.

You make a face. “I should’ve figured you’d read the card,” you tease. “I joked that the move was so brutal I’d sooner buy him the apartment than help again when the lease is up.” To punctuate your story, you walk over, peck him on the lips and affectionately straighten his shirt collar. “I don't know what you're thinking but I can tell you you’re probably overthinking it.”

Ash tightens his jaw and runs his tongue over his lips as he listens to you. "Didn't even know you liked flowers," he shrugs as you smile softly at him.

When he doesn’t immediately follow you out of the bedroom, you know his wheels must still be turning. You get your keys out of the dish and text your friends that you’re leaving now. He finally appears and just as you’re about to tell him you really need to get going, he grabs you and gives you the most over the top, absurdly intense kiss of your life. One hand twisted in your hair, one hand pressing you against him, tongue claiming your mouth as his. He's clearly trying to prove a point - what and to who, you’re not quite sure - but he certainly proves it.

He pulls away, fire in his eyes and casually says, “You lock up, I’ll get the car started?” as if nothing happened.

You stand there, stunned for a moment, quickly attempt to repair your smudged lipstick and lock the door to meet him outside.

The car ride is mostly silent, save for the radio. Ashton plants his hand on your thigh the second you get in the car and it doesn’t budge the entire time. When you grab drinks with your friends at the bar, his hand never leaves your back. During dinner, his arm snakes around your waist the second you slide in the booth next to him. To the outsider this would seem possessive and you're guessing it partly is but you think you’re pretty good at reading Ash at this point and to you, it feels more complex than that.

He’s still his engaging and charming self, chatting endlessly with everyone about everything but you can tell he’s in his head and you’re not entirely sure why. You recall how unnerved he seemed back at your apartment. You think about the number of times he’s leaned in to whisper a joke or comment in your ear tonight. You feel the gentle way his fingers brush over your hip while you wait for the check and you start connecting the dots.

It may have started with jealousy but this goes deeper than some basic macho territorial bullshit. You’re fascinated as you consider this development. He never seemed to feel angry or betrayed at the thought of someone else holding your attention; he just seemed troubled. Sad. And now it feels like he’s constantly reassuring himself of your presence, like as long as he keeps touching you, keeps engaging you, you’re undeniably there with him.

Your head swims as you consider the implications of this. You never doubted you both cared for each other but is it more serious than that to him? To you? You focus on him talking with your friends and you don’t realize you’re staring until you feel his eyes on you. He looks at you with amused expectancy; you just shake your head and smile fondly.

Your friends say their goodbyes and you start down the street back to the car park. Ash reaches for your hand and it kind of breaks your heart so when you stop to wait for the crosswalk, you place his arm around you and snuggle into him. He looks at you quizzically, as if he's surprised by your affection. He truly has no idea how transparent he is sometimes, you think to yourself as you mumble something about being chilly.

As you make your way down the block, he starts chattering away about the night’s events and with each comment you burrow further into his embrace, appreciating the cool night air and the sound of his voice.

By time you’ve reached the parking structure, you’ve got your arms wrapped around him, inside his jacket. He sways with you as you wait for the elevator, “Am I dropping you back home?”

Your answer comes out muffled as you’ve decided to take this opportunity to bury your face in his chest. “Your place.”

He kisses the top of your head and clarifies, “Thought you had work tomorrow?”

As the elevator doors open, you say, “But your place is closer now” with a glimmer in your eye and you pull him, first into the elevator and then into you. You give him a kiss reminiscent of his over the top, absurdly intense one from earlier but yours has no underlying point to prove. You’ve decided you need him, only him and you want to be sure he knows that.

The car ride is once again silent but this time there is a different tension in the air. His hand finds its way onto your thigh again, though this time it’s definitely a few inches higher. You can’t help but study him, as breathtaking as ever, lit only by the glow of evening LA traffic. You’re now almost as lost in your thoughts as you know he was earlier. He was so perturbed by those goddamn flowers, why? If you had found a gift from someone you didn’t know at his place, would you be feeling the same way? You’re pretty sure you would.

He catches your gaze at a stop light or two but he doesn’t say anything, just gives your thigh a reassuring squeeze and turns back to the road. As soon as he shuts the engine off, you’re practically lunging across the car to get your lips back on his again. He indulges you for a minute and then breezily laughs, “let’s get you inside then” as he pries you off of him.

Once inside, it’s a dizzying clash of teeth, tongues, lips and limbs as you stumble up the stairs into the bedroom. You’re not sure exactly when it happened but suddenly he’s in his underwear and has you naked and spread in front of him.

He runs his fingers through your folds as he looks at you with a predatory glint in his eyes, asking, “Wet already, huh? This all for me?”

That’s apparently the extent of his teasing mood as he dives right in and starts eating you out before you even think to answer. You gasp and immediately tangle your fingers in his hair as he ruthlessly attacks your clit, first swirling it with the tip of his tongue and then sucking it in between his lips. The way he alternates broad strokes of his wide tongue with deliberate rapid fire flicks has you whimpering faster than you thought possible.

“Been wanting to taste you all evening, beautiful, thought we’d never get away,” he murmurs as he teasingly presses light kisses into your thighs.

“Ash…” you start, still attempting to catch your breath. “What is going on with you tonight…”

He chuckles and replies, “Says the woman who practically jumped me in the parking lot after dinner?” He pushes himself up your body to kiss you deeply, both of you groaning as you taste yourself on his tongue.

He pulls away just enough to continue, “Says the woman who could barely wait for me to put the car in park before she pounced again?”  He kisses you even harder, distracting you enough that you don’t notice his hands have begun to wander until you feel two fingers slowly dragging against your pussy.

You break the kiss with a moan and Ashton seamlessly moves his mouth to your neck, giving several teasing bites and nips before he raises his head to look directly at you and say, “Says the woman who I suspect has been dripping for me since the kiss I gave her before we left for dinner?”

He pushes his fingers into you with ease and expertly starts working them. “Maybe even before? Has my girl been wanting me this badly all night?”

You feel your skin flush as you hear the words “my girl” come out of his mouth; this is new. That’s as far as your thought process gets because then he’s curling his fingers and all you can focus on is the way your walls are beginning to twitch and tighten around them, “Ash… please…” is the best response you can manage.

His hand that’s not buried inside you traces down your throat and over your breasts. “Please what, baby? Think you know you’re gonna have to do better than that,” he teases.

“... Want to cum… PLEASE…” you breathlessly pant out, rocking your hips against his fingers which have slowed to an agonizingly slow pace, keeping you just on the edge of orgasm.

“Oh don’t worry, pretty girl, you’ll cum alright,” he teases with his bottom lip fixed in a mock pout. “Gotta make it up to you, I obviously should’ve filled you the second I walked through your door tonight,” he speeds his fingers back up and adds his thumb into the mix, rubbing it against your clit, causing your legs to shake.

You grip his arm that’s working you over, digging your nails into his bicep as your entire body tenses and you pulse around his fingers. “That’s my girl, that was a good one, wasn’t it?” he coos as he pumps his fingers into you a few more times for good measure.

You can only breathe heavily in response; your mind and body are both reeling. There it is again: my girl. That kiss by your door, his hands on you all evening, now my girl. You’re not sure if it’s intentional or if his subconscious is giving him away, but he’s claiming you. You’re much more comfortable with that idea than you thought you’d be.

The second it seems like you’ve started to catch your breath, Ashton withdraws his fingers from your body and sucks them clean, exaggeratedly groaning his approval. You reach out for him, hoping for a kiss but before you even realize what’s happening, he’s back between your legs lapping away at your center again. “ASH, what the FUCK,” you cry out, legs involuntarily closing around him.

Unfazed, he easily spreads your legs back how he wants them and looks up at you, face obscenely wet and glistening from his task. “You tasted so good on my fingers, I wanted more straight from the source,” he shrugs and immediately returns to his mission.

You involuntarily let out a tiny moan at his remark before tugging on his hair to get his attention. “Too much” is all you manage to get out before he licks at your clit in just the right way to make you jolt and let out a guttural groan.

He pulls back and snickers against your thigh. “That’s what I thought, do I know my girl or do I know my girl? Know when you're ready for another one before you even do, know how to leave you speechless with just a couple flicks of my tongue,” he sneers, rapidly fluttering over your clit in demonstration. “Know this pussy even better than you do, bet you’ve never had anyone else who can say that, have you?”  

You grab onto his shoulder and moan as soon as you hear that magic phrase, my girl, again. Ash’s dirty talk has always been a huge turn on for you but tonight the language is as telling as it is arousing: you are his. You decide that you like it, you want that and you like that he wants that.

You sigh deeply, disappointed but not surprised, when he pulls away just as you feel your climax begin to build. He kisses up your stomach until he reaches your tits, spreading sloppy kisses over one while he squeezes the other, rolling over the nipple with his thumb. You’re not quite sure why tenderness is your instinctual response but you go with it, softly running one hand through his hair and stroking his face with the other.

He looks up at you and his eyes are as breathtaking as always, glowing with both a familiar fire and also a softness you’ve only seen on occasion. You can’t help but smile as you tell him, “You’re unbelievable.”

“Is that a complaint or a compliment, my dear?” He asks with a smirk as he turns his attention to your other breast, repeating his actions.

“Not sure… both maybe…” you reply, in a dreamy haze of fondness, amusement and desire.

“I’ll take it,” he mutters against your skin. Satisfied with his work on your chest, you see him start to move back down between your legs.

“Ashhhh… no, need more,” you object, attempting to pull him back up to you.

“That’s what I’m tryna to give you here, baby,” he chuckles, allowing you to pull him up to your lips.

You frantically kiss him and grabble between your bodies until your hand finds his erection still confined in his boxers and you give it a squeeze. “GOD, Ash, honestly I just want your cock more than anything right now,” you hate how pitiful you sound but you also hope it’s enough that he’ll give you what you want.

Instead he looks you directly in the eye, grins and taunts, “But when don’t you want my cock more than anything?”

He impishly pecks your nose and confidently states, “First you cum on my tongue. THEN you can cum on my cock.” And with that, he’s suddenly peppering quick kisses all the way back down your body, musing almost to himself, “No one else can make you feel this way, can they, darlin’? Know how to get you off like this? Gets you this needy?”

Ashton dives back in with a renewed sense of purpose and has you cumming within moments; you swear at a certain point you can feel him grin against your sensitive core, clearly reveling in the nonsensical murmurs you don’t even realize you’re letting out until you hear them yourself.

“Good girl, sound so pretty when you cum for me, taste even better,” he praises, pressing a final kiss to the inside of each of your thighs before he’s on his feet, finally stripping off his underwear and retrieving a condom from the bedside table.

You’re tired from his teasing but the anticipation of finally having him inside you fuels your decision to snatch the package from him and begin tugging at his cock as soon as he’s within arms reach. You roll the condom on him as he tucks your matted hair behind your ear and says, “Been so good tonight, baby, you decide how you want it.”

You purse your lips in amusement because while his offer appears generous, based on the tone of the evening and the charged mood you're both in, there's no way he doesn't already know you're about to choose his preferred position.

You reach up and kiss him lustfully one more time before you dramatically turn over and raise yourself up on all fours, looking over your shoulder at him with an expectant look. He raises an eyebrow at you and you playfully roll your eyes at him, "Are you going to pretend like you're surprised or are you gonna fuck me?"

He grips your ass cheeks, kneading them in each hand, fondly clicking his tongue, "Cum twice already and still so impatient.”

You expect him to tease you; he always does and after the evening you’ve had, you assume you’re in for another tortuous display of dominance so it takes you by surprise when he’s suddenly sliding in to you. You hear his breathing become noticeably more pronounced as he buries himself and his fingers lightly trace down your spine, his actions pausing for just a beat longer than you'd like.

Without even giving it a second thought, you start eagerly moving against him. "Need me that badly you can't even wait one second for me to catch my breath?" He taunts in a voice that's both amused and aroused. He wraps his hand in your hair and yanks hard. "So desperate for me to wreck you, gotta fuck yourself on my cock?" He punctuates his question with a swift smack to your ass.

You attempt to scoff at his teasing but a simple, strained “FUCK” leaves your lips instead as you steadily rock yourself back against him. He doesn’t seem to mind your initiative, responding to your movements with approving groans and keeping his large hands occupied by covering your ass, first with sharp slaps followed by firm yet tender rubbing to soothe your reddening skin.

You hear yourself chanting “More. Please. More.” in a staccato rhythm matching the way you’re throwing your body back on him. He complies with your request, hand coming down on your backside multiple times in rapid succession and you cry out in satisfaction. You love the sting but you think you love the fact that you’ll be wearing his marks for days even more.

A particularly strong blow has your arms giving out, dropping your upper body down to the bed with a moan. He takes this as you handing over the reins and quickly moves his hands from your ass to your hips, grip digging into your skin as he takes over and starts pounding into you.  

“Goddamn you wrap around me so good, it’s like you were made to take my cock weren’t you, beautiful?” His praise has both your mind and body humming; it’s been a long evening and although you’ve already had two orgasms, you find yourself overwhelmed by the undeniable need to cum with him inside you.

He pushes down on the small of your back to pop your ass and fuck you at a better angle but the way his fingers firmly but gently fall on your skin reminds you of how he touched you earlier in the evening. In the restaurant. On the street. In the car. Always wanting to feel you, always confirming your presence, always reassuring the both of you that your rightful place was with him.

An unexpected wave of affection washes over you and suddenly you’re needing him in a much different way. You manage to feebly say, “Ash? Babe?” as you muster the strength to raise yourself back on one arm while you fling the other behind you, blindly searching for him.

You almost never call him pet names so it immediately jumps out at him; he notices the shifted tone in your voice and halts his actions. You turn your head to meet his gaze as he pants, “You alright? What’s happening?”

Your hand finally finds his resting on your hip and you give it a squeeze, “Changed my mind. Need more of you on me.”

The confusion and concern that were clouding his features softens into something familiar yet somehow undefinable as he gingerly pulls out and leans forward to give you the softest kiss you’ve received all evening. “Well, let’s do that then.”

You spin around to face him and sit back on your knees, pulling him into another soft, slow kiss, brushing his hair off his forehead. He basks in your tender attention for a moment before he’s guiding you back down onto the bed, situating himself to fully lay on top of you, between your legs, careful not to break your kiss until you’re ready.

He slips back inside you and before he even gets the chance to ask, a breathy “Yessss” is all the confirmation he needs to know that this is what you were craving. You wrap your legs around him and run your hands across his broad back, “Just wanted to feel more,” you explain.

Your eyes are closed, relishing the feel of his weight on you and the stretch of him inside you, so you don’t notice the way he silently studies you for a moment before he lifts himself up and starts thrusting into you again.

For all the filth that’s come out of your mouths this evening, this round finds you both unusually quiet, letting your joined symphony of moans, groans, “yeah”s and “fuck”s say everything that needs to be expressed.

You feel him reach for your hand and move it to rest above you on the pillow, interlacing his fingers with yours; you respond with a squeeze and then one up him by turning your head to nip at the moon tattoo closest to you, simply because you can. He’s left his signature up and down your body tonight, it’s only fair you get to leave a small token of your appreciation on his.  

He hisses at the feel of your teeth lightly grazing his skin. “Come on, darlin’, play nice.”

“Since when do we do that?” You breathlessly reply and then bask in the glow of the grin you receive in response.

Still smiling, Ash shakes his head. “If you’re able to make smartass remarks like that, clearly I’m not doing my job here.”

He takes one of your legs from around his waist and lifts your thigh back towards your chest; your mouth opens to moan but nothing happens as he pulls almost entirely out and then fucks into you so much slower and deeper than before. He chuckles, “That’s more like it.”

You consider rolling your eyes at his teasing or panting out another sassy quip at him but the way he’s moving in you feels so otherworldly you honestly don’t care about anything else. You grab on to his forearm and dig your nails in.

“Feeling good, beautiful?” He reaches between you and mercilessly rubs your clit. “Who’s making you feel this good?”

The sound emanating from your throat might be his name but mainly sounds like a series of whimpers.

He rubs harder and thrusts deeper. “Didn’t hear you, speak up. Whose cock makes you feel like this?” You continue crying out nonsensically as you feel yourself on the verge of your third orgasm.

You need him close so you pull him down to you for a kiss. He sloppily licks into your mouth, panting against your lips. He’s almost as gone as you are. You bite at his bottom lip and say, with a bit more desperation than you anticipated, “Gonna cum for you, Ash.” He nods understandingly and pecks your lips once more.

His lips move to your neck as his thrusts speed up again; he’s determined now and you’re moaning in earnest. You feel that familiar burning in your core and your eyes instinctively flutter shut, savoring the fall into bliss.

"Uh-uh, eyes open, baby. Want you to look at me. Need to be sure you know whose cock it is you're cumming on,” Ashton commands.

You force yourself to focus on him as you start to unravel, your entire body on fire, tensing deliciously; your mind is screaming his name but only indecipherable whines fall from your lips. Ashton is relentless as he fucks you through it, his thrusts never slow; no matter how impossibly tight your pussy squeezes around his cock, he never stops driving into you even rougher and deeper than before.

His eyes remain locked on yours, making the entire experience feel unbelievably more intimate. You swear you can feel every pent up emotion from the evening - the jealousy, the worry, the possessiveness, the passion, the… love? - in his gaze and you’ve never had a more intense orgasm, physically or emotionally.

As you come down from your high, you hear him praising you, “Yes, baby... love making you cum… you always give so much… always such a good girl for me.” His words alone would've earned a reaction from you but he sounds as wrecked as you feel, causing you to emit a deep and breathy moan at this realization. He’s panting so heavily you know his release won’t be far behind.

You feel like you're mad with desire at this point; you're beyond satisfied and you know you couldn't possibly cum again but you still feel like you're wanting something, you still need more of him. Feeling emboldened by watching Ash lose control and the euphoria still pulsing through your body, you find yourself digging your nails into his arms and muttering, “Want your cum, Ash.”

He lets out a grunt as his hips slam into yours. “Oh, you’re definitely about to get it,” he smirks.

You sigh partly out of exasperation and partly out of arousal for what you’re about to request. “No, Ash, I want it,” you pant. “Want you to cum on me, make me yours.”

His hips slow as he processes your words. “Fuck” is all he can manage to growl under his breath in response. He pulls out and you whimper at both the absence of him and the anticipation of what’s going to happen.

Ashton peels off the condom and you can’t take your eyes off him as he wraps his long fingers around his cock and begins to stroke himself. It only takes a few tugs before he’s gasping and murmuring your name and you have to moan along with him when you feel his warm cum spurting onto your stomach and chest. He maintains a firm grip as the rhythm of his hand varies, making sure he squeezes out every last drop for you.

He hangs his head in exhaustion for a beat and then takes in the sight of you: fucked out, chest heaving, painted in his release. You catch him staring and offer him a tired yet mischievous smile; he seems to pick up on your wavelength and smirks as he runs a finger through the substance on your breasts and brings it up to your lips for you to suck off.

“Jesus, baby,” he groans, shaking his head almost as if he can’t believe his eyes. “Don’t move.” He affectionately rubs your thigh a few times before he moves off the bed and ducks into the bathroom, returning seconds later with a wet washcloth.

He climbs back next to you on the bed and presses a passionate kiss to your lips before he starts gently cleaning you up; it’s quiet for a few moments and the intimacy is not lost on either of you. You reach up and brush his wild hair from his eyes. “Hey,” you start, fondly.

He smiles much softer than he has all night. “Hey yourself,” he giggles.

You pause and feel a bit of leftover boldness coursing through you, so you comment, “You seem like you’ve got something on your mind.”

Ash bites his lip and exhales deeply, clearly considering how to answer. He looks down, avoiding your eyes, and fusses over a mark on your hip that’s sure to form into a gnarly bruise by morning. “Sorry if I got a little crazy tonight, I know I‘m usually better at checking in with you,” he muses.

You sit up and squeeze his shoulder. You feel the urge to reassure him but you can tell he’s on the verge of opening up and you don’t want to derail him. You’re trying to find the courage to prompt him further when he surprises you by admitting, “It just really fuckin’ got to me when I thought... “ he trails off, looking away again. “I got weirded out about those flowers and I shouldn’t have. And I’m sorry.” He tosses the washcloth onto the nightstand in exasperation.

You give him a faint smile. “Ash, I told you ---”

“I know and I believe you but I just started thinking... and then I couldn’t stop,” he confesses quietly. He stands up and pulls on a pair of shorts before busying himself by starting to tidy the bed.

You excuse yourself to the bathroom. You figure he could use some time to process whatever it is he’s still trying to work out so you wash your face, brush your teeth and slip on a t-shirt of his you find discarded on the counter.

You venture back into the bedroom and find him tossing the pillows back onto the bed after having changed the sheets. He still looks lost inside his thoughts and you yearn to ease his mind. You walk over and hug him from behind, burying your face into his back; he gives your arms an affectionate squeeze.

“I know we don’t really talk about this kind of thing but I feel like you should know I haven’t seen anybody else since we started talking,” you offer, your confession muffled with your face still pressed against his skin. “It hasn’t even been a conscious thing, I just… haven’t been interested, I guess.”

Ashton pulls you to his side and kisses the top of your head. “Thank you for telling me that,” he murmurs, rubbing your back.

You quickly come around and kneel on the bed in front of him so that you’re at his eye level and you wrap your arms around his neck. “And I liked everything that happened tonight; you know I would have told you otherwise,” you assert. He nods in acknowledgement so you continue, “I like hearing you tell me I’m your girl, I like when you make me feel like I’m yours... ”

You feel tempted to look away, to fidget with the necklace he’s wearing but you resist. You look straight into his hazel eyes, full of warmth and attentiveness, and state, “You know, I could be yours, if that’s something you decide you want.”

Ash only lets your words hang in the air for a split second before he wraps his arms around you tightly and kisses you slowly; it’s intense and passionate but not in the same over the top, cocky way that he kissed you back at your apartment. This kiss is also trying to prove something but it’s a message meant only for you and he’s taking his time to make his point clear.

When your mouths finally separate, you take a deep breath and steady yourself on his arms. You open your eyes at him and grin. “Was that your way of asking?”

—-

Crystal’s tag list:

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Click here if you’d like to be tagged for future fics and click here if your name is on my list but crossed out (Tumblr won’t let me @ you)

[makeste]

I was originally going to send this message declaring my undying love for your metas and chapter reviews aND THEN - AND THEN MAKESTE - I READ THE ANSWER WHERE YOU SAID YOU WERE ARO AND THAT MAKES ME SOOOOO HAPPY. I'm aroace and it is SO FRUSTRATING to want to consume platonic or familial interaction between people and CONSTANTLY only get romantic or sexual. THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR EVERYTHING YOU CONTRIBUTE

woooo up top! solidarity lol.

for me it’s like... I don’t know if “frustrating” is the word I would use, but I do wish there was more gen out there. and that’s also something I’ve felt awkward about wanting in the past, because my early fandom years took place in a time where slash was much less of an everyday commonplace thing than it is now, and liking it was still a fairly controversial thing. the internet was a much more openly homophobic place than it is now. like, picture the purity police of modern day tumblr, but if they attacked any kind of non-heterosexual relationship as being sick and perverted and wrong. that was pretty much the general vibe. this was before AO3, and people who wrote slash often didn’t post it on ff.net and only posted it to their own private blogs and/or locked and moderated communities instead just so they wouldn’t be harassed. and there was absolutely no canon representation out there at all, or next to none. it was very much a “[rolls eyes] oh the yaoi fangirls are at it again” sort of thing where non-cishet relationships in fiction and fanfiction were at best not taken seriously at all, and at worst were treated with outright scorn and disgust.

and so like, with this being a common attitude at the time, I felt guilty for not always wanting to read slash myself. like, I don’t mind reading about romantic relationships at all, but for me there also has to be some other kind of element in play as well, or else it’s just not going to click for me. if a fic is just romance, just a lot of pining and slow burn stuff without anything else really going on in the plot, I just get bored and disinterested. I almost want to use the word tired, even though I��m not sure that makes much sense. I just can’t connect to the emotions, and so I disengage pretty quickly. and so I tend to steer clear of time-honored fandom staples like coffee shop AUs or And They Were Roommates, just because for me there’s rarely anything there for me to latch onto. I like angst, but I can’t relate to “so and so doesn’t feel the same way about me”, or “I want to be with them so bad but I don’t know how to confess”, or “they’re with someone else and it hurts like crazy every time I see them and know we can’t be together”, because none of those are emotions that I have ever personally felt, and I just can’t make myself feel them. what I can relate to are things like “this person makes me feel safe”, or “I feel a strong connection to this person”, or “I trust this person more than anyone else” because those feelings aren’t exclusively romantic in nature. I can relate to closeness and caring and love and affection and trust, but what I can’t relate to is the feeling of having a single person occupy all of your thoughts all the time, and very badly wanting to be the most important thing in their life as well, and feeling incomplete otherwise.

but anyway I spiraled away from the point I was trying to get to, which is that for a long time I actually felt guilty about feeling this way. because even though it’s rare to find fanworks where gen/platonic relationships are at the center, actual canon is chock full of said relationships. and so it’s like, what right do I even have to complain when I get to read all the time about so and so being friends, but the people who actually want them to be in a relationship in the actual canon so rarely get to see that actually happen. because that much has not changed in the past 20 years, even though society has become far more accepting of LGBTQ+ relationships. most canons are still far more likely to tease a non-hetero ship -- on purpose, even, hence why queerbaiting is a thing -- than actually commit to it. and so I often feel like I have no right to voice my desire for more genfic, because genfic has never faced the same kind of scrutiny as slashfic. gen has always been acceptable, and there is plenty of canon representation of platonic and non-romantic relationships, and so it’s not something I have any business whining about.

and even now I feel fairly uncomfortable voicing this lol. I write almost exclusively genfic myself, and up until very recently, I’ve always defined gen in my head as being just a lack of romantic or sexual content, rather than being its own distinct category. I think that’s one of the reasons it took me so long to realize I was aro (that, and I’d honestly never even come across the term until just a few years ago). for me, my lack of interest in romantic affection always felt more like a lack of identity rather than an identity in and of itself. I always felt like I was missing something. and for a very long time it never occurred to me that this might be a permanent thing; I just figured, okay, I just haven’t had this feeling yet. it just hasn’t happened for me yet. but eventually it would, and I just hadn’t met the right person, or whatever. but it was never anything I particularly wanted, and I never felt like I was missing out on anything by not having it. I never felt any kind of longing for it or felt incomplete without it. I was actually perfectly content!

but because society treats romantic orientation as the norm and places such a huge emphasis on it, I still had the uncomfortable feeling in the back of my head that if I never fell in love with someone and never wound up having a relationship with someone, my life would somehow be less meaningful and whole. like, we’re raised to think that romantic love is basically the pinnacle of the human experience, the purest and truest emotion that anyone can feel. and at the same time, there’s this idea that a life without that kind of love is just sad and unfulfilling and tragic. and so for a very long time my experience with my own aromanticism was characterized by me thinking of it as a lack of something that everyone else said was very important. and it took a long time to realize that that wasn’t the case, and that it was a valid orientation all its own and not just a matter of me being deficient in some way. and that was actually such a relief to finally come to terms with. I can be whole and complete on my own and still have a rich and fulfilling human experience even if I never experience romantic love, and that’s fine. I’m not missing anything. I’m not wrong for feeling like I’m not missing anything. it’s fine to be content with just me as I am. like, holy shit. and that was such a weight off my shoulders to finally get that.

