#I would pay to watch that if I’m being honest. Nine year old me knows what’s up.

[randomtheidiot]

I dunno about you, but Pokémon: Indigo League plus Minecraft sounds Fucking AWESOME if I do say so myself. If I were hearing about this crossover at nine years old, I think I’d piss myself.

[tinyinvadr]

Psychonauts brainrot is in full force! I finished the first game recently and I’m probably gonna start the second one tonight! So, here’s a new fic, (with an OC this time, ooh) let’s see if I finish it lol

Psychoborrower

Prologue

Psychics. Seemingly ordinary people with extraordinary powers, hidden in plain sight. Masters of the mind. You’d think they’d be regarded with only the highest of respect.

But instead, they’re shunned. Cast away. Treated like freaks and monsters for their gifts. It’s the kind of treatment that fosters resentment. Rage. Hatred.

The only way to truly make it is to earn a place in the ranks among the Psychonauts. But even then, only a select few can achieve that. Those who fail are forced back into their everyday lives, where they will have to hide who they truly are, or risk facing an even worse fate.

Though, they’re still better off than me.

At least they have a world to go back to, even if it’s cold and unwelcoming. They still have options open to them, they can still attempt to find happiness in a mundane, ordinary life. Because at the end of the day, psychics are human.

Except for me.

My name is Flint, and as far as I know, I’m the only borrower with psychic powers. To be honest, I have no idea how rare that actually is, since borrowers typically don’t see each other on a regular basis. I can only assume it’s not common, considering how my parents reacted when they found out.

I was only five years old, and they were… horrified.

I had no idea I was different. I just assumed everyone could levitate. But when they walked in on me floating in my room… I’ll never forget the look in their eyes.

The fear and shame directed towards me by my own parents was enough to break my concentration, and I fell flat on my face.

For some time, I stopped using my powers. After all, it was a “bad, dangerous thing”, as Dad described it. But there were some things I just couldn’t help.

I could read minds. And not just my parents, our human hosts too. They had a kid around my age who was also psychic, although they were a lot more supportive of her. They actively helped her learn to control her powers, and didn’t even get mad when she accidentally broke stuff.

Every day, I would watch and listen as she progressed, wishing it was me. But as time went on, I became a rebellious little nine year-old. I started copying her from my place within the walls, always making sure to stay hidden. And I’ve gotta say, I got pretty good all things considered.

Then, one day, the time came for my training to pay off.

Mom and I were out in the garden, collecting fresh vegetables. She had her back turned, but I saw the rabbit just in time.

The beady-eyed demon charged at us. We were in its territory, and it did not intend to share. Thinking fast, I knocked it back with a psychic blast. Stunned and startled, the beast ran away.

In those few short seconds, I felt like a hero. But then, I turned to Mom, and saw that same look in her eyes that almost turned me off from my powers for good.

“Flint… what have you done?”

I got grounded that night, and I was enraged. I saved her, why was she mad at me?

It wasn’t until the next morning that I learned the reason.

Apparently, I hit the rabbit harder than I thought, and it took severe psychic damage. Not enough to kill it, but enough to leave it in an unconscious state. So when the humans went into the garden and found the rabbit, they immediately knew it was knocked out by a psychic blast. And since their daughter was at school the day before, they knew that there had to be another psychic in the area.

I alerted them of my existence. Of our existence. If they found us, it would’ve been my fault.

Mom and Dad started packing up to move right away. We couldn’t stick around long after that incident. But the entire time, I couldn’t help but think that this wouldn’t solve the problem. Even if we moved to a new house, that wouldn’t stop me from being psychic. My only options were to suppress my true nature, or to continue to put my family at risk.

As the last of our belongings were packed, and the school year came to an end, I overheard more from the humans. They were sending their daughter to a psychic summer camp. It was a place for kids to train, to connect with others, and eventually, have the potential to become Psychonauts.

So much of what I’d heard from their thoughts about the Psychonauts intrigued me. They were psychics who went on daring and dangerous missions to save the world from all sorts of threats. They could astral project themselves into the psyches of anyone, and fight their inner demons head-on. And in the mental world, the possibilities are endless. If I could just access it, I wouldn’t have to be a weak, scared little borrower kid anymore. I could be whoever I wanted to be.

And that… was my only chance at redemption.

I felt bad leaving my parents so abruptly, but I knew they would try to stop me if I told them where I was going. It would hurt, but I’d come back as a Psychonaut, proving that my powers truly are good for something, and that borrowers have a place in this world.

With that goal in mind, I stowed away in the girl’s luggage, and I was off to Whispering Rock Psychic Summer Camp.

It took a few tries to get my astral projection right, but soon enough, I was able to present myself in the mental world at human size. The counselors and the other campers had no clue I was any different.

Of course, the staff did question me. I appeared out of nowhere, seemed to have no family they could get in contact with, and refused to show myself in the physical world.

I told them I’m a master of invisibility, and I take that title very seriously. Coach Oleander and Agent Nein just shrugged it off as me being a weird kid, though Agent Vodello was still very concerned about my lack of parents.

By the end of the first summer, they all gave up on trying to figure me out and just accepted that I was living at the camp with the intention of training there full-time.

Despite all the risks and doubts that I had, going to camp really was my best possible option. I was no longer a danger to my family, and I was on my way to becoming a Psychonaut. It was sure to be a long road ahead. I was so young, and still had a lot to learn.

After a few years, it really felt like I was getting close. I had a reputation around camp as the top student. Serious. Driven. Someone you should aspire to be. I could sense that my chance was right within my reach. I was almost 13, surely they’d have to let me join the Psychonauts soon.

But that summer had other plans. I found myself involved with an insane scheme, and as much as I hate to admit it, I probably wouldn’t have gotten out of it without help from a human kid with goggles.

[astaroth1357]

Demigod MC Series: Athena

So. I have to deal with the virgin goddesses… By mythos, there really shouldn't ever be children of Artemis, Hestia, or Athena (yes, Athena was a virgin goddess). PJ got past that by making it canon that Annabeth and her siblings were born from cracking open Athena's skull (yes, that's also more or less the canon explanation). They gloss over it real quick but I remember, Rick. I've always remembered and that mental image has haunted me for years...

I can't, in good conscience, ignore the history around Athena's worship (call it an academic restraint) but I REFUSE to do the skull thing. So, since I make the rules here, I'm going with magic adoption. They still get magic powers, they're just more human than demigod. Cool? Cool.

Demigod MC Series: Intro, Aphrodite, Hermes, Hades, Dionysus, Demeter, Athena

Lucifer

The human that popped out of the portal seemed to have enough sense not to attack everyone in the room for a change, but even Lucifer could tell that was more of a strategic choice than for lack of ability...

Their very existence was highly unusual… and quite worrisome. He wasn't even aware Athena could have "children" of her own, but apparently she had been taking in some particularly bright humans to raise and train like her own...

Unbeknownst to him, a surprising amount of human scholars, diplomats, and generals have her to thank for their trade… and that alone should speak to the level of intrigue at play here. 

Was this an accident or Athena's attempt to plant an Olympian spy in the Devildom too…? Either way, he didn't trust them from the get go…

Look, Lucifer isn’t stupid. Athena is a goddess of Wisdom and War and war happens on more than just the battlefield… 

Since they've shown up records have been going missing, official documents keep getting misplaced, and he swears that there's some kind of bug in the student council room...!

It's infuriating watching the MC suck up to Diavolo when he's almost certain that they're running their own agenda behind the scenes! And he can't prove any of it!! They cover their tracks too well!

Lucifer has one of those corkboards covered in newspapers and string in a secret wing of the Castle - 100% dedicated to just tracking the MC's activities…. The longer they're there, the more obsessed he becomes...

He swears between Simeon, Solomon, and MC he feels like a shepherd wondering why the sheep are growling… The Devildom has never been in more danger than it is right now... Send help.

Mammon

To be honest, he kind of thought that they were just going to be Satan 2.0 but that's not really true.

They're more than just a book sponge! Though they do read, like a lot. Let’s just say from one schemer to another… Game recognizes Game.

They come up with plans and ideas soooo fast, it’s insane! Honestly, there are times where he has a new money-making plot and he just brings it to the MC first to run it over. 

Nine times out of ten, not only do they sniff out any problems but they have a solution for him in a matter of minutes! His scheme game has been on point since they’ve shown up!!

They’re also even better tutoring than Satan is, so he’s even managed to get a couple A’s for the first time in his life! Lucifer actually told him he was proud (which he secretly recorded and now uses as a ringtone much to his brother’s regret...)

So yeah, he likes them... buuut that doesn’t keep him from thinking they act a little weird sometimes... 

Mammon: *points to a unused tower close to the RAD building* Over there is the Tower of Sorrow. We use it for storage.

MC: Ah. Interesting… *starts writing in a notebook, muttering* It may need a few minor tweaks but the location is defensible...

Mammon: *stops* Ya say somethin’?

MC: *looks back up* Nope! Say, you’ve been to the Castle a lot haven’t you? Do you know any good ways in?

Mammon: Uhm… Why do ya want to know that…? *starts looking around for Lucifer*

MC: In case of emergencies. I like being prepared. 🙂

Mammon: Look, I don’t know what Lucifer might’a told ya…

MC: I’ll pay you a thousand Grimm for it.

Mammon: Well shit, ya want those maps with or without color?

... Yeeeah, that’s pretty weird… But it’s probably fine. I mean, as long as they keep giving him money, who’s he to complain? 🤷‍♀️

Leviathan

Also thought that they’d be a lot more like Satan but was pleasantly surprised that they were into more than books.

What else did they like exactly? Military strategy!!

It’s been a looong time since he’s been able to talk to someone who’s actually interested in all the battles he’s fought, both in the Celestial Realm and the Devildom, and their curiosity is kind of flattering...! Not a lot of people take his strategic prowess all that seriously anymore...

Plus, they are the BEST partner to have any turn-based strategy game. Hands down. He once got stuck on a level of D-COM for weeks until the MC walked in and mopped the floor with the AI!! They have a serious head for probability and tactics.

The House once made the mistake of letting these two be on the same team during a Hell Game and they absolutely demolished the competition. Mammon didn’t even get a single shot off before half his team was lost to a rigged paint grenade… It took a whole day to clean up… 

However, Levi’s also noticed some odd things about the human… He likes that they’re interested in his past but maybe they’re a little… too interested?

Levi: -and that’s how we defeated the Four Horsemen before they escaped from Purgatory. 

MC: Wow, Levi that’s seriously impressive!! *furiously scribbling on a notebook*

Levi: Well t-thanks… 😅 But, uhm... are you writing that down…?

MC: Hm? Oh no, just doodling. *they lift up the notebook to show a bunch of cute little sketches on the page… and not the magic-based invisible ink all over them…*

Levi: Oh you draw too? Can you do fanart???

MC: Eh, sometimes. But say Levi, can you tell me about your naval ranks again? I’m still really curious… *gets the pen ready again with a smile*

Satan

Oh, it's been a long game of cat-and-mouse between these two… and unfortunately, it’s been pretty addicting too.

He honestly had every intention of tricking the human into making a huge mess do he could bother Lucifer, but at every turn they proved just a hair too clever for him...

He once gave them a cursed book to “lend” to Lucifer, but they saw through it the moment they touched it and lifted the spell before handing it over.

He rigged a podium to spray glitter during one of Lucifer's speeches but the MC disconnected the trigger mic before he even got on stage. It was pretty dang frustrating...

At one point he got so desperate that, just as a test, he tried to trap them in the House's Music Room. Fortunately for them, it only took a few minutes to work out an escape. They even passed by him in the hallway with a wink!

It's confounding! It's infuriating!! 

...and it's so damn sexy... He should be furious but he’s just in awe!!

Add on that they know their art, literature, and multiple different crafts thanks to the tutelage of their adopted mother and that’s it. He’s finished. This boy is in love.

Truthfully though, a part of him is 90% sure that they’re also gathering state secrets… Like, they’re watching Barbs and Diavolo far too close for comfort - but he just can't bring himself to care. 🤷‍♀️

The MC could walk into his room one day and say, "Hey, do you want to help overthrow the monarchy with me?" and he dreads it because deep down he knows that he wouldn’t say no…

Take some notes, kids. Some bad influences get you to drink or do drugs. Others pull you into a centuries long conspiracy to destabilize and topple rival realms from within… But he has fallen for their brain hard. Devil help them all…

Asmodeus 

They’re pretty clever, he’ll give them that, but uh… Are they a little off to anybody else?

Asmo is a charmer by birthright so he has a bit of nose for when someone’s just a liiittttle too nice… Not much of a nose mind you, because he can be thrown off by compliments himself, but enough to think that the MC might be a little too… “kind” for their own good...

First off, who wants to spend that much time with Levi?? They don’t even seem that interested in anime! They just keeping asking him for old war stories…

Then all the sucking up they do to Diavolo and Barbatos? Look, he gets it. Diavolo is a delicious piece of man-hunk and his butler could give him a lesson or two in sweet-talk (and he has), but they seem to be just a little too… nosy.

Of course, Asmo’s suspicions disappear pretty quickly after they start to spoil him with spa nights and beauty secrets they picked up from “casual research” into the subject.

And you know, get a little Demonus in Asmo and start massaging his back? Oh, sweetie he’ll sing like a bird!! … with gossip. Singing with gossip.

Asmo: So I’ve heard that Lucifer has been spending more time at RAD than usual… His whole club is talking about it, they think he’s meeting with some witch!

MC: Hm, is that so? *works on a knot near his shoulder blades* What do you think?

Asmo: Ooh~! Right there, MC! *purrs and lays his head on his arms* Well come on, this is Lucifer we’re talking about! I’m sure he’s just working.

Asmo: Hmm... though come to think of it, I think I heard him asking Barbatos for the spare keys to the Tower of Sorrow…

MC: Oh really? Huh. *works out the knot and gets up* I just remembered that I left some papers with Satan... I’ll be right back.

Asmo: You’re going already??

MC: *waves him off quickly* I’ll be right back, Asmo. *hurries out the door to do totally on-the-up-and-up things… surely*

Beelzebub 

Honestly he doesn't like this one… But not for the reasons you'd expect.

He agrees with everyone else that they seem a little shady, but Solomon and Simeon are too so it's not like that's anything new... 🤷‍♀️

No, no. He dislikes them because they're the person who FINALLY figured out how to keep him from eating all the food in the kitchen!!