I once wrote a fic which I was and still am very proud of. it was a genfic, and it had a really intricate plot with a big twist at the very end. and there was a ton of emotion in it, and it got very intense at times, because these were two characters who cared a lot about each other and would literally die for each other if they had to, and I’d put them in a situation where that possibility was very much looming over their heads at every turn. and I really put everything I had into trying to convey that kind of bond as strongly as possible. like I poured a ton of my heart and soul into that fic. and the responses were almost universally positive and kind and made me really happy.

there was one response though, that still sticks with me to this day. it was by and large very positive, just like the others. but it ended with a single sentence that, at the time, kind of just lowkey gutted me. Not gonna lie though, would have loved some slash in there.

like, that just cut me. way more than this person actually intended, I think. I’m pretty sure they just meant it as an offhanded comment, not even a concrit or anything. just “haha would have loved it if they’d kissed though lol.” but it stung. because this was something I’d put every ounce of emotion that I could conjure up into. and even though it wasn’t mean to be hurtful in any way, to me that comment read as “this is still missing something.” because there was no romance, the fic was incomplete. the characters’ feelings were incomplete. even though I’d struggled so much to convey all of these complex emotions which to me were so real and powerful, and even though the comment even acknowledged that I had by and large done so effectively, to me the single takeaway that stuck was that the feelings were less meaningful because there was no romance.

and that felt like a failing on my part. I even apologized for it. and here we are, ten years later, and that comment still pops up in my head any time I feel the urge to talk about a popular ship which I support but which I also enjoy as just a friendship. “just” a friendship. I still feel guilt over that. I still feel this urge to overexplain that I’m not trying to invalidate the actual romantic ship. I worry that I’d be perceived as ungrateful and/or a bad ally if I ever just came out and said “I wish there was more gen” like you were able to say so freely, anon. I worry about people getting offended if I were to say “I headcanon so and so as being aroace” because it might be viewed as an attack on their ships, or as latent homophobia, or something. like I have this paranoid fear that people might take it as me being puritanical and all “oh no, icky sex” or whatever, and so I end up just never bringing it up at all.

and that’s the thing about aromanticism, though; it’s so easy to just never talk about it at all, because for so many people it is just defined as a lack of something, rather than a something all on its own. it’s so easy for it to be something you just never bring up, and which just kind of quietly exists as the boring, bland, inoffensive yet uninteresting lack of a relationship; the default blank slate that most everyone is dying to fill in as soon as possible, except for you. and I’ve gone on thinking about it that way myself for so long that I’m still struggling now to sort out how to embrace it as an actual identity. it’s something I still have a lot of work to do on I guess.

anyway! so that all got very long and rambling and personal, far more so than I intended; clearly I have a lot of pent up thoughts and feelings about this lol. I guess I probably could stand to talk about it more, since the evidence would indicate that I clearly want to. but eh, baby steps. but anyways you are super valid anon and thank you so much for the love and comments. <3

[whiteasy]

CW: Panic Attack. Smoking.

Set in a canon-divergent where both Reiner and Bertholdt make it back to Marley after RTS.

Reibert & Gallibert.

--------

Reiner didn’t have much hope almost for anything. There were only a few things that kept him grounded; Gabi and the kids’ cheerful smiles and innocent like laughter, being finally home after a long five years spent on that cursed island.

And Bertholdt, who also made it home with him.

His partner, his friend–his dearest friend–and sometimes, during moments Reiner tries to not let his mind linger on for more than a second, even more.

He was often tempted to try and share a smidge of what he felt for the other man with someone he could trust. Pieck came first to his mind but, shame and self-loath often held him back.

Talking about it with the man in question was out of the equation. For so many reasons. Many of which revolved around Bertholdt’s exclusive interest in the opposite gender, his so far never-refuted interest in a five feet tall blond whom they’ve yet to bring back home (another reason why Reiner would never try to rob Annie or Bertholdt of their chance to be together, not until he made sure she was alive, unscathed and home).

However, even when he was feeling selfish enough to want Bertholdt for himself, there was always one line he could never cross. One conviction that always managed to stop him from even alluding to his feelings for the brunet. One that made dread settle in the pit of his stomach, and made it hard to breathe at times.

The thought – no, the unyielding conviction that Bertholdt had suffered enough because of him during their time in Paradis. That Bertholdt deserved someone much, much better.

He didn’t know who Bertholdt exactly deserved. Reiner often tried to evade the notion altogether as it made his heart clench at the grim reminder that it would—should—never be him. But he knew for certain there was one person he would’ve never thought about being the right fit for his dearest friend.

Not until that day.

He didn’t have a particular reason to trudge toward Bertholdt (and Galliard’s) shared room. But when did he ever have a reason to want to talk to his best friend?

He was about to put his hand on the doorknob when it froze mid-air at the muffled but, unmistakable moan from behind the wooden door.

Initially, Reiner tried to not think anything of it. Maybe Galliard just sneaked a girl from downtown or some colleagues of theirs–whoever she was. As long as it’s not what Reiner thinks is happening.

The latter hope soon disintegrated when he finally made out Bertholdt’s voice, alongside Galliard’s.

Reiner couldn’t bear to stand there any longer, not when their moans and grunts were growing louder despite their earlier attempts to be quiet. Reiner retracted his hand, as if scalded, before he turned on his heels and practically ran outside of headquarters. He doesn’t remember who he saw on his way outside, what he might’ve said or done. All he could remember was there suddenly wasn’t enough air in the world to breathe.

He doesn’t know how much time he had spent overcoming his panic, just that the night was eerily quiet but the air wasn’t as fresh anymore. Not with the puff of smoke he’s been exhaling from his second cigarette. He knew he should go back to his room, because they had an early meeting tomorrow with the general and it was probably late by now. He knew he’d also struggle to fall asleep, haunted by the knowledge of whom Bertholdt had finally deemed worthy of his love.

For some reason, Reiner felt like he should’ve seen it coming. After all, wasn’t Galliard better than he was, almost on every aspect?

Perhaps it had been karma, for causing his brother’s death. For snatching away the Armored Titan from him when Reiner didn’t deserve it in the first place.

Galliard managed to get back at him in the worst yet, most fitting way Reiner could possibly imagine.

------

This is just a snippet from the whole fiction. I haven't decided how it ends yet but, hopefully i'll be getting back on it sometimes soon.

I love both Gallibert and Reibert but i don't know what took me a few months ago to write this 🙈 Sorry for the angst x

[hecohansen31]

Not The Right Time

The Story of How She Found Out:

Ivar+Reader (Modern! AU)

(Chapter 1: The Story of How We Ended Up There)

(Chapter 2: The Story of How He Found Out)

(A/N): Hello there, lovelies!

I hope you’ll like this chapter!

I haven’t been feeling the best lately mentally for various reasons, so youd feedback would mean the world to me.

I also wanted to say that like with ‘To Kill A King’ this was supposed to end in a much different (and longer note) but I just felt like it was better to cute it and analyse more in the following chapters.

As always: your feedback motivates me to write faster, so if you leave anything, such as an heart, a reblog or a comment you’ll have my heart for ever and ever!

Have a nice day and reading!

SUMMARY: You are slowly learning to trust Ivar, when he is brought apart by some interesting news and a difficult choice: revealing the truth or continue on lying?

WORDS: 8, 5 K

WARNINGS: Pregnancy, Unexpected Pregnancy, Pregnancy at a Young Age, Mention of Abortion (and Being Harsh About it), Heartbreak and General Angst, Abandonement Issues and Being A Single Mom, Mention of Infertility, Talk about Custody Battles and Custody, Fighting and Angst, Use of The Word Cripple.

He remembered the day he had decided that he had wanted to be something more than simply friends with you.

You had been best friends since you were nothing more than children: you had always been the only one who had softly interacted with him, the only child of a couple who had just transferred in the small city, and not many people seemed open enough to start friendship.

Hence you had been pushed together and had seen each other grow, till the day Ivar had looked at you differently.

He remembered perfectly the way you had dressed, because it had been the first time you had shown yourself at school with a skirt.

It had been the first day of the third year of high school, it was hot enough to make everyone wary of coming back to school and of wearing anything that went below the knee, hence you had solved the problem wearing a simple straight skirt.

Light blue with a checkered fantasy, matched with a blue blouse in the perfect ‘schoolgirl’ style, nothing extremely seductive or surprising, hadn’t you worn hoodies and graphic t-shirt for all your life, till that day.

And Ivar had realized that you weren’t a simple friend anymore, you were a girl.

You had seemed uncomfortable in the entire ensemble, even more when Hvitserk had joked with you, asking you ‘when had you suddenly grown tits?’.

You had just tried to cover you up for the rest of the day, even going as far as to ask Ivar if it was too much.

And part of him thought it was too much, because he didn’t want guys to see those ‘naked’ long legs exposed, transformed from the gangly ones always covered with bruises from your clumsy behavior he was used to.

And even those curves as dangerous as a nightly road.

‘… I mean…’ he hadn’t been able to mumble something more than ‘… you look nice’.

And the fact that you still tortured him in his dreams with that smile you had given him after, was a further proof of how much he had felt for you, back then.

And how much you still had an impact on him like that.

He woke up, suddenly, sweating cold as he turned onto one side, sensing a body near him and he couldn’t help but think that it was you.

It had to be you.

Before anything sexual had happened, you had started sleeping together as soon as you could.

As a restless sleeper you were more comfortable tucked under Ivar’s arms, whereas he felt like there was a wonderful intimacy between you two, much better than anything sexual his brothers told him they did with their girlfriends.

And there was something inherently sensual in your soft voice in the morning, the hazed movements and the soft caresses, such as your nose brushing against his neck, or his hands around your hips, bringing you closer.

He was so lost in the entire dream that he didn’t realize immediately that the person beside him hadn’t your hair color, neither your face and your sweet smile.

It was Freydis, not you.

And he shouldn’t have been that disappointed.

He raised his body into an upright position, pain already shooting through his legs, signaling him that he wouldn’t have an easy day, even worsened by the fact that Freydis seemed to immediately understand his discomfort, waking up quickly after.

‘You shouldn’t wear the braces and you should use the wheelchair’ she always suggested on these days, even more if it was on the weekend, insisting they should have just laid in bed, peacefully.

But he just had this constant need to push and prove himself, to the point that rest wasn’t ever his priority even more when Freydis tended to him in that childish way that reminded him of his mother’s overbearing attentions.

Were you also that way with Eric?

From what he had seen the child had a large margin of freedom, maybe even more than he would have allowed, worried about the fact that he might end up hurt.

But wasn’t that the same reason he was chastising Freydis’ behavior?

Heahmund would have said he was a hypocrite.

About Heahmund, he should have spoken to him mostly to talk with him about the small progress he had made and ask for some tips on what to do next, although he knew that his future… was simply in your hands.

“I can bring you breakfast in bed” suggested Freydis, as she got up in her small white babydoll, the incarnation of naïve sensuality and still Ivar couldn’t feel as any man would have felt with such a woman.

“Thank you, sweetheart” he spoke, thankful for the absence of Freydis so he could talk with Heahmund and could reason on what to do about Eric and Freydis.

As much as he wanted nothing more than to keep the two worlds separated, he didn’t want to continue on lying to his fiancé, even more when she was undergoing expensive treatments to have his child.

But he thought he could push it back further, after the previous night you might not want to see him again and he might be forced to back off, as much as he hated the thought of it.

Even more now that he knew Eric.

The sweetness of that boy was a welcome change to the personality he had expected of a spoiled annoyed child, as he had been at his age, broken in by the exclusion and rejection of his fellow ‘friends’.

He hadn’t asked many questions to Eric about his life, not knowing if it was allowed and knowing that you wouldn’t have liked him snooping on your life, but he made a mental point to talk to him about it, if he ever met him again.

“Somebody is full of thoughts today” surprised him Freydis as she set down the breakfast tray onto the bed, between her and Ivar, taking the man’s hand softly “… something troubling you, my love?”.

“Just some things at the company” he replied, feeling bad for lying to her, but he didn’t know what he could say.

‘Hey babe, you know how I can’t get an erection for you? Well when I was in high school I could… and I got somebody pregnant’.

The worst thing ever was the fact that he knew how Freydis would have felt, like there was something wrong in her… and he knew all too well the feeling, so he didn’t want her to feel that way.

“You should ask them for some free time, they overwork you” suggested Freydis, kissing his hands.

Another reason why he loved Freydis so much was her continuous silent support, the way she would know how to make herself useful without getting on his nerves.

“… but then how would I be able to take care of you?” he smirked softly, a hand drifting onto her flat stomach “… and of our growing family?”.

Another flash of memory pushed your face on Freydis’ one as he imagined you with a full belly, the proof of your pregnancy shown as the bright smile of happiness on your face.

You definitely looked beautiful with a pregnant belly.

And so, would have Freydis.

“… want to relax helping me with some stuff for the wedding?” she suggested, a bright smile on her face, making one appear on Ivar’s, your face and your pregnant belly almost forgotten.

“… of course, sweetie”.

And as his eyes turned onto Freydis as she came in with invitation samples, a message from you came onto his phone.

Yeah, you were almost forgotten.

Almost.

---

Being a single mother could be extremely hectic, even more on the mornings when you had to juggle a job and your son had to go to school, a friend’s parent coming to pick him up on certain days since they had to take the same road to arrive to school.

What helped you was getting everything ready before ‘the beast’ woke up.

Your mother grabbed her coffee and her own breakfast, hiding in her room, a sign that she wasn’t ready to talk with you after what she had done the previous night.

You, yourself, didn’t know if you had to be thankful for what she had done or hate her for straight up disobeying the sole rule you had set up with her.

It was something that you would decide after the little chat that you were planning to have with Eric.

“Eric Luther (L/N) move your butt!” you screamed from the kitchen, hearing a matching giggle from the boy’s room, as you felt the familiar sound of your boy fumbling with his braces.

The doctor you had been seeing since Eric’s birth had suggested that you let your child do whatever he wanted to do on his own, trying to make him as autonomous as possible, as much as you could do that for a five-year-old.

As he came in the kitchen, stumbling and half asleep, rubbing on his eyes softly, you quickly moved to him, to tighten the braces as he leaned on comfortably against the furniture, till his crutch.

“… good morning, Flash” you joked softly, as you messed up your son’s sever bedhead, before kissing his nose, till he pushed you away, faking disgust, but you knew all too well that he was bashing in your affection “… slept well?”.

“Yeah” he spoke, although by his silence you were well aware, he wasn’t in the best mood, his legs probably hurting him “… can I have orange juice for breakfast?”.

“Of course, sweetie” you explained softly, moving back to the kitchen counter to fill a glass with orange juice as you offered him a plate with his favorite treat, adding some extra Nutella in his croissant “… can I get you anything else, my prince?”.

“Can I not go to school?” insisted the boy, with a way that was telling you he was taking advantage of the entire situation.

“Well… then also no soccer practice?” he immediately shook his head, promising that he was already feeling better “… can you sit, sweetie? I’d like to talk with you about something”.

“Of course, mommy” he quickly got up on the chair, using the crutch to keep himself up as he adjusted himself comfortably on the chair beside you, who had finished her own breakfast and was already in work clothes “… is it about your friend, Ivar?”.

“Yes” you almost hated that Eric had inherited Ivar’s skills for observing people “… did you… did you have fun with him?”.

You felt your palms growing sweaty as your breath came slower in your lungs, but you tried not to show anything.

“Yes!” happiness oozed from all his pores as he clapped his hands together “… we played Avengers and he told me more mythical stories! Did you know that once Thor dressed up as a bride to get his hammer back?!”.

The excitement in Eric’s eyes was contagious and you couldn’t help but smirk softly at him, daring a hand further to him to caress his face.

For a moment you almost wondered if his life would have been better if you had told Ivar you were expecting a child of his.

Maybe Eric would have smiled that sweetly each day.

“… would you…” your voice trembled lightly, and you tightened the grip on your hand on your thighs “… would you like to see him again?”.

“Yes yes yes!” screamed the boy, beating his fists against your kitchen table, making you laugh lightly to choke back tears as you made the boy rush back to dressing himself up to have a minute with yourself, collecting your body before you faced again your child.

Had it been truly a good choice to keep Ivar out of your child’s life?

Then you remembered the heartbreak he had put you through and thought about what it would feel for Eric to go through a similar ache, when he had already had so so many painful moments in his short life.

That’s why, no matter how good of an impression Ivar had done on your child, you couldn’t simply forgive him like that and made him come back in his life.

And you also had to take your time before you admitted to him that he was Ivar’s child.

Before you, yourself, started also thinking that way.

As Eric rushed out, saluting you shortly, your mother got out of her self-imposed exile, appearing on the doorway of your small kitchen as you rushed to make yourself busy.

“… you know that this doesn’t make you a bad mother” she commented setting herself on one chair, distractedly but searching your gaze.

“And what does that make you?” you couldn’t hold your tongue back anymore, a bit emotional about the entire admission of Eric and currently fighting with yourself about your own decision “… you sold me to the enemy”.

“I just realized before you that you can’t go on acting like you can do everything on your own” and as you were ready to reply to her, she shot you down with a quick look “… and don’t say that you have me, because as you have seen, I can’t always be there for you, one day…”.

“Do we seriously have to talk about it?!” you protested, tears now streaming freely on your face “… mom… I can’t…”.

“I know that you find it difficult to trust anybody but me, Eric or yourself, and I don’t blame you for that… after everything you have gone through… Ivar and your father… I know that it isn’t easy, but… you can’t simply destroy your health because of this” she reached for your hand, gripping tightly as you turned to face her “… you have to learn to let others in”.

“I am just scared that… maybe I did the wrong thing: Eric liked him… maybe I shouldn’t have ever ever hidden him” you set yourself down on the table the closest to your mother, leaning your head onto her shoulder “… maybe I just ruined his life…”.

“Sweetie calm down” she replied softly, pushing a hand through your hair “… us mothers do things on instinct which is something that always works, and we should never ever apologize for that! You did what you knew was right, which was pushing yourself away from the boy who had broken your heart”.

She softly pushed your hair away from your face, to look at you in your shared eyes.

“… now what has changed?” you asked, trembling.

“He isn’t a boy anymore, he is trying to make amend for what he broke and although what he broke might never become … whole again… you should allow him to help you, when you need it”.

“I don’t know…”.

“One step at the time” she spoke softly, before kissing the soft crown of your hair “… everything will be alright”.

You hoped so.

---

Ivar couldn’t help but be completely surprised by the fact that he was willingly coming to a doctor’s appointment, but you had asked him to come with you for a monthly check up, since he had wanted to be more present in his child’s life.

You and Eric hadn’t come yet, but he had also to admit that he had arrived early.

Still the knowledge of it hadn’t made him less nervous about it all.

And the fact that he hated waiting rooms at doctor’s office didn’t help.

He didn’t mind the doctors’ studios and hospitals, but waiting rooms made people look at him weirdly, as he shifted his braces against the ground in an attempt to calm himself.

To distract himself, he went through the plan you had elaborated with him to explain his presence to Eric: you had told him that since Ivar was a ‘senior’ at osteogenesis imperfecta might help the doctors with the right treatment for him.

He had also told Freydis to avoid calling him in the afternoon, having a big conference and being completely focused on it, since on it would depend the entire future of an important project.

The worst thing was that he hadn’t felt bad in the slightest to lie to her, being just happy of seeing again Eric.

He wouldn’t have chosen this doctor, but mostly because she focused onto pediatric medicine, but he could see where you came from, and what you could afford and couldn’t.

That’s why he had also decided to set up a deal for you about a financial help.

He knew you would be too stubborn to accept it, but you had a weak point: Eric.

He knew that the true reason why you were allowing him to see Eric was because he had been the one to insist with you to see Ivar again, and he couldn’t be happier.

You came in as Ivar was thinking that you would be late, just of a single minute before the start of the appointment, Eric stumbling happily on his crutches towards him, as you trailed behind him, with his jacket in your hands.

You were wearing jeans again, but a black skinny pair, and inserted in them was a white blouse with a jacket over it, in a casual elegance that stole his breath away.

Unlike Eric who literally smashed against him in a quick hug (he would have a quick talk with you about making Eric more wary of strangers), you simply smiled lightly at him, evidently at unease.

“Hey buddy!” he muttered as he ruffled the child’s hair and you sat down a chair away from him “… it’s nice to see you again”.

“You can tell me more stories!” squeaked Eric, gaining a look of reprimand from an old lady, to who Ivar glared enough to shut her up, before turning to his son, who was trying to sit on the chair.

“Hey… wait… I can help you” he insisted, worried about the way he moved, as a child he would have already broken a bone with such sudden gestures.

“No no, there is no need to” he spoke with confidence, finally settling himself onto the chair “… mom says that I am big enough to do it on my own!”.

“The doctor has told me that it is better for him to get used on doing things on his own” you explained, softly, as you set his jacket in his ‘Flash’ themed backpack.

He needed to watch that TV series, ASAP.

“… oh… I am just not used to it” although he was against it, he tried his best not to show any contrast to you as Heahmund had suggested.

But he couldn’t help but feel like it was just a tad irresponsible.

Aslaugh, his mother, would have never allowed it.

But his mother’s education had overprotected him to the point that it had smothered him and seeing the way Eric was so happy and hopeful he had to admit that maybe… maybe your parenting techniques weren’t bad.

He wasn’t allowed to think much more, because an Afro-American woman came out of the small ambulatory, with a medical jacket on her outfit and a smile on her face as Eric stood up, immediately greeting her.

“Auntie Caryn!” he ran to her, stumbling on his feet and hugged her, although he barely came to her waist, making the woman smirk as her gaze moved to you with a familiar smirk, moving then to Ivar.

And then shock and surprise was written on it.

He didn’t know what to say, suddenly a bit uncomfortable by the entire situation.

“Hello there, doc” you mumbled softly, taking back the child to calm him down, before turning to Ivar “… he is a friend of mine, the one… I talked about”.

He was worried about what you two had talked about but tried to be on his best behavior, smiling charmingly at the woman, who ushered you inside, simply mumbling a ‘oh this is new’.

Once inside she told Eric to get on the medical chair and wait for her, as you set up in a more private office, and you passed Caryn the medical records meanwhile Ivar sat down.

“He has been saying that his bones’ strength has been intensifying, but I don’t fully understand if he is saying it just to play soccer or…”.

“He plays soccer?” asked confused Ivar, feeling like he was basically a stranger in Eric’s life.

You turned to him annoyed, but still answered him.

“… yeah, he does, he is a goalie” and then turned towards the doctor “… today he woke up feeling pain, but it wasn’t enough to stop him or make him feel tired, still it hadn’t happened in three months”.

“That is a good sign” spoke softly the doctor, as she sat down examining exams after exams “… the level of pain endurance is always important to be kept under check in order for it not to worsen, unluckily it isn’t a proof of any bones strengthening”.

Your face immediately turned in a grimace, but you nodded lightly.

Ivar couldn’t help but notice how tense you were being, almost wanting to try to reach out for you, hadn’t he known that you would have rejected him, and such an open and heartfelt rejection would have pained him much harder than his legs.

“… and you must be the father” the words sounded uttered with a skepticism that brought Ivar back from his thoughts, and again it was you, who nodded.

Caryn had maintained her voice low, probably not to be heard by Eric.

“You share a similar pathology with Eric?” she continued, informing herself about his family history and his own treatment, which Ivar explained pretty quickly, getting the woman to nod along, meanwhile your grip onto the chair you hadn’t sat on tightened.

You definitely didn’t like doctor’s appointments, and he could understand why.

Aslaugh hadn’t either, but whereas you seemed to be more anxious, his mother had always and constantly been angry, with the doctor, with herself, with his father… her rage had always a great amount of varieties.

“… interesting” finished mumbling Caryn, before she dropped the papers and moved to her ambulatory, where Eric had ditched his pants and braces, and was now playing with the small action figures of Captain America.

“Ok, superhero, now go and lay down so that I can check your legs” told him the doctor and although Ivar was used to seeing his legs, he couldn’t help but be surprised by Eric’s, the same knocked and small bones he owned, lightly crooked in some places, in a way that seemed and was painful “… anything to tell me? Saved somebody lately?”.

“Just old ladies on cats on trees… you know… the old stuff” he joked, brightening the atmosphere “… I became a goalie in the soccer squad!”.

“Oh, that’s amazing!” complimented him the doctor, crouching down to the boy’s height as he sat himself in an upright position “… now let’s see how these pretty legs work”.

She did a quick check up, the child completely relaxing himself as she distracted him with some small talk, processing to touch up his legs and test his pain and strength.

Ivar moved his eyes from the check-up, only to check up onto you finding you nervous and tense, biting on your lips, as you tightened the grip on your hand, digging your colorful nails in your hands.

It was more natural then he had thought, but he reached out one hand out to you, uncaring of the rejection he had always feared so much.

But you gripped it back, giving it a light squeeze as your eyes focused themselves on Eric and Caryn, till the check-up came to a end  and you almost freed ashamed your hand from his grip.

“... everything alright” commented Caryn “… I do think that the treatment is working, but I can’t be sure till a bone break which is something that I hope you’ll avoid young man”.

Eric beamed, promising to avoid ‘anything dangerous’, but the smart smirk on his face said the exact contrary.

She then left him to dress up with the promise of a lollipop in her office, scribbling something in his medical papers, as Ivar asked a few questions.

But Caryn asked the most important one.

“… am I going to see you, again?” she said with something that might have seemed spiteful, hadn’t he seen the way she had taken care of Eric and the way she smiled at you: she had been there when you had no one to turn to.

“I hope to stick around” he was a bit annoyed by the implication that he wouldn’t stick around.

But he could also see where she came from, having seen a single mom raising a child by her own.

He still wanted to explain to her that it wasn’t exactly his fault, but…

… he thought it was better not to.

You were trying to trust him and had even let him onto a physical level, but he couldn’t simply think that everything was now settled.

“… am I allowed to take part in the Sunday match?” asked Eric, once he was again on his feet and crutch “… it’s going to be my first real match!”.

“Of course, sweetie” commented the doctor, finishing writing and rummaging through a drawer before getting out a colorful lollipop, that basically made the biggest smile appear on Eric’s face “… see you next month, Eric”.

And then she turned to accompany you out, greeting you and Ivar as you already had the Eric’s jacket in your hands, trying to convince the child to wear it.

“… it was nice meeting you, Mr. Lothbrock, hope to see you next time”.

He tried not to grimace at the sarcasm dripping from her voice.

“Mom can I eat the lollipop?” asked immediately Eric, as you smirked at him, having adjusted the jacket on his shoulder.

“Hey sweetie, I don’t think that would be a proper meal, for your afternoon break, but you can…”.

“What if we get ice cream?” suggested Ivar, knowing it was a low blow as you turned to glare annoyedly at him, but he wanted to spend time with his son, even if he had to use cheap tricks and childish ideas, because that’s all he had, against your big big brain and grunge against him.

“Yes yes yes!” and then he turned to you, although you had no chance “… can we please get ice cream, mom?”.

“I don’t think that my ‘no’ will stop you two” you mumbled, shooting an annoyed look at Ivar “… there is one near a park, so that we could talk”.

Well, that was troubling.

---

You cleaned Eric’s face, dabbing it with a small paper tissue, before sending the boy off to play, having to talk with Ivar, who was playing around with his own ice cream cup, messing his face the same way Eric did.

He had always been a messy eater, which was something that you didn’t mind since you, yourself, weren’t a polite one, but it brought you back to the old time when you were together and you would be sharing a plate of fries, after an hard session of studying.

“… did I do alright?” he commented, surprising you as he kept his eyes onto his meal “… maybe I exaggerated with the… ice cream…”.

“Eric seems to like you” you silenced him quietly, playing with Eric’s half-finished ice cream “… and as long as that keeps happening… you are alright”.

“Then maybe I could tell him” he suggested, his eyes shining brightly.

And like that you moved forward to look at him in the eyes, your grudge against him showing in your own eyes.

“Ivar, you broke my heart and I won’t let you do the same with my child” your tone was damnably serious, although you didn’t raise your voice “… so till I feel like I can trust you, you are simply a friend of mine”.

“Am I?” he raised an eyebrow with a smirk that had never failed to get on your nerve.

“I hope you can be” you breathed out softly, trying to gain the courage to speak with him again “… running away with Eric wasn’t the best idea, but I won’t apologize for doing what I thought was the best. I am still wary about your presence in my family, but it would be simply heartless to keep you out of it…”.

Ivar was now looking at you with surprise written all over in his face.

“… and unlike you I am not heartless” you delivered the finishing line and Ivar’s eyes veiled with sadness “… I hope you can understand where my distrust come from and respect it”.

“I don’t have a problem, as long as I can interact with Eric” although he seemed a bit hurt by your tongue-lashing “… he is a brilliant boy”.

“That he is” you spoke softening your tone at the mention of your boy, a you turned to see him trying to crawl up onto the small wooden castle in the park “… he is just gone through too much pain to also have his heart broken, again”.

“I’ll keep that in mind” he promised you and although Ivar might be a cunning little shit, you knew perfectly well that he would for ever ever hold the word he gave “… now… can I ask a few things about my child?”.

“I have photos for that”.

---

Although he knew that he hadn’t still won you over, as Ivar came back home he was the happiest man alive.

Eric was fine and although begrudgingly you had accepted his financial help, as long as you got to repay him, which he hoped would never happen, but you were too stubborn and honest.

He had always loved that about you.

Had he just said ‘love’?

He was halfway through looking at the photos you had shared with him, when he felt two pair of arms being pushed around his waist, gently hugging him from behind as Freydis pushed her head onto his shoulder.

“Ahh, it’s so nice to know that you aren’t dead” she commented, her tone as always soft, but he couldn’t help but notice something rotten in her tone, almost sarcasm.

“Sorry, sweetheart, just work… it’s been hectic” he confessed softly, turning around to kiss her softly on her forehead, his good mood unflinching even though she seemed a bit angry.

“… well you’ll have to take a bit off” her tone, again although gentle, didn’t allow any reply “… I have got some interesting news from the clinic”.

Which completely destroyed his good mood.

Because they either wanted him to undergo more therapy to strengthen his seed or they straight up wanted his seed, and he didn’t know which option was less interesting.

And more humiliating.

“I am all ears” he tried to muster a smile, thinking about the small video of Eric moving his first step, the braces on his legs so small that he had wanted to cry out “… is everyth…”.

“I am pregnant”.

Oh.

Oh.

Oh.

“Ivar, is everything alright?” her voice came to him as if it was too distant, far away and away “… it’s happy news, isn’t it”.

Of course.

They had been searching for that baby since they had become engaged and their wedding would be happening in three months, so he shouldn’t have felt that empty and apathetic towards that news.

Even more when he had the best time of his life with Eric.

He thought it was simply the shock and again mustered up a small smile on his face, hugging Freydis tight who had started crying on his chest, something that made the entire situation even more awkward.

“… I am just surprised sweetie, I didn’t think… hadn’t they said that the last sample of seed was too weak?” he asked.

Although he tried to leave the entire fertility clinic part at Freydis, since it was an entire new thing for him, whereas Freydis working in that climate, having a nurse degree, and being determinate about this, he still tried to keep track of it.

And the last time they had talked about it, Freydis had told him that the specialist had said that his seed was too weak to impregnate her, and the last two tries had gone badly.

There was something that wasn’t convincing him, but Freydis’ joy was so natural and sweet, and he just couldn’t call her a liar, and alongside that she rushed to the bathroom to retrieve the pregnancy test, showing itself as positive.

And in the end he couldn’t help but think that maybe his skepticism was a way to hide his guilt for having met Eric and you, ignoring Freydis, who would be his soon-to-be-wife and mother of the child she had worked so hard on having.

And maybe another part of his uneasiness about the subject was the fact that he hadn’t had a proper role in all this, but at the same time, again… that was partly his fault.

So, he just smiled through his teeth and gently tightened his grip on her waist, showing more enthusiasm in his smile, as she immediately matched him, kissing him softly on his lips as he smirked against them.

“Ahh beloved that is wonderful news!”

She moved to softly pepper his face with kisses, as she whispered about how lucky she had been and how beautiful it would all be.

‘It’ll just bring us together, even more!’ she cheered, as they sat down on the sofa, the pregnancy test forgotten onto their glass table ‘… that’s perfect timing’.

Ivar wasn’t so sure about it, but he faked a smile.

“We should celebrate it!” he proposed, feeling like the house was closing onto him “… our favorite restaurant, at 8 p.m.?”.

“Ahhh… I actually already did something…” she spoke softly, a slight blush gracing her beautiful face “… we had that dinner with Torvi and Ubbe… I thought it would be a perfect dinner to tell them the good news”.

And Ivar just swallowed his spiteful opinion and smiled.

“That’d be perfect sweetie”.

---

You kept on replaying the big smile that had been on Ivar’s face when you had showed him the first pictures of Eric.

At first you had been low key wary of showing something so intimate to him.

That was the main reason why you ditched social medias, but at the same time you felt like the journey you were on with Ivar, needed you both to take steps towards the other for the wellbeing of Eric.

Ivar had sacrificed his free time and had accepted to avoid admitting that he was Eric’s father, so you could show him a few silly pictures.

He had smirked brightly at the one of Eric overcoming the limits that his sickness had pushed him in, and you didn’t understand if he was happy for the child to have the chance he hadn’t had or if he was proud of your child.

Who was also his.

Either way, his smile haunted you as you crashed your head on the sofa, after you had managed to get Eric to start his ‘bedtime routine’, with your mother graciously taking care of the dishes as an apology of sorts for reaching out to Ivar without asking you.

You couldn’t help but feel fifteen again, having Ivar by your side, with that cute dorky smile of his, hidden with everyone but with you, as you smirked for a shared joke or when you caught him looking at you, concealing a smile that would make you blush.

But that was a dangerous road.

Because any memory about Ivar would bring you back to your ‘break-up’ story.

Although five years had passed, five years in which you had tried to desperately not think about Ivar, you still didn’t know why he had decided to break up with you.

The entire thing had just been too sudden and abrupt and you couldn’t help but think that the entire excuse of ‘having lost any feeling for you’ was the stupidest you had heard, and although you knew people had used some even more idiotic ideas.

But still… it had made no sense.

Ivar had never seemed the guy who was into it for simply the sex, unlike his brothers.

And maybe this was just an attempt to shift the focus from you, that you had been the problem.

Because it would have hurt you too much.

You were slowly spiraling down, when your phone started vibrating, signaling an incoming call, which either meant that Ivar wanted to schedule another appointment or you were being asked for another turn at the diner.

Both the ideas didn’t excite you particularly, but the number on the screen wasn’t known to you, and you thought it was maybe some publicity agency, so you were even more wary when answering it.

“… hello?” you mumbled, hearing a confused background till a familiar voice answered.

“Hey, (Y/N)?” you immediately recognized the voice of the owner of the gallery you had tried to get an internship in “It’s Tina from the gallery, am I bothering you?”.

‘No, I am just having a panic attack at the prospect of being pushed out of the best job I have had in a while’ you mentally thought but answered that it wasn’t a problem.

“I know it is late, but we have just finished a quick reunion and found ourselves to be very interested in working with you, the try-out was amazing…” you still didn’t understand how you had worked through it because you had felt like shit for the entire night, worried of having left Eric with Ivar “… so we thought about continuing on working with you, if you are still interested”.

“Oh” that was the best news ever “… of course! I’d like to work with you”.

“Then you start next week, a week trial, and then you are officially hired, I am sending to your email the timetable for this week”.

“Ahh yeah, thank you for the chance” you were honestly on the verge of tears “… see you on Monday”.

“See you on Monday” repeated softly Tina, before closing the call and you felt two pair of eyes on you, your mother having raised her face from the dishes and Eric who had listened onto the conversation.

And you couldn’t help but childishly reply:

“I got the job”.

“Then we have something to celebrate!” giggled your mother as Eric hugged you tight.

Maybe your life wasn’t going so badly…

---

He couldn’t help but feel like he just had to learn to be more discreet since the reveal of Freydis’ pregnancy, even more after his brothers had mentioned their meeting with (Y/N) at the diner.

‘Oh, Ivar hadn’t told me about it’ he had had a ‘Gone Girl’ flashback at Freydis’ voice and he had forced out a smile, replying with a simple:

‘It must have passed my mind’.

But Freydis had kept an eye out for him, hence the sole time he had had free from her he had spent it looking through Eric’s photos.

And he was desperately looking forward to Sunday morning since ‘Eric had wanted to invite him to his first soccer match’.

‘He is very excited’ you had mumbled over the phone, as he had basically locked himself on the bathroom at work to speak with you calmly ‘… it would mean a lot to me, my dad used to come before he…’.

Before he ran away.

He had worked some researches on your family after you had left your old city, which meant that he had heard the gossip his mother’s friends had for him.

‘Oh, Ivar you are such a sweet boy! It’s so nice of you to call him’ they had all mumbled and it hadn’t taken him much to discover the truth.

Your father had left you and your mother, running away with another woman and he found himself unable to stop the anger against that man from growing.

He had always thought that your father would have been one of the good ones: he was strict but not enough to have stopped you from hanging out with Ivar, outside of home, and he had been the one who had taken in Ivar although begrudgingly.

And from what he had seen and heard, he had loved your mother truly.

Had he also been dared by his friend to leave you and your mother?

Because he had then been as idiotic as Ivar.

And he could understand why you didn’t want Ivar back in your life.

“… so, let me know if you want to come” you had ended the call not giving him even a single moment to reply, as embarrassment was heard in your tone, clearly wanting to close this entire conversation early.

But he had the perfect timing, since Saturday Freydis had programmed an outing with her friends to let them know about the good news.

It was all Freydis had done, showing off the good news to everyone who would listen, receiving mixed reaction: polite smiles to her face and mutters under their breaths.

Their brothers had later cornered him after dinner to ask him if he really wanted this.

‘This is all moving too fast, Ivar, don’t you realize it?’ had uttered Ubbe.

Which he agreed on, but he would be damned if he admitted he was wrong and didn’t have everything under control.

‘… it might be a scam Ivar’ had uttered Sigurd and that was then when he had lost it.

‘Just because my life is going perfectly already and yours is shitty as hell doesn’t mean that mine is an illusion’ he had replied, harshly quitting any protests ‘… this is beautiful news and we should celebrate it’.

But he had been still nervous to utter it to his mother, mostly because she had been already angered by Ubbe’s quick eloping, which hadn’t lasted even more to prove her words, so he was trying to avoid doing the same.

And he also knew that he had to come clear with Freydis about Eric, because although he might have another child on the way, he wouldn’t simply abandon his previous one.

He just couldn’t do it to him.

And to you.

So, he had issued another reunion with Heahmund and Oleg, his business partner, about the entire problem, in order to get a second opinion on this entire mess, no matter how much he hated asking for help.

“We need to talk about a situation”.

“The one we talked about last Saturday after you barged  ‘on my date’? “mumbled Heahmund, with a raised eyebrow.

“What situation?” asked annoyed Oleg, as he played around with some papers on the desk, trying to adjust them till they were perfectly set up, showing all his perfectionist nature.

“…. Ivar over here has a child, out of wedlock and from a high school sweetheart” quickly summarized “… and Freydis know no shit about it”.

“Ok that is interesting enough” mumbled Oleg, focusing his gaze onto Ivar “… do you need to make them disappear? I know people…”.

Both Heahmund and Ivar regarded him with a deep gaze of ‘what the fuck’, and he shook his head, mumbling about how ‘it was just an idea’.

“No, I… I actually want a relationship with my child and I am slowly reaching it” he muttered, explaining softly how you were slowly letting him in, although you refused to admit to Eric he was his father “… the problem is that… Freydis is pregnant”.

“Do you need me to make her disappear” again the glares told Oleg to shut up and Ivar wondered why he had asked him for help “… ok no disappearing, but …”.

“Dumbass you haven’t told her yet about the baby?” replied Heahmund, basically glaring at Ivar.

“I didn’t… I literally didn’t have the time” he mumbled, blushing furiously “… it all seemed so sudden, so I just had to come to your idiotic asses to get advise on when and how to tell Freydis about all this shit”.

“… well… I don’t think that there is a good way to do this” mumbled Oleg, nervously “… I’d say you just rip off the band aid”.

“… and risk your entire life” added Heahmund with a sarcastic drip in his voice, which made Ivar huff, because it was everything he had been thinking about.

Although Freydis hadn’t ever been jealous, she hadn’t had exactly much competition, he couldn’t imagine how painful it would have been for her to discover that Ivar had a previous child and that he intended contact, probably the most painful thing.

But still he couldn’t see an outcome of this in which Freydis would stop him from actually seeing you and Eric: she had always had this maternal instinct to her that he hoped wouldn’t have clashed with you and Eric.

But he couldn’t be sure till he asked.

And maybe he shouldn’t have.

Because when Freydis found out, accidentally, that Friday night, he couldn’t help but feel like all hell had broken loose.

He had meant to tell her on Sunday, maybe after he got her favorite breakfast and the new jewelry set, she had seen her admiring in her favorite store, in order for the truth to be sweetened.

To make it clear that as much as he might continue on seeing you because of Eric, it would never ever make him forget of her, the mother of his future child.

His soon-to-be-wife.

But everything had been destroyed that Friday night when he had come back to find Freydis on the sofa with the face of somebody who had discovered something she hadn’t meant to.

He still had tried his best to appear polite and nice.

“Hey sweetie, is everything alright?” he had tried to ask, but she had just sent him an annoyed look, before her small voice had uttered.

‘… maybe you could start with talking of your happy family’ she had replied, and he had known that she had caught him.

“It isn’t what you think” he had mumbled the most recriminating thing ever.

“Then explain to me why the hell Kristen caught you talking with a woman that wasn’t me” she had raised up, almost as if she had intended to challenge him, effectively getting him to move slightly away nervous.

He couldn’t help but feel that although he knew he was at fault here, Freydis was exaggerating the entire thing: he might have been simply speaking to a colleague.

“… and as if it wasn’t already enough, a child… WITH LEG BRACES!”.

He stumbled more and lost hold on his legs as he fell on his butt, hitting it soundly a terrible sickening sound of broken bones overcoming Freydis’ shout.

But what he found even more terrifying was that she didn’t move further, to try to help him or check on him, she just pierced him with her eyes as he tried to push himself back, failing miserably due to the pain coursing through his bones.

“… Freydis… I haven’t cheated on you”.

“That’s what all cheaters say”.

His hands weren’t able to grip, the pain was too much, so he reached in the pockets of his coat to retrieve some painkiller, swallowing a few pills dry, meanwhile Freydis went on a tirade on ‘how stupid she had been’ and ‘how horrible he was’.

“I seriously didn’t cheat on you, Freydis!” he shouted angrily, maybe more than he should have but he was in so much pain that he couldn’t simply put his usual filter on his words “… fuck Freydis, can’t you just shut up and let me at least explain?”.

She did, her eyes showing fear and he took a deep breath, checking his legs till he found the lump, and checked whether he had simply broken or bruised a bone, thankful when it resulted only very very badly bruised.

“… she is an old school girlfriend of mine…” he explained calmly, lowering softly his gaze “… we had sex once… and she got pregnant, I have only recently discovered of her and the child and I have been trying to \reconnect with him”.

“You…” Freydis looked like the one who was going to pass out from pain, as she stumbled back till the sofa where she sat gracefully, her gazed unfocused “… you had sex with her”.

“It’s the only time we did it, I… was never able again…”.

“So… you could have sex” she covered her mouth with a hand quickly “… you had sex… but you can’t with me…”.

And he understood that this had more repercussions that he might have realized.

“… Freydis I don’t know… I love you much much more than her… you know it… my prick is just…”.

“… and you had a child with her” she continued “… you are involved in this, you want to recognize him”.

“Of course, I want to! He is my child!” the words were natural to him as if her accusations were hurting him.

“… and what about my child?” she replied, her voice more a whisper before he spoke “… the one I worked so so hard for! Undergoing so many shitty therapies, just for you to recognize as your own a bastard child!”.

And that’s when he completely broke down.

“He is my fucking child, Freydis!” and before she could retort he finally managed to push himself on his own feet “… he isn’t a bastard or any less of the one in your womb and if you aren’t able to accept it, the door is there”.

And he shot out an arm to where the door was set up.

Looking back at it he wouldn’t have believed the threat he had sent to Freydis, powered by his anger and his pain, even for his usual anger it had been too much, but her accusation… how she had called Eric, his child, a ‘bastard’… had hit him in the face.

It had almost been a personal insult.

That’s why he also didn’t move in to stop her as she collected a few of her clothes in a small bag and pushed the coat onto her shoulder, barely looking back at Ivar who had managed to set himself onto the sofa again, not giving her a single drop of attention.

He couldn’t help but be pained with the way the door sounded once she closed it behind her, a light sniffling following her outside the room, as more sobs followed it.

But he felt almost cold and insensitive as a rock.

And he wouldn’t ask forgiveness for defending his son.

Even if he fell asleep alone at night.

Had he done the right choice?

---

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[ficsnroses]

First Argument - John Wick x Reader

First time writing Wick! I had a ball :) This was requested by a lovely anon who wanted a first fight with John. I hope it meets your expectations! 

Word Count : 2997

Requested : Yes

Warnings : Angst, lots of fluff, swearing.

Summary : John and reader have the first major argument of their relationship.

        With your head in your hands, and damp tears cascading down your cheeks, you wept to yourself in the late hours of the night. In choked desolation, you had glanced over at the time piece on the bedside table of the bedroom John and you shared.

        In this bedroom, John and you had spent countless nights together, smitten. Every quiet laugh shared in the dark, every action of passion displayed exclusively for each other, tangled in limbs, every cuddle at the end of a long day. On the same bed you sat alone tonight, you had nursed John back to health when his fragile frame couldn’t bare the weight of his own body anymore. In this same room, you would kiss each and every scar that peppered his skin. For the world, he was a merciless, famed assassin. But for you, he was the most caring, loving man you had the pleasure of knowing and calling yours. You felt for John, you really did. The world saw him as this monster, constantly reminding him of all the murder that lied on his finger tips. You tried your best to tell him otherwise. You knew he wasn’t proud of what he was, but to you, he was so much more. That’s all you wanted, to show him how much more he really was.

        Being in a relationship with John Wick emitted a sort of…ominous feeling at times. Sometimes, you felt uncertain. John was a man of few words, and those words were even more scarce when his work was involved. When he first told you of what exactly he does, who he is, what the dire circumstances of life have shaped him into, you were scared. Not of John, you could never be scared of him, no matter what the situation. You loved him too much, and he loved you too much to ever inflict any pain or danger your way. You were scared of what could happen to him, the thought of him not coming home to you one dreadful night constantly lured over your head, glooming and making the worst of outcomes brew in your mind.

        But John assured you he would make no mistake. He was the best at what he did, constantly triumphing over all who came his way. He knew you worry, he always tried to keep your fears at bay. You being restless, meant he was restless; that’s what love means.

       Before you came along, claiming a spot in John’s life, he didn’t care much about making it out alive. He did what he did, baring the scars and daggers thrown his way impassively. But all that changed when he gave you his heart. He felt you saved him in a way, gave him something to live for, someone to live for.

       But the uncertain events of tonight left you both feeling overwhelmed. John and you had a very understanding relationship, filled with respect for each other. You hardly ever fought, surely you had disagreements here and there, as all couples do. Normally they were harmless, usually revolving around the lines of an unwashed dish in the sink, or a dirty towel left on the floor. But tonight, tonight was different. It was your first major outburst. You were both angry, you had taken jabs at each other. It was very unlike you and John, but things had been laid out on the table tonight, and they pierced into every vein in your heart, emitting an appalling presence.

           As far as you remembered, you had fell asleep while talking to John the previous night. You lay in bed next to each other, his arm wrapped securely around your waist as he hugged you from behind. With your back pressed to his chest, you had rest your hand on his arm that draped over you, soothingly running your thumb over the rough skin. In part because you wanted to help him relax, but also because you wanted to keep yourself awake. John had been scare lately, his work keeping him out of home, and evenings like this had become your main form of communication and bonding time. You tried so hard to stay awake to spend as many moments as possible with him, but eventually, sleep had consumed you. But you weren’t too upset, John would be home the next day, and you would be able to spend some much needed time together.

           When you woke up in the morning however, the weight of John’s body was no where to be found beside you, leaving the spot cold and vacant. Propping yourself up on the bed with your elbows, your sleep drowned, groggy eyes scanned the room for him.

           “John? Babe?” you called, your voice raspy.

           John was no where to be found.

           Pouring yourself a freshly pressed cup of coffee, you tapped your phone, letting out a deep yawn, in efforts to reach John’s cell. He never picked up.

           You felt your heart sink for sure, you had been looking forward to having him to yourself today, and you really thought he reciprocated the feeling. Into the prolonged hours of the day, you still had no idea where John was. Chances were, he had been called for a job, and you understood that. You knew there would be times he had to leave suddenly, but you were okay with it. You were willing to compromise that to be with him. But it wasn’t like him to leave without telling you, it made you worry.

           Around 10pm, the jingle of the lock rose you out of your seat at the kitchen counter. You had been restlessly playing with your fingernails, praying that John was okay and would be home soon. You had prepared dinner and left John a plate in the microwave, pushing your own down with one, maybe two glasses of wine. All alone.