Turns out that the trick was to put a teleportation charm on the fridge door that would send all the food away if it’s opened after a certain time of night… 

And where does it go? The Purgatory Hall fridge. And where does the Purgatory Hall food go…? The HoL fridge…

It doesn’t sound so bad until you remember that it means half of their fridge is now Solomon’s leftovers…. 🤢

After they put the same kind of spell on the pantry, it was all over… He couldn't get midnight snacks from the House anymore… Everything was contaminated by Solomon…

The MC is a nice enough person, he doesn’t have a lot of complaints about them, but he wants them to leave. Now. This is inexcusable… He’s so hungry… and he doesn’t want to die by “goulash” or whatever Solomon calls his latest culinary catastrophe… He’s still too young for death… 😓

Belphegor 

In a way, he absolutely could not have asked for a better person to help him get out of that attic.

… In another way, he got one of the worst possible people to try and kill... Like. They saw through his scheme sooo fast…

How was he supposed to know that the human had training in body language and sniffing out lies???

Getting the door open was a piece of cake for them. They knew enough magic to undo the seals and just rummaged around Lucifer's stuff long enough to find the key to the door. He could not have found a more competent individual for a break out, really.

It’s just… well he didn’t expect to go from locked in a room like a prisoner to tied up in enchanted rope, still like a prisoner but now mobile. 😑 

They even used his own hug ruse against him! They caught his wrists when they got close and tied him up before he could shake them off...

Admittedly, it wasn't exactly the best look for them either - what with walking Belphegor downstairs to the others like a one-man-prison-caravan but they're as silver-tongued as they are sly so they talked their way out of it beautifully… 

And like hell was he going to trust them after that!! And not even Beel liked them so something had to be up...

Well, you want a detective? Look no farther than Belphie (no seriously, it’s in the canon). He can put things together pretty fast when he puts his mind to it and watching the MC for a while gave him enough proof to work off of...

He always knew that, humans were bad news and the MC just proved it to him all over again. They are bad news, bad bad news and they’re going to-!

Overthrow… Diavolo…? Is that what he is getting from them…? Huh…

Wait a second, MC. You might just have him interested… 😏

[atlafan]

And They Were Roommates - One Shot

a/n: I’ve had this idea for a long time, and I’m glad it’s finally come together. I love friends to lovers fics, they make my stomach twist in the best possible way, so I hope you all enjoy these two! Feedback and reblogs are always helpful. (not proofread)

Warnings: two idiots refusing to just get together until they do, SMUT, mentions of Only Fans (which I truthfully know nothing about, but I wanted to make things saucy)

Words: 11.3K

“We just need to be quiet in case my roommate’s home.” You say to your date, Jeremy, as you key into your flat. He nods with a grin as you enter.

“Hey, lovie, how was the-“ Harry smirks when he sees you come in with your date. “I see it went well, never mind.”

You roll your eyes at him. He was sitting on the couch in some sweat pants, and that was it, watching some romantic comedy.

“Harry, this is Jeremy, Jeremy this is my roommate Harry.”

“I’m her best friend too, but I can see she clearly hasn’t brought me up all night. M’a little offended, pet.”

“Okay, well, I’ll try to be more courteous.” You shake your head at him, and tug Jeremy along to your bedroom. “Sorry about him. He usually goes out on Friday nights, but lately he’s been staying in more.”

“You…you live with that guy?”

“Sure.” You shrug and then wrap your arms around his neck. “We’ve been friends for years, and we’re in the same grad program, so it just made sense to split a flat.”

“Listen…uh, I was excited that you invited me up, but I can’t fuck you with that guy sitting out there.”

“What?” You frown and step back. “Why not?”

“Because I’ll just think you’re thinking of him the whole time. He’s…like…perfect! I can’t compete with that.”

“Jeremy, you’re being silly, just clear your head, we can-“

“Sorry, Y/N.”

Jeremy opens your door and leaves you standing in your room. You were in shock. Jeremy walks quickly back out into the main area, and sees Harry still sitting and watching his movie.

“Oi, that was quick, mate. Hope you left my girl satisfied.” Harry grins at a disgruntled Jeremy, and he leaves.

“You know it’s comments like that…” You sniffle as you stand there in your pretty dress and heels. “That make guys just up and leave.”

“What are you talking about?”

“He took one look at you sitting there like that and ran off!”

“So, I can’t even sit in the comfort of my own living room without some douche feeling emasculated? Are you sure you want someone like that fucking you, Y/N?”

“I just wanted to hook up! Christ, now I have to go take care of it myself.” You groan.

“Well, when you’re done, come join me. We can watch My Best Friend’s Wedding.” He leans forward and smiles. “You look really nice tonight, I’m sorry he was an idiot.”

“Thanks.” You wipe your finger under your nose. “Would you make some popcorn or something?”

“On it.”

Alright, some explanation is probably needed here. See, you and Harry met your sophomore year of uni, no, not drunk at some party, in class, actually. You both were education majors, so you ended up having a lot of classes together once you really dove into your major courses. You got paired up on a project together, and there was no separation between the two of you after that.

Normally, Harry wouldn’t have been the type of guy you’d be friends with. To be honest, he dressed like a douchebag when you first met him. You wondered why he’d want to be a teacher. He had floppy curls, wore a snapback with every outfit, and you didn’t think he owned a pair of jeans that didn’t have any rips in them. Although, you did enjoy his Chelsea boots, his sweaters, and his nail polish and rings.

You were innocent, and sort of preppy while he was loud mouthed and scruffy. Your friend groups never merged, but your best friend knew about your friendship with Harry. She’d constantly poke fun and say you had a crush on him. You didn’t. Harry was hot as fuck, anyone with eyes could see that, but you weren’t into him in that way. That was one of the reasons he liked hanging out with you so much. Most girls that tried to be his friend were just trying to fuck, and that could be fun, but sometimes he genuinely wanted to meet up for coffee and have a conversation without it leading to screwing on an extra-long twin bed.

Harry’s friends knew you well. As the years went on, you’d often be the one he’d bring back to his place drunk. You started off by sleeping on the floor, and then one night you realized you both adults and could sleep in the same bed. His friends would give him an equally tough time about you. Sometimes you’d come over and wait in his room for him while he was out with another girl. To some that may have been weird, but nothing was better than drunk platonic cuddles.

There was one night, your senior year, you had woken up with him spooning you. In all the nights spent together, you two never fell asleep or woke up like that. You didn’t shift when you felt his morning wood poking you. His arm was draped loosely over you. You almost wanted to see if he’d make a move, so you pretended to stay asleep a little longer. His hand had slid to your hip and squeezed it, but that was the extent of the interaction. He rolled onto his back, and you did the same. You looked up at him and started giggling.

“It’s not funny.” He groaned, putting his forearm over his eyes.

“Didn’t know I did it for you, Har.” You poked the dimple forming on his face as he smiled.

“Don’t flatter yourself, sweetheart, happens to every guy in the morning.” He peered down at you and you rolled your eyes.

You had never spoken about it afterwards. You didn’t want to embarrass him. When you both talked about grad school, and got into the same university, he asked you to be his flat-mate.

“You don’t wanna live with Niall and Louis anymore?”

“They’re getting real jobs, they won’t wanna listen to me complain about school. I’ve found a great two bedroom place. I think it could be fun for us. Dontcha wanna live with me, baby?” He pouted at you and you nudged his shoulder and laughed.

“Christ, I hate it when you start getting all beggy. Alright, we can live together.”

He took you in his arms and hugged you. You were both extremely excited. Sometimes it seemed like you and Harry knew everything about each other, but that was not the case. After you moved in and got settled, it was time you revealed something to him. You called him into your bedroom to talk.

“Is everything okay? You’re not having doubts, are you?”

“No! Not at all, I’m glad we’re doing this. I feel safe with you here, and I’m glad we still have classes together. I…I just need to tell you something. Um, I don’t know what you do to...like, when you’re alone, I don’t know what you use, but I know things can pop up geographically, so I just wanted to warn you.” You bit your bottom lip, and turned your laptop around to show him your Only Fans page. His eyes widened, and then he shook his head.

“This is a joke, right? You made a fake website.”

“It’s not fake…” You muttered. “I don’t do lives, I don’t get naked, and I don’t show my face.”

“Then what do you do?”

“I was a dance minor, as you may recall.” He nodded yes at you. “So I make little strip tease videos and blur my face. Sometimes I take lingerie photos too. It’s a wonder what people will pay for.”

“How’d you get into this?” There was no judgement in his voice, he was genuinely curious.

“It started as a joke between Jenna and I, but then we started making money, and it’s enough that I can pay all my bills and live comfortably. I’ve already paid off one of my student loans thanks to this. I don’t even know if you use Only Fans, but I knew you’d probably recognize me or something if you stumbled across it so…I just wanted to warn you.”

“You know…the coffee shop I work at is hiring if you don’t feel like doing this kind of stuff.” He smirked.

“I actually don’t mind it. I essentially work for myself.”

“So you don’t sit in front of your camera and get yourself off with little bunny ears on?”

“No.” You laughed. “Just videos of me dancing in some intricate lighting, and saucy photos.”

“Can I see?”

“What?!”

“Not one of the videos, show me some pictures.”

“Harry…”

“Come on. I’ve seen you dressed to the nines before, but I’m having trouble believing you would take any provocative photos.”

“Fine.” You clicked through the various photos, and find a mostly decent one. “Here, you can look at this one.”

His eyes widen again as he scans it over. You could only see your face from the lips down. You had a lollypop pressed to them, and some of the juice from it was dripping down your chin. You were laying on your bed in a pink lace bodysuit, and if he squinted he could probably see your nipples, but he chose against it. Your legs were up against the headboard, crossed at the ankle.

“Well?” You asked.

“It’s, uh, it’s very tasteful.” He cleared his throat. “Thanks for telling me…I…I  mean I definitely look at porn sometimes, so…uh…definitely wouldn’t have wanted to accidentally wanked it to you.”

“I doubt you would have even stayed on my page for long. You probably like to watch the really freaky shit.” You grinned and closed your laptop.

“I don’t know, there’s something sort of sexy about someone looking so innocent.”

“And that’s exactly what my viewers seem to say in the comments.”

Harry never brought up your page after that. You didn’t make him promise not to go searching for it, you just figured he wouldn’t. With all that aside, your living situation was working out perfectly. Sometimes Harry would bring home the day old muffins or bagels from the coffee shop, and you both had all the free coffee you could drink.

When you first moved in he was like his old self. He went out on dates almost every weekend. Normally he wouldn’t bring someone back, but once in a while he would. You never minded, you’d bring people back too, but you started to notice a pattern. Most guys either would have a tough time fucking you if he was home, or would end up leaving the way Jeremy did. You weren’t sure why they felt so threatened by Harry.

You supposed Jeremy could have been taken aback by seeing Harry shirtless. He was muscular, but not quite skinny. Buff in a way. He could hurt someone if he really wanted to. Once you’ve changed into some comfy pj’s, you plop down on the couch with Harry, and dive into the bowl of popcorn he made so you could watch your movie.

“So, I take it you’re not gonna take care of things yourself?”

“I’m too annoyed now.” You sigh. “It’s fine. I’ll try my luck with some random when we go out tomorrow night.”

“Good idea.” He throws his arm around you, and you both settle as the opening credits start.

//

Harry had to be up early for his shift at the coffee shop. After getting some schoolwork done, you took the opportunity to get some other work done. You had to be dressed for the club tonight anyways, so you got dolled up, and took some new photos for your page. You always got comments about your lips, so you’d use blow-pops to kiss against, or to rub against. You got some really great shots in, and got dressed in your regular clothes before Harry got home.

“Got your evening makeup on already? It’ll be hours before we leave, love.” He says as he runs a hand through his hair.

“You’re not the only one that worked today.” You wink at him and he rolls his eyes.

“You know, if I didn’t have all my tattoos I could be doing the same thing you’re doing.”

“Plenty of people with tattoos have pages.”

“The last thing I need is to start working at some school, and have a parent recognize me for the wrong reasons.”

“True.” You nod and go into the fridge. “I’m gonna make some stirfry, are you hungry?”

“I could eat.” He shrugs. “I’m gonna go shower.”

“Alright.”

You didn’t necessarily mind that you’re dating life was a little tricky. You had all the domesticity you could need with Harry, however, you were certainly hoping to meet someone tonight at the club. You just wanted to have a meaningless hookup.

After dinner, and having a couple of drinks at home, you and Harry meet up with Niall and Louis at the club. Louis and Harry were laughing over something, so you decide to pay Niall a little attention. You always thought he was cute and funny. He was always nice to you too, as was Louis.

“How are things with your classes?” He asks. “Sort of wish I was doing the grad school thing.”

“Oh, but your job is so cool! Data analysis is riveting.” You giggle against the rim of your drink and he shakes his head. “Classes are good. I’m more so just excited to start teaching, but I have a while for that yet. Practicum last year was such a tease.”

“I bet you’d be a fun teacher, you’d certainly have no problem keeping my attention.” He slings one of his arms around the back of the booth you were sitting in and he inches closer. You smile at him and take a sip of your drink.

“Yeah? Why’s that?” You put your hand on his shoulder and twirl the material of his shirt around your finger.

“Your voice for one thing. It’s smooth, soothing. Your smile is sweet, so that helps too.”

You blush a little from his compliments, and finish your drink.

“Need another, babe?” Harry asks, breaking you and Niall from your little chat.

“I can get it.” Niall says. “Vodka tonic?”

“Please.” You smile and watch him go up to the bar. Louis and Harry look at you. “What?”

“Are you trying to fuck Niall?” Louis asks.

“Of course she’s no-“ Harry says, but he’s cut off by you.

“So what if I am?” She scoffs. “It’s safer than trying to get some guy I don’t know, right?”

“If that’s the case, why not just fuck Harry?” Louis smirks.

Harry death glares Louis as your face scrunches.

“It’s a little cliché, isn’t it?” You say. “Fucking your roommate and best friend? I’ll pass. That’s a load of drama we don’t need.”

“So, what you’re saying is, if Harry wasn’t your roommate or your best friend, you’d fuck him?”

“Hmm…” You tap your chin playfully and look Harry up and down. Before you can answer, Niall returns with your drink, and another round for the guys. “Thank you.” You say to him, and he sits down closely next to you.

“You wouldn’t wanna dance, would you?” Niall asks you.

“I’d love to!”