           Tip toeing to the hallway up front, you saw John in his suit and tie, taking off his shoes and belt. He didn’t have any apparent new bruises or cuts on his face, allowing you to sigh of relief.

           “Hey..” you breathed, folding your hands in front of yourself and slightly leaning against the wall. “Where were you? I tried calling and everything.”

           “Got a call early morning, had some stuff to take care of.” John replied, his deep voice low, not making much of the situation. He was in the process of taking off his suit coat and hanging in on the stairs.

           “Oh..okay.” you shrugged, suddenly feeling uneasy. John was being a bit...cold? “Foods in the microwave.” You said quietly, trying to study his face for a reaction.

           “Thanks, hun.” He said casually, padding into the kitchen, a very slight, almost unidentifiable limp in his walk.

           He hadn’t even kissed you yet, forget about kiss, he hadn’t even touched you yet. It hurt a little, you waited for him all day because today was meant for the two of you, and he disappeared for the entirety of it, and came back giving you almost no explanation of his whereabouts.

           You trailed along behind him, silently praying he would turn around and engulf you in a hug sooner than later. That’s what couples do, right? Maybe you were being too needy and craving attention. But maybe you had the right to feel this way, John had kinda left you hanging in the dark there.

           “I thought we were supposed to spend some time together today?” you questioned lightly, leaning against the kitchen island counter, eyes on John as he washed his hands.

           “It was out of the blue, I had to take the call, babe.” John sighed, his back still facing you.

           “Yeah I get that, but you could have at least let me know you were leaving? I was kinda worried..” you replied, fidgeting with your nails again, keeping yourself calm.

           “I didn’t get the chance, sorry.” John turned now, drying his hands on the kitchen towel. He hadn’t looked your way once.

           You chuckled lightly, nodding your head in disagreement. “You couldn’t nudge me awake to say you’re leaving so I wouldn’t just be hanging around wondering where the fuck you were all day? Or I don’t know, maybe shoot me a text, write a fucking note, anything, Johnathan!” you said, your voice a little louder than intended. You hadn’t meant to pick a fight, but the bubbling of emotions inside you had threatened to spill, crashing down eventually.

           “Y/N please, I don’t wanna start an argument. I told you, I didn’t get the chance. My intentions weren’t to hurt you.” John was still calm as well, but you could see there was slight annoyance forming in his eyes as well.

           You swallowed to rid the lump that was forming in your throat. Looking down at the floor, you sighed lightly. In that moment, it was as if your mind was racing too fast to process. You finally blurted out, without thinking twice.

           “I don’t deserve this, John. All I ask is for you to fucking talk to me.”

           John immediately tensed, his large hands sprawled on the counter as his arms leaned over it. He took a deep breath, and exhaled. You could tell he wanted to say something, but was holding back.

           “I’m doing this for us, Y/N. You don’t need to know every little detail. You knew exactly what you were signing up for when we went into this” He said through almost gritted teeth, gesturing between you two.

           Your jaw dropped, slightly taken back. John had never been this…aggressive with you, if that’s what you would call it. Maybe stern was a better word.

           “Really, John? Because as far as I remember, I didn’t know you were a fucking assassin going into this.” You spat out. You immediately regretted it, even though you both knew what John was, saying it out loud almost made it more real. Gave it more power over you both.

           “What are you trying to say, Y/N.” John questioned, although it was more of a statement, his arms now at his side, staring you right in the eyes. He had an empty look on his face, but you could see a tinge of sadness in his eyes. This discussion had been starting to hurt the both of you.

           You sighed and looked down, trying to look for the right words. You felt tears brimming at your eyes, but you held yourself composed. Looking up at him, in the eyes, you spoke.

           “I’ve made a lot of changes for us, John. And I’m trying my best.” Your voice threatened to break.

           “Well I’m trying my best as well, Y/N. I don’t know what else to say.” John said, now walking past you, out of the kitchen. He loosened his tie as he started up the stairs, into your shared bedroom. You heard the shower turn on a little later, as you were leaning against the staircase ledge, trying to think of where exactly you had gone wrong tonight.

           Walking into the bedroom a few minutes later, you saw John was out of the shower, drying his wet hair. Once again, he didn’t acknowledge you walking in. That stung. Again.

           Sighing, and feeling the gaping hole in your heart grow wider now, you trekked towards your side of the bed, grasping your pillow. Perhaps, you would take the couch tonight.

           “What are you doing?” John questioned as he saw the pillow in your hand, droplets of water still clasped at the ends of his long, black locks. He realized you didn’t want to sleep together tonight. The argument had done more damage than he intended, but it was already done.

           Looking down, and then off into the distance briefly, he grabbed his pillow, tucking it securely under his arm, and walked out of the room. He would rather have himself take the couch over you, a gentleman would never make his lady spend the night on the couch, no matter how angry he was.

         That was over an hour ago, and here you were. All alone, on the edge of your bed, sobbing. Part of you regretted everything, you really didn’t mean to come off so harsh, but you missed him. You felt you deserved some explanation.

           “What am I doing wrong?” you questioned yourself, staring up at the ceiling with your tear stained cheeks. Bringing your gaze down, you spotted John’s medication on the nightstand. Whenever John would come back from work, he usually took some sort of meds to help with pain and to relax his muscles. The bottle hadn’t moved since the last time you saw it, alerting you that he hadn’t taken his dose yet.

           You contemplated for a second, debating. Finally, you wiped your cheeks with the sleeves of your sweater and took a deep, almost meditation like breath in. You knew John, he wouldn’t come back into the room tonight for his meds. He wouldn’t want to disturb you or your space, especially since you had made the first move of sleeping in separate rooms tonight.

           Grabbing the pills in a swift moment, you rose and headed out the bedroom. Tip toeing town the stairs, you could see John’s figure sprawled across the couch, his long legs dangling off the much smaller piece of furniture. You suddenly felt horrible.

           His eyes were closed, and he had his forearm resting across his forehead, in attempts to keep light out.  You made yourself known by grabbing a bottle of water out of the fridge for him. He tilted his head up, and saw you standing by the hallway door with two of the meds in the palm of your hand, and a bottle of water in the other.

           You locked eyes for a moment, before you finally started walking towards him. He immediately sat up, shuffling over so you could sit beside him. With a nod of the head, you extended your hand his way, offering the pills. He took them into his mouth as you cracked the bottle lid for him.

           Both staring at the floor, you sat in silence, both unsure of what to say. Clearly, you both had forgotten your anger and cooled off.

           John was the first to speak. “You wanna talk about it?” he asked lightly, resting his hand on your thigh.

           “I don’t know.” You said in almost a whisper, unsure.

           John tapped your arm to get you to make eye contact. He then titled his head down towards the couch, lightly tugging at your arm. You smiled lightly at him.

           John positioned himself to lay down on his back on the couch, and gently pulled you down by the arm to lay on top of him. With your chest pressed flush against his, you made yourself comfortable, resting your head on his pecs. He wrapped his arms around your waist, stroking his hand up and down your back.

           You closed your eyes to enjoy the moment. Maybe this was all you wanted all along, to just be with him, to feel him close. In that moment, there was nothing in the world for you besides John, you rest on top of him, feeling nothing but him holding you tight and close.

           Pressing a few light kisses into your hair while still stroking your back, John broke the comfortable silence. “I’m really sorry, baby. I should have tried to reach out to you, I know. I’m sorry I was being distant tonight, I wasn’t in the best mood and I guess I kinda channeled it onto you by accident. I don’t know, I guess I’m still trying to figure out how to deal with my shit. I never intended to hurt you, sweetheart.” He spoke, quietly into the silent room.

           He grabbed your hand in his, and pressed his lips to it, holding it tight. “You’re right, baby. You don’t deserve this.” He sighed.

           “John, I’m sorry. I said some stuff I didn’t mean tonight as well, but I didn’t mean it. I know you’re trying baby, and I appreciate it. I totally overreacted. Gosh I’m so fucking stupid sometimes…I really hurt you with…you know…the assassin thing.” You avoided eye contact, completely embarrassed, your heart aching. You know that hurt him, and it killed you that you were the cause of it. If anything, your goal in life had been to lessen his hurt and pain. You felt tears prick at your eyes again. “I’m so sorry, John.” you whispered, burying your face in his chest.

           “Hey hey, Y/N, honey, look at me.” You looked up at him to make eye contact, and he held your face between his warm hands. “We both said some stuff tonight we didn’t mean to. I know you didn’t mean it, baby. It didn’t hurt me, I’m okay. I know you don’t really think that stuff.” He wiped a tear away from your cheek with his thumb.

           “I really didn’t John. I love you so much.” You scratched his beard gently with your fingers, pressing a few kisses to his shoulders and chest.

           “I love you, Y/N. I promise, never again will this happen.” He said, referring to the events of the day.

           “I promise; I’ll never freak out again like I did today. I know you don’t need that on top of everything you’re already dealing with. But babe, please, don’t keep me in the dark.” You said, making eye contact, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I wanna be there for you and help you, I need you to share things with me. That’s what we do for each other, right? We help each other.” You spoke quietly.

           “I don’t want you to worry, love.” He pulled you closer, pressing your head to his chest again. “I can take care of it on my own.” He argued.

           “No, John. You can’t. Us against the world, right? That’s what we promised.” You played with his fingers, cheek still pressed against his chest. You pressed a few kisses to his hand.

           You both laid in silence for a few moments, before the deep rumble of his chest signaled dialogue.

           “I’ve been trying to get out...for you. For us, so we can have a normal future. I want to give you a normal life. That’s what this morning was about.”

           You were taken back, but felt tears of joy. Lifting your head to look at him, you cupped his cheek. “Baby…really?” you smiled wide, letting out a few giggles.

           “Yeah. Its gonna be tough, but I promise, I’m going to make it happen.” He leaned into your touch.

           You both stayed there, wrapped in each others embrace, sulking in the moment. It seemed like that was all you needed after all, to just be together. “Once I’m out, everything’s going to be perfect. We’re going to live a perfect life together.” He cooed into your ear, as he stroked your hair soothingly.

           “How about we go back to bed, huh?” you smiled up at him, leaning your chin on his chest, running your thumb over his bottom lip.