You both get up and make your way over to the dancefloor. Harry sulks while he plays with the straw in his drink.

“What are you all mopey for, huh?” Louis asks him.

“I don’t really like the idea of them hooking up. Could change the dynamic of things for all of us.”

“Instead of worrying about that, why don’t we try to go meet some ladies of our own, hm?” Louis smiles at Harry, and Harry nods in agreement.

You were having a lot of fun dancing with Niall, and his laugh was infectious tonight. You told him you needed to use the ladies room, and when you came back he was acting like a completely different person.

“Did I do something wrong?” You ask him over the blaring music.

“No! I just…” He looks over at Harry and Louis and then back to you. “We really shouldn’t be messing around like this.”

“We were just dancing.”

“But it was going to lead to something more, no?”

“Did you want it to?”

“Well, yeah, but you’re my friend, and…I wouldn’t want to make anything weird between us.”

“So…you don’t wanna go into the single stall bathroom and have me suck you off?” You bat your lashes at him and his eyes widen.

“Shit.” He says under his breath. “Are you serious?”

“Yes.”

“Alright.”

He wraps his hand around your wrist, and leads you through the crowd of people. You both go into the bathroom without a single thought and lock the door. You could hear the music faintly as you looked at each other.

“You seemed pretty sure of things before.” You say to him.

“I…I wigged out for a second. I really want this.”

You smile and step forward, pressing your lips to his. His hands go to your hips, and he squeezes you. He tasted like the tequila he had been drinking, and you smile against him. You kiss across his jaw, and to his neck while your hands work to undo his belt.

“You’re okay with this?” You ask him.

“Yeah, go for it. Would it be easier if I sat up on the counter?”

“No, I don’t mind getting on my knees, thanks.” You smirk at him and sink down, tugging his pants and boxers down just enough for his hard dick to spring out. You look up at him, impressed.

“Don’t look so surprised.”

“Sorry.” You chuckle. “Good for you, though, honestly.”

You kiss his tip and he jerks slightly towards you. You wrap your lips around him, and suck on him. His hands move your hair back, and you close your eyes as you work him over. You pump what you can’t fit, or what you don’t feel like fitting, and you hear him panting. This is all you wanted, you just wanted to make someone feel good.

“Y/N, I’m gonna come.” He warns you, and you give his thigh a squeeze to let him know it’s okay.

He comes into your mouth, and you swallow it to not make a mess. He helps you stand up, and then you help him zip his pants. After rinsing your mouth out he grabs you and kisses you. Your eyes flutter closed as he sucks on your bottom lip.

“Would you finger me?” You ask him just above a whisper against your lips.

“I’ll do anything you want.”

//

Louis was off making out with some girl while Harry was at the bar, brooding. You and Niall come back from the bathroom with flushed cheeks. Harry looks at you, and then looks at Niall. Niall just rubs the back of his neck and looks away.

“Y/N, are you ready to go home?” Harry asks her.

“Um…I was hoping to have another drink, but if you wanna leave we can.”

“I’d like to, yeah.”

You both say goodnight to Niall, and head out. He doesn’t say anything to in the back of the cab, and he’s quiet as you both go inside your flat. He fills two glasses of water and hands one to you.

“What’s wrong?” You ask him.

“Why’d you have to fuck my friend? Of all the guys in there, it had to be Niall?”

“I’m going to bed, I’m not having this conversation with you.” You start to walk away from him.

“So if I took Rachel into the bathroom at club and fucked her, you’d be fine with it?”

“Rachel’s a lesbian, so that’s a moot point.”

“You know what I’m trying to say.”

“I wouldn’t care, Harry. Also, you make it seem like Niall isn’t my friend, when he is. And not that it’s any of your business, but we didn’t do more than diddle each other. I sucked him off, and then I let him finger me, that was it.”

“You know, if you just needed to get off, I’m sure your own hand would have sufficed.” He huffs.

“Sometimes you just wanna feel someone else’s hand.” You say quietly.

“So Niall’s a good enough friend to diddle you, but I’m not? I’m extremely offended.”

“Harry…I don’t have to see Niall every day. It would get weird between us, and you know it.”

“I’m just saying, if you needed some help-“

“Don’t finish that sentence. You’re drunk, you don’t know what you’re talking about. Go put yourself to bed, I’m gonna go wash up.”

“I’m assuming no cuddles tonight then?”

“You’ve assumed correctly, goodnight.”

Harry emerges from his room around ten the next morning, thankful he had the day off from work. You were sitting on the couch in the living room, coffee cup in hand while reading one of your textbooks. He sees you’ve made coffee, and he pours himself a cup.

“Morning.” He yawns as he sits next to you.

“Morning.” You say without looking at him.

“Are you mad at me for some reason? Usually you come to my room after we’ve been out like that, and you didn’t…”

“Harry, do you seriously not remember what happened last night?” He shakes his head no at you. “It just wasn’t a good night for drunk cuddles, okay? Can we leave it at that?”

“Alright.” He shrugs and takes a sip of his coffee. “Do you feel like going to the campus library with me in a bit? I’ve got a paper to work on, and a change of scenery would do be some good.”

“Sure! I have some mock lesson plans I need to work on so that sounds good.”

He watches you get up and go into your room so you can get ready. He sighs to himself, feeling bad for lying to you. He takes his phone out to text Niall.

Harry: I’m sorry about last night…I know I can’t control what you do and who you do it with, and clearly what I said to you didn’t matter anyways

Niall: I was going to listen…but she really wanted it, mate, I’m sorry. It wasn’t anything serious, just two friends helping each other out, alright?

Harry: alright

Niall: are you sure you don’t have feelings for her?

Harry: I just don’t think it’s smart for our little circle to comingle like that, that’s all

Niall: whatever you say

“Harry, go get dressed, the sooner we go, the sooner we can come back and watch a movie.”

“Right.” He says with a smile and gets up.

//

Harry fucked up one night. He didn’t feel like trolling on Tinder for a lay, so he found himself on Only Fans. There were a couple of pages he was subscribed to, but they just weren’t doing it for him tonight. He wanted something a little different, so, against his better judgement…he went to your page. Sometimes he’d check it out just to make sure no one was leaving you any sick comments, he never really went there to ogle you. But because you didn’t use your face, he could use his imagination a little bit. He puts his headphones in, and clicks on one of your free videos.

He smiles when he hears one of your favorite songs playing in the background. You were a skilled video editor, hoping to teach that media arts. The video fades in, and there you are, completely clothed. You start dancing, it wasn’t over sexy, but you had a way about taking your clothes off. You were doing a chair dance, one of your specialties. The video ends with you just about to take your shirt off, and then it fades out with a smirk on your lips.

“Oh, she’s good.” He says to himself.

Leaving people wanting more was certainly key on this site. He sighs, and clicks through a couple of the other free things you had on your page, and then eventually he pays to subscribe. You’d never know it was him, it’s not like he used his real name. He was more curious than anything to see what else you could have on there. He clicks through some of your photos. His jaw drops when he sees you licking a lollypop.

There’s a knock on his door, and he nearly throws his laptop across the room. He exits out of his all his tabs and closes his laptop.

“Come in!”

“Hey.” You say, leaning against the door frame.

“What’s up?” He was sweating. Had you seen that you had a new subscriber? Had you somehow figured out it was him?

“I have cramps, can I come lay with you?”

“Oh.” He sighs with relief. “Sure.” He makes some room for you on his bed, and climb on, laying on your stomach.

“What were you up to?”

“Looking for some porn to watch, to be honest with you.” He chuckles as he rubs at your lower back.

“Oh, Christ.” You laugh and nudge his leg. “You didn’t need to let me in.”

“It’s alright, you’re more interesting anyways. How was your day? Feel like I barely saw you?”

“It was good. I had a lot of work to get done so I was at the library, and then I met up with Rach for dinner.”

“How’s she?”

“Good. She’s finally starting to make some friends at work.” You sit up and move to sit on your bum. “I have a cheeky idea. Let’s find a really bad porn to watch.”

“Together?”

“Yeah! We could find a cheesy one from the seventies or something, stuff our faces with ice cream and have a good laugh.”

“I’ll go get the ice cream, you find one to watch.” He slides his laptop over to you, and gets up.

You knew his password, so you enter it in. You open up his browser, and go on incognito mode. He comes back shortly with a gallon of ice cream and two spoons.

“Okay, I think I’ve found one. Major bush on this woman, and the guy.”

“Incredible.” He laughs and hands you a spoon. “Let’s see how they did it back then. Who knows, I may learn something new.”

“God, porn back then was only made for men.” You scoff, and take a bite of the ice cream. “I mean, these women just lay there and take it! What’s the fun in that?”

“I know, I like it when the girl’s a little more involved instead of just starfishing.”

“I’m all for a guy being on top, but you really shouldn’t just lay there. There’s still plenty a girl can do. Although, I have to say, when I’m not super into it, I just lay there until the guy comes.”

“Why not just speak up and tell him to do something else?”

“At that point there’s no coming back. Besides, you know how fragile the male ego is.” You smirk at him.

“True…although, I think it’s really hot when a girl is vocal in the bedroom. If she’s telling me how she likes it then I know she knows her body, and that image alone is so satisfying.” He takes a slow bite of the ice cream to watch your face.

“It doesn’t get frustrating?”

“Not for me.” He shrugs. “I mean, I’m usually able to figure it out without much help, but I always make sure to ask if it feels good.”

“What a gentleman.” You poke his cheek and he swats it away. “I like it when a guy is vocal too, like, isn’t afraid to moan, that kind of stuff.”

“I never understood why guys are so afraid to moan. If it feels good, let it out.”

“Exactly!”

You both completely forgot you had an old porn on in the background until you heard an extremely fake moan rip through the speaker. You both laugh hysterically.

“This must’ve been before boobs jobs got popular, those are as natural as they get.” Harry laughs.

“Jesus, I know, look at those things bounce!” You laugh, and then look down at yourself, frowning.

“What?”

“Well….I have, like, bowling ball tits, like when you go candle pin bowling, is it attractive to watch big, heavy boobs like that?” You point to the screen. “And mine are kinda saggy, and-“

“Please, stop talking about yourself like that. Don’t you have, like, thousands of subscribers on your Only Fans? People clearly like the way you look.”

“They’ve never seen me naked.”

“Still.” He looks down at your covered chest. You were wearing a sweatshirt. “You…not to sound creepy, but you’ve got a great set on you. I’ve always thought so.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I just never said anything because I didn’t want you knowing I was checking you out.” He smirks and throw one of his pillows at him. “It’s hard not to with some of the shirts or dresses you wear to the clubs sometimes. You really know how to make yourself look sexy.”

“Oh, and I’m not sexy right now?” You chuckle.

“No, you are, it’s just a different kind of sexy. Like, you more cute than anything else, but still totally fuckable.”

“Gee, thanks.” You roll your eyes and take another bite of ice cream. “Mm, we picked a really good flavor this week.”

“I know, way better than last week.”

“I’ve been having fun trying new flavors with you. Gives me something fun to look forward to. Is this twenty-two? Getting excited over ice cream flavors?”

“Pretty soon we’ll be excited over buying a new vacuum, or a dishrack.”

“Oh, I love a good dishrack.”

Harry bursts out laughing, and so do you. You ended up falling asleep with him in his bed, your head cradled to his chest. Harry was always the perfect cure to cramps.

//

“Oh…hello.” A girl says to you some random Wednesday morning. You were stood in your kitchen making some toast before class.

“Um, hi?”

“Oh, god, he has a girlfriend doesn’t he.” She whines.

“No! I’m Harry’s roommate. Did you spend the night, would you like some coffee?”

“Got scared for a second there. No, I’m all set thank you. Um, have a good one!” She says and leaves the flat.

“Is…is she gone?” Harry whispers from around the corner and you chuckle.

“Yes, Harry.”

“Thank god.” He sighs.

“Since when do you bring someone home with you on a Tuesday night?”

“I was working late at the coffee shop, and she was there doing homework, and one thing lead to another.” He pours himself a cup of coffee.

“And it was no good?”

“Terrible, I didn’t even ask for her number.”

“What made it so terrible?”

“She just…she wasn’t…doing it for me, I don’t know. There was no connection, Y/N.” He sighs.

“Maybe it’s time you start actually dating and work your way up to fucking someone.”

“That would involve me having to get to know someone, and I can’t stand people.” He pouts.

“Good thing you’re going to be a fucking teacher then.” You laugh. “Hurry up and get ready, or we’ll be late for class.”

Harry gets ready, and you both walk to campus for your K-12 instructors class. You were thankful to have class with Harry, you weren’t sure what you’d do without him. Just having someone to make eye contact with when someone said something stupid, or if the professor did something cringey.

“Hey, Y/N?”

“Hey, Daniel.” You smile up at him. “What’s up?”

“Well, I…I was wondering if you had plans this weekend? On Saturday?”

You look at Harry and he shakes his head no.

“Not that I can think of, no.”

“Great, uh, would you like to go to the movies? We could grab dinner as well.”

“I…I’d like that a lot, um, here.” You take your phone out to hand it to him. He puts his number and texts himself.

“Cool, I’ll text you later.” He moves to go sit down a few rows behind you. You look at Harry with a grin on your face.

“See, dating, it’s sorta fun.” You say to him.

“Wining and dining someone sure is a lot of effort. Don’t think I quite have it in me, but you have yourself a good time, pet.”

//

You have a wonderful time with Daniel on Saturday night. He took you to Panera, and then to see a comedy. He let you pick the movie, and you were delighted. You shared a lot of laughs, and made out with him in his car before he took you home.

“I ha d a lot of fun.” You tell him.

“Me too.” He says. “Maybe we could do this again sometime?”

“I’d like that.” You smile and get out of his car. When you get up to your flat, you can’t wait to dish with Harry about how your night went.

“Hola chica.” He says to you from the kitchen.

“Late night tacvos, my favorite. Save me any?”

“Course, grab what you like. How was your date?”

“Really good. Daniel’s super sweet.”

“Not sweet enough to bring home?”

“I’m taking my own advice and giving dating a try. He asked me if I wanted to go out again sometime and I said yes. We did kiss for a bit, it was nice.” You shove a taco into your mouth. “Mm, you make the best tacos, Har.”

“Don’t I know it? So…so you kissed, but nothing else?” He mutters as he finishes his food.

“Nope.”

“Did you want to?”

“I don’t know.” You shrug.

“Then you shouldn’t go out with him again.”

“What are you talking about?”

“If you didn’t wanna rip his clothes off, it’s probably not gonna last.”

“Lust doesn’t make a relationship.”

“No, but it should be passionate. Even if you’re respectful and wait, you should still wanna fuck the person.”

“Sometimes you have to work up to feeling that way.”

“Nah, when you know, you know.” He winks at you and goes over to the couch. “I was about to watch-“

“Oh my god!” You screech.

“What?!”

“Did you not check the mail earlier?! Kevin and Ashley are getting married! This is their save the date. Holy fucking shit.”

“Makes sense, they’ve been together forever.”

“Well, we have to go, Harry.”

“Okay.” He hears you suck your teeth. “What?”

“No plus ones…”

“So? We’d just go together anyways. We can save money on a hotel room too.”

“That’s true. I just…wow, I couldn’t imagine getting married right now.”

“Like I said, when you know, you know.” He plops down onto the couch and turns the TV on. You sit down next to him. You look at him for a moment, and then turn your attention to the TV. Nothing else really needed to be said.

//

You hated it when Harry was right. Daniel was nice, but there was no spark. You went on four dates with him, and you didn’t want to fuck him.

“Hey, I was looking on the hotel website for the wedding, the room with the king sized bed is actually cheaper than the one with the two queens. That work for you?” He asks you as he comes into your room holding his laptop.

“Yeah, that’s fine. Just tell me how much I need to Venmo you.”

“Will do, it’s not terribly expensive. I’ll only need a hundred bucks from you.”

“Perfect.” You take your phone and send him the money. “Thanks for booking it.”

“No problemo.” He comes in and sits on your bed. “What are you up to, babydoll?”

“Just putting some mock lesson plans together.” You sigh. “Could definitely use a break, though.” He lays down on your bed and pats the spot next to him. You roll your eyes at him, and he pouts. “Ugh, fine.” You get onto your bed with him. “Happy now?”

“Very…although….”

“What?”

“Well, you get to lay your head on my chest all the time. I’d like to do the same. Or…okay, there’s this trend on Tik Tok…could I lay down between your legs?”

“Um…like…with your head in my crotch?” You laugh. “I can put a pillow there and you can lay down if you like.”

“Okay.” You grab a pillow for him, and he gets on his back, resting his head, and looking up at you. You run your fingers through his curls and his eyes flutter closed. “I love it when you play with my hair.” He sighs.

“I knew you were coming in here with a motive. Booking the hotel room to get something out of it, huh?”

“Your nails just feel so good, and you know it.”

“Well, you better return the favor. I like getting my hair played with too.”

“I’ll touch you wherever you want me to, alright?” He yawns. “Just don’t stop for a bit.”

You brush off his crude comment, and does as he says. You liked playing with Harry’s hair, so it wasn’t a burden, and you liked when you two would just get cozy together like this. There weren’t many people you felt this comfortable with.

//

“Y/N, we need to get going down to the ceremony.” Harry calls from the bedroom of the hotel.

“Well, I wouldn’t be running behind if someone hadn’t taken twice as long as they said they would in the bathroom!”

“Can’t rush perfection, darling.” He smirks to himself.

“Mhm, so what does that make me?” You ask as you walk out of the bathroom. His mouth nearly falls open.

You had gotten your hair into a loose, low bun, with plenty of hair in the front to frame your face. You had a strapless purple dress on with black tights and black heels.

“Um…stunning, you look stunning.”

“Thanks.” You smile and grab your clutch. “You don’t look too bad yourself.” You wink at him and head out.

You both were blubbering messes during the ceremony. Rachel made sure to make fun you both for it. Once the cocktail hour hit, you were good to go. You found your table and sat down. You talked with some other friends and explained how grad school was going. You make it through the speeches and dinner, and then it’s time to dance.

Being at something like this reminded you of being at an old uni party, only more upscale. Ashley and Kevin’s families were around, so the music wasn’t exactly what you’d normally get down to, but there was an open bar that you were able to take advantage of. Partying with Harry was one of your favorite things. He always used to bring you to the best ones. A slow song starts to play, and you giggle as he bows and extends his hand to you.

“You’re an idiot.” You say as you take his hand and he pulls you close to him.

“Ah, but you’re still choosing to dance with me, babe.”

“Only cause I’m too lazy to find someone else.”

“Ha! That’ll be us someday reading vows at our won wedding. I was too lazy to find someone else, so I settled for my best friend.” He smirks at you and swat his shoulder.

“Would you be quiet? Enough of the people here think something’s going on between us as it is.”

“True.” He looks around at a few people’s wandering eyes. “Should we give them a bit of a show?” He slides his hands further down your back, getting dangerously close to your bum.

“Harry!” You squeal and giggle. “Stop it.” You grab his hands put them to their previous spot. “Just dance with me, would you?”

He chuckles and sways around with you. You both got pretty plastered. You couldn’t stop giggling with him all the way up to your room. You sigh once you get your heels off.

“Okay, I’m using the bathroom first.” You say to him.

“Fine.” He sighs and starts unbuttoning his dress shirt.

You head into the bathroom, and use the toilet. You get your tights all the way off and groan when you can’t reach the zipper on the back of your dress.

“Ugh, Harry!” You call for him. “I need your help!”

“Yeah?” He says, stepping into the bathroom in only his boxers. Nothing you hadn’t seen before.

“My zipper.”

“Oh.” He places a hand on your shoulder, and the other grips the zipper, slowly dragging it down. You clutch the front of it. “You’re not…uh…no bra?”

“No, there’s one built into the dress.” You turn around to face him. “I just need to grab my pj’s and then I’ll need a couple minutes to take my hair out.” You brush by him to go into your suitcase. He takes the opportunity to use the toilet and brush his teeth.

“Need help with anything else?” He asks as you step back into the bathroom.

“Nope, think I can handle the rest, thanks.” You giggle. “Wouldn’t mind some head scratches once I get into bed though.”

Harry gets into bed and waits for you. You come out with your hair a mess, your makeup smeared from rinsing it, and he furrows his brows at you.

“That’s my shirt.” He says as you knee onto the bed.

“Mhm, well, that’s what happens when you ask me to do your laundry for you. I steal your shirts as compensation.”

“Fair enough I suppose. Come here.”

You smile and lay on his chest so he can run his fingers through your hair. You moan softly from it as you relax into him.

“Feels so nice.” You mumble into his chest.

“I can tell.” One of his hands moves to rub your back. He mimics your moaning and you punch him in the arm. “Oi! I won’t love on you if you do that.”

“M’not asking you to love on me, I just wanted me head scratched. Be grateful you get to hear me make those noises, not everyone does.”

“Bet you’d make thousands if you posted something like that on your Only Fans.” He mutters and you move to look at him. “What?”

“Do you…ever look at my page?”

“Sometimes.”

“Why?”

“Sometimes I check your comments to see if anyone’s being rude.”

“Oh…” You swallow. “I make enough doing what I’m doing. I…I’d be too shy to do the really explicate stuff. I also just feel, like, I don’t want just anyone to see me naked, you know? That’s why I don’t go live, everyone would just ask me to take my clothes off.”

“I get that. Wanna keep it private for someone special.”

“Exactly. I mean, I’ve talked about this with you before, but there are plenty of people that are into what I post.”

“You certainly leave them wanting more.”

“You’ve…watched?”

“I’ve checked out some of the free videos you’ve posted, yeah.” He admits shamelessly. “You’re a very good dancer.” He smiles at you.

“I’m going to sleep.” You yawn and turn over. “Goodnight.” You look over your shoulder at him. “If you behave you can spoon me if you want.”

“What do you think I’m gonna do? Slide my prick between your ass cheeks? Grow up.” He says as he wraps his arm around you. You can’t help but laugh. “However, if I get hard while I’m sleeping you can’t get mad.”

“Suppose it’s not my fault I have such a fat, juicy ass, hm?”

“Go to sleep.” He laughs, and presses his chest to your back.

“Mm, you’re so cozy, Harry.”

“I know I am. Go to sleep, lovie.” He coos, and rubs at your side.

“Love you.”

“Love you too.” He sighs and nestles into the back of your head.

//

“So…you let him spoon you all night, and nothing happened?” Rachel whispers to you at breakfast the next morning.

“Happens more often than not, it’s not a big deal.”

“You two are so fucking weird! I’ve literally never met two people who were close that do what you do. Why not just make the jump? Neither one of you can manage to make another relationship work.”

“I don’t know…I…I just don’t see him like that, and I know Harry. If he really liked me like that he’d go for it.”

“Maybe he’s just scared to fuck it up with you.”

“Exactly, so, let’s just not fuck it up and try anything.”

“What are you two hens clucking about, hm?” Harry says as he sits down, putting a cinnamon roll in front of you. “Had you favorite.”

“I’m trying to watch the carbs…” You mutter.

“Please.” He scoffs. “Would you just eat the fucking pastry? It’s good for you.”

“How is that thing good for me?” You laugh.

“It makes you happy when you eat it. You always hum and smile when you eat a cinnamon roll.”

“How sweet of you to notice.” Rachel remarks. “You’re practically her boyfriend.”

“Rachel.” You seethe, and take a bite of the pastry. You hum softly. “Why do these bloody things taste so good, huh?”

Harry chuckles and rubs the back of your neck briefly as he eats his own breakfast. He and Rachel share a glance, but that’s the extent of that interaction.

//

“Hey, Harry?” You tap on the outside of his door frame.

“Yeah, babe?” He says, taking his headphones out. It was a Friday evening and you both were doing homework. His eyes widen when he looks at you. “Your face is all flushed, are you alright?”

“Y-yeah, I just…could you come look at something for me?”

“Sure.” He follows you to your room and sits with you on your bed.

“Um...could I…could I show you some new photos I took yesterday? I just finished editing them…and I’m feeling a little self-conscious.”

“Aw, why? You’re so beautiful.” He keeps your cheek and rubs his thumb along your cheekbone. “Course I’ll look ‘em over for you.”

“Thanks.” You swallow and put your laptop on his lap. “So…like usual, they’re not overly explicit, but I feel like my boobs look weird. I should have gotten something with more support.” You blush and point to the photo.

“They’re perfect, you look perfect, Y/N.” You suck your teeth at him. “You do! What else do you want me to say?”

“Okay, what about this one?”

“Perfect.”

“This one?”

“Perfect.”

“But what about this one?”

“Perfect, they’re all perfect. I don’t know why you don’t think so.” He frowns and sets your laptop down on your desk. He turns to look at you. “What’s really going on?”

“It’s just…I have all these people leaving comments saying they wish they could know me, date, fuck me…and…like I don’t know any of them! All they know about me is that I can dance, and I look cute sucking on a lollypop. I…if I wasn’t making the money I that I am I’d stop doing it because I just want someone real to say all of those things to me, you know?”

“Y/N…” Harry sighs. “I know you, I wanna date you, and I certainly want to fuck you.”

“Wh-what?”

“I know, it’s so cliché it’s disgusting, isn’t it?” He smirks. “But it’s how I feel. I’m sick of tip toeing around it.”

“How long have you felt this way?”

“Can’t really pinpoint it, I don’t think it’s been long, but it doesn’t feel new either.”

Your eyes well up with tears, and he puts his hand back on your cheek. You lean into it. You felt deeply confused.

“I just never thought we’d…like…I just didn’t think you were into my like that.”

“Well, I am, so…what do you think? We already get along great. We like spending time together. I truthfully can’t stand other people. I think you’re the only person’s day I actually like hearing about. Have you really never thought about it?”

“I don’t know! You never made a move when we were in undergrad, with all those nights we slept next to each other, you never did anything…”

“Yeah, because you were asleep, Y/N.” He deadpans. “What did you want me to do? Feel you up while you were unconscious? Or better yet, make a move while we were both intoxicated?”

“No, of course not.” You shake your head. “I…I don’t know what I wanted. I just felt lucky that I had such a good friend.”

“Yeah, me too.” He sighs. “Look, it’s okay if you don’t feel the same way, this doesn’t need to be weird. Just know if you wanted to give it a try, I’d be down.”

“You’re genuinely attracted to me, like, physically?”

“Yes.” He chuckles. “And I like what you got going on up here too.” He taps your forehead with his index finger. “But you knew that already. What about me, are you physically attracted to me?”

“Well…yeah, you know you’re hot.”

“I didn’t ask you what I know.” He smirks.

“Okay, yeah, I’ve always thought you were handsome, but you used to really be a douchebag, it turned me off. Made it easier to just be your friend.” You smirk at him and he rolls his eyes.

“M’not like that anymore.” He inches closer to you. You could feel his minty breath fanning over you.

“I know.” You say just above a whisper. The mood had changed immensely. The dim lighting in your room was creating an atmosphere you had never really felt with him before.

“So…I guess the only thing left to figure out is if there’s any real heat between us.” You nod at him as his hand goes back to cradle your cheek once more. “Can I kiss you, Y/N?”

“Yes.”

You move towards each other slowly, your lips gracefully pressing against each other’s. You felt scared as your eyes pinched closed. It was scary to kiss your best friend, and what was scarier was that fact that it felt so natural and seamless. He pulls away, just to see if you’ll chase him, and you do, kissing him again. You do the same to him, and he comes chasing after your soft lips.

“Harry.” You whisper as you press your forehead to his.

“Yeah?” He whispers back.

“I…I wanna have sex with you.”

“Right now?”

“Right now.”

He cups both of your cheeks and pulls your lips back to his. His tongue peeks out to swipe along your bottom lip. He runs his lips back and forth over yours, and you open up for him. Your tongues meet, and you lick against each other, eliciting a moan from the both of you. You tug at the hem of his shirt, and he lets you lift it off. Your run your hands up and down his stomach as you continue to explore each other’s mouths, lips getting puffy and swollen. He sucks your bottom lip into his mouth while he unzips the sweatshirt you’re wearing. He pushes it off your shoulders, and you shimmy it the rest of the way off. He’s met with your bare breasts, and he licks his lips as he looks at them.

Harry pulls you closer to him, and his lips press against your neck. You cling to his biceps as he works his mouth down your chest. He looks up at you as he sucks on one of your nipples, rolling it between your teeth. You can’t help your head from falling back. He slides down to the floor as he continues to kiss on you. Your mouth falls open as he nips and sucks on your stomach, and his fingers hook into your leggings. He looks up at you and you nod. He tugs your leggings and underwear down your legs and gets them all the way off.