           He smiled in response, and nodded his head, entwining your hands once again.

~~~

Taglist Posted Separately (Ask to be added or removed!) :

[unsettledink]

A while back I made up a list of fics I had ideas for/wanted to write, mostly to try and drum up bids for Marvel Trumps Hate.

Since then I have, of course, had approximately five million new ideas and keeping track of them has gotten a bit out of hand, so i thought I’d try and put them all in one place that I could come back to and also update more easily. Also possibly some sort of... accountability thing? Like if I put them out into the universe I’m more likely to actually write them? Well I can dream.

There’s going to be a couple of these, divided up by pairings. Feel free to ignore, it’s mostly housekeeping!

(This one’s just for starker and polystarker ideas.)

I’m kind of grouping these because it got long. (Smut, smut + feels, fluff, oh no the sads)

* for new ideas (ARG)

Just the smut! (Ok some feels):

Continuation of Hang Up – so what does happen the next morning after that phone call? (Sex. Probably more phone sex.)

*Pocket Change sequel – Why yes, Peter, you can work out some sort of retroactive deal to 'pay' for the suits...

Peter is dumb online – Peter decides to auction off his virginity online. Of course Tony finds out immediately. Of course Tony buys it to keep Peter from getting hurt. Of course Tony decides to meet up and teach Peter a lesson about being safe – wait. That might have been a mistake. (It’s not.)

Actually, Peter doesn’t like it rough – miscommunication piled on top of miscommunication because they’re both idiots who are desperate for each other, until a tipping point is reached. Happy ending! Fluffy ending!

Gag reflex training – pretty much what it sounds like. Tony having a lot of fun with Peter; messy, noisy, hopefully hot.

Experienced Peter – Peter hasn’t been waiting around for Tony to be the first, and he’s had time to figure out some of his preferences. Like topping almost exclusively, among other things. Hey I kind of wrote this!

Civil War pick me up – after the airport, Tony goes to check on Peter and is in desperate need of something nice. Peter really, really wants to be that something nice. Could be underage, could be not.

Continuation of Gift Wrapped – (Peter/Tony/Pepper) there’s a lot more sex happening for Tony’s birthday than I had time to write for kinktober.

But you want me to be safe, don’t you? - Peter’s hit with sex pollen, but it can be taken care of without outside help. Peter would still really like it if Tony would help. Or would at least keep an eye on him. Or at least stay in hearing range! He won’t be able to resist if Peter’s noisy and saying his name while he gets off, right???

Armor Kink - I mean, basically what it says on the tin. Peter’s been having fantasies about the armor forever. Tony is absolutely willing to help him with that.

ABO forced presentation – Peter doesn’t know what he’ll end up being, and that’s bad for Reasons. He convinces Tony try forcing a presentation (not noncon type forcing) and things get weird. Playing around with the idea of how non-binary might go in ABO. Possible Tony/Peter/Pepper endship. More than likely somewhat underage.

Avengers orgy – Peter’s finally old enough to join in the tradition! While he’s having fun with everyone, Peter and Tony keep gravitating to each other, winding up with things getting a little too emotional when Tony finally gets his chance. Potential for Tony/Peter/Rhodey endship.

The spider bite did what?!? - Peter starts having really weird cravings when he’s around Tony. Weird as in blood, and Tony is going to help him figure this out. Even when it turns into a craving for sex (and bloodplay). Even when it turns into terrifying (for Peter) egg/medical kink.

*Hooker D/S AU Brat!Peter – Tony orders 'the brattiest sub you have' and gets Peter. Who is incredibly so, and Tony is actually delighted by this. And Peter is a little taken aback that someone likes this rather than considering him a bad sub.

*Flaunt follow up – more Peter/Tony/Rhodey D/S AU? Yup!

*No, I'm saving YOU – villains of the week catch them and plan on gangbanging Peter – until Tony offers to be willing if they leave Peter alone. At some point Peter comes around and tries to bargain for them to use him instead of Tony. Tony is not happy about this, but boy, the villains are!

*Peter/Harley/Tony - Tony’s so glad Peter’s over that crush and happy with Harley. Really. Totally. Meanwhile, Peter & Harley are doing their best to get Tony into bed with them and growing increasingly frustrated with Tony’s (intentional) obliviousness.

*

Smut! Oh wait, where did all these feelings come from?:

Toybox – slightly darker Peter decides if Tony won’t fuck him, the least Tony can do is pay for Peter’s toys, and watch while Peter enjoys them. No touching allowed since Tony doesn’t want him, after all. Which is a rule that gets harder and harder to keep in place; feelings, so many feelings everywhere.

Pain kink Peter – what it says on the tin, lol. “Oh Mr. Stark, maybe you should supervise this slightly dangerous sex thing I like.” I think we can guess where it heads from there.

Baby's first D/S (dom version) – established T/P, Tony's subby but hasn't brought it up. Peter is like, 'but what if I was into the idea of doming?' and they start messing around with it. Peter is Very Earnest and learning all these new things, and Tony is surprised to find, after a while, Peter's doing pretty good on his own.

Call boy Peter – what it sounds like! It’s an accident that Tony gets him; good thing Peter was blindfolded! Bad thing that Peter’s senses are enhanced and he knows from the start who it is. Good thing that Peter’s not going to say anything so he can keep this reliable customer?

Evil Ex D/S verse – Peter’s pretty insecure about being a good sub for Tony and it’s not helped at all when one of Tony’s ex subs tells him he’ll never be able to take what Tony wants to dish out. Well, Peter’s going to prove him wrong! Tony really doesn’t understand why Peter is making himself miserable for something Tony doesn’t even want, and things almost break before they get fixed.

*Besties and Omegas and Peter's – Rhodey and Tony (both omegas) end up in an awkward situation when Peter has something like an enhanced rut around them. Slightly complicated dynamics but happy ending for everyone.

*Outraged owned Peter – some sort of slave type au where Obie buys Peter for Tony as a companion, considering Peter to be a distraction and possible spy. Tony does not want a sex slave and rejects him, and Peter is furious – he is not just for sex, he is literally worth his weight in gold, and how DARE Tony not want him!

*Very dark Peter - Peter’s decided he really likes having Tony completely wrapped around his little finger. To the point of getting Tony to give him/do things that are pretty far from acceptable, and then Peter figures out he likes showing off his hold over Tony even more. Oops.

*

Fluff! (Crap there’s not much):

Follow up to Seiche – mostly fluffy 5 times +1 where the emotion sensing bond causes (minor) problems

Fluffy D/S verse – all the fluff! All the outside POV! Everyone assumes that obviously Tony is a dom; after all, that’s how he’s always presented himself. Everyone is wroooooong. Tony’s never been happier.

Nail polish – little bit of Tony finding it incredibly appealing when Peter wears nail polish

*Lingerie shorts – several vignettes of them getting each other and wearing different interesting pieces of lingerie

*

Oh No + all the feelings, heavy on the bad ones:

Soulmark AU – Tony finds out first and isn’t going to do anything due to the age difference. Peter finds out and thinks that’s bullshit + horribly hurt that he’s being rejected. Things are forced when Peter gets hit with a drug that messes with that bond and they both have to figure out how things are going to go. Possible bittersweet ending.

Screw soulmates, actually - Post CW and Tony dealing with soulmate rejection (that’s a WHOLE other fic). Peter’s become convinced Tony’s a blank like him, and then doesn’t understand why Tony’s soulmate wouldn’t want him. Peter does! They get their happy ever after without being fated for each other, and Peter gets a chance to tells Tony’s soulmate what a dick they are. All the satisfaction!

*Blanks are Bad – soulmark au where blanks are regarded extremely poorly, and Tony is exposed as one. Lots of dealing with the ugly fallout, and Peter coming to Tony and confessing he's a blank too and has been so scared.

Untenable – sequel to Indefensible and … horrible. The ABO underage incest continues, Tony hates himself, Peter is distressingly happy. Mpreg makes everything ten times worse; endgame makes everything 100 times worse. Going beyond that would be spoilery, but uh. Everything becomes 1000 times worse by the end! Yay! Yikes.

*Made For It follow ups (aka the... happy version of Indefensible??) - we want to actually see the sex scene they talk about doing, right? Right. And possibly some mpreg? We shall see.

ABO accidental bonding – the worst abo version, heads up. Underage Peter, omegas are treated very poorly, Peter and Tony don’t know each other beforehand and don’t do great getting to know each other afterwards. Biology continues to fuck Peter over, and Tony really doesn’t get how desperately Peter wants Tony to like him. Mountains and mountains of angst and sad before the happy ending.

Copy - After IW, Tony makes a Peter clone/android/whatever. Unfortunately, it just makes things worse because it’s just enough off to make it super obvious it’s not Peter. And fake!Peter knows it too. He’s just enough like real Peter to fall in love with Tony too, and he can’t figure out how to make Tony care about him instead of real, dead Peter. Not that it matters when he snap is reversed (Tony lives) and fake!Peter isn’t needed or wanted anymore. (Will probably have a sequel where real Peter finds out about all this, probably happy ending for everyone.)

Nothing sticks around - years after the blip, Peter discovers Tony, alive - only Tony has none of his memories. Tony doesn’t want anything to do with these people Peter tries to reintroduce him to; he trusts Peter and wants to stay with him. And does, for quite some time, things turning into a relationship, and even if Peter feels guilty about it, he’s happy. Right up until Tony suddenly remembers everything … except what’s been going on the last few years with Peter. Undecided if there’s a happy ending or not.

I hate time travel - once Tony figures out time travel, he decides he needs to find out if this works by hopping forward and seeing if Peter is back. And then maybe he should hop forward a little more just to check on him. Keeps doing this, about once a year, and while Peter is so glad to see him, it’s destroying Peter to basically go through Tony ‘dying’ over and over. Pretty soon it’s fucking up Tony too, after he accidentally shows up when Peter’s in the middle of sex. Very bittersweet ending to maintain the timeline.

Fuck you, Beck - Beck goes about getting the glasses in the worst ways, and Peter finds out a little too late - way too late when it comes to sleeping with him. Not that he’s going to ever tell anyone about that. Not even Tony, when Tony comes back. Not even Tony, when it turns out Tony is interested. Okay, maybe he’ll have to tell Tony when Peter’s reactions to sex become a problem. Happy ending but lots of ouch on the way.

Sequel to Dormant - so what exactly does Tony notice the morning after? And what exactly does Peter do about it? (Spoiler: A lot more than Peter thought he would, and nothing good.)

Don’t punish people like that – as much Tony/Obie as Tony/Peter, maybe pre-Tony/Peter. Obie decided to deal with Tony’s wild streak by punishing him in an especially awful, painful, dehumanizing, sexual way. Tony’s managed to handle how awful that was by pretending it was helpful (nope!). When Peter will not stop misbehaving, the last resort Tony can think of is what was done to him. It helped, right? (He can’t bring himself to in the end, which sets off a cascading failure of repressed trauma, woot!)

*That's rape, Tony – Tony getting drugged, gangbanged, and recorded, and then having part of it released that looks consensual. Tony doesn't remember enough to say it wasn't, and with his history, people don't question it. It goes over very poorly and he's handling all the parts of it very poorly, and Peter is the one to finally put the pieces together.

Sex Pollen Non-Con – Tony’s hit with some sort of fuck or die stuff; only problem is that he 100% refuses to let Peter do anything, and there’s no one else. Peter, convinced that Tony’s going to die, stops giving Tony a choice. What’s that, the trauma Tony was hoping to spare him is replaced with way worse trauma from basically raping Tony? WHOOPS. (Probably happy ending!)

Secondhand verse – following after this, things growing steadily worse, hotter, and more complex between Peter, Beck, and Tony. Bad decisions all around! Unexpected feelings all around! General unhappiness at having feelings that can be hurt all around! Probably a series of fics.

12:00 - follow up to 11:59, Tony and Peter finally getting it on and Beck being an ass in the background. Also the prequel that’s primarily Peter/Quentin, and possibly a sequel where Tony decides that maybe it wasn’t the worst thing in the world, watching Beck fuck Peter - and Peter liked it, right? Everyone’s down for a totally uncomplicated round two, right? Or three, or four...

(And feel free to talk to me about anything here, I love an excuse to ramble. Also, if something grabs your attention, have fun writing it - the more the merrier!)

[buckthegrump]

Whenever You’re Ready

Summary: Bucky lost the love of his life three years ago and he’s still trying to figure out how to deal with that. But that gets harder when he gets an unexpected visitor.

Warnings: Mentions of death, angst, so much angst, fluff, a whole lot of feelings y’all 

Word Count: 6.2k

A/n: I had this thought and needed to write it

“I’m sorry, sir,” the officer said, “We have reason to believe that -”

Bucky stopped listening after the officer said ‘I’m sorry’. The words ‘I’m sorry’ were never followed by good news. Or even just neutral news, it’s almost exclusively followed by bad news. Especially when the ‘I’m sorry, sir’ comes from a doctor or a police officer.

But it didn’t matter that Bucky had stopped listening because he knew what they were about to say. They were going to tell him that they couldn’t find her body and that they were presuming her dead. But she couldn’t be dead. Y/n had promised that she wouldn’t die on him.

“We also lost his trail,” the officer finished.

“What?” Bucky’s head snapped up.

“He disappeared.”

* * *

Bucky sat up. The room was dark and silent. He glanced at the clock already knowing what time it was 1:35 am. The exact time that he was told that his fiance had been killed. No, not killed. Murdered.

It was the same dream, same memory, every year on the same day and he woke up at the exact same time. He was positive that no matter how many years passed it would be the same. He didn’t know if it would be worse if it was a happy memory that reminded him of what he was missing, or if he should be glad he was stuck with the worst night of his life.

The dream happened for months after and then it slowed to once a month until it only happened on the day.

He could roll over and try to fall back asleep but he knew that he wouldn’t be able to. He threw the covers off of him exposing his legs to the cool air of the room. He got up and made his way to the bathroom.

The water from the shower was as hot as it could possibly be. The hope was that it would get so hot it would burn away the pain, but nothing he tried was taking away the pain. The grief group he went to was just starting to make the pain a little less but -

Hours passed and the once nearly boiling water turned to ice against his back. All he wanted was to stay in the shower but he was meeting friends soon.

At 9:30 Bucky got into his car and drove to the cafe. Sam and Steve were waiting for him when he walked in. His friends decided that day when Bucky found out that he shouldn’t be alone on that day and so every year on that day, they would take the day off and spend all day together.

Sam was the first one to spot Bucky, he smiled and waved. 

“You were almost late, Barnes,” Sam said calling Steve’s attention to the new arrival.

“Well,” Bucky said as he sat down in the empty chair at the table, “I don’t think I could be late anywhere.”

Sam and Steve chuckled slightly at this. They remember the countless fights that Y/n and Bucky got into about being late versus showing up at least five minutes early. Y/n won and now ever since Bucky’s been on time for everything.

“How are you doing, Buck?” Steve asked. Bucky shrugged. “Did you have the dream again?”

“Yeah,” Bucky whispered. “I pulled out one of her dresses the other day, it doesn’t smell like her anymore. And I’m having trouble remembering the last time I told her that I loved her. But the day I found out she was dead -” he laughed humorlessly, “that day I can remember perfectly. It’s really fucked up when you think about it.”

Sam began talking about one thing or another and the conversation started flowing easily. And for a while, Bucky’s heart didn’t feel as heavy as he knew it was but it was nice to feel lighter.

After their coffee, they all went to watch a movie that ended up being terrible. It was about a man who didn’t know the ‘real’ value of life until his wife left him and took the kids. Sam leaned over and whispered snarky comments in Bucky’s ear. Bucky only heard about half of them, the ones he did hear were rather funny.

But Bucky couldn’t help but think about how lucky this guy was that he got a second chance. That he was able to go back to his wife and tell him everything on his mind, and Bucky would give anything to have that chance.

* * *

After the movie, Bucky got into his car and when he looked into the rearview mirror he saw Y/n. He gasped and looked out the windshield and then back into the mirror but she was no longer there. He let out a sigh of relief.

“What’s your problem?”

Bucky’s head snapped to his passenger seat where Y/n sat. She was looking at him.

“What?” She asked with a cheeky smile.

He turned back toward the wheel of the car and started driving.

“Did I do something?” She asked clicking her seatbelt into place. “Are you mad at me? Is it because I said that Star Wars isn’t as revolutionary as Legally Blonde? Because I’m right I don’t know why you’re trying to fight it, I’m always right? Also, do you think Firefly might be overrated? Because I have a theory that if they had more seasons it would’ve been one of those shows that started out great but then just ended terribly.”

Bucky gripped the steering wheel as tightly as he could. His bottom lip was shaking and every breath felt like it might be his last. She continued to talk like this was an everyday occurrence. Like Bucky hadn’t been slowly dying from the inside out because the love of his life, his soulmate had left him to live in this world without her.

“Ok, baby blue,” the nickname made Bucky tear up, “what is up? Is this because of the Star Wars thing? Or have you changed your mind about marrying me?”

“Never,” he whispered. He glanced over at her half afraid that once he acknowledged her she would disappear. She was still there beaming at him with her wild eyes that sparkled and her hair pulled back in two french braids.

“Good, because I was thinking about some things that should happen for the wedding,” Y/n continued to talk wedding the rest of the way home.

At every turn, Bucky was sure that she would vanish but she didn’t, she just talked and didn’t mind that Bucky wasn’t saying much of anything (which wasn’t too different than when she was alive). He was just going to see this time as a gift. Live in this fantasy for the rest of the day because there was no way that this would continue after he fell asleep.

While Bucky was getting ready for bed Y/n sat in bed and watched him.

“Wow,” she said in her best Owen Wilson voice, “My fiance is hot as fuck.”

Bucky snickered and rolled his eyes. He climbed into bed, he laid on his stomach head faced towards the ghost of his dead fiancee.

“Goodnight gumdrop,” he muttered.

“Sleep tight, baby blue,” she whispered and Bucky could’ve sworn that he felt her kiss his forehead.

And for the first time in what felt like forever, Bucky Barnes fell asleep with a smile on his face.

* * *

The first thing that registered was a horn blaring past him. He blinked his eyes a few times trying to figure out what was happening. He was in his car stopped on the side of the road off of US 26. It was dark outside and he was on the portion of the highway that was surrounded by a forest.

He looked to his passenger seat but just like he suspected Y/n wasn’t there. The more concerning issue was; how did he get here? And why was it 2 am?

He chalked it up to sleepwalking and drove back home. He flopped back into bed instantly going back to sleep.

* * *

Bucky spent most of his day at work on autopilot, but that was no different than any other godforsaken day. Tony, his business partner, barged into his office an hour before quittin’ time.

“What do you want Stark?” Bucky asked not taking his eyes off the screen.

“I was thinking about something the other day,” Tony paced in front of Bucky’s desk, “I know we mostly work with veterans who are dealing with PTSD but we should set up a foundation that also helps with the spouses and the significant others of vets or people who died overseas.”

Bucky froze before actually looking at Tony. He didn’t say anything so Tony, being a babbler, started to babble.

“I mean we could open it up to everyone else that lost someone because I know that you had a tough time coming back to work, and it’s ridiculous that society puts a time limit on grieving. So I was thinking that we set those up. And before you ask yes I was a little apprehensive about bringing this up to you because I wasn’t sure how you would react -”

“I like it,” Bucky cut him off.

“Good, because I kind of already set the plan in motion.” Tony gave him a thumbs up and promptly left the office.

This wasn’t an unusual thing, Tony having an idea and setting it in motion before consulting with Bucky. Luckily over the years, Bucky had gotten good at retroactively putting things to a stop when needed.

Bucky really did like the idea of setting up another foundation that helped people with the grieving of a lost loved one and mentally kicked himself for not coming up with the idea himself.

* * *

Bucky had snagged a coveted seat on the light rail train that ran through the city. It wasn’t a subway because it wasn’t underground, which Bucky (and most of the people in the city) found ridiculous because that meant when it got too hot outside the train was only able to go so fast.

And being the end of July the annual heatwave was rolling into town. The AC on the train was only doing so much during rush hour and people were packed in tight.

Bucky was doing his very best to ignore the discomfort by reading a book, but the book was getting boring and had recycled the same plotline about three times now and he was only halfway through. 

Just as he was closing the book the train came to an abrupt stop and someone fell into his lap.

She looked at him wide-eyed. 

“Sorry,” she grimaced.

And it felt like the whole world froze. There was no one else in the world but them and she literally took his breath away with one word. He was certain he’d never seen anyone quite as beautiful as she, just as he was sure he would never find someone more beautiful.

“It’s ok,” he breathed. “I’m Bucky.”

She smiled at him and Bucky’s heart nearly burst out of his chest. “Y/n.”

“So,” he was very conscious of the fact that she hadn’t moved out of his lap, “do you make it a habit of falling into people’s laps?”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Are you trying to flirt with me?”

“Is it working?”

She chuckled softly and got out of his lap. “If it was, how do you see this conversation ending?”

“Best case scenario?” He asked and she nodded. “Exchanging numbers and dinner plans.”

She pulled out her phone, quickly unlocked it, and handed it over to Bucky. “Let me apologize for literally falling into your lap.”

“There’s really no need to apologize,” he said as he took her phone and put his number in.

When he handed it back she typed something in then looked back at him. “This is my stop. I’ll see ya around Bucky.”

Bucky watched dumbstruck as she hopped off the train at the stop. A second after she disappeared into the crowd his phone buzzed. An unknown number had texted him a simple message: Y/n Y/l/n.

* * *

The next time Bucky saw Y/n was when he went to get after-work drinks with Tony, Steve, and Sam. It had been a month since the anniversary and the next day Tony and Bucky were launching their new foundation.

Steve was telling a story about a date he’d had recently and Tony and Sam were just taking the piss out of him for everything that he’d done wrong on the date.

Bucky looked up in the middle of the story and found Y/n standing next to the jukebox staring at the options. She turned her head towards him and smiled. He blinked and when he opened his eyes she was gone.

He didn’t see her again for the rest of the night.

But the next morning around 5 am, a full hour before he would get up to go to the gym, he woke up on the side of the road again. It was the same spot as the last time. As Bucky drove home he kept his eyes peeled for any hit and runs, he wasn’t sure what he would do if he ended up hitting someone with his car while he sleepwalked.

* * *

Her skin was soft beneath his fingers as he drew lines across her skin. She let out a sigh as she slept next to him soundly. Bucky had woken up with the sun on that particular Saturday and he knew for a fact that Y/n would be pissed if he woke her up.

So he laid there with her and watched her sleep. He pressed a soft kiss to her bare shoulder and she shifted so she now she was laying on her side with her nose nuzzled into her pillow.

“Y/n, are you awake?” He asked softly. He smiled when she didn’t answer. “You don’t know this yet, but I’m going to propose to you. I don’t know when or how but I have the ring. I think you’ll like it, and I hope you say yes. God, I have no idea what I’ll do if you say no. Please don’t say no.”

She continued to sleep soundly, breathing deeply. He brushed his thumb across her eyebrow. The only time she looked this at peace was when she was sleeping, or after Bucky had shown her what she did to him.

“I love you,” he whispered.

A few seconds later she groaned and made the same noise she always did when she woke up, a small whimper that her night’s sleep was over. She opened an eye and looked at him.

“Were you watching me sleep again?” She asked in a hoarse voice. Bucky h’mmed in response. “You fuckin’ creep.”

“Oh yeah, because I’ve never caught you watching me sleep,” he chuckled.

“Uhh, when I watch you sleep it’s to make sure that you’re still breathing. Some times you’re sleeping so deeply I’m afraid that you’re dead,” she argued fully awake now. “Please don’t die on me.”

Not caring that neither of them had brushed their teeth yet, he kissed her lips softly. “I won’t as long as you promise to wait until we’re both well into our 80s or 90s.”

“Deal, but I hope you know that when I do die, I’m going to come back and haunt your ass so you’ll never actually be able to get over me and date someone else. I’m selfish like that.”

“I don’t want anyone else,” Bucky admitted.

“Well, when you say things like that it makes me feel bad for finding Sam really attractive. I hope you know that if you break your promise, I’m definitely turning to him for comfort and then we’ll fall in love and have a million babies,” she teased.

“Oh, a million babies?”

“Oh yeah, one million babies, and they’d be so much cuter than any babies you and I would have.” She smiled smugly until Bucky poked her sides and started tickling her. She giggled. “No!” 

“Take it back!” 

But she didn’t she just kept laughing and swatting at his hands. After a minute or two, he stopped and kissed her again. He paused and looked at her, really looked at her in the morning sunlight that peaked through the drapes of their bedroom window. He leaned over to his nightstand and opened the drawer and dug around for something.

“What are you doing?” She sat up and leaned against the headboard. Bucky turned around holding a ring. It was simple enough, it was a white gold band with a blue sapphire with two smaller diamonds on either side of it but the gems on the ring were huge. “What are you doing?” She repeated.

“I have been waiting for the right time, the perfect time to do this but I realized that when doesn’t matter. The perfect time wouldn’t make a difference, what matters is the person. You might not be a perfect person but neither am I, but you are the perfect person for me. So Y/n, I’m breaking one of your rules and asking you a question before breakfast,” he extended his arm slightly so the ring was closer to her, “Will you marry me?”

Y/n gasped shakily as tears welled up in her eyes. “Yes, of course!”

Bucky took her left hand and slid the ring on her finger, thanking the heavens that it fit. He stared at the ring as it sat on her finger.

“Are you not going to kiss me or anything?” Y/n asked snapping Bucky out of his daze.

“Neither of us have brushed our teeth and your morning breath is so bad -”

“My mom just called, she says that I can’t marry you.”

Bucky shook his head at his fiancee. “Shut up,” he chuckled and kissed her.

* * *

One Saturday, early January, Bucky was eating his cereal staring at Y/n or her ghost or whatever she was.

“Can I help you?” She asked cocking her head to the side.

“Are you a ghost?” He asked.

“You already know what I am, Barnes,” she answered solemnly. “You’re just afraid of what it means if you’re right.”

“But if you’re a hallucination,” his voice broke as he spoke, “that means you’re not real.”

“If I was real then you wouldn’t be keeping the fact that you can see me a secret?” She leaned back in her chair.

“I could just have a fever,” he reasoned.

“You’ve been seeing me off and on for months. If your fever had lasted this long you’d probably be dead,” she propped her elbow on the table and rested her chin in her hand.

“So what’s wrong with me?” He asked, cereal long forgotten.

“I don’t know,” she shrugged then gasped. “Maybe I’m a vision from a god or some higher power. Here to tell you that you’re missing something.”

“But what would I be missing?” Tears began to fall down his face.

“Do you not miss me?”

“I miss you every goddamn day but there’s not much I can do about that.” There was a brief silence and Bucky found himself wishing that she was actually something he could touch, not an uncommon wish for him. “I should go see a doctor, shouldn’t I?”

Y/n gave him a sad smile and Bucky pulled out his phone.

* * *

Y/n was sitting on the couch with Bucky, her legs on his lap and he was going over something that Tony had sent him. Bucky was petting her legs.

“Why are you petting my legs like a dog?” She asked pulling one of her headphones out of her ear. “You know I’m not into pet play.”

Bucky stopped his movements and glared at her. “Must you make everything dirty?”

She grinned. “Yes.”

Bucky shook his head and put the stack of papers down on the coffee table. He crawled over so his head was on Y/n’s stomach without missing a beat she started running her fingers through his hair. He moaned at the feeling and closed his eyes.

“What are you listening to?” He asked his voice muffled but the fabric of her shirt and her tummy.

“The podcast My Favorite Murder,” she said. “If you just gave it a chance you might enjoy it.”

“Why are you so obsessed with true crime?”

“Well if I’m prepared for it then I have a better chance of surviving and listening to how fucked up people are, helps me learn what to do if I’m ever in that situation.”

He chuckled softly, he lifted his head and looked at her. “You realize the chances of you getting murdered are very slim right? Besides, I’ll protect you if that ever becomes a real possibility.”

“Yes,” she rolled her eyes, “You’re very strong and manly. Will you please just listen to this one story about people who live on an island and one of the couples shares a pair of stainless steel teeth?”

Bucky didn’t really have that much of an interest in true crime, but he’d be lying if he said that story didn’t sound interesting.

“Fine, but just that one story,” he said, “You’re not going to hook me on this.”

He lied, she got him hooked on that podcast and any time they came out with a new episode they either listened to it together or texted the other if they were apart.

* * *

Bucky was listening to the podcast that Y/n had gotten him hooked on. He was sitting in the waiting room for the doctor and Y/n was in the chair across from him watching him closely. He was doing his best to just listen to the podcast but her stare was making that hard.

“Barnes?” A nurse called. 

Bucky sprung up from his seat and followed the nurse back into the exam room.

“Bucky Barnes,” the doctor greeted when she walked in.

“Dr. Cho,” Bucky greeted.

“What seems to be the problem?” She asked settling into the office chair in the room.

“I keep seeing my dead fiancee,” he said bluntly.

Dr. Cho pursed her lips and nodded her head. “Are you sleeping well?”

“Yeah,” he said completely forgetting about the sleepwalking he’s been doing.

“How long has it been going on?” She asked making a note in her chart.

“It’s off and on for a few months.”

“But not all the time?”

“No.”

Dr. Cho sighed. “Well, it might be a psychological thing if that’s the case the next plan of action would be to see a psychiatrist.”

“And another option?” Bucky asked though he already knew the answer.

“That you have some sort of brain tumor,” she answered and Bucky’s entire body sagged, “So I will schedule you for an MRI, but I would also like fo you to talk to someone.”

Bucky nodded silently agreeing with her.

After he got home that day he looked into some highly rated therapists and when he talked to his friends about it they all had suggestions for him.

* * *

The hauntingly familiar sound of a horn blaring startled Bucky awake again. He was sitting in his car that was idling with the radio playing quietly. The clock in his car told him it was 4 am. When he looked around he noticed that it was the same part of 26 that it usually was.

He really needed to find a way to stop himself from sleep-driving.

* * *