“Y/N, you’re sure?”

“Yes, I want you to, please.”

You open your legs for him, and he just about loses it from your confidence. He leans forward and kisses each of your hips. You think he’s about to go for your center, but he sucks on your inner thigh. You flinch from the sensitivity, but it feels good. You make sure to sit up on your elbows so you can watch him. He looks up at you and licks a flat stripe between your folds. He sucks on each of your lips before spreading you apart with his thumbs to focus on your clit. He sucks on it at first, harshly, and you gasp. He uses the tip of his tongue to flick back and forth against it. He runs his hands along your thighs to keep you open for him. You were clenching around nothing. His tongue was warm and wet, and everything you needed.

Your body starts to feel warm all over, you can feel your orgasm start to bubble up from within your lower belly. You let yourself fall back against the bed as you start to pant. Your voice cracks as louder moans begin to rip through your throat. He was sucking and slurping on your cunt, noises you had never heard before while someone was going down on you. And to really push you over the edge, he was moaning into you. Not little whimpers or grunts, genuine moans that were vibrating into you.

“Oh my god!” You cry out. A few tears roll down your cheeks as he continues to lap around you, helping you come down.

He kisses back up your body until he’s hovering over you. He smears his lips over yours, and you grunt, pulling him closer to you. It was the filthiest kiss of your life, completely tasting yourself on him, but you didn’t care. He just made you feel better than anyone ever did. You push him so he’ll on his back, and this time you’re the one to sink onto the floor. You get his jeans and boxers down his legs. Your eyes bug out when you see his large prick slap back against his stomach.

“Christ, Harry.”

“As if you didn’t already know.” He smirks.

“I mean, I had an idea.”

You spit into your hand and wrap it around his length. He grits his teeth as you start to slowly pump him up and down. You run his tip along your lips, and his mouth falls open. Your tongue presses over his slit and you wrap your lips around him. You suckle his tip, eliciting a moan from him. You hollow your cheeks and sink almost all the way down on him. You just wanted to feel him down your throat. You breathe your nose and just hold him there.

“Y/N.” He stutters.

You slowly pull off of him, a string of spit keeping you connected. You suck in a breath before sinking back down on him, not quite as much as you took before, and you bob up and down his length. You cup his balls and massage them as you make a mess of his prick. There was spit, drool, and precome dripping down your chin. Harry was a panting mess on the bed. His hands were gripping at the sheets, and the sight of him doing that causes you to moan. To see his veins popping out the way they were was enough to make you come again.

“Y/N, fuck, I’m gonna come.”

You moan around him as his come spurts into your mouth. You swallow it all and suck him dry. He pulls you up to him, dumbfounded that you just did what you did.

“I thought you wanted me to fuck you.” He breathes.

“I do, I’ve heard you have pretty good stamina.” You peck his lips. “I’m sure you’ll get hard again soon.”

He groans and shifts his thighs between your legs, making you gasp. He grips your hips and starts moving you back and forth along his tiger tattoo. Your nails dig into his chest as you work to grind against him.

“H-Harry.” You mewl.

“Yeah, ride my fucking leg, baby, show me how you do it.”

“God.”

“I want you so bad, I wanna fuck you so bad, Y/N.”

“Oh, oh!” You come undone on his thigh. You lean down and press your lips to his, licking into his mouth. Before you know it he’s moving you up his body, turning you around, and licking back into your cunt. “Shit!”

He’s relentless with you, fucking you with his tongue, telling you to bounce up and down on him, and you listen. He sucks on your clit again, and you fall forward, head resting on his thigh. You watch as his cock bloats back up. You’d never know someone to enjoy doing this so much. You kiss on his thigh because you just needed to do something with your mouth. He makes you come again, and he lifts you off of his face.

“Think you can keep going?” He smirks as your head falls back against your pillows.

He grabs your legs and pushes them back so your knees press against the bed. He lifts your bum enough to rest on his thighs, and he dips his tongue back into your cunt. This was some serious teasing. You watch as his tongue goes in and out of you, deeper each time. He reaches forward with one of his hands to rub your clit. It was throbbing for him.

“Harry, please.”

“What, no good?”

“No, it’s amazing, but…I really wanna feel your dick now, please, I know you’re hard again.”

“You just taste so good.” He brings his mouth down to your cunt and sucks on it.

“This won’t be the only time I’ll let your head between my legs, I promise.” You let your legs drop back to lay normally. He sits back as you look at each other. “When was the last time you were tested? I…I’m clean, and if you are too, I’d prefer not to use a condom if you feel comfortable with that.”

“STD test came back negative a month ago when I went in for a checkup. You’re on the pill?”

“Yeah.”

He leans down to kiss you, and then he pulls back to paint his cock with your wetness that was uncontrollably leaking out of you for him. He presses his tip against your clit, and slides it down your slit. He pushes inside you slowly. He fills you to the hilt, and waits. For a moment he just wants to enjoy how tight and snug you are around him. You push your hips up and start rocking against him.

“Jesus, Y/N, you’re so fucking perfect.”

“Because I’m moving myself on you?” You giggle.

“I just think it’s cute that you’re so goddamn impatient.”

“Would you just shut up and show what you can do with this thing? Or am I gonna have to do all of this myself?”

He accepts the challenge, pulling his hips back, and snapping them forward. You reach behind yourself to press against the headboard so your head doesn’t smack against it. He drives it into you fast and deep. He pushes you to the brink of coming, but he pulls all the way out of you. Before you can complain he flips you over, and grabs your hips. He pulls you back to him and slips back inside. You moan out from the new angle, and the sound of his skin slapping against yours makes your eyes roll back. He gives your bum a light smack and you grunt.

“You can do that a little harder, a little.” You didn’t want him to fully spank you, you weren’t into that sort of thing, but you didn’t mind feeling it a little more. He delivers a harsher smack and you groan again.

“You have the best ass I’ve ever seen.” He smacks you again and you grip onto the pillows. He grips the back of your neck to get a steadier pace going, and he uses his other hand to rub your clit.

“Fuck, Harry. You’re so attentive.” You manage to say. You felt like you could barely breathe.

“I’m gonna ruin you for any other guy.”

“Don’t want any other guy.” You admit. “I don’t want anyone else to fuck me.”

“Christ.” He moans.

His fingers move faster on your clit, and his tip pounds against your g-spot, and you’re coming. You’re coming hard around him. He pulls out and sits up against the headboard. You look up at him, completely frazzled.

“I want you ride me.”

“Okay.” You breathe. You shuffle around and swing your leg over him. You line him up with yourself and sink down on him.

He fondles your breasts as you move up and down on him. He kisses on your chest as you get a rhythm going. He leans back just to watch your tits bounce up and down. He looks up at you and grips you by the back of your neck to pull your mouth down to his. You breathe each other in and out as you moan and gasp. He takes control by gripping your hips, and you cling to him to let him just do what he wanted with you. You tighten around him and his head falls back for a moment.

“Where can I come?” He asks.

“Where do you want to come?”

“Inside you.”

“Okay.”

“You’re okay with that?”

“Yes.”

“You’re gonna be the death of me.” He grunts.

You cry out as he does when he comes. You don’t think you had ever felt so full in your life. He kisses you as you both catch your breaths. You tug at his hair, and grind against him. You were close to coming again. He takes the hint and snakes his hand between you both and rubs your clit. Your orgasm rips through you, and you moan into his neck.

“I’m so fucking sweaty.” You whisper.

“Do you wanna take a shower?”

“Yeah.” You look up at him. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course.”

“Do I still have legs? Because I can’t feel them.”

He puffs out some air as he laughs, smoothing some hair away from your face.

“Yes, you still have legs, Y/N. Should I carry you to the bathroom?”

“Please, I really need to pee.”

He kisses your forehead and slowly lifts you off of him. You clench so nothing falls out. You didn’t want to make a bigger mess of your bed.

“We can sleep in my room and wash your sheets tomorrow, don’t worry about that.” He says as he carries you bridal style to the bathroom.

He sets you down on the toilet and steps out to give you some privacy. Once he hears the water for the shower start he comes back in. He splays a hand on your back and gives you a gentle rub before you both step in. You felt overwhelmed. You just had the best sex of your life with your very best friend. As he reaches for his body wash you swat his hand. He raises an eyebrow at you.

“Would you…would you just hold me?” Your bottom lip quivers, and he pulls you into his chest.

You nestle into him, and just stand under the warm water with him. He cradles your head and lets you cry into him. He starts to cry too, although he’s not really sure why.

“I don’t want anything to get fucked up between us, Harry.” You look up at him, tears streaming down your cheeks. “I love you so much, and I don’t want something bad to happen that’ll make us hate each other.”

“M’not gonna let that happen.” He wipes your tears away, and then wipes away his own. “We’re gonna do this right. We’ll go out on dates, and we’ll see where it goes, and I hope it goes well because I love you too, and I value so many of the things we have with each other.”

You each take turns scrubbing each other down, getting clean. It’s soothing, and calming. You both relax, and get wrapped up into some towels. You run the blow dryer through your hair quickly just so it’s not sopping wet. He gives you one of his bed shirts to wear, and you crawl into bed with him. Being immersed in his scent was exactly what you needed. You rest your head on his chest, and he throws his arm around you.

“When was the last time you actually dated someone?” You ask softly.

“Um…think I was sixteen to be honest with you.”

“Ah, so a while.” You chuckle.

“You literally know my entire sexual history, and I know yours, let’s not pretend we’re both experts with all this.”

“So…we’ll just make this up as we go? I mean, I like that we sleep together sometimes, but I wanna keep my room, I don’t wanna move into the same room.”

“Christ, slow down, we just got together and you’re already talking about moving into the same bedroom?” You swat at his chest and he laughs, kissing the top of your head. “In all seriousness, I feel the same way, I think we should still have our separate spaces. You get pissed off with me easily.”

“Maybe you should try not to piss me off then.”

“Well, now that I know you enjoy a good tonguing, I’m not really worried about it. God, we can make up from a fight with sex instead of watching Dirty Dancing, it’s gonna be incredible.”

“Can…can we not do both?” You look up at him. “I love singing Hungry Eyes with you.”

“Yeah, both is good.”

“And I wanna make sure we clarify what are dates, and what’s just hanging out. I want dates to feel…special, I don’t know.”

“Can do. I think study dates at the library are gonna be my favorite.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because I can rile you up. I’ll sit across from you to play footsie, and then I’ll run my foot up your leg. I’ll make eyes at you. You’ll end up blowing me in the bathroom, it’ll be great.”

“Mm, yes, well, what if my leg’s the one doing the rubbing? I could probably make you come in your pants from my foot on your crotch alone.”

“Okay, no study dates. You know what I would really like, though?”

“What?”

“Sometimes…sometimes I really miss you when I work double shifts at work, and then I feel bad because you’re here all by yourself…so maybe you could come to the coffee shop more? Hang out, do homework, I’ll give you free food.”

“Sounds like a sweet deal to me.” You bite your bottom lip. “You’re not gonna ask me to give up my Only Fans are you?”

“What? No, why would you even think that?”

“I don’t know…you’re the jealous type, Harry.”

“True…but if that’s what you wanna do for work, I don’t have a problem with it. Can I tell you a dirty secret?”

“Always.”

“I’m subscribed to your page.”

“You are?!”

“Yeah…I’ve never wanked to your stuff because I feel like that would be creepy, but I do keep up with what you post.”

“I’m not gonna do it forever, once I get a real job I won’t need it…”

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me, babe. Even if you were doing the really filthy stuff, I wouldn’t care. That’s your business.”

“God, if I wasn’t so tired I’d hop on your dick again.”

He chuckles at that and gives your shoulder a squeeze.

“Any other questions?”

“I don’t think so. Although, I’m not looking forward to telling Rachel. The it’s about time or I told you so is not gonna be fun.”

“Same with Niall and Louis. We just gotta rip the band aid.”

You hum your response and get a little cozier by putting one of your legs over his. It was easy enough to fall asleep. You talked, so you weren’t worried about your friendship ending. If anything, it was all going to get better. Being able to kiss and touch on top of how you were with each other already was just the cherry on top. It didn’t happen over drinks, it didn’t happen in a club, and it didn’t happen by mistake. This was on purpose. He was the person you were supposed to be with, and he felt the same way.

[wandering-travesty]

Off To The Races

 Zeke’s life wasn’t supposed to be like this. His father would have a spontaneous brain aneurism if he saw the daily goings on of the younger Yeager’s household on his days off. Horrid amounts of smoking outside, snow or shine, day-drinking without a second thought, and lonely, not by choice. He had honest-to-god tried to live the life his father wanted for him. He married a woman straight out of law school and knocked her up a few months after. They raised that kid for a year then repeated the process. They lived, laughed, and loved for a few years, then, as a surprise to no one, the divorce came along. His wife had run off with a lump sum of money and started a new life out of state. He got left with two kids, substance abuse issues, and a law firm to run. He was stressed, depressed, and by the holiest powers above, was he horny. 

 Ignoring the horniness for a moment, everything changed when you came around. Every inch of his world brightened, almost like a light at the end of a tunnel. You gave him some form of hope, and reminded him that life wasn’t all doom and gloom. You were still in college, looking for some extra funds to help pay your tuition; a lawyer that doubled as a father of two was the perfect target. You had shown up in your prettiest outfit, almost as if you were showing off for him. Being the kind of man he was, Zeke couldn’t help but hire you. Some sweet, fetching little thing coming up to his decadent doorstep in a tiny little tennis skirt and begging to take care of his kids? That was something he could never turn away. 

 So, you became the official caretaker of Zeke’s little angels. You truly adored looking after them while their, admittedly handsome, father slaved away at his big, important law firm. You rang the doorbell right as the kids were waking up, Zeke greeting you at the door already dressed in one of his repulsively expensive suits. You talked over scones and coffee and made the kids just about anything they wanted. He would leave, and you would get the kids dressed and out the door with ample time to catch the bus. You’d clean the house, make yourself some lunch, play with the family dog. The golden retriever was just another cliche. But you still loved the mutt, especially since every family member loved him, too. You could tell because Zeke had named him after some long-dead baseball player, meaning he would be enamoured with the thing no matter what.  