The room was eerily quiet. Bucky picked at his jeans pretending to rid them of pieces of fluff that didn’t exist. He’d been sitting in this room for almost half an hour silently, other than the initial hellos.

“You won’t know if this works until you talk to me and we are able to start a discussion,” Maria Hill, his new therapist told him.

“I know, I just don’t know where to start,” he said.

“Start from the beginning.”

So he did. He told her the story of how he met Y/n and falling in love with her and then proposing. He only wavered a bit when it came to the birthday party he’d planned for you.

* * *

“Are you sure you sent her the right time?” Natasha asked.

“Yes,” Bucky answered.

Natasha had asked that question about five times and it didn’t matter that Bucky had shown her the text that said he’d told Y/n to meet him at the restaurant at 6:30. Nor did it matter that Y/n had texted at 5 saying ‘hey love, I’m going to be a little late the meeting is running long and I still have to talk to some people afterward.’  

No, none of that mattered to Natasha who was nervous that Y/n would hate the surprise.

Bucky had set up a dinner for Y/n’s birthday. She thought it was just going to be her and him but Bucky had also invited all their friends because Y/n had started complaining that they didn’t all hang out together anymore.

Natasha was th only one who was worried for the first ten minutes of Y/n not showing up. After that everyone started to get more and more concerned about her unusual tardiness. Until they all decided to call the cops.

* * *

“They didn’t believe us at first,” Bucky told Maria. “They said that we had to wait 48 hours before we could officially file a missing person’s report. But we knew. It didn’t matter to them that Y/n was never late and if she was she would’ve called or texted. They thought she was running from me.”

Maria was quiet as Bucky took a tissue to blow his nose. 

“They never found her body either, isn’t that just a kick in the nuts?” Bucky laughed sardonically. “And the last thing I told her to her face was ‘just so you know you lost the game’ which might be the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”

Maria gave him a confused look. “The game?”

“It’s this thing where once you start playing the game you can never stop and the way to win the game is by not thinking about it but once you think about it you’ve lost the game,” Bucky explained.

“That’s counter-intuitive.”

“That’s the game.” Bucky shrugged. “I’ve also been seeing her.”

“Natasha?”

“No, Y/n. Not all the time but sometimes. We talk and I know it’s crazy but I like being able to talk to her again.” Bucky bounced his leg as he thought for a moment. “I’ve also been sleepwalking. More like driving.”

“What?” Maria looked shocked.

“Not all the time, but sometimes I’ll wake up to find myself in my car stopped on the side of the road. It’s the same spot every time, I never hit anyone or anything as far as I can tell.”

“Well, there are ways to get around sleepwalking maybe have a friend spend the night to stop you from getting into your car, set up an alarm system, I can send you a list of what some of my other clients have found helpful.”

* * *

A week after his therapy appointment Bucky was in the hospital for his MRI. 

It wasn’t until he was in the machine when he heard her voice.

“I hope you still have that amazing insurance because MRIs are not cheap,” she said and Bucky held back the urge to roll his eyes, “Are you ignoring me because you don’t want to look crazy in front of the doctors? Because you know that they know why you’re here right? They already know you’re crazy.”

As Bucky lay there for the rest of the scan Y/n sang a song that had been stuck in Bucky’s head for the past week. When he came out of the machine she was standing there in the corner of the room. He didn’t say anything but he made eye contact with her.

“You’re still missing it,” she said. He furrowed his brows at her. “Bucky you’re missing it.”

An hour later Bucky was sitting in front of a neuro doctor.

“There’s nothing showing up on the MRI,” Dr. Banner told him, “Medically? You are fine, Mr. Barnes.”

“Thank you, doctor.”

* * *

It happened again. He woke up on the side of the road in his idling car. But this time the sun was just beginning to rise. Bucky slammed his hands against the steering wheel before turning his car around to head back home.

He was about halfway home when something realized something. It was what Y/n had told him about missing something.

Every time he’d woken up on the side of the road it was after he’d seen Y/n. That’s the only time he’d sleepwalked was the night after all of the hallucinations. Which made him wonder, why that particular spot?

He could’ve gone home and just ignored his thought for the rest of the day but that might actually kill him.

He flipped a u-y and drove back to the spot. He pulled over on the shoulder. When he got out of the car he took a few deep breaths. 

Not really knowing what he was going to find or if he was going to find anything be began walking through the forest.

“This is the part of the horror movie where I die because I’m walking through a forest because a hallucination told me to. If Y/n could see you now she’d kill you for being stupid. Also if you get murdered they are definitely going to make fun of you on all the podcasts for being a complete idiot,” he mumbled to himself as he stumbled through the foliage and brush of the forest floor.

He walked for about a mile or two before he came across a small cabin in the middle of nowhere.

“What the hell?” He whispered to himself.

Then someone from inside the cabin let out an ear-piercing scream. Bucky finally had a logical thought and pulled out his phone to call 911. They told him to stay on the phone with him and they were sending units to him.

The screaming had stopped and Bucky almost went into the cabin. It was only a few minutes later when he heard the sirens and the officers came and two pairs walked over to the cabin and went in. Bucky was standing next to an officer who was told to wait with him.

There was a gunshot, not long after one of the officers made a call over the radio for an ambulance because there was a girl in the cabin who needed medical attention.

The officer that hung around with Bucky took his statement as they waited for the ambulance. Giving the statement to the officer was a blur and he tried to find a way to tell the officer that visions of Y/n had led him here without actually telling him that.

When the EMTs made it through the forest the ‘girl’ was escorted out of the cabin and Bucky’s heart dropped. There was a woman walking with the officer who looked so much like Y/n but her hair was unkempt and looked like she hadn’t eaten in years.

But then her eyes met his.

“James?” 

“Y/n?” He asked and his voice broke. Bucky didn’t wait for her to answer again as he ran over to her, how he managed not to trip over anything was a mystery to him. He stopped right in front of her. “Is that really you?”

Y/n let go of the officer and lifted her hands to his cheeks. She gently touched his face and he leaned into her touch. He was almost sure that at any moment he was going to wake up from this dream to an empty bed.

“You found me,” Y/n whispered before collapsing into Bucky’s arms.

* * *

Bucky sat next to her hospital bed and watched her. He was afraid that she would disappear. But he could touch her, he could feel her again. But he wouldn’t. Not until she made the first move, he wouldn’t make her do anything she didn’t want to do, he didn’t even know what’d happened in there.

The detectives that had come around informed him that any number of things could’ve happened during those three years and she would be a very different person now. That she would need countless hours of counseling.

Y/n had been unconscious since she fainted outside the cabin. Bucky knew he should call everyone, tell them that Y/n was alive, but he also knew that they would all want to come and see her so he settled for the two people who needed to know. Tony, because there was no way in hell Bucky was going into work today or anytime this week. And Natasha, because Nat would kick his ass if he kept this from him. 

Everyone else could wait until Y/n woke up and was ready for visitors.

* * *

Natasha had come in an hour after Bucky called and cried into his shoulder. She’d stayed for a while before Bucky told her to go home and that he would call her the instant Y/n woke up. Natasha had been reluctant at first but agreed because it didn’t look like Y/n was going to wake up anytime soon.

Which wasn’t true because an hour after Natasha left Y/n’s eyes fluttered open. She looked over to find Bucky wide awake watching her sleep.

Y/n gave him the smallest of smiles that somehow still took his breath away.

“You were watching me sleep,” she croaked.

“I thought you were dead -” he stared and had an apology on the tip of his tongue but she cut him off.

“Don’t apologize for not looking for me,” she ordered.

“But -”

“No,” she said firmly. “You were working with what you had.”

“How ok are you? Scale from one to ten.”

“If one is I’m dead, I’m gonna go with a one-point-five.” A tear fell from her eye and Bucky wanted nothing more than to wipe it away. Her lip began to tremble. “Um, he uhh -”

“You don’t have to tell me,” Bucky cut her off. “Not yet.”

There was a silence that Bucky didn’t know if he should fill or not. He knew what he wanted to tell her, but he wasn’t sure if he should if it would be what she wanted to hear.

“I’ll understand if you don’t want me anymore,” she told him. “I know that three years isn’t really a long time but if you don’t -”

“You can’t get rid of me that easy, gumdrop,” he told her and a sob escaped her lips. “I’d go get you another ring tonight. I meant what I said when I told you that you are the perfect person for me. And I still want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

“But baby blue, I’ve changed. I’m not the same person I was. I’ve done things -”

“Y/n, neither of us are the same person we were three years ago. And whatever you did, kept you alive,” he said, he could feel the tears welling up in his eyes. “So yeah, we have some stuff to work out but my heart belongs to you and you alone. And I’m not giving up on you.”

Y/n reached out her hand for Bucky and he took it. Her frail hands wrapped around his one, they were cold. He could only imagine the rest of her body was just as cold.

“You still wanna marry me?” She asked softly.

“Do you still want to marry me?” He pulled over a chair not removing his hand from hers and sat down.

She nodded. “But I’m not ready to. Does that make sense? Like, I wanna be ready.”

“I would wait forever for you,” he told her.

“So you lied,” she sighed and he furrowed his brows at her. “Clearly, you couldn’t have changed that much you’re still the cheesiest person on the face of the planet.”

Bucky scoffed and pressed a gentle kiss to her hand. “Promise me you’ll let me know if you don’t want me to do something. Like if I touch you in a way you don’t like, you have to let me know. I never want to be the reason you’re in pain.”

“Ok,” she whispered. “Where’s everyone else?”

“I only called Natasha and Tony today because I wasn’t sure how you would react to a room full of people wanting to see you. I can call them if you want and get them here.”

“Not yet, I haven’t seen you in three years,” she played with his fingers. She hadn’t let him go as if she had been touch starved for so long.

“Ok, whenever you’re ready.”

And yes they had things that they would have to work out together and individually, but Bucky meant it when he said that he wasn’t going to give up on her.

[moon-caramel]

Roses & Thorns | K.N.J

❣  Chapter 1: “Strange meetings”

→ Pairing: Kim Namjoon ( ft. Kim Taehyung )

→ Gendre: College au. / BTS as a frat house

→ Summary: a past history with Taehyun leave so broken you separated of any social interaction, Namjoon shows up he won't leave, to heal your broken heart and put that beautiful smile back in your face

→ Warnings /for chapter: slightly signs of anxiety, angst, smut, oral (female and male), fingering, overstimulation, protected sex, dirty talk kinda?

→ Word count: 6044

*now

The third year in college, everything was already become a routine in your life, wake up, go to class, get food, do your homework, sleep. That was your life, every day in college, you would think a third-year student of literature student would be better, not that you were expecting to be in a party every night, but you started to avoid every sign of fun, and friends, you knew exactly why, you were better this way, that’s what you tell yourself every time you feel sad, you felt empty, but you were safe.

You were in line for a coffee, at this time of your life you had more caffeine than blood in your veins, you heard the conversation of the two girls in your back, you were never the kind of person that liked to hear gossips, but this girls were so loud everyone in the cafeteria could hear them

“Wait so did you guys do it?”

“do what?”

“Ohh come on, don’t play innocent with me, you know”

“well duh, I wasn’t gonna loss the opportunity, and O MY GOD, he was incredible”

“Oh god, I can’t believe you had sex with Kim Taehyung, THE Kim Taehyung”

The single name made you shook, you felt like you were about to throw up, the room starting to spin around, that name, that cursed name, you expect to never hear from him ever again, he was the reason why you avoided parties, just to not run into him, he was the reason why you stopped hanging around with your friends because just like that they were his friends too, he was the reason why you life become so sad and empty.

The girls were still giggling about the subject while you order a coffee to go, you wanted to leave that place as soon as possible. When someone finally said your name you rush to the man holding your coffee, you took your cafe and rush to the door, not bothering to put some sugar as you like it.

You didn’t notice but someone was there, someone who lifts his head at the mention of your name, Kim Namjoon, the leader of the BTS fraternity house, someone who used to be your friend. He was focused on the material of the book to notice you before, but as soon as he heard your name, something clicked inside him, he knew that name, that’s when he saw you, you looked tired, bags under your eyes, you haven’t slept in years, and for some reason, he felt like you haven’t smiled either, he wanted to rush to you, talk to you, know how you been, but you walk to fast to the door, and he only saw you leave, again, why did he felt this pain in his chest, why did he wanted to run after you.

*Then

You’ve heard about Kim Taehyung the first semester of your first year, girls couldn’t avoid saying his name whenever the topic of which guy they wanted to be. some talk about how they want to be one his under him, or on top, some of them like to believe they can’t “cure” him, tame the famous bad fuck boy, and you, you just wanted to have fun with him, no love story, teenage dream cliche, people talk about how good Taehyung was, and you wanted that, no complicated story, but he wasn’t an easy person to reach, despite many girls that throw themself to him, he was picky, he didn’t have a particular physical taste, neither about gender from what you heard of, but he simply didn’t take just a random person to his bed, so how would you reach him? You had no idea.

—

You were late for your class, Tuesday morning, where the worst, on Monday, is easy to wake up because of the rest you give yourself on the weekends, Monday are also tiring, sucking the life out of you, if dementors were a day, they would be Monday, so in Tuesday you were more tired and sleepy than other days.

You reach the class just 2 minutes late, lucky for you the teacher was not there yet, you look for any good empty seat, and you find Jungkook waving his hand at you, then pointed at an empty chair next to him,

“Hi, thank god you’re early,” you said while sitting next to him

“Thank god you worn me about you being lazy on Tuesday.”

“I’m not I’m lazy, I just find hard to get up in the morning”

Jungkook giggle at your excuse, then he asked you to save the seat next to you, apparently for his roommate

“Wait, if he’s your roommate why are you here early and he isn’t?”

“Well I got early to work out, and I change in the showers” you nod “But he should be here in any minute” Jungkook continued talking while he was looking through the door. “ There he is” he lift his arm to call the attention of his roommate.

You saw the young boy coming to you two you, he wasn’t as tall as Jungkook, his hair look soft, like cotton candy, he looked so young to be considered a college student, and his lips were something you couldn’t stop looking.

“Well someone pretty late” Jungkook said cutting you off of admired his roommate. “Sit next to ___, this is ___ by the way” Jungkook pointed at you and you turn to his cute roommate to give him a small hi at him “___ this is Jimin"

Jimin smile at you while he was sitting (damm his lips were even cuter when he smile)

"Hi Jimin” you said

“Hi ___ ” he answers you again with his cute smile.

“So why are you late? I thought you were coming here early

"Ahh it’s not my fault, someone distracted me on the way here”

“Did you get distracted looking at girls?” Jungkook ask

“No, it was this guy”

“You got distracted looking at a guy?” Jungkook answer with a dork smirk.

“You are childish” Jimin answer back. “No, this dude invited me to his frat party this weekend”

“What kind of frat ?” you ask

Before Jimin could answer you the teacher enter the classroom making everyone quite, “this class will be fun” Jungkook joke.

—

By the end of the class, you three wherein the cafeteria, talking about the project of the teacher left, you three decided to do in a group.

“wait, I forgot to ask, what is it with the frat dude that invited you to a party?” Jungkook ask to Jimin

“ah yea, he was recruiting new students for his fraternity, that’s why he invited me”

“doesn’t that usually works the other way around” the two boys turn their head at you as you continued “I mean, aren’t supposed to be the students that goes to this frat house and ask to be part of it, so then they suffer for the year at the mercy of the older guys” Jungkook nodded while Jimin start talking

“Yea, that’s not how they work, he told me this university has banned that kind of activities, you know there humiliating after all”

“so are they taking just random people? “Jungkook ask

“not really, this dude said they had a lot of people asking to be in, but they have their system, where first you needed to be invited.”

“that sound exclusive” you said while sipping on your tea

“yea, but so he invited you? just like that? how?” Jungkook

“well he said, um… that I was good looking to be part of his frat”

You almost joke on your tea, not because the idea of Jimin being a good looking person was ridiculous, (because he was) but it was kinda weird the idea of just being good looking was enough to enter a such popular and yet new frat. (the idea sounded kinda vain)

Jungkook eyes almost pop out of his face, you thought he thinks the same thing about it.

“wait that’s it?”

Jimin nodded

“I think I should go to, I’m better looking than you after all” he said after smiling.

(apparently, he didn’t though the same)

“___, don’t you think I’m good looking?”

You were still kinda shocked, you didn’t know what to answer until Jimin beat you to speak

“still that not enough, This dude said we still needed to pass some challenges, nothing humiliating, but still need to do it”

“Still I think I can be in this famous frat” Jungkook rested his hand to his head with a proud face “what do think?” he asked you

“Uhm,” Jimin turned to you too. “ I don’t know, I mean, this fraternity it’s new and yet already just popular, that must be good, I think, but still that and the good looking reason sound kinda, weird”

“yea I think that to” Jimin nodded with you “but still I think I’ll give it a chance, you never know”

“can I go?” Jungkook asks, leaning in the table like a six-year-old child.

“Yea, the dude gave me his number so I will ask”

“what’s his name?” you asked

“Seokjin, Kim Seokjin”

The full week past on fast enough you didn’t notice, Friday night you were just getting out of the shower to your room, Jimin had told Jungkook and you were more than welcome to come, so you were preparing yourself for the night, you didn’t think about what you would gonna wear, you decided for something simple, some dark blue jeans, a grey t-shirt and converse, first-year student always tended to prepare too much for parties, and you didn’t want to look like a newbie in your first party, simple and natural makeup, in case something happens you couldn’t ruined it, you were fixing your hair when Jungkook text you to meet him and Jimin outside, You grabbed your leather jacket and write a note in the door for your roommate saying would be out for the night.

*now

Creative writing was your favorite class, kinda therapeutic, you had a free pass to write about anything, and reflect about it. You were looking through the scattered notes on your black notebook, using the free time your teacher gave all of you to order them, see if you could create something with all the mess, you reach your coffee and sipped, you were discussed at the tasted, you wished you could at least grab some sugar bags, you swallowed the bitter liquid, with less disgust. you lift your face from the notebook, you watched your classmates talking with each other. mouth talking without sound, you were wearing your headphones, so you didn’t hear anything, but you could guess what they were talking, anything, plans for the weekend, what they wrote for their essay, the last episode of whatever show was on trend now these days, they could talk about anything, suddenly you felt like the room was moving again, not spinning around, you feel yourself being pushed back from the classroom, it was like you always felt, especially in big crowds, it was weird how you started to feel so comfortable in your loneliness, but with people around you feel so sad, and alone. you knew why you feel like this, you were the one who pushed everyone outside from your life. You were the one who decided to spend all your free time, and Friday night alone in your room, you always thought you would get over it someday, one day when the pain fades away you could be happy, but it didn’t, you felt sad when you were around people, and always afraid.

Why is it that you were the one suffering? you hated yourself for it. You know you didn’t do anything wrong, yet it was your heart the one who broke, it was you who hide from everyone.

You shake your head, thinking about your broken feelings would only make you worse, that’s a past story, and you need to think in the present, try to move forward.

The professor stood up, he talked about how happy he was with every essay he read, and he’ll give the result next class. You put the black notebook back in your bag, walking to the door.

“miss ___, can I talk to you for a minute” your professor call, you nodded and walk to his desk while the rest of the class headed to the door.

“It’s something wrong with my paper ?”

“oh, no your paper it’s good” he said giving you a kind smiled, you smiled back “but it’s not that amazing” your smiled banished you where so confuse now, what does that mean, you were the best of the class, what was missing in your writing

“I’m sorry professor, but, I don’t understand”

“Well you see, your writing it’s good, I enjoy it a lot, but It does feel like there’s something you are not expressing like you’re stucking in the basic”

You felt bad, you took this as an elective class, but it turned to be your favorite, and professor Cruz had his ways with the student, he had always known which had a future as a writer and took them under his wings. Failing in this little way made you sad, you didn’t want to disappoint him.

“there’s this new workshop about creative writing, it’s more didactic in a way and less, well less lecture from me, my best student it’s going to lead it, so you should take it, I think it will help you”

“I thought I was your best student”

He drops a soft giggle at this answer of you, of course, you were you favorite, but still, there was other brilliants student. “well, If you start freeing yourself a little more, you might pass this one”

*then

The party was not that you expected, as your brother once said to you, ‘don’t believe everything you see in movies’. The BTS frat house party semed divided for every section of the rooms, people were dancing in what it looked like the dining room, people chatting or speaking drunkenly in the living room, some couple making out in the couch, in the front yard lines of people waiting for a chance to get in, as you guested some first-year student were dress to produce, high heels, tiny dresses, and too much makeup, you feel a little sorry for them, the only way to get in the party was showing a photo of the BTS logo and a code under it, Jimin send you and Jungkook the photo via message, apparently you three were the only student of the first year.

You were walking to the backyard with Jungkook, Jimin call both your name for you to come.

”____ ! Jungkook! Come here, this is Seokjin"

Jimin pointed out a tall with broad shoulder and dark hair, he turns around to look at the two of you, his checks soft and spongy pink lips, it seems like this concept of beautiful men was a hard rule to this frat.

“ha hello, I’m Seokjin, but you can call me Jin, or worldwide handsome if you please”

He was handsome, yes he could reach worldwide title for sure.

“I’m Jungkook, as you can see equally handsome, you could say more from Jimin, so I could be a great addition to the BTS frat.”

Jimin expression and yours could read simply as “this bitch” towards Jungkook

“well you are good looking, and you go straight to point if you don’t cause any trouble I might considerer.”

Jin turn to you, you knew it was your turn to talk but something in your system blocked out after meeting his eyes like a black lake shining, Jesus Christ, these people are too damn good looking

“I… I’m ____”

“hi ____, I’ll tell you if we could be allowed to let girls join the fraternity you’ll be the first in the list” he took your hand a leave a soft kiss in your knuckles, the feeling of his lips softly pressed in your hand made something tickle in your stomach.

You couldn’t avoid flushing, this tall handsome guy was telling you were good looking, sure you were cute, you had your charm, but you felt like nothing compared to this guy.

“a..? thank you”

“please Jin, don’t scare her or she’ll never come back to this house” Jimin pushed back Jin’s hand from yours, saving you from turning redder.

“You don’t need to protect her that much, I don’t bite” Jin turn his face back at you and whisper close “unless you ask me”

Jin was charming, maybe too much, but you would let that affect you, not that fast at least. “thanks, I’ll think about it”

“Aah, don’t leave hanging” He put one of his hand in his chest, acting in pain, you laugh at his dramatic act.

You talk with the boys for a while, you learned more about Jin and how they started the BTS fraternity house, it had a lot to do with getting more credit, everyone get big opportunities naming their fraternity name in jobs interview, but saying you created one and was a success from the beginning was better, you were surprised, these men were far smarter than you tough. You excused yourself to the kitchen when you noted your empty cup, the kitchen room was the first crossing the door to the house from the backyard, thank god you didn’t want to cross the sea of people again.

There were few people in there, most of them, come to make themself a drink and leave after that, you looked at the bottles in the top of the island, Vodka, Gin and a lot of beer, you already felt tipsy enough, and you didn’t know if you could with another drink, you had your limits, and even if you didn’t know them, you wouldn’t do it in your first party, you turned to the water tap, filling a half of the cup, you looked around the room, if you got lucky you’ll find something to eat, opening the door of the fridge you find yourself with more drinks, and shoes? you closed the fridge, you saw there were pictures in them

One with a description under, ‘Our beloved leader’ the picture of the guy with tan skin short and blonde hair, and smiling like a young child, with marked dimples, the picture made you smile, you even felt like your heart was smiling, you looked at the rest of the pictures, you weren’t surprised when you saw Seokjin’s with the description of ‘Worldwide handsome’, there were others, one with an energetic smile, that it felt like growing, the description was ‘our hope’, in another a man with a tired smiled, messy hair and tired eyes ‘grumpy’ it said with a heart next to it. You stop in the last picture, a man with a boxy smile, and curled dark blonde locks covering his eyes a little, he looks pretty, it was this kind of deep, serene and innocent aura in the picture ‘I’m V’ that’s all it said, maybe he is the one who toked the rest.

“I never like that picture” a deep voice came from your back, you turn around fast, like if you were found doing something you’re not supposed to. Of course, the owner of that voice would be the same of the picture, he was wearing a headband keeping his hair up, revealing his face completely, wearing a big white t-shirt and black pants, he looked like he just rolled outta bed, and he still looked like pure beauty?

“hi” was all you manage to said, you gulped hard after looking at him

“Who are you?”

“I’m ____, Jin invited me, I.. I mean he invited my friend, Jimin, and I kinda came with him”

He nodded while he came close to you, you stopped breathing, what to do? but he only moved past you, reaching the shelf above the fridge, and taking a cookie box out.

“well, I’m Kim Taehyung, but please call me call me Tae” he offers you a cookie he took from the box, you accept it, feeling how both of your hands were just inches from each other made your stomach tingle

Wait, Kim Taehyung? THE Kim Taehyung? you’ve heard how his beauty looked out of the world, piercing glares, and deep smirks, but he didn’t show any of it, he looked like just another boy, well, a beautiful boy.

“Thank you” you looked at the cookie, then you look at him, “actually, I know who you are”

“really?”

you nodded “you’re pretty famous around here”

“Am I?” Tae raise one of his eyebrows while chewing a cookie in his mouth (how come this simple act already made you core hot?)

“Well at least around the girls” you smiled at him, he smiled back, know he knew exactly what you were talking about.

“know I know what you talking” he looked at the floor, then back at you “what year are you?”

“I’m in the first year”

“you don’t look like it”

“how come?

“for start, you don’t dress like those girls outside the house”

“well, I didn’t found like being stand up in heel all night were comfortable, and frozen my ass because a short skirt it’s not something I like”

Taehyung laugh, it was a beautiful deep laugh, it made you smile immediately “what about the fact you rather drink water than some random alcohol?”

You stay a few seconds looking at him, how long was he looking at you? wait he was looking at you from the start? can you be this lucky?

“well I already feel a little tipsy, and I don’t want to make a show that I’ll regret tomorrow morning”

“Smart move, you’re smart”

“well my brother gave the advice when I move here”

“So he is in this university to?”

“No, he graduated before, and now he lives in the capital”

Taehyung nodded “Well he’s smart, I remember in my first party I ended up almost kissing Hoseok” he looked around remembering this story

“really?”

“yes, in my defense, I felt like his lips were hypnotics” Taehyung was closer to you, your elbows touching each other, you both were so comfortable with it. “have you ever feel something like it?” he asked you, eyes now on yours.

you looked at his lips immediately, of course, you felt something like it, you were feeling it at the moment “yes, I know the feeling”

It was a moment of comfortable silence after you answer, looking at each other.

“Tell me, what other advice you got?” he put the cookie box back in the top shelf, then he rests his hand in the top of the fridge.

“Well nothing much, just, ‘don’t stress’ ‘be safe’ ‘don’t lose your phone’ and especially, ‘have fun´ “

“and what are you planning to have fun?

“You, maybe” it was the first thing that pops in your mind, you didn’t even notice you said it, but you did, so you just laugh to yourself.

Taehyung laugh with you, never meeting a girl who can be this bold and nervous at the same time “You’re bold, I’ll give you that”

Taehyung moves closer, his face just inches above yours.

“You’re cute too” he tugs some loose hair behind your ear, the feeling of his fingers slightly touching your hair made you shiver.

“Stop it” you move to get one step away from him, but he moves and started to follow you.

“What, is true, don’t you agree? Or are you going to say your one of those girls who don’t believe they’re cute?”

“Is not that, I don’t want to be cute, not to you at least"

"Is that so?” You reach the corner of the kitchen, Taehyung put one of his arms on your side, the other one in the other side, a devilish smirk was marked in his face, he has you blocked from moving, and yet knowing he doesn’t have you complete at his mercy “why?”

“I don’t want to be cute with you”

“What you want to be then?” One of his hand reaches your chin lifting your face a little so could look at him.

“Sensual” you said with a soft but determined tone.

“You sure are”

“Fun"

"I’ll bet my money on that"

You straight your body, that way you gain a few inches tall and move closer to Taehyung, "Intimidating” the tone in your voice low but firm, you’ll sure end to be one of Taehyung’s flings, but you didn’t just want to be a name on the paper, you wanted the hole page, a whole book if you can, you needed to prove yourself.

“If that’s what you want, you’ll have to work hard for it” he was leaning to kiss you, just when your lips were about to touch you turn your face to the side, he ended kissing your check, you could feel his smirk, you started to like teased him, and you were sure he liked to.

“I want to get to a more privet place” your face was back in front of him, you put your hand in his chest, you knew what you were doing, and Taehyung like it “that way I can kiss you non stop, and we can do anything without being bothered"

"My room then?”

“After you”

Taehyung took your hand from his chest and guide you out from the kitchen, you pass the crowd of people in the living room and follow Taehyung to the stair, he opens a wooden blue painted door, he took your hand and lead you inside.