 It was fun, picking up on little details about Zeke, or Mr. Yeager, as you called him. He loved baseball and would talk about it for hours on end if you let him, and he hated strawberry icecream for some unexplained reason. He was the face of success for his entire life, from being a star pitcher on his little league team back home to captain of the debate team in high school; he had never really failed at anything or gotten robbed of what he wanted. He was a winner in everything he had ever tried. He had mentioned how high-strung his parents were, and how they’d gone through a divorce of their own when he was young. He and his step-brother never got along that well, and had actually turned out to be very different people. His family life was anything but smooth, and he feared his kids would look back on their childhood in the same light. You guessed that’s why tonight was happening. 

 “Alright, I’m entrusting my children, dog, house, and painfully expensive belongings to you for the night.” He was dressed to the nines, hell, the tens. He wore an umber sport coat, mustard turtleneck sweater, a thick black belt, grey slacks, chestnut oxfords, and the most expensive golden watch you had ever seen. His flaxen hair shined perfectly in the low light of the entranceway; it was official: you wanted to fuck him. Rather, you wanted him to fuck you. You wanted him to fuck you stupid and make you squirt all over that pretty watch, and his even prettier face. 

 “I’ve got it covered, Mr. Yeager.” His youngest son wrapped his arms around your legs as the dog rubbed his head into your palm. “Knock ‘er dead!” You gave him your cheesiest smile and thumbs up. He chuckled at you as his eldest son grabbed your free hand. 

 “You’ve got this, Dad!” He cheered, starting to drag you to the living room. 

 “Thank you, Atticus. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He gave a weak smile, turning to leave through the large oak door. It was awful, how badly he wanted to stay there with you and the kids. He wanted to chase Atticus down the hall as the rest of you ran after him, laughing all the way. He wanted to put on some old, boring movie only he wanted to watch and feel your breath on his neck as you fell asleep just after the kids and dog sitting on the floor below you. He wanted to feel your warmth in his bed. He wanted to see what you looked like backed up against a wall. Heaving after an especially passionate kiss. With your legs over your head, screaming his name. The sweat dripping down your face as you came undone beneath him. The little whimpers you’d make as he pulled out of you and cradled you in his arms. He wanted you, not this random woman off of some shitty dating site. He didn’t really want the booze, or the men, or the women, or the money, or the white picket fence, or his father’s approval; he just wanted - no - he needed you. Your game of cat and mouse, seeing which playful “sweetheart” or coy little “Mr. Yeager” would be the one to tip you over the edge of more than friends.  

 “Zeke? That’s you, right?” The tall blonde woman in a sleek black suit walked towards him with an outstretched hand. She could’ve easily been a full foot taller than him. Interesting.

 “Yes. Yelena, correct?” But she wasn’t you. He just wanted to get this night of false wining and dining over with so he could come home to you. You in his big, expensive house. Better yet, his big, expensive bed.

 - 

 You sat and watched the clock after the kids went to bed. It ticked and tocked, back and forth, over and over. It had been about an hour since you’d put them down for the night. You couldn’t wait for Zeke to get home for much longer. Butterflies buzzed through your stomach when you heard the doorbell ring.

 “Mr. Yeager?” You opened the door to the sight of your employer with his shirt halfway unbuttoned, glasses falling off his face, and hair an absolute bird’s nest. 

 “Hey, beautiful.” He purred, slumping onto your shoulder, trying and failing to be smooth. “What’s a pretty thing like you doing in my house, huh?” He looked up at you over the rim of his glasses. The way his eyes glimmered a dark shade of teal lit your entire body on fire. Feeling his full weight on top of you only made it spread farther.

 “Babysitting your kids, for starters.” You maneuvered your bodies to have his arm wrapped around your shoulder as you dragged him back into the house. “Apparently I’ll be babysitting you, too.” You mumbled, just then realizing exactly how muscular he was. You sat him down on the leather couch and started to walk to the kitchen to get him a glass of water. You didn’t have much experience with alcohol, but you believed water helped with it somehow.

 “Damn. Loving the view from back here, gorgeous.” He leaned forwards with his elbows on his knees, licking his chapped lips. You jumped at the sudden compliment. You couldn’t remember him being so…dirty before. You walked a little faster than you already were, wanting to get away from him before you made a stupid decision. You poured a tall glass of water, walking back to the couch where Zeke was now lounging, legs spread far enough to leave barely anything to the imagination.  

 “Hey there, doll. Got somethin’ for me?” He giggled, lowering his head from where he had been resting it. His eyes were something to behold, and the deep rooted confidence and downright cockiness behind them only served to make you shiver. You shuffled closer, a bit skittish at the sight of the beast before you. 

 “It’s just water.” You sat down on the table in front of him. “It’s supposed to help with your metabolism, I think.” Your voice was a higher pitch than usual, feeling an odd pressure in your throat every time you spoke.

 “What a smart little thing you are.” He praised. It felt genuine, and you started to feel hotter. You handed him the glass, trying your best to avoid eye contact. He took the glass, and almost as if he had sensed your intentions, took your chin between his fingers and forced you to look into his deep, ocean eyes. He leaned back a bit, giving you a better view of his exposed chest. There was a light layer of golden hair overtop of his expansive chest, and it seemed to trail down the rest of his body. You wanted to find out if that was true. Still holding eye contact with you, he tipped the glass and send the water spilling down his shirt. You knew that wasn’t just drunken clumsiness, but a calculated measure to get in your pants.

 “Whoops.” He said, eyes cold and emotionless as his words. “You better clean that up, sweetheart. We both know I can’t take care of myself in this state.” You moved closer to him, hands unsure of where they were going. You were shaking a bit, and you didn't have a towel on you. You decided the best course of action was to unbutton his shirt the rest of the way. You felt down his chest, gently tugging on his nipples. He let out a soft groan as you continued to feel him up. 

 “You’re gettin’ a little handsy there, baby. You want something from me?” He pet your hair as you moved further down on his chest. You kissed and gave kitten licks, appreciating every inch and curve of his muscular form. You couldn’t get enough of him, try as you might.

 “I fuckin’ knew it.” He pulled you by your hair to force you to look at him.

 “Filthy little harlot.” He squeezed you cheeks, forcing your mouth open. You looked confused until you felt a glob of spit hit your tongue. You swallowed like it was second nature. 

 “You’re just here for my dick, huh?” You continued to kiss and lick down his abdomen, savoring every ounce of him you could; the smell of cinnamon, menthol, and saltwater hit your nose, intoxicating you further and further the more you breathed him in. “I bet it’s all you think about. Especially when those fingers rub that pretty little cunt until you cum all over yourself.” You let out a whine, signifying exactly how right he was.

 “Yeah.” You dragged your tongue up his six-pack, savoring the slightly salty taste. “Think about you every night.” You licked a stripe down the same line you had just gone up. “Only way I can get to sleep.” He smiled the warmest smile you had ever seen him produce. Such a sweet little thing for him, getting off to thoughts of him railing you silly in order to have a good night’s rest. Your submissive, horny mind was so focused on him you couldn’t get to bed without him. You were perfection in human form. Truly a goddess sent from above. He would worship you in the most degrading way possible.

 “I knew you were dirty, I just needed to force you to show me.” He continued to pet your hair like you were some kind of beloved family pet. You felt so small under his touch; so fragile, as if one touch could blow you away forever. You loved the feeling more than life itself. You felt like you could never live without it again. Touching yourself while thinking about him wouldn’t do the trick; not after you had felt the real thing.

 “That’s it, honey, kiss me like you mean it.” He teased, knowing exactly what was running through your head. Sure, he was no master of seduction, but he had bedded plenty before, and he knew exactly how talented he was. He had learned from years of experience; years you hadn’t yet lived. You would learn it all from him. Those little college boys he could smell on you every so often wouldn’t cut it anymore. He was meant for you, and you for him. He knew he already had you trapped, but playing with you was so fun. Poking and prodding and mocking you all while you worshiped him like he had hung the moon in the sky.

 “You love this body, don’t you, slut?” He pulled your hair suddenly, earning a yelp that went straight to his aching cock. “You know, I’ve only been keeping in shape for you. I knew from the moment you saw me that was the main appeal, and lord knows I’d go through hell to keep you around.” That was true. He knew others would settle for mediocrity, but a flawless little angel like you deserved better than mediocre. You needed someone to match your talent, beauty, and wit. He didn’t believe he equaled you in anything but maybe wits, but still, he was good for you. At least, you seemed to think so, considering you were giving tiny kitten licks to the tip of his recently freed dick. The tip was red, swollen, and leaking a sinful amount of precum. You sucked it all up, taking the engorged head between your plush lips. You felt like heaven, but the ache in your pussy felt like hell. You slowly began to go the full length down his cock. Zeke was right: you had messed around with college boys before, but none were as big as him. Your gag reflex wasn’t prepared, causing you to choke and sputter on it. Zeke grinned slyly.

 “Say my name, sweetie.” He wanted to treat you right, but it was so enjoyable to indulge his sadistic side.

 “Mr. Yeager.” You choked out. You knew how much he enjoyed that title; the feeling of authority it brought him made him hard as a rock every time. He groaned in pleasure, sending shivers down your spine. That knocked him off his rhythm for a moment, but he was right back on you the minute he regained some sense of self.

 “The kids are right upstairs, peacefully sleeping, while you choke on my dick like a dumb little slut.” The thought made you feel so dirty. You shifted on the ground, squeezing your thighs together and trying to get some friction. “And you do it so well, baby. I couldn’t ask for better.” He sighed.

 “That’s it, pretty girl, don’t hurt yourself down there.” He slowly pulled you off his cock by your hair. He didn’t want to admit it, and really didn’t show any signs, but you had him on the verge of cumming down your throat. But he didn’t want his precious seed there. Hell no! He wanted you stuffed to the brim and properly bred.

 “I’ve wanted you for so goddamn long, you don’t even know.” The look on tour face was something beyond pleasure or pain. It was a mix of both with a side of...fear? “What, scared of taking something this big, doll?” You shook your head.

 “Don’t worry, daddy’ll get you nice and wet for him.” He slowly came to hover over you, lifting you up and sitting you down on the couch. He spread your legs, undoing the button of your shorts with his long, thick fingers, bringing his mouth to your zipper and pulling it down with his teeth. He pulled them down your legs, bringing his face to your core. You felt hot on his mouth and nose. He licked a wet stripe up your clothed core,

 “God, you taste like honey, sweetie. I’m so fuckin’ lucky.” He pulled your panties to the side, relishing in the sight of your puffy pussy. You were beautiful in the murky yellow light of the room. You folds shimmered with slick and he could see your cunt clench around nothing, so obviously desperate for his dick. That’s right, his dick. Only his. From now on.

 He dove into you, savoring your tangy flavor. Pussy was a taste all its own, each having new, intense, rich tastes he could barely describe. To be perfectly honest, Zeke was a sucker for a wet little cunt in his mouth, and you were the perfect subject. Every suck to your clit, every kiss and lick to your folds, every darting flick of his tongue into your aching little hole; it had you moaning and whimpering like a ditzy little slut. Your mind was hazy with ecstasy.

 “Don’t get too loud now, dollface. Don’t wanna wake the kids now, do you?” His words brought you back to Earth, forcing you to remember you were being eaten out by a father of two. It felt so filthy to know you had been bringing up his kids, acting as a faux wife, and now you were being treated like one, eaten out of your mind and promised a thorough breeding.

 “Not that I don’t believe you would get off on being watched. I bet you love that idea, huh?” You jolted at the words and the sensation of another kiss to your cunt. “It might sound a little sick, but I could invite my brother over, see if he has as good a taste as mine.” He’d be willing to invite Eren over for a test run of…you? You knew they didn’t get along, so it was surprising, but that only turned you on even more. Imaging them fighting over you like hungry wolves on the hunt. They’d ravish you without even thinking. If this was Zeke, held back, on his own, you could only yelp and whimper at what kind of monsters the two of them would be together.

 “Nah, that little shit doesn’t deserve you.” He smirked into your sopping wet core. Eren never appreciated the finer things in life, still to young to understand the joys of pussy eating. No, he was more for the fuck and chuck kind of lifestyle. You deserved better aftercare than a point towards the door. “Some of the guys at my firm, however. Bet they’d turn you out real nice. They’re all just about as big and pent up as me. We could all show you a real good time." That would be about…three, four, even five of him? All fucking you at once with the same vigor and deep seated intensity. You head buzzed at the thought. "You’d like that, wouldn’t you, whore?” You couldn’t keep up with him in this state. You were completely fucked out without even being fucked at all. Before you knew it, you were cumming all over his gorgeous face and beard. He was taken slightly aback, but he licked it all up in five seconds flat. He was a professional.

 “Answer me, doll.” He delivered a harsh slap to your thigh. He enjoyed the ripple it gave and the red mark his hand had left.

 “Yes, Mr. Yeager.” You stuttered out, barely above a whisper. Torturing you would be fun, but not tonight. No, he needed to be thorough with your pleasure and ensure you would never leave his side again. He gave a few light slaps to your slippery pussy, making your thighs shake and mouth move without making a sound.

 “That’s what I fuckin’ thought.” He slowly stood up, giving you a perfect view of the shining god before you. His body was something sculpted by the old masters; a true work of art. Before you could fully appreciate the image of perfection in front of you, he bent down just a bit, pushing your thigs back as far as they could go, squishing your tits under them. He enjoyed the way your pudgier parts stuck out, giving him more parts of you to pinch and suck on as he fucked into you. His was no doubt the biggest cock you’d ever taken, and it wasn’t easy to have inside of you at first. Your walls clamped down on him so tight it was almost painful. But as he slowly pushed in and out, pleasure began to overtake the pain and you started to loosen up just a bit.

 “Just relax, sweetie. Daddy’s got you.” Of course he had a daddy kink. It made perfect sense, as did yours. Hearing him say that in that truly comforting tone made your head spin with pleasure.

"God, you are so fucking tight." He continued to fuck into you at a savage pace, not seeming to care if you screamed or cry, rather relishing in the fact that you were. You were so young and tight and sensitive, it drove him mad. He was sure he could never go a day without your pussy again.

"You fit me like a vice, sweetheart. You trying to milk me dry? Huh?" Your mouth was hanging open, drool spilling out. It gave him ample opportunity to spit in your mouth once again.

"Swallow it you filthy slut." He lightly tapped your face.

"This is exactly how I wanted you." You could barely hear him, blanking out at the intensity of his continuous pounding of your poor little cunt. "Been thinking about this for months."

"Might just knock you up, sweetie. You already take care of my brats so well, what's one more?" You squealed at the thought. He wanted you to have his babies. He wanted you to be his new, permanent play thing to fuck and fill up every night.

"Yeah. I wan' your babies." You slurred your words, inebriated by the feeling of his cock filling your tight little cunt. He gazed down at your fucked out form, finding a sick sense of pleasure in how far gone you were all thanks to him. You moaned far too loud for someone in a house full of kids. You couldn't hold back, he just felt too damn good.

"You gonna cum, little girl?" He had almost a mocking tone when he asked that. You nodded your head, squeezing your eyes shut. He kept up the pace, abusing your g-spot, not letting up for even a second. He set out to make you feel incredible; like the perfect little plaything he knew you to be, and he wasn’t going to let his slightly aged stamina get in the way.

"That's it, you look so pretty, baby. What a good little slut." He looked down at you with heated intensity. "My little slut." He continued his brutal pace almost as if you had never cum at all.

"Oh, 'd you think I'd quit just 'cause you finished? No fuckin' way." You squealed as he continued to thrust inside you, still drunk on the idea of being full of his cum. You wanted him more than you had wanted anything in your life.

"'M gonna make you squirt all over me. Ruin this nice, expensive couch." You were screaming his name at that point, unable to form a thought that wasn't Zeke and his perfect dick.

"Such a fuckin' cocktease all these months. This is what you get for it. Tummy full of my cum." He slowed his pace as he looked into your eyes with the intensity of a man drunk on desire.

"All those times you flipped your skirt up so I could see your cute little panties." He thrusted into you harder than he had before. "All those times you called me Mr. Yeager in that innocent tone that drove me up the wall." He thrusted harder than you had ever thought possible. You felt him hit your cervix. "Every time you acted like you didn't know what you were doing. Like you didn't know what I wanted." He continued to pound into you. You felt so full, so good.

"You're getting tighter, baby. You gonna squirt while daddy fills you up, huh?" His pace was brutal and you were seeing stars.

"That's it, pretty baby, cum all over me. Let me fill you up." He humped into you a few final times before shooting his load into your cunt. You screamed at the feeling of your cum squirting out of you as his cum squirted into you. You were so dizzy and so full. You were happy. You were safe and taken care of and filled to the brim by the man you loved most.

 “Hey.” You saw Zeke’s stunningly handsome face look down at you. His cheeks were flushed, forehead sweaty, sculpted chest heaving. But his eyes were transfixed on you with a look so filled with love and passion it made you feel like you were floating. “How you holding up, princess?” That was a new name…not that you minded. “Didn’t go too rough did I?” He panted in between his gentle words, the main drawback of giving it your all.

 “Actually.” You huffed a bit, just then realizing how difficult it was to talk, or move, or breathe. “Think you coulda’ gone harder.” He chuckled, the same look of complete infatuation lingering in his oceanic eyes.

 “Yeah?”

 “Yeah.”

 “You sure?”

 “I’m tougher than you’d think, old man.” He laughed at you, appreciating how you could still be the sweetest little thing he’d ever met after being pounded half to death.

 “Alright, I’m not even thirty, you little minx.”

 “Calling me a minx isn’t helping your case, Zeke.” His eyes lit up with recognition.

 “First time you’ve called me that, angel.” He smiled like an idiot in love, because he was one.

 “Maybe it’ll be the last, if you keep acting like such an animal around me.” You slapped his shoulder with as much strength as you could muster, which was basically none.

 “Well, if you don’t like the rough treatment, how about I treat you like the perfect angel you are? Treat you to a nice, warm shower and a cuddle session with yours truly. How about that?” He gently rubbed your cheek, taking in how wonderful your afterglow was.

 “Sounds nice.”

 “Alright, let’s go, angel.”

 “Okay, Mr. Yeager.” You giggled at how quickly his face darkened and lips tightened into a frown.

 “Ever the tease, you are.” He carried you to his shower bridal style, no doubt a sign of things to come.

[flyingkiki]

We played dangerously (1/?)

Because we need more stories that show us just how much of a dirty boi Timbo is. The more smtty #TimRae the better. So excited for this story and delve heavily into their drama and dirty deeds. Strap yourselves in, bbs. it's a steamy one.