was the room hot? or maybe your skin? you didn’t have time to think about it, Taehyung follow you a few steps, the sound of the door locking came, and after that you felt his presence right behind you, hands in each side of your waist, “are you sure about this?” he said softly in your heart, you turn around, his hands never took off from your waist, you framed his face with your hands.

“I am, 110%” he was indescribably beautiful, making you feel a little weak, “are you?” he was Kim Taehyung, a famous playboy, who could get any girl.

He leans down, his lips finding yours, he felt like sweet cream, lips moving in coordination, he breaks the kiss, you tried to follow him, but then you saw the strong dark look in eyes, “I am” he leans to kiss you again “110%”

You both kiss again, more intense and fired in it, his hands began to move through your body one on your neck, securing your face, the other running down your hips, then tightening your butt, you moaned and he took the chance to introduce his tongue in your mouth, you were getting heated, you needed him right in el moment, your hands reach the hem of his t-shirt, your fingers were now in his low stomach, feeling the heat of him, you took him off his t-shirt, his caramel skin made your mouth watering, you start licking his neck, while he took the time to take you off your clothes, you were in brassiere, and your jeans, you took your shoes off a while, you started to kiss him to his chest, sucking his skin, leaving pink mark, not deep to leave a mark, but enough to make him moaning, one of your hands caresses his hard member under the fabric of his pants

“Ff.. fuck, baby girl” he praises you between hard breathing, if he has used this pet name in others, you didn’t care, because it felt like yours for a mere second, so you toked as such.

You got on your knees pulling his pants down along with his boxers, revealing his member, hard and thick cock, you didn’t waste your time, you wanted to feel it inside of you as soon as possible, after a few squeezes, making him groan for your pleasure, you put him inside your mouth, you barely reach to his hips, damn this boy was big, you relax your throat to avoid any gagging, your mouth starting to move feeling his skin hardening, you started to move, sucking him slow and deeper, soon enough he grabs your hair making you go faster until he was fucking your throat.

“Fuck, you like teasing me no? baby girl”

You look up, his cock getting inside and out in your mouth, making your saliva leave in the corners of your mouth. “You look so good with my cock in your mouth" he got out, your mouth still open, the past felling of his cook in your mouth and his dirty talk have made you a mess, your core was feeling too hot and wet. he got out, your mouth still open, the past feeling of his cock in your mouth and his dirty talk have made you a mess, your core was feeling too hot and too wet.

“Tae please, I need you” you begged

“Do you now?” he help you get up, soon his hands were getting you off your jeans, one rested in your covered pussy, still he could already feel you wet “tell my baby girl, What do you want?” he started to move his hand a little, making you moan.

“you, t…Tae please, I, I want you to fuck me"

happy enough to see you begging, he lead you a few step to his bed, putting himself on top of you, separating your thighs from each other, he pulled off your panties, as soon as he saw a string from your pussy to your underwear, his eyes went dark, he groaned, and lean down to kiss you fervently.

"you’re so fucking wet” his voice sounded deeper, something animal in it “you got wet from just sucking me off no?” he started kissing your neck, his hands were squishing your breast when he reaches your other breast he started sucking your nipple.

“yes, I’m fucking wet for you Tae, please, please fuck me,” you begged,  rocking your hips so your core could feel Tae’s hard cock, making groan deep.

“don’t worry princess,” he started to go down “I’ll fuck you all night if you want” he reaches down facing your pussy, he lick long you between your fold taking some of your wetness, you moaned at the feeling of his hot tongue “but first, let me return you the favor”

His tongue moved inside you, arching your back, each time your moans became longer, he soon began to caress one of your breasts and squeeze your nipple between his fingers your hands grabbing his hair, while one leg cover one of his shoulders, “fuck, Tae, feel so good” you whimper, Tae move to start licking your clit, a small whimper came from your mouth.

soon he introduces two fingers of his free hand, you moaned deep, you were getting close, reaching your orgasm, as he realizes. you could feel the smirk on his lips when he feels your insides getting comfortable to the size of the fingers, he starts moving them, he stars sucking your clit, making you weep,

“Taehe…I close” words were hard for you to pronounce at the moment, he pulled both of his fingers to add a third.

It didn’t take long for you to reach your orgasm, coming in Taehyung face, thighs locking his head, he was still moving his fingers inside you, slowing the speed as you come back to your senses.

he reaches back to your face, coming back for a kiss, you feel your juices in his lips, tongue in the inside of his mouth “baby girl, you taste so good, don’t you agree?” you nodded biting your lower lip.

he grabbed the base of his member, making you feel the tip of him, he started kissing your jaw as you moaned, “now that your all wet and warm, you think you can take me?”

“Yes, I want to feel you Tae” you kiss his cheek, he opened one of the drawers the nightstand, pulling a condom, when he was ready he start feeling your wet entrance with the tip of his cock, he pulls inside the tip of it, then out.

“fuuck, Tae, don’t tease” you whimper, moving your hips down a little, he immediately stopped you, one of his hand locking your hips.

“Now, don’t get so bossy, let me enjoy you”

he buried his face in your neck, sucking your skin softly, soon he put all of him inside you, you wrapped him between your legs, you stayed like that just a few seconds until he started to move inside you, pulling himself inside and out of you.

Your eyes rolling back to your head, moaning in Taehyun hear, and feeling him groaning in your skin. “you feel so good ____, fucking good” hi said close in your ear.

“Ta, Tae, I’m close, fuck” your legs were hugging his hips, you throw your head back in the pillow “don’t stop, please, fuck me hard” you whimper as you grab his hair, and buried your nails in his lower back.

“yes, come for me princess, let me feel you came in my cock" this words and few more movement from him were enough for you to reach the second orgasm, he slowed down his speed, making you ride your orgasm in him, after that he move again, you were back a being a mess of word trying to tell how he feels, until he came roaring in your neck,  after a moment he pulls himself out, he got up slowly, taking the condom off and throwing into a bin, you didn’t know what to do, you had sex before, but never something like a one night stand, did you have to leave? could you stay? you reach down to grab your panties, there were wet indeed, you would be uncomfortable in the way back to your dorm.

“Aa, I don’t think you should wear that for now” Taehyung was in front of you, wearing his boxers, he opened a chest of drawers and pulled out some underpants “you can wear this for now”

“thanks” you grabbed the underwear he offers you

“what’s wrong?” he asks you, his eyebrows together

“why you ask?"

"you look distracted” if you did you couldn’t deny it, you wanted to have fun in college, have fun, but know it seems more complicated than you thought.

“I don’t know what to do now”

“What?” he almost giggles, where was the confident girl?

“I, I just don’t know if I should leave, or what?”

“Is that it?” you nodded “well you can stay here if you want, I wasn’t doing anything in the party, I was planning on going to sleep, and I might wake up needy in the morning” he laid next to you, smiling at his last sentence. “It will be nice to have you here” you laughed, stay for the night would be more comfortable, it’s already late walk alone, and you didn’t want to bother Jimin or Jungkook in case if they still here, and walking in wet underwear was annoying, and who knows, you could wake up needy too

“Okay, I’ll sleep here, if you don’t mind”

“not at all” he patted the pillow next to him, he patted the pillow next to him, you both rested in each side of the bed “hey ____, ?” he asked

“Mmm"

"I still find you cute”

you gave him a small smack in his arm “shut up and sleep Don Juan”

You rest your head in his pillow, you looked at Taehyung half naked, body cover under the sheets, you watch the movement of his chest rising up and down by his breathing, you wanted to rest there, feel the sound of his heartbeats, you turned to the other side, you needed to remind yourself, this wasn’t that kind of relationship.

You weren’t planning to fall for him, you didn’t want to, never less to be hurt by it, but that wasn’t something you planned.

⇥Next  // Roses & Thorns Index

→ Don Juan, definition:

1.  Legenda dissolute nobleman and seducer of women: he is the hero of many poems, plays, and operas // 2.  any man who seduces women or has one love affair after another; libertine; philanderer; rake

→ a/n: so is here, fresh out of the oven, thank you for waiting. writing smut scenes is quite challenging, but I happy on how it ended, let me know if you like it please

→ Tag list: @hodginss @krystle1990​

[bangtan-madi]

All Of Our Lifetimes — One: Daymare

Pairing — Taehyung x Reader

Tags — boyfriend!Taehyung, husband!Taehyung reincarnation au, lovers to strangers and to lovers again, established relationship, implied soulmate au

Genre — fluff, angst, crime (ish)

Word Count — 2.7k

Summary — Does love ever truly end, or does it simply take another form in a new life? The cycle is like clockwork: your lives end and you’re reborn again. You’ve lived it over and over. Each cycle, one of you loses your memories and is tragically unaware until the other finds and awakens their lover. After all these eons, all these lifetimes, is it possible to find each other again—even when neither of you awakens with your memories? 

Part — 1 / 10

Warnings — swearing

A/N — This is going up a few hours earlier than I said previously, but I don’t care! Tuesday is the worst day of the week so I need to put out something good lol. Enjoy!

Previous — Next

"Find me... Find me... F—"

"—Oh, fuck me!"

Milo's temper tantrum draws you from your intense daydream. Jolting in your seat, breath ragged and heartbeat racing, you see your roommate throw a copy of her resume across the living room in a burst of rage.

"Fuck you," she points sharply at the paper, "fuck this, and fuck me!"

As Milo throws herself onto the couch, draping her forearm dramatically across her eyes, she heaves a heavy sigh and groans loudly.

"How are we supposed to have this much experience for an entry-level job, [Y/n]? We were lied to. I feel wronged. Can I sue?"

You shake your head, trying to push the daymare away from your mind. It's not the first time this has happened, and it certainly won't be the last, but somehow that man's face keeps coming back to you. Day and night, he's all you see when you close your eyes, almost like a memory...

You feign a smile as you reply, "Who are you gonna sue, Mi? You're the one that insisted on doing your resume yourself, after our internships."

Milo gestures extravagantly with her free hand, making shapes in the air with her fingers. "Oh, I don't know. Maybe the professor who told us that we'd have enough to get a job overseas by the time we graduated? Maybe the damned school who never mentioned the fact that South Korean's are so damn particular? Maybe my mom who never forced me to continue speaking Korean or writing Hangul when I was a kid so that I had to basically re-learn every-fucking-thing?"

The highs and lows of her complaints cause a laugh to slip out as you turn your attention back to your own resume, a digital copy ready for edits on your laptop. "You're gonna sue your Mrs. Choi? Doesn't sound like a great idea. Besides, I like her too much. Her kimchi is to die for. And if you had already known Korean and Hangul, we may have never met!"

Your best friend nods once, accepting this fact as true. "Probably not. That semester in a foreign language really did solidify our nerdiness about South Korea." She jabs a finger in your direction. "But I have a one-up on you 'cause my grandparents were first-gen immigrants from Seoul. So ha!"

Raising your hands in mock defeat, you retort, "You win that one. I'm just an American."

"So sad." The brunette sits up with an excited expression, eyes wide as she crawls over to you on your side of the sofa. "How about my academic advisor, if you can even call the woman an advisor for rehashing my own questions back at me? She convinced me that I could get a job anywhere, with any degree. So what did I go with? Interior design! I can't find a single freakin' job in Seoul for that! Not that doesn't require, like, three years experience, a particular certification that I conveniently did not get, and a signed contract with the Evil Underlord Satan."

"I really don't think that's gonna work, but hey go ahead and try!"

Milo shoves your shoulder playfully, turning to the television to change it to the New Year's Rockin' Eve show that you'd been waiting to start. "You're the one that took ethics classes! I thought you'd be able to tell me if I had a case."

You scoff, "I took business ethics, not legal ethics! But I can agree with you partly. That woman was of no help. At all. Glad I wasn't stuck with her as an advisor since I was in the communications program."

"Yeah, I like to compare her to our house: a conventional ranch with no personality."

You burst into laughter, and Milo hops up from the sofa, an amused expression on her face. She tosses the remote in your direction. "Get the channel right. I can't find it. I wanna watch the ABC exclusive. Pretty sure we get that through YouTube TV."

You catch the remote with ease and turn to the menu. "You think I know how this thing works? I only use Netflix and Crunchy Roll."

"Just shut up and search, will ya?"

You roll your eyes and do as your roommate asks. "Why ABC? Isn't it easier to just stream it online?"

"Becauuuse BTS! They're gonna be performing in, like, ten minutes!"

"What's that again?" you tease.

"Okay, I am not dealing with you right now. Don't make me come over there and hit you with the champagne bottle."

The last two words catch your attention. You turn around, rest your arms on the back of the sofa, and give your best friend the biggest puppy-dog eyes you can manage. "Pour me a glass, Jagiya?"

Milo smirks at the Korean pet name and grabs the golden bottle from the refrigerator. "Get your ass over here so we can pop it and move on. I ain't waiting for midnight. We got shit to do before then, and I can't work on this job-seeking stuff for another damn second without some alcohol in me."

You squeal a tiny, "Yay!" before leaping over the back of the sofa and joining your roommate in the kitchen.

After the champagne is popped and poured, both of you return to your places on the sofa. You take a sip from your glass as Milo calls your favorite local pizza place to place an order.

"Pickup in fifteen, which is perfect! I don't wanna miss BTS," she giggles, pushing her champagne away. "No drinking and driving. I can wait until I get back."

"You're giving up champagne for this band?" you tut, swirling your glass to show off the drink. "You must really love these boys."

Milo narrows her dark eyes at you and tosses her hair over her shoulder. "You'll see."

Another sip and you turn back to your laptop, the noise of the New Year's Rockin' Eve in the background. "Mhm, sure."

You continue to work in relative quiet for the next five minutes until Milo breaks the peace with an elated screech, a sound that is more similar to that of an animal than a twenty-something woman.

"They're on!" She grabs your arm and shakes it vigorously. "Look at them!"

You stop your edits to your portfolio and turn to the television with a sigh. The crowd has started to go mad over the seven men currently trotting up the stairs and on to the stage. The singing has already begun, and you have to admit that their voices harmonized spectacularly together.

But there's one voice, in particular, that is so familiar to you. Despite being mixed in with the group, the lowest register has your eyes leaving your laptop screen and shifting to the television. You can't put your finger on it, but there's something so soft, so real, so warm about it.

The camera zeroes in on the seven men. All are dressed to the nines and look like they're having a blast while performing. So not only can they sing and dance—and, for some, rap—they're all stupid good looking, each in their own unique way.

As the first song comes to a close, and Milo sings the last verse at the top of her lungs, the camera pans to the man in the center. He delivers some of the last lines in a voice as soft and warm as the one you'd heard amongst the mass. Except, this time, he stands out.

But you recognize more than his voice; his appearance is familiar, too. Despite remaining in the background for most of the first song's performance, there's something about the man with the wavy black hair and similarly colored trench coat that calls to you. On an ordinary day, on any other day, you would wave it off as a simple attraction.

But this—this is different. You can't put your finger on how or why, but you know that you've met this person before.

Lightning strikes. You know where you've seen this face before. He's been in your dreams and nightmares, your daymares and daytime imagination. He's been all over your mind, consuming it for the past few months. You've always had this dream, ever since you were a child, but lately, those nightmares have been getting more frequent. This man might be a slightly younger version than the one that plagues your dreams, but it's the same person. You're sure of it. Every time you close your eyes, his face is the one you see.

Right before you both die.

The next song begins, and the dark-haired stranger is back at the front. For the remainder of their eight-minute time slot, your eyes are glued to the screen, unable to comprehend where this person came from. You have distinct memories of your mother consoling a three-year-old you after having these same night terrors. Surely, you could not have seen this person back then. It's unlikely you saw him at all, and certainly not as he is at the turn of the decade.

"Who's that?"

Milo follows your gesture, seeing the raven-haired man taking center stage once again. "That's Kim Taehyung! Pretty, isn't he?" She chuckles at your expression. "You have a bias already, damn that's impressive. I mean, I'm more of a Hoseok girl myself but..."

Your roommate's chatter fades away as your attention is once again drawn to the screen. The performance ends, and the show shifts to a different artist, all part of the New Year's Rockin' Eve circus.

"Welp, that was worth the wait, but  I'm gonna go pick up that pizza," Milo cheers, hopping to her feet. "Don't drink all the champagne before I get back!" 

You shake your head and wave to the brunette as she slips out the door. Turning back to your laptop, you open a new search bar and put in two words: Kim Taehyung.

Millions of results pop up, everything from Wikipedia articles to Koreaboo gossip posts and everything in between. The entire time Milo is gone, you spend online researching BTS' V. By the end of the half-hour, you've learned quite a bit about him—taking particular note that his birthday is just a few days after yours—and have stalked his social media.

A little farther down on the results, you see an ad for Big Hit Entertainment. The ad says that the company is looking for bi-lingual speakers, preferably English and Korean, to hire as a production assistant. Out of curiosity, you click on the link and are taken to Big Hit's site.

Milo returns with fanfare, holding the pizza in front of her like Simba the lion. "It's the cirrrcle of life!" she sings. "They were definitely talking about pizza when they wrote that line."

As she plops the box onto the kitchen counter, you make a sound of vague agreement. Milo asks you how many pieces you want, but you hardly hear her, eyes skimming the job posting over and over.

Is this a possibility? Is this something you're actually considering? Besides the fact that you just saw the add a few minutes ago, your reasons for applying are vague at best. Are you weighing the real options, or are you leaning into this particular job because it might lead you to answers? Or maybe give you an opportunity to meet this Kim Taehyung, maybe even ask him questions?

"Hello? Earth to [Y/n]!" Milo reaches over the back of the sofa to wave a hand in front of your face. Snapping you out of your stupor, your best friend laughs. "Damn, what are you reading? You're really out—wait...is that Big Hit? You found a job posting? What!"

Milo grabs your laptop and pulls it from your grasp. "Mi—"

She brings it over the back of the couch, placing it on the counter beside the pizza. Her brown eyes are wide and curious as she scrolls through the information. "Production assistant for Big Hit, in Seoul, for a bi-lingual speaker with no prior experience? Dude. This is the perfect job! Like, seriously, where did you find this?"

"On Google," you sigh, knowing that you're not going to get the laptop back until Milo relinquishes her control. You settle in on the stool beside her. "I was looking...for postings while you were gone. I stumbled across it."

Milo cocks an eyebrow and shows you your search history, terms which mostly consist of "BTS," "BTS V," and "Kim Taehyung."

"Mhm, suuure, we'll go with job postings."

You take the device from her with a playful scowl. "My point remains. This is exactly what I've been looking for. It says here that the job would be a lot of translation work, both in person and on documents. I'd also assist in the studio while recording or producing. And various other tasks, but I think it'd put my communications major to good use. It's a step in the right direction."

"You sure you just don't wanna see Taehyung-ssi?" she giggles.

A rising feeling of defensiveness comes over you as you close your laptop, moving to the sofa to retrieve your glass of champagne. "I just heard BTS for the first time tonight, Milo. I'm not about to pick my first post-college job and move half-way around the world for a boy I don't even know, let alone a K-pop boy."

"A cute K-pop boy, though." 

You return to her side, raising both eyebrows in an expression that says, "Really?"

Milo shrugs, raising her hands in mock surrender. "Okay, okay, I'll let it go. Just an odd choice for you."

"Well, it's like we were saying earlier." You grab a piece of pizza from the box and shove the end into your mouth. "What'd we got t'lose?"

Milo makes a "close your mouth" gesture with her hand, grimacing at the sight. "Points were made. Fine, but maybe sleep on it? And this is me telling you to not be impulsive," she laughs towards the end. "But what the hell. If you go for it, I might have to find a job in Seoul sooner than I thought."

"I'm sure there are thousands of applicants," you grimace, the reality of the situation settling in. 

Milo grabs a slice for herself and wraps an arm around your shoulders. "And you're worth each and every one of 'em." After pressing a loud kiss to your temple, she slips from the bench and plops back down on the sofa. "C'mon! We got some balls to drop and resumes to edit."

Later that evening, or earlier the next morning, you're left cleaning up as Milo reclines on the sofa in a tipsy slumber. After the New Year rolls in, along with a brand new decade, you're left alone with your thoughts. 

Thoughts and several disposable dishes.

As you tidy up, you contemplate the options in front of you. Sure, you'd sent out several resumes to plenty of companies already. Some of which you'd heard absolutely nothing from, while others have let you know they'll get back to you about a possible interview. So far, nothing has been terribly promising.

So what' the harm in applying for the Big Hit job in Seoul?

The other half of your motivation slips into your sleepy mind. The person you've seen since childhood, could he really be Taehyung? Could you finally be so close to the answers? Why only one dream? Why him? Why so much blood and death?

Does he dream of you, too?

The laptop remains on the kitchen counter, and your fingers itch to open it up and send off your completed resume. This could lead to more than just a new job and a fresh start; this could lead to the answers you've been seeking ever since you were three years old.

A tiny voice inside you says, "Do it."

And, against your better judgment, you listen. 

[manggojooz]

Foolish Love, Fake Love (Part 3)

pairing: idol!Jungkook x bodyguard!reader

word count: ~1,800

genre: idol!au; angst; romance; drama; enemies to lovers sort of thing

warnings: none

previous part: Prologue | Part 1 | Part 2

summary: If all you can give me is a fake love, then I will be the fool to pretend that it is all true.

comments: sorry if the chapter is a bit short haha but im trying to get myself back into writing in baby steps =) pls comment or reblog if you liked this <3 

How do you explain love? Is it a feeling? Is it an agreement? Is it an experience? 

---

The day felt like months.  

You were using Yuri’s phone to surf the net, her nose poking into the side of your chin as she leaned against your shoulder, trying to read the tiny words on her phone too.  

“When are you getting your phone back?”, Yuri asked soullessly.  

“Whenever the reporters stop calling, I hope...”, you answered. As though on cue, Sejoon bursts into the waiting room, causing Yuri to knock her forehead into your cheekbone when she abruptly shot up straight.  

Sejoon dragged his feet along as he approached your side and held out a handphone for you. “Use this phone in the meantime, I've saved a few contacts in it for you. And Director Lee wants to see you for a while”, he said sheepishly.  

You handed Yuri’s phone back to her and Sejoon caught a glimpse of the article you had been reading.  

---

As you made your way to the higher floors of the BH building, the lift ride was silent and awkward. Half a day has since passed after Rapid released the exclusive article confirming that Jungkook was dating you. Sejoon suddenly blurted, “I suggest you don’t read any of the articles...”  

You looked at him silently.  

“You know the saying right... a pen is mightier than a sword... in this case, a keyboard is definitely mightier than a gun”, his tone was serious yet soothing at the same time.  

“I know... I won’t take the articles or the comments too seriously”, you said almost nonchalantly.  

He shook his head slightly, “it’s easier said than done, Y/N. It’s better if you just don’t read them at all”, he stared ahead as he nagged gently at you.  

Somehow you felt a tinge of warmth from the situation, which softened the otherwise difficult and draining day.  

---

“Since it doesn’t make sense for you to be a bodyguard anymore, we just said you are a staff member. But let’s be clear, you are not qualified to do any other job so your job will still be the same. In fact, now you have more to guard...”, Director Lee was rambling on more than she usually would.

You only nodded in response. For some reason, since the earlier part of the day you have felt like you no longer own a voice. It is as if you had given your tongue to the sea witch but in return you got a fake prince.  

“We have put all the policies in place to ensure employee confidentiality on this situation. But since you are a lead character in all of this, we believe it calls for a little more documentation...”, she fumbled around, tossing files around her desk. It was the first time her room seemed a little messier than it usually would be.  

Her assistant who had been standing next to her this whole time, meekly pointed towards a black thin folder resting under her elbow. “Alright, I got it”, she snapped. 

She opens the folder and tosses a document in front of you. “Sign it”, she instructs, and her assistant almost immediately holds out a pen to you.  

You stare at them with a puzzled expression and Sejoon, who had been standing in the far corner of the room, peers over in concern.  

“I’ll read through it first...”, you were hardly even batting an eyelash at the whole situation now. After all the entire day has been incredulous on top of more incredulity. 

Director Lee scoffs and was about to say something when Sejoon swoops in, grabs the document as well as your arm, hurrying to pacify the executive, “I will explain it all to her quickly and will get it signed by the end of today, Director Lee.”  

---

“Clause 4.3, basically it’s just saying that this arrangement will be for an initial three months from today, and the management can decide whether to shorten or lengthen this term. Clause 4.4 says that you shall not speak about this arrangement with anyone outside the company...”, Sejoon was rattling all the terms written in the contract.  

“... Clause 5.2...”, he paused and cleared his throat while scratching his forehead, looking rather uneasy, “... Clause 5.2 says that you cannot fall in love with Jungkook... ummm... I can’t read the rest of it to you, it’s too cringe for me... anyway point is that you should just stay professional ok?”, Sejoon gave you those little sheepish glances he was always so good at.  

“What if I break any of these terms?”, you asked outrightly with folded arms, sitting across from Sejoon in the tiny pantry reserved for staff members.  

“Ummm... let’s see”, he flips to one of the pages at the back, “here... you gotta return all the advance payment made to your company and its employees... meaning the payments made to Ssam Chun and Yuri too... and there’s a penalty sum”, Sejoon pauses again. “But Y/N, I hope you know this isn’t what should be of concern right? If you get into the bad books of the management, it’s not going to be just paying back all these monies.”  

Sejoon was right, the power and influence that a relatively large company like BH would have, cannot be summarised in just monetary terms.  

“I’ll think about it...”, it all made you more reluctant to sign off on that stupid contract.

“Y/N, there isn’t much of an option here...”, Sejoon said but he still handed the agreement to you, knowing you probably needed some time to come to terms with it.  

---

You clenched the contract tightly in one hand and walked down the long corridor. This feeling was indescribable, you were confused, you were alone, you were afraid  – it just felt so wrong and your entire body felt the weight of it. 

You were trudging along towards the lift lobby when you think you heard Jungkook’s voice coming from a room further down. You couldn’t hear what he was saying but as you approached the room you heard a woman’s voice too.  

“No Jungkook, it’s ok... I have no right to meddle in your private life like that”, she said coyly and you recognise that it is Yeonjoo’s voice. She had a distinct tonality when she spoke, and people often praised her for it – it was somehow cute and cool at the same time but not unnatural sounding.

“What do you mean, Noona?”, Jungkook sounded taken aback.  

“I mean... if you are really dating her, I should be.. no, I am happy for you... I really shouldn’t have come down here today... but I just wanted to say I'm sorry for what happened the other night and I hope nothing has changed between us...”, her voice was getting softer and you had to strain your ears to hear what she was saying.  

You rolled your eyes, “she’s good”, you thought to yourself. This was a classic example of managing her fish farm and Jungkook was one dumb fish trapped inside. It's not that he can’t leave, he willingly does not leave, and she sure seemed bent on making sure it stays this way.  

“No, Noona... you have no idea how grateful I am that you came down. They took my phone away since this morning and I've been stuck here wondering how I am going to explain all this to you... She’s really our new bodyguard, I mean... staff member... I didn’t even know her name before today! So how can it be possible that I am dating her?”, Jungkook was exasperated.  

To think about it, half the people you have guarded before probably do not remember your name. Yet now he remembers you, even though it is for one of the worst reasons ever.  

Just when Yeonjoo was going on about Jungkook not having to explain himself to her, someone taps your shoulder, giving you quite the shock and you lunged backwards almost hitting him in the process.  

“Oh it’s you! You gave me a shock!”, Kijin exclaimed.  

“Look who’s talking”, you mumbled snidely, glaring at the man who landed you in this situation in the first place.  

“Oppa? Is someone outside?”, Yeonjoo called out.  

Kijin gestured for you to enter the room, as though saying ‘would you rather go in yourself or have me drag you inside?’

The moment you entered, Jungkook visibly tensed up.  

“Were you eavesdropping on us?”, his frown was so deep that you started getting a little nervous.  

“I was just walking past, and I heard your voice so I wanted to see if it’s a good time to talk because there’s something-”, you were making an attempt to explain yourself.  

“There’s nothing to talk about between us...”, he cut you off promptly and continued frowning, his tone was very hostile.  

“Jungkook, there’s no need to talk to her like that...”, Yeonjoo gently chided him, “she probably isn’t happy about landing in this situation either, just like how you are feeling.”  

Jungkook lets out a light chuckle, “Apparently her handphone wallpaper is a photo of me... so I really don’t think she’s feeling what I’m feeling right now”, he said rather dejectedly. This somehow piqued Yeonjoo’s attention.  

“So you are a fan?”, her eyes were already pretty huge but it got even larger, “wow... and will you still be following Jungkook around for his schedule after all the... news?”  

“Seems like it... it’s still my job to do it...”, you answered earnestly, regretting coming towards the room at all.  

“You must really love your job”, Jungkook suddenly turned sarcastic and you felt a twitch in your chest.  

“I do...”, you tried to keep up that professional posture but was sure that your insides were tangling up slowly.  

“Even if your job is making a fool of you like this?”, this was the longest Jungkook had ever looked at you in your eyes.  

“I’d rather be a fool”, you answered.  

“As opposed to a ---?”, he asked, still with the same annoyance he had when you had entered the room.

“As opposed to a liar...”, you thought to yourself.

You decided to face the situation and his concerns head on. "Yes, I like you as a fan, but it won’t become anything else just because of this situation.”, you said as you put down the contract on the desk before them, flipping to Clause 5.2.  

“Love is not an arrangement, and it can never come from a contract. This...”, you tapped the agreement slightly with your fingertip, “this is not love. And I'm not foolish enough to believe it is. So, you really need not be worried about it either. If nothing else, just know that... as a fan, I want you to be happy at the end of the day.”  

“And I will be... if you can keep that promise...”, Jungkook replied after glancing at the page laid opened before his eyes. To say his words didn’t hurt you would be a lie, but there was also a sense of relief that at least he killed any hopes before they could be groomed. 

Without answering him, you picked up a random pen from the notepad holder in the middle of the table and signed your name at the end of the document. 

---  

Love is a promise.  

And you promised, never to love him.  

[supercorpbookmarks]

Completed fics? Or one shots? Ur amazing

A Foolish Wit - seabiscuit

Lena Luthor needs a husband, Clark Danvers needs an easy resolution to his cash flow problem. Unfortunately, the best laid plans often go awry. Or, Lena Luthor is actually rich, but Clark Danvers isn’t actually Clark Danvers. It’s complicated.

sojourn - concreteskies

When Lena has to move to London for a month, she asks Kara to come along and join her. As friends of course. (Friends that smile at each other a lot. Friends that think about each other’s lips a lot. That kind of friends.) It goes about as well as you’d imagine.

you are the fire (and i’m gasoline) - youmeandem

Lena forgets all about the stars and how pretty they are at the sight of Kara laughing, because even in the bad torch lighting, Kara is prettier than all the stars combined. Something twists in Lena’s stomach. She wants to lean forward and press her lips against Kara’s, and she almost does, but then she realizes what she’s doing and she stops herself just in time before Kara notices anything. or: kara and lena meet as teenagers au

A fiancée for Christmas - kellsbells

Alex is, as always, being hounded by Eliza about Kara’s life. In particular, her personal life. Alex blurts out a lie on a whim, pretending that Kara is engaged, and begs Kara to go along with the lie. Kara mentions the situation to her very platonic friend Lena Luthor, who offers to step in. Hijinks ensue

Monster Under The Bed - BiJane

Lillian Luthor wants everyone to fear Supergirl. That includes her daughter.

The Fifth Wall - Black_Tea_and_Bones

Kara goes to bed with Mon-El, and wakes up with Lena Luthor. But it isn’t Kara’s bed, and they’re not in Lena’s apartment, and that is definitely not their baby… Right?

Kara is Terrible at Keeping Secrets - Rhino (RhinoMouse)

Twenty-eight ways Lena Luther could find out that Kara is an alien. Surprisingly that doesn’t necessarily mean she finds out she’s Supergirl. Because Kara is really terrible at keeping secrets.

Destruction (sometimes means rebirth) - BloodInTheFields

There’s not much that she can do. The heat, she doesn’t feel. She walks through the flames and uses her x-ray vision to spot any survivor, but there’s nothing. Only devastation. or, in which Kara loses Lena, but does she really?

Giant - coeurastronaute

Kara and Lena meet in high school, but then life. (not a high school AU). Lena leaves and they meet up again, this time as Supergirl and Lena Luthor.

no one but you (got me feeling this way) - AgentJoanneMills

It’s not like Kara deliberately sets out to make her life harder than it should be. It’s not her fault that she’s excitable, okay, and she forgets things sometimes and maybe those things should not be forgotten under any circumstances. Maybe those things include, well, housing forms, which as it turns out are super important to submit on time if she wants to not be homeless in her sophomore year of college. Her sister’s going to give her so much crap about this (Alternatively: in which Kara forgot to fill out the housing form and was left with no choice but to live in the most exclusive apartment on campus.)

If you don’t love me, pretend (just for a few more hours)… - Khrat9

Kara Danvers had been a recent development she never saw coming. They weren’t friends. Lena didn’t like to blur the lines; she made a point to be professional with everyone in her workspace and especially reporters, however cute they may be. Au : where Kara and Lena aren’t friends. One night stands… but like several nights per month, sometimes more.

Not Afraid to Fall - prettyaveragewhiteshark

Lena Luthor has a strictly sexual relationship with Supergirl, but when her feelings for amateur journalist Kara Danvers begin to grow, everything gets a lot more complicated. See inside for smut, feelings, rogue DEO agents, feelings, explosions, angst, and more feelings!

Unavoidable Dreams - C_AND_B

“Kara had sex dreams. About Lena. Kara Danvers had extremely vivid sex dreams about Lena Luthor and she couldn’t stop thinking about it. It comes in snippets, and flashes, and visions and then it slams into her all at once, so fast she can barely breathe through the palpitations in her chest. Then it lingers. It’s there when she blinks, and when she sleeps, and every time she turns and finds Lena by her side (which seems to be increasing with every passing day).” Or, Kara has sex dreams and then just awkwardly fumbles through interactions with Lena.

Swipe Right for a Super - eluigih

Lena Luthor matches with Supergirl on tinder and she’s convinced that she’s being catfished.

Whispers - gabs88

“Lena is pale, her face washed out. Her knuckles are white where they grip her glass. Lillian is standing in the doorway as if this is any normal meeting, her face humourless. A mask. It’s what Kara noticed most, trapped with Mon’El in that place. Lillian is a difficult person to get any kind of read on. In some ways, so is Lena. But she’s warm where her mother is not. Smiles softly, grins like seeing Kara is the highlight of her day. She throws expressions around with ease. Ones that make Kara’s heart speed up, make her want to bite her own lip in return. Or bite Lena’s for her. But have they been real? That’s an entirely different question.”

Secretaries Know Best - Rhino (RhinoMouse)

Jess has been Ms.Luthor’s assistant long enough to know that she has terrible taste in women. So when her boss finally starts crushing on newbie reporter and loyal beam of sunshine Kara Danvers, Jess rejoices. But there are vultures hovering, unworthy boys and a pesky caped wonder and Jess will damned before she lets them ruin things.

but i’m weak (and what’s wrong with that?) - exprsslyfrbidden

Lillian threatens to hurt Supergirl if Lena continues their friendship. Naturally, this means they should become friends with benefits.

a necessary ingredient - geoclaire

Kara and Lena go out for drinks after work, and end up talking about how the general public think about Supergirl. And how Lena does. Things flow from there. But how exactly are an alien and the sister of the country’s most famous xenophobe supposed to build a relationship?

One Shots

make my wish come true - falsealarm

“Kara said she could come over whenever she was free, had literally texted Lena saying she would welcome the company so she knows she isn’t going to intrude but Lena’s three hours early and she doesn’t know if that welcome extends this far ahead.” AKA Lena shows up early to a friend get-together at Kara’s and things get festive (and flirty) real quick.

we are what we pretend to be - C_AND_B

After the unrestricted office access, and the flowers, and the surprise visits to Catco, everyone just kinda starts to assume Kara and Lena are dating, and maybe they should let them. (AKA, Lena and Kara really just date whilst pretending they’re fake dating).

I Just Want to Love You in My Own Language - lynnearlington

“In the center of it all, on her desk, is a gorgeous glass vase full of over two dozen lavender roses. “Pretty,” she murmurs as she comes around to look at them. In the middle of the light purple flowers is a small card, thank you written in elegant script over the surface. There’s no name, but there doesn’t need to be.” [A love story, told with flowers]

wonderful electric (cover me in you) - falsealarm

Lena makes Kara feel like she’s vibrating, like her nerve endings are alight with electricity and it’s intoxicating to say the least. (Tentatively, 4 interruptions + 1 free night.)

in the sun - isawet

Lena needs a date and Kara needs a job. (fake dating supercorp)

You to Me, Me to You - wtfoctagon

When Kara sees a vase of flowers on Lena’s desk, she doesn’t get jealous per se– it’s just that she thinks that Lena deserves so much better than a measly, cliche bunch of roses.

you can hear it in the silence (you’re in love) - C_AND_B

“Kara who always makes her feel trusted, and believed in, and safe. Kara who makes her glance up at a shooting star and make a wish. Kara whose frame is sturdy but soft. Kara whose slight touch makes a shiver run down her spine. Kara who she’s fairly sure she’ll be irrevocably in love with before she can figure out a way to stop it.– She might already be too late.” (the evolution of Kara and Lena’s relationship alongside the lyrics of ‘you are in love’)

Our Circle Meets - uhpockuhlipz

Meeting one’s soulmate is supposed to be monumental. It is supposed to be the most important event of one’s life and from everything Lena’s seen, that moment is almost sacred. So it’s a bit baffling when Lena finds hers and the whole world seems to stop spinning in that moment… but Kara Danvers doesn’t seem to notice it at all. OR the quintessential red string of fate AU (though it’s woven into canon 'verse).

cops, robbers & incredibly bad decisions - C_AND_B

Kara’s been trying to catch a masked criminal for months, and Lena, well Lena is just trying to steal from the rich and give to the poor (or something along those lines).

The Six Times Lena Tries to Tell Kara She’s Pregnant and the One Time Kara Takes the Hint - JediFighterPilot2727

Can you write a one shot where Lena finds out she is pregnant and then gives little hints to Kara and then because Kara is obvious Lena has to yell it out to her. Extra points for over the moon Kara and smut!!!

pain - cautiouslyoptimistic

lena’s never felt her soulmate’s pain and she’s sure that it’s because her soulmate doesn’t exist at all or, it takes twenty-one years and thousands of light years for lena to find kara

Luthor Escort Services - uhpockuhlipz

Kara needs a last minute date to her sister’s wedding. Luthor’s Escort Services is there to help, but Lena is nothing like what Kara was expecting or a fake dating AU that is just… ridiculous.

when i think about you (well, you know the rest) - Jazzfordshire

“The world comes to a grinding halt for a moment when she sees something bad. Something horrific. Possibly the worst thing that’s ever happened in human or Kryptonian history. A solid little purple arrow, coloured in, next to Lena’s name.” OR - Wherein Lena makes a realization during a private moment, and Snapchat almost ruins Kara’s life.

Lena Luthor’s Apartment - 13lxclkr

Lena Luthor actually has an apartment and sometimes, a certain blonde likes to crash on her couch.

Comfort and Warmth - spacemanearthgirl

Kara’s heart is pounding in her chest, this certainly isn’t the way she wanted Alex to find out about her small (giant) crush on Lena.

your sunday best (looks best on my floor) - Jazzfordshire

“Siri, is it possible to die from sexual frustration?”   “I’m sorry, I don’t understand.”   Lena sighs. “Of course you don’t. Fine. Siri, make a note – give incentives to the R&D team for finishing the red sun lamp. As quickly as possible.”

exception - cautiouslyoptimistic

kara keeps doing strange things, and lena doesn’t know what to make of it or, kara is in love and it takes lena an absurdly long time to notice

Hey, Are You Lena Luthor? - gveret

Those first words a soulmate is destined to say to you are supposed to be magical, indescribable, life changing. But for Lena Luthor, they’re just an everyday occurrence. (In which Lena has the most infuriatingly mundane soul mark.)

out of the darkness (and into the sun) - intolauren

“I hit you with my car and was the only one to visit you in the hospital, this is sort of awkward, are you okay?”

[aprilmillerphd-archive]

This is a Bias List. Because I am Biased, and also a Follow Forever. For reasons. Mostly that April hit a milestone and that’s friggin’ amazing in my book.

So I have to start with @darcywho who has been my main and exclusive Darcy since... well actually since I took April from the private rpc into the independent rpc something like four or five years ago. I know Mariah IRL (and will soon be living within easy driving distance of her)-- and basically. Mariah is bombtastic. She’s hella smart and funny, and when I’m having a crappy day (or given how the beginning of this year went, a crappy year) -- she texts me incessantly to talk about what Darcy is doing, and what April and Darcy should be doing, and I have so much character history, and Important Events, and developmental experiences just from talking and writing with Mariah, that I honestly don’t think April would be the character she is, without having had Darcy’s mitigating influence. We’ve just done so much that we’ve reached a point in our friendship and writing relationship where I literally feel as if Mariah could write April, and do her justice and vice versa. If y’all don’t follow her already, you should get on that because seriously, she is the absolute best take on Darcy Lewis that I have ever encountered in the Marvel RPC, and I know the PC rp com is going to jump down my throat for ‘making comparisons’-- but again. THis boo is my main and exclusive Darcy Lewis, also I do whut I want. @scarsearned MANGOOOOO. Okay so funfact; this brat used to have a diff url and we chat on dis/cord and it STILL took me like three days to realize on tumblr they were the same person. I FOLLOW YOU ON FOUR BLOGS MANGO. THis is what you signed up for all those years ago. I’m sorry. SO TO THE POINT! Mango has a bevy of blogs she runs, I met her when she wrote almost exclusively on Rummers here, and what I say ‘met her’ I mean I started sending her asks talking about Brock Rumlow, reread her rules and realized she had a password, at which point we were already talking over Skype, and then I sent in her password and she teased me relentlessly for it. (I deserved it, I’m a total goob)-- Mango is right up there with Mariah in terms of IMPORTANT character development shit. Mango writes a CANON DIVERGENT Brock Rumlow, and has put so much time into developing him, I think Marvel should give her a fuckin’ job. She’s also like... insanely smart. I say this as someone who likes to play at being really intelligent. Mango talks and I feel like I’m back in grade school and I want to hide myself away in shame. So obviously it’s no wonder we ended up shipping. (Actually no, I still have literally no idea how or why THAT happened tbqh I’m a fuckin’ potato) -- but Mango and Mariah go hand in hand because I introduced them and now their Brock and Darcy are inextricably linked forevermore as siblings and it’s fuckin’ A Plus. @russkiyuragan YET ANOTHER PERSON I MET BECAUSE OF MANGO. But also hella quality child of canon OC. Like, legit we started talking because Mango dragged us into a group rp and it turned into us mutuall talking about character development and now basically Seamus is one of April’s smols. Even though he really ISN’T one of hers. She’s basically claimed him as a child who needs mothering and dammit she is going to give him all the mothering ever. Even if he doesn’t need or want it. AND BASICALLY THEY ARE A FUCKING SWEETHEART WHO NEEDS ALL THE FUCKING LOVE because they’re really insanely smart and super sweet and friendly and I heart them. @phxtxn PHIL!!! OKAY SO I MET PHIL IN A CLOSED RPC FOR-FUCKING-EVER AGO. And immediately Genis and April butted heads. (He destroyed like half her office, ruined a couple PRICELESS books and then offered to buy her lunch in apology. Suffice to say April was less than impressed) -- except over the years, they’ve gotten really close. Occasionally Phil and I delve into the divergent canon where April and Genis actually end up romantically involved but it always ends in heartache because April is bad at being happy and Genis is bad at... well.. mitigating April’s more extreme bouts of self-loathing. BUT they are exceptional friends and Phil has a fantastic knack for finding the fun and funny in every situation and driving April absolutely UP A WALL. Phil’s also another rp partner I dragged into the collective with Mariah, because I like it when my writing partners all write together because I’m a spoiled princess. Phil’s a total sweetheart though and his Genis Vell is motherfucking spot on. He’s spent a lot of time with the character and it shows, but he also understands pragmatic, human interactions from a writing sense so it’s always a joy when we write together or chat. @askprofessorx NAAAAYYAA -- Naya’s another of those rpers I sort of. Grew on. Like a fungus. I wooed her with poetry first and then introduced her Charl to April and what I consider to be one of my more beautifully painful plot ideas. It involved time travel and the overhanging possibility of April dying. And because April was from the modern era trying desperately to get back, it was that much more painful when she started developing connections. And basically Naya and I plotted everything out over IMs and asks and now we have the most ridiculous tiny person ship in the history of ridiculous ships and Naya’s Charles is like... the cornerstone of my favorite Charles’s. She’s got this beautiful grasp of our fave telepath’s charming flirtatiousness and paired with the very Serious way he views morality and the world, which combined with April’s general cynicism (and it should be noted, our mutant verse involves April being a touch-telepath who can’t actually touch people without destroying their brains because control? what is that)-- and you have an April experiencing her worst fear. Which is not being in-control of herself. It’s beautiful and Naya is beautiful bean. @iremembereveryonethatleaves AHAHAHA Lilo was the first  ‘child’ April ever like. Accidentally adopted. And it happened entirely because of my age of aquarius verse, wherein instead of April seeking out Charles Xavier, she looked for Magneto instead. She found him. And his kid. And I literally have no idea WHY OR HOW April ended up becoming surrogate mom to Lilo since there’s no rational reason for Magneto getting along with April who is a cynical, borderline nihilist with Serious Rage Issues. But-- April and Lilo. Mommy and daughter and just. LITERALLY ALL MY HEART AND LOVE FOR THIS PERSON WHO MADE WRITING MUTANT APRIL FUN AND NOT PAINFUL. Until you (you asshole) made it painful. I still go through our tags to read all th angst, and I didn’t do it half so well as you and Tori did so.. @actually-i-prefer-magneto frick me so apparently I did my mutant crew in a triumvirate.  The flipside of the age of aquarius verse, where April found Magneto instead and became part of his Brotherhood. Because who wouldn’t have a need for a hyperpolyglot, with genius level intelligence and touch-telepathy? Magneto knew what he was getting out of the bargain, I just don’t think he expected April Miller. TBQH. Nobody ever expects her which is great, and this basically started as an incredibly painful, probably tragic plot that I had (sort of) intended to result in April’s death and it didn’t go that route. Like. At all. probably because these two babes understand that good angst is hard to come by and with the persistent low-hanging threat of April’s head getting blown off, or even worse, her returning to her own time, it meant that every interaction was always charged with a lowkey kind of desperation and tension.  Even when Erik and April got that ‘happy’ ending. It took an actual fucking lifetime to get there. And the best thing about Kristy is that she’s smart as fuck, I seem to surround myself with people who make writing look easy, and whose ability to thread together a long arching plot is so absolutely bafflingly amazing I am often struck stupid. @captain-outoftime AaBbbbYyyyYyy. So like- I met Abby through Mariah. Abby is the Steeb to Mariah’s Darcy. They’re hitched. It’s great. April helped Steve propose to Darcy even though April seems to have a PERPETUAL ISSUE with Steve Rogers that defies all explanation. IDK-- it’s probably something to do with the fact that April is a giant pain the ass and a tiny, fight-y blonde? WTF knows. Steve tolerates April. Abby tolerates me. Abby is a goddess. Beautiful, smart, funny as fuck, and like. Constantly busy. How she manages to balance RL shit with rp is beyond the scope of my ability to grasp yo but she’s the bomb-diggity. @americanasitgets MOTHERFUCKIN’ GABBY! My DC babe. Light of my liiife, fire in my loins, (not really but I was on a roll yo) -- I also met Gabby because of Mariah. And Gabby’s Clark. Gabby’s Clark is made of fucking sunshine okay, and the best part is, is that we’ve had like a sustained rp universe where April harasses Clark and doesnt know he’s superman, WHILE TASH-TRALKING SUPERMAN TO CLARK’S FACE. It’s comedy gold. Poor April. But I love Gabby, because she’s smart as shit and fuckin’ hysterical, and will literally snowball crack scenarios over IM into the wee hours of the morning. Even better, I’ve found someone whose as bad at keeping track of threads as me. (I say, as I eyeball our New Krypton thread that’s been in my drafts folder for like. Six months. Oops). @talonscourt D I KNOW THROUGH MY TIM BLOG-- but who I first met on April and then promptly FORGOT ABOUT because I’m a total dipshit. D writes Jason Todd, April surrogate son. This is a recent development. Tim loves Jason, April loves Jason. D is amazing as Jason. D is like... my platonic lover from Narnia. They’re smart as hell, and incredibly sweet even when I’m shit at keeping in contact because my real life is a hot-fuckin-mess and I’m always sick and on the verge of nuclear collapse. I would be TOTALLY LOST WITHOUT YOU. @galaeus Echo. As written by the ever talented Amy who I’ve known since April’s very first incarnation. Which... is a long ass time, Amy’s seen April through several character developments and rewrites, and has legit known April as a character since like. Legit. Post Tim. When April was a baby.  Echo is April’s other southern, raised by a pageant queen biffle. They shoot the shit together, Echo is also legit the only person in existence whose allowed to give April nicknames, or turn April into a diminutive. Amy’s basically like... hands down the reason why i never gave up on writing an Indie female OC, and that’s because Amy’s a boss and she also happens to be a spectacular writer, both in the RPC and in real life. @agentharrisonofshield and last but not least, this girl. Right here. April has like... a bevy of Awesome Girl Squad frands. All of whom are infinitely more talented and bad ass than she is, like. Legit. April’s smart. but in a fight? She’s basically cannon fodder by comparison. She just isn’t built for the field. April and Viv became friends because they got locked in a closet together. I’m not sure HOW that happened, but now they get together and chat in other languages and April feeds her, and basically this s the woman April goes to when she wants someone shot. I literally love all the headcanons we’ve put together and that Agent Harrison is invariably the first ‘shield agent’ April casually mentions outside of Echo, in threads of mine. That’s how you know you’ve found an awesome rp partner and friend. When their own characters start casually infiltrating your threads in the form of namedrops.

[unsettledink]

So I'm offering a Starker (or Spiderio or any combo of the three) fic, min 5k, for the Marvel Trumps Hate charity auction. I know I'm not exactly well known in this fandom, but hey, here's a chance to get some custom made fic! (The auction ends Saturday the 24th!)

I know browsing the auctions for things I want bid on, I've had some moments of 'but what specifically would I want to read?'. Maybe others are having that thought too? So I thought I'd put out some of the ideas sitting around, waiting for me to write them, in case one catches someone's interest enough to donated $10 to charity! (I've got one of these for Spiderio too, if that's appealing.)

I'm kind of grouping these because it got long. (Smut, smut + feels, fluff, oh no the sads)

Just the smut! (Ok some feels):

Continuation of Hang Up – so what does happen the next morning after that phone call? (Sex. Probably more phone sex.)

Peter is dumb online – Peter decides to auction off his virginity online. Of course Tony finds out immediately. Of course Tony buys it to keep Peter from getting hurt. Of course Tony decides to meet up and teach Peter a lesson about being safe – wait. That might have been a mistake. (It's not.)

Actually, Peter doesn't like it rough – miscommunication piled on top of miscommunication because they're both idiots who are desperate for each other, until a tipping point is reached. Happy ending! Fluffy ending!

Gag reflex training – pretty much what it sounds like. Tony having a lot of fun with Peter; messy, noisy, hopefully hot.

Experienced Peter – Peter hasn't been waiting around for Tony to be the first, and he's had time to figure out some of his preferences. Like topping almost exclusively, among other things.

Civil War pick me up – after the airport, Tony goes to check on Peter and is in desperate need of something nice. Peter really, really wants to be that something nice. Could be underage, could be not.

Continuation of Gift Wrapped – (Peter/Tony/Pepper) there's a lot more sex happening for Tony's birthday than I had time to write for kinktober.

But you want me to be safe, don't you? - Peter's hit with sex pollen, but it can be taken care of without outside help. Peter would still really like it if Tony would help. Or would at least keep an eye on him. Or at least stay in hearing range! He won't be able to resist if Peter's noisy and saying his name while he gets off, right???

Armor Kink - I mean, basically what it says on the tin. Peter’s been having fantasies about the armor forever. Tony is absolutely willing to help him with that.

ABO forced presentation – Peter doesn't know what he'll end up being, and that's bad for Reasons. He convinces Tony try forcing a presentation (not noncon type forcing) and things get weird. Playing around with the idea of how non-binary might go in ABO. Possible Tony/Peter/Pepper endship. More than likely somewhat underage.

Avengers orgy – Peter's finally old enough to join in the tradition! While he's having fun with everyone, Peter and Tony keep gravitating to each other, winding up with things getting a little too emotional when Tony finally gets his chance. Potential for Tony/Peter/Rhodey endship.

The spider bite did what?!? - Peter starts having really weird cravings when he's around Tony. Weird as in blood, and Tony is going to help him figure this out. Even when it turns into a craving for sex (and bloodplay). Even when it turns into terrifying (for Peter) egg/medical kink.

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Smut! Oh wait, where did all these feelings come from?:

Toybox – slightly darker Peter decides if Tony won't fuck him, the least Tony can do is pay for Peter's toys, and watch while Peter enjoys them. No touching allowed since Tony doesn't want him, after all. Which is a rule that gets harder and harder to keep in place; feelings, so many feelings everywhere.

Pain kink Peter – what it says on the tin, lol. “Oh Mr. Stark, maybe you should supervise this slightly dangerous sex thing I like.” I think we can guess where it heads from there.

Call boy Peter – what it sounds like! It's an accident that Tony gets him; good thing Peter was blindfolded! Bad thing that Peter's senses are enhanced and he knows from the start who it is. Good thing that Peter's not going to say anything so he can keep this reliable customer?

Evil Ex D/S verse – Peter's pretty insecure about being a good sub for Tony and it's not helped at all when one of Tony's ex subs tells him he'll never be able to take what Tony wants to dish out. Well, Peter's going to prove him wrong! Tony really doesn't understand why Peter is making himself miserable for something Tony doesn't even want, and things almost break before they get fixed.

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Fluff! (Crap there's not much):

Follow up to Seiche – mostly fluffy 5 times +1 where the emotion sensing bond causes (minor) problems

Fluffy D/S verse – all the fluff! All the outside POV! Everyone assumes that obviously Tony is a dom; after all, that's how he's always presented himself. Everyone is wroooooong. Tony's never been happier.

Nail polish – little bit of Tony finding it incredibly appealing when Peter wears nail polish

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Oh No + all the feelings, heavy on the bad ones:

Soulmark AU – Tony finds out first and isn't going to do anything due to the age difference. Peter finds out and thinks that's bullshit + horribly hurt that he's being rejected. Things are forced when Peter gets hit with a drug that messes with that bond and they both have to figure out how things are going to go. Possible bittersweet ending.

Screw soulmates, actually - Post CW and Tony dealing with soulmate rejection (that’s a WHOLE other fic). Peter’s become convinced Tony’s a blank like him, and then doesn’t understand why Tony’s soulmate wouldn’t want him. Peter does! They get their happy ever after without being fated for each other, and Peter gets a chance to tells Tony’s soulmate what a dick they are. All the satisfaction!

Untenable – sequel to Indefensible and … horrible. The ABO underage incest continues, Tony hates himself, Peter is distressingly happy. Mpreg makes everything ten times worse; endgame makes everything 100 times worse. Going beyond that would be spoilery, but uh. Everything becomes 1000 times worse by the end! Yay! Yikes.

ABO accidental bonding – the worst abo version, heads up. Underage Peter, omegas are treated very poorly, Peter and Tony don't know each other beforehand and don't do great getting to know each other afterwards. Biology continues to fuck Peter over, and Tony really doesn't get how desperately Peter wants Tony to like him. Mountains and mountains of angst and sad before the happy ending.

Copy - After IW, Tony makes a Peter clone/android/whatever. Unfortunately, it just makes things worse because it’s just enough off to make it super obvious it’s not Peter. And fake!Peter knows it too. He’s just enough like real Peter to fall in love with Tony too, and he can’t figure out how to make Tony care about him instead of real, dead Peter. Not that it matters when he snap is reversed (Tony lives) and fake!Peter isn’t needed or wanted anymore. (Will probably have a sequel where real Peter finds out about all this, probably happy ending for everyone.)

Nothing sticks around - years after the blip, Peter discovers Tony, alive - only Tony has none of his memories. Tony doesn’t want anything to do with these people Peter tries to reintroduce him to; he trusts Peter and wants to stay with him. And does, for quite some time, things turning into a relationship, and even if Peter feels guilty about it, he’s happy. Right up until Tony suddenly remembers everything ... except what’s been going on the last few years with Peter. Undecided if there’s a happy ending or not.

I hate time travel - once Tony figures out time travel, he decides he needs to find out if this works by hopping forward and seeing if Peter is back. And then maybe he should hop forward a little more just to check on him. Keeps doing this, about once a year, and while Peter is so glad to see him, it’s destroying Peter to basically go through Tony ‘dying’ over and over. Pretty soon it’s fucking up Tony too, after he accidentally shows up when Peter’s in the middle of sex. Very bittersweet ending to maintain the timeline.

Fuck you, Beck - Beck goes about getting the glasses in the worst ways, and Peter finds out a little too late - way too late when it comes to sleeping with him. Not that he’s going to ever tell anyone about that. Not even Tony, when Tony comes back. Not even Tony, when it turns out Tony is interested. Okay, maybe he’ll have to tell Tony when Peter’s reactions to sex become a problem. Happy ending but lots of ouch on the way.

Sequel to Dormant - so what exactly does Tony notice the morning after? And what exactly does Peter do about it? (Spoiler: A lot more than Peter thought he would, and nothing good.)

Don't punish people like that – as much Tony/Obie as Tony/Peter, maybe pre-Tony/Peter. Obie decided to deal with Tony's wild streak by punishing him in an especially awful, painful, dehumanizing, sexual way. Tony's managed to handle how awful that was by pretending it was helpful (nope!). When Peter will not stop misbehaving, the last resort Tony can think of is what was done to him. It helped, right? (He can't bring himself to in the end, which sets off a cascading failure of repressed trauma, woot!)

Sex Pollen Non-Con – Tony's hit with some sort of fuck or die stuff; only problem is that he 100% refuses to let Peter do anything, and there's no one else. Peter, convinced that Tony's going to die, stops giving Tony a choice. What's that, the trauma Tony was hoping to spare him is replaced with way worse trauma from basically raping Tony? WHOOPS. (Probably happy ending!)

Secondhand verse – following after this, things growing steadily worse, hotter, and more complex between Peter, Beck, and Tony. Bad decisions all around! Unexpected feelings all around! General unhappiness at having feelings that can be hurt all around! Probably a series of fics.

12:00 - follow up to 11:59, Tony and Peter finally getting it on and Beck being an ass in the background. Also the prequel that’s primarily Peter/Quentin, and possibly a sequel where Tony decides that maybe it wasn’t the worst thing in the world, watching Beck fuck Peter - and Peter liked it, right? Everyone’s down for a totally uncomplicated round two, right?

(And feel free to talk to me about anything here, I love an excuse to ramble.)