The history between them ran deep and long, mostly unspoken, messy, and painfully raw. Years later, here they are - older and carrying just a little bit more baggage than necessary. Tim and Raven reflect on their dangerous history and sift through the extra baggage they acquired.

~~~~

“You’re quitting?”

Raven frowned and crossed her arms defensively. She steeled herself as Red Robin stared at her, a look of total disbelief on his face as he processed what she just told him. She ignored how a heavy feeling settled low in her stomach.

“I’m taking a sabbatical,” she said levelly.

“For an undefined period of time,” continued Tim, his voice strained as he drew his eyebrows together trying to process what he just heard five minutes ago. “That sounds like quitting to me,”

She pressed her lips together as she tried to ignore the harsh press of Tim’s emotions against her. She watched him stare at her from across the briefing room, the sound of their computer working on data broke the heavy silence between them. “It’s my life, of course it’s indefinite,”

Tim blinked and followed her stance, crossing his arms as he studied her intently. “I’m not trying to take control of your life, Raven,” he bristled.

Raven tilted her head in challenge. For whatever reason she felt annoyance crawl under her skin. “It sounds like you are,”

“I’m not,” Tim pressed, sighing loudly. With a huff he pulled off his mask and threw it on the briefing table. Raven watched it slide on the flat surface before looking back up at Tim’s confused blue eyes. “Look, I don’t want to fight. You can do whatever you want, Raven. You’re right, it’s your life. I’m sorry if I sounded controlling,”

Raven hummed in acknowledgement. She knew he meant well. She knew Tim well enough that he wanted to understand the situation at hand. She shifted under his gaze and ignored how her stomach gnawed painfully. “When are you leaving?” Tim asked, his tone softer as he slid into the seat across from her. Raven watched him grab his mask and fiddle with it absently. The atmosphere shifted and her stomach churned painfully.

“In two weeks,” Raven replied and sat down in front of him. She watched Tim press his lips together and frown at the news. “I got into a special program. School starts early in August,”

Tim swallowed and threw her a torn look. “I’m glad you’re going off to university,” he began. He paused to inhale as he tried to think. “And this is not something you could do, like part-time online or something?”

Raven frowned at the way he tried to find ways to make her stay. “No,” she said. “Our work is a tight schedule as it is,”

Tim nodded in agreement. He gave a halfhearted smile. “At least I tried,”

Her stomach lurched without her consent and she ignored the jumble of emotions in the room. Her decision was final. This conversation made the move incredibly real. Pain settled low in her stomach. She needed to pack and get things going. “I want a life outside of the Titans, Tim,” she said. “Most of you have lives outside of the Tower. Gar does his stupid acting. Jaime has his family and volunteer work. You run WE, Tim. You all get to do something outside of our uniform. I just want something as close to normal as I can get, whatever that is for Rachel Roth, even if it’s just for a while.”

Tim sighed. The tension was palpable as Tim frowned. His brows furrowed and he nodded. “Yeah, I respect that, Rae,” he said, voice low. Running his hand through his hair, Tim leaned back into his chair with a huff. “Yeah, okay. Yeah,” he breathed and looked deep in thought. She felt the faint press of his carefully controlled emotions. “We’ll make some preparations for your transition and make sure that everything is in order. I’ll let the Justice League know,”

There was a beat of silence between them. Raven was surprised how methodological the conversation was. Then again, was she really expecting an argument for her to stay? There was an inexplicable pin-like pain in her chest she could not shake off. Wasn’t this what she wanted? Sighing softly, she assumed their conversation was done and stood up. Tim probably had to file a report to the JL. She had to pack up and get going with her life – they all did. Raven swallowed a thought.

“Well, thanks,” she said and turned to leave the room. She heard Tim stand up.

“Hey,” Tim called, voice slightly strained. Raven paused and turned back around, eyeing him curiously. Tim swallowed and his brows pressed together and there was a cautious look on his face. “This is not about –”

“No,” Raven cut him off sharply. “It’s not.”

Tim sighed and his shoulders lowered slightly. He caught her blue eyes and Raven watched an expression she cannot quite place cross his face. He offered her a tentative smile and nodded, his brows still furrowed and still looking torn. “Okay,” he breathed. “Yeah, good.” He paused before continuing. “We’ll tell the team after dinner tonight.”

Raven nodded. Her stomach felt heavy, she had enough of this conversation. It was done. “I’m going to start packing up stuff,” she said and made her way towards the door.

“Everyone’s going to miss you, Raven,” Tim said as she opened the door.

She paused at the door, hand resting at the metal doorframe. Her finger tapped the frame thoughtfully as a few stray thoughts ran through her mind, before turning to look over her shoulder, catching Tim’s piercing blue eyes. She sent him a tight smile and buried whatever errant emotions tickled her heart. “Yeah, I’ll miss everyone too. I’ll be back soon, I promise.”

She did not come back anytime soon.

~~

Tim forgot when he was last in the Gotham Public Library – perhaps back when he was still in high school, 11 years ago? He wasn’t all too sure. His high school memories were blurry, given how his vigilante life was far more exciting than high school calculus.

But he was sure that the Gotham Public Library did not look this modern or dazzling since he last stepped into it when he was 15. The large library atrium was cleared out from its usual chairs and tables and instead filled with cocktail tables, round tables with sparkling black and gold table settings, buffet tables lined the walls, upbeat jazz music and heavy conversations filled the usual quiet halls, and every single one of the Gotham’s elite was dressed to the nines.

It was a charity dinner with plates going for the thousands. There was a silent auction too, some collectors’ books were up for grabs. The library was launching a new exhibit with some new codex they found out of Gotham. Wayne Foundation was funding most of the research and restoration work that went with it, and tonight’s event was supposed to help cover costs for the library’s expansion projects.

He idly listened to some politicians talk to Bruce and his siblings, Damian and Cass. Jason had moseyed off somewhere (likely browsing through the bookshelves or bidding on some of the collectibles in the silent auction) – lucky for the asshole. Tim wasn’t really paying attention. There was a lot going on, Tim barely kept up if he was being honest. A business merger was keeping his mind preoccupied, he was flying out to Japan tomorrow morning, and tonight’s dinner was the last place he honestly wanted to be at – but press as CEO of WE was important, Bruce liked to constantly remind him.

“So I was saying to him, ‘Johnny, son, if you don’t pull your pants up, that’s gonna be a lawsuit waiting to happen,’,” said the old man, assistant city treasurer – or whatever – to their small group. The old man heartily laughed, wheezing into his champagne glass. Bruce looked like he just swallowed bad caviar and cleared his throat while Damian and Cass made no effort to hide their bewildered faces. Tim sighed.

“Well, it does sound like a lawsuit waiting to happen, Mr. Peters,” Tim absently fiddled with his scotch glass and wondered if he should get anything stronger to get him through the night.

The man made a wounded sound and said something before slinking off. Bruce and Tim shared an exasperated look. Damian clicked his tongue, absently tapping his glass of orange juice. “This party is terrible, father,” he sniffed and icily scanned the crowd. “May we leave early?”

Bruce eyed his teenage son blandly. “We came here together, we leave together,” he said.

“Tt,” Damian frowned and took a sip from his orange juice.

Tim glanced at Damian, mildly feeling sorry for the 16-year-old gremlin. He remembered how he felt over these galas when he was younger. Internally grimacing at the galas when he first became CEO back when he was 17, Tim hid his displeasure behind his scotch glass while taking a sip.

They milled around more, talking to investors and guests from Gotham’s elite and academe. Tim smiled politely and held conversations where necessary, idly wondering when the night would be over. The crowd soon gathered in the middle of the atrium at the soft chime of a bell, signaling the start of another round of speeches from the library. Tim and his siblings slowly followed Bruce and the rest of the crowd towards the atrium. Tim caught Damian and Cass sharing bored glances.

“We’d like to thank everyone for being with us tonight,” said the Gotham Public Library Head Librarian, a well-dressed elderly man. The man went on with library expansion updates and the latest figures on tonight funds that were raised. Tim barely listed as he checked his phone for his flight details Tam sent him earlier. Ignoring the polite applause that filled the room, Tim continued to discreetly scroll through his itinerary.

“Tonight we’re also delighted to announce the opening of our exhibit, the Life Codex: Ancient Celebrations of Life. The library is honored to house this latest discovery and carry out the research, restoration, and preservation work of these recent discoveries,” the librarian droned on about ancient documents and the restoration work involved. Tim felt Cass nudge him and he blinked, looking up from his briefer. He stared at her quizzically.

“Attention,” she whispered. Tim offered her a sheepish look and pocketed his phone. They both turned their attention back to the stage. He caught sight of Jason’s large built shuffle in next to them, looking utterly bored. Since Jason was ‘legally alive’ again, they had roped him into attending a few events once in a while – much to the older man’s displeasure.

Mr. Tompkins, the Head Librarian, went on to discuss the project details that had gone underway since last month. Documents from Africa had been flown in and the research team had been working on restoring paper and decoding the codex. Tim barely listened as the elderly man droned on and silently wondered if he could still catch some sleep before his flight in the morning. His phone vibrated and he pointedly ignored Cass' look as he pulled out his phone to check an update from Tam.

"Doctor Collins, Dean of Gotham University's history and anthropology department is leading this project and she has built an excellent team for this project. Doctor Collins?" The head librarian welcomed an elderly woman with salt and pepper hair up on stage. Tim drowned out the speech as Dr. Collins started talking about the project, briefly looking at his phone and going through the project document for tomorrow's meeting with the Japanese tech firm. Tim wondered if he could at least get some good sushi while in Tokyo. Perhaps he could ask Tam to squeeze that into his schedule, they could --

"Hey, isn't that…" Jason paused and squinted at the stage. "Huh."

"Tim, look,"

Tim closed his phone and glanced at Cass curiously before turning his attention to the stage. Tim stopped short at what he saw.

Dressed in a flowing halter gown with a modest v-neck and a teasingly stylish slit up her right leg, a strikingly familiar woman walked up on the small platform offering the crowd a tentative smile and a modest wave. Tim watched the small woman carefully shuffle across the platform as a few more members of the research team were introduced. He blinked and stared at the violet-black haired woman and felt his throat tighten.

As if sensing his stare, dark blue eyes caught his light blue ones from across the hall. They zeroed in on him, easily catching him in a sea of hundreds.

There was an inexplicable tightness that seized his chest briefly, as Tim stared back at the woman, watching transfixed as emotions flickered across her face before quickly slipping back into a small pleasant smile and keeping her gaze briefly at him before turning to her colleagues and chuckling at something they were whispering to each other on stage. Tim watched and stared at her, schooling the surprise on his face, and just drinking in every familiar slopes and planes of her face because it had been what? Five? Six? Years since he last saw her.

"That's -"

"Rachel," Tim cut off Cass, blinking away his brief surprise and instead stared intently at his (former?) teammate.

"Rachel Roth leads our research team. Is there anything you'd like to say, dear?" Dr. Collins asked, turning to the group on stage. Rachel looked surprised before shaking her head and waving her hand in decline. "Ms. Roth does excellent work in ancient runes and languages, and restoration work. It's a pleasure to have her on the team. She's a guest lecturer at Gotham U, so if you're lucky, you best sign up for her special lecture series on ancient runes."

Tim watched as Rachel blushed at the praise, ducking her head briefly before chuckling at something a blonde haired woman next to her said. The group on stage shared a laugh and Tim watched curiously at the familiar sight of Raven smiling. There were few more pleasantries on stage before the group had their photo taken

“If we could invite Mr. Bruce Wayne, Mr. Lucius Fox, and Mr. Tim Wayne, to come up on stage for a quick photo with the rest of the team? After which we can proceed with our evening, and hopefully get your support in our library’s expansion work,” the head librarian called.

Tim blinked as Cass nudged him and pulled him out of his thoughts. Clearing his throat, he handed Cass his drink and quickly walked up the stage, following Bruce and Lucius up the small steps. Pulling on his practiced Tim Wayne-CEO-of-WE-smile, he dutifully shook hands with Dr. Collins and the head librarian. He briefly caught Raven’s stare as he moved across the stage to shake hands with people on the stage. Their gaze briefly met and her lips quirked into a small smile before quickly turning away and shuffling to the end of the line and out of reach for any other contact without attracting too much attention on them. Photos were taken swiftly and before Tim knew it everyone was ushered off the stage and he was wrapped up in a rather lengthy conversation on library work and the ongoing renovation projects.

Tim discreetly tried to look over his shoulder, barely catching a glimpse of the familiar slope of Raven’s shoulder disappearing into the crowd.

“Bruce Wayne,” Dr. Collins walked up to them just as the head librarian excused himself. The elderly woman beamed and quickly shook Bruce’s hand.

“Julia, it’s nice to see you again,” Bruce smiled warmly. “You know my son, Tim,”

Tim smiled and shook her hand. “Dr. Collins, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” he said, easily pulling himself out of his thoughts of trying to find Raven in the crowd.

“Mr. Wayne,” The elderly woman beamed and regarded both men in front of her.

Tim chuckled. “Just Tim, please,”

“I worked with you parents, Jack and Janet, many years ago on a few of their archaeological digs, back in their early years. I met you when you were a little boy once or twice. I must say I am impressed at what a successful grown man you've become, Tim,” praised Dr. Collins. The elderly woman hummed and smiled. “CEO of Wayne Enterprises,”

Tim chuckled, pulling on his best boardroom smile. “Thank you,”

“Also, this makes me realize that time certainly flies when the young boy you last saw in diapers has become the CEO of the world’s most successful conglomerate,” Dr. Collins chuckled, beaming up at Bruce with a mischievous smile. “That does make me feel old,”

Bruce chuckled as Tim politely made a face and their small group fell into an easy conversation. “The last eight years with Tim as CEO have been the best years for the company,”

Tim grinned playfully over his scotch. “Careful, is that praise I hear?”

The small group fell into an easy conversation discussing work and the research project. Tim quickly gathered that Dr. Collins was an old family friend of the Waynes, particularly of Bruce’s parents. He kept rapt attention to the conversation, nodding and chiming in where necessary, while occasionally glancing around the room for even a hint of purple or black.

Feeling distracted by tonight’s discovery of Raven, Tim was ready to excuse himself from the conversation and pretend to make a phone call. That seemed to be the best way to try to look around and catch Raven.

“There you are,” Dr. Collins glanced over Bruce’s shoulder and beamed. She beckoned for whoever was behind Bruce to come closer.

“I was looking for you,”

Despite the years that passed, Tim recognized the familiar voice in a heartbeat. He watched as Raven appeared from behind Bruce. He schooled his face, trying to fight away any signs of recognition and familiarity towards the black haired woman. Tim watched in a mix of curiosity and internal surprise as Raven smiled softly at their group and confidently walked up to them. From the slopes of her shoulder, the elegant movements of her hands, to her black-violet hair, deep stormy blue eyes, and that achingly familiar errant dusting of a few freckles just around the hollows of her neck, Raven looked exactly like how he remembered her. Tim blinked and absently tapped his scotch glass as he stared openly at her, a sight he had not seen in years.

“Rachel, please meet Bruce Wayne and his son, Tim. As you know Wayne Enterprises provides extensive funding for our work,” Dr. Collins said, waiving at both men in front of them.

“Mr. Wayne,” Raven began, moving her champagne glass into her left hand and went to shake Bruce’s hand. A smile appeared on her face as she and Bruce exchanged pleasantries. There was no air of familiarity between them, despite the schooled smiles that stretched across both of their lips. Tim knew that practiced look from all the undercover missions he had seen, been with, her. “It’s nice to meet you. Thank you for all your support,”

Raven turned to Tim and he watched as her smile immediately curled up just a tiny bit more in that familiar teasing way he had not seen in the last six years. There was that achingly familiar twinkle in her eyes he often saw back in the day, reserved for rare occasions, and Tim found himself smiling back at Raven and eagerly drinking in her familiar presence. “Mr. Wayne,” she said to him, a small quiver in her voice that no one but him seemed to pick up. She reached out and shook his hand.

Tim gave her hand a brief squeeze and he was pleased to see how the corner of her lips curled into a familiar amused smile he remembered. “Just Tim,”

Raven hummed and nodded, pulling her hand back. “Thank you again for supporting the research and restoration project,”

“What were you busy with before joining this project?” Bruce asked curiously. There were little updates from Raven throughout the years as she left the team for university and eventually work. While in the early years of her sabbatical Tim kept some updates on her, these eventually became less up to date as Raven eventually seemed to do her own thing.

“I was in Iceland,” Raven supplied and explained that she worked on an ancient runes translation project with the local university for six months.

Tim felt a distant memory tickle the back of his mind and he ignored the tight feeling that accompanied those distinct memories. He ignored the whisps of memories that teased his mind. Dark blue eyes briefly caught his stare and he watched that familiar curl in the corner of Raven’s lips appear. Tim smiled in return. “Iceland is a beautiful country,” he commented.

Raven stared at him, dark blue eyes intense as he remembered them. “It is,”

“We’re glad that Rachel has joined our project. She’s a fine addition to our team,” commented Dr. Collins. The elderly woman smiled teasingly. “And we’re definitely hoping she’ll considering staying in Gotham after the project ends,”

Raven rolled her eyes in amusement. “We’re just two weeks into the project. We have a long way to go,”

Tim looked at her curiously. How could he have missed her entering Gotham?. “You’ve been here for two weeks?”

Raven looked at him as if catching the slight jump in his emotions at this little discovery. “Three actually, if you count my moving in week,” she shrugged in amusement.

Three weeks. Tim stored that information for later, for a later conversation, and ignored how it settled uncomfortably in his stomach. He instead smiled at her and titled his head curiously. “I hope the transfer into Gotham wasn’t too difficult,”

Raven made a face. “It’s been interesting,” she said and Tim easily caught her familiar teasing lilt in her voice.

“Let us know if you need any assistance getting you settled, I’m sure we can send over someone to help you with your apartment,” Bruce offered, smiling charmingly at Raven.

Raven waved him off. “It’s just a few more boxes, nothing really major,”

Tim watched as a young woman tentatively approached them and offered the group an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry to interrupt,” she said to the group and quickly turned to Raven. With a quick tilt of her head towards the right, she made a face. “The University Press wants to talk to you,”

Raven made a face. “Oh, Why?”

“Just stuff about the project and the lecture,” supplied the young woman. She offered Raven a wry smile and made a face. “Also one of them asked if you were single,”

Raven rolled her eyes before smiling tightly at Bruce and Tim. “I’m sorry, if you’d excuse me. It was really nice to meet you. Thank you again for all your support. I hope you’ll visit the library again and we could show you around our work,” she said. Quickly turning to Dr. Collins, she nodded politely. “I’ll see you later, Julia,”

Smiling at Bruce and Tim, she tilted her head and there was an amused glint in her eyes as she stared at them. “Gentlemen,” she then turned on her heels, casually drank the rest of her champagne with just a little bit more purpose and seemingly bracing herself for what was about to happen next. Standing a little taller and squaring her shoulders, Raven followed the young assistant towards the press. “So, what did you tell them?” she asked, amusement lacing her voice.

As the conversation between Dr. Collins and Bruce resumed, Tim took a long sip of his scotch and stared at Raven’s retreating form. A million thoughts ran through his mind and he silently wondered just how fast he could get through his business trip in Tokyo. Sushi would have to wait for another time.

[miekasa]

winter break/skiing au with eren

↯ pairing: eren jaeger x (fem) reader

↯ genres and warnings: modern au (college), fluff, eren is an idiot but we all knew that, and yes i do think he’d probably be a good snowboarder or athlete in general tbh

↯ word count: 2.7k lol and it’s not even written out like a fic

↯ notes: this is based off of a request i got for meeting eren at a ski lodge. heads up i know next to nothing about skiing or any related sport, so bear with me on this. also this formatting is... headcanonish but also fic like?? in an alternate timeline, i could write this out as a fic, but my lack of knowledge about the subject + me wanting to try this format out resulted in this!

If he’s being completely honest, Eren wasn’t ecstatic to be going on this skiing trip with his friends in the first place, but he didn’t have much choice, seeing as he didn’t want to be the only one left behind for winter break.

Not to mention he’s a shit skier. He’s fine with a snowboard, so he wouldn’t be stuck on the bunny hills for a week, but that didn’t mean he was happy about it. After all, he was pushing to go somewhere warm for break. You know, since it was already freezing cold at home.

Nevertheless, he sucks it up for the sake of his friends’ happiness (and because he was severely outnumbered. Also because Armin had never been skiing and Eren really wanted to record him falling face first into the snow at some point).

As expected, it’s fucking freezing by the time they make it to the lodge, but at least Jean—resident organizer of this trip—had gotten them a pretty nice cabin with central heating, and a fireplace. It’s more of a house that they’re renting really, with enough rooms for the six of them.

Unfortunately the rooms were not soundproof so he was subject to hearing Jean and Connie staying up until the crack of dawn, and Mikasa throwing pillows at Sasha telling her to shut the fuck up. But at least he got to room with Armin, so it wasn’t all bad. 

Eren spends the first day just chilling around, still warming up to the idea of the trip (and warming up physically, because fuck is it cold here). The lodge itself has main, communal buildings with indoor activities—a game room, indoor pools, hot tubs, a buffet, the whole nine yards—that he spends time exploring.

He’s heading down to the indoor pool with Armin and Jean in tow, the rest of his friends opting to head upstairs for dinner first after their day of skiing; and that’s where he sees you. And, not to sound like a lovestruck idiot, but Eren thinks you might be the prettiest person he’s ever seen in his life.

In a cliche moment, he catches you as your head reemerges from out of the water, face dripping wet with pool water as you tread in your spot. Eren looks stupid—big, green eyes wide as hell and a little bit of a gap between his lips.

Jean has to smack him upside the head to get him walking again, mumbling about how Eren looks like the literal heart eyes emoji to which Eren simply pushes the taller boy into the water.

He looks back to spot you again (in a non-creepy manner of course), when a voice calls out your name—he’s presuming, by the way your turn your head.

“You’ll turn into a prune if you stay in any longer,” a short man with dark hair calls to you, a towel around his shoulder his mostly dry body, save for his swimming shorts that are still damp, “Come on, I don’t want get the shit end of the stick at the buffet.”

The short man’s words seem to make you chuckle, and a little reluctantly, you swim to the edge of the pool, taking his hand to get out of the water. Eren frowns a bit watching the interaction. You and the short man seem close—there go his chances of… well, he’s not sure exactly… uh… talking to you, maybe?

Whatever it was, you might already have a boyfriend, and from the way the rest of, who Eren is again presuming to be, your friends walk with you to the exit, it doesn’t seem like he’d ever find you alone again.

Oh well. He sighs, trying not to think much of it, and enjoy his time in the pool. (He fucking doesn’t because Jean gets his revenge and pushes him in the deep and even Armin his him with a pool noodle. Traitor).

Day two he’s finally going to to the slopes. On his way up in the lift, he can see Sasha and Connie stumbling down the hill while Jean laughs behind them, and Eren only shakes his head.

Yeah, maybe they shouldn’t have taken Sasha, Connie, and Armin with them on the advanced hills, but it was so much more fun this way. Although, to his credit, Armin was catching on quickly (no thanks to Eren or Jean; that was all Mikasa’s teachings).

Eren lets Mikasa work her magic with Armin. He straps on his helmet and goggles, and heads down first. It’s been a while since he’s snowboarded, but he’s still pretty damn good if he does say so himself. He even tries out a few old tricks and—not to brag—but sticks his landing every time.

Halfway down the slope, he can feel someone else boarding beside him—and he doesn’t think much of it, until they replicate his previous flip, landing a just a little in front of him.

Eren can’t see the person through their goggles, but from the way they look back at him before pushing forward, he can tell that they wanted a challenge. And who is Eren to turn down a little friendly competition?

The descent continues on with Eren and his mystery partner not-so-subtly flexing their own skills. Eren copies their flips and turns, and is amazed as he watches them copy his in return. 

He decides to kick it up a notch, swerving over to a small snow rap, to use the height it gives him to pull off his signature move—yes it’s called the Jaegerbomb, yes he did come up with it when he was eleven, and no he doesn’t regret because it’s still sick as fuck, shutup Zeke.

He sticks his landing, perfectly timed with the end of the slope, pushing his board forward to completely stop himself. He turns around, lifting his goggles, to give his copycat a smug look, when, to his surprise, he sees them pulling off something almost equally as impressive, and probably more complex before they land. 

Eren’s got the same stupid, starstruck look on his face as he did in the pool, as he watching their momentum come to a stop a little ways downhill from him, because, fuck if that wasn’t the coolest thing he’s ever seen.

Immediately, they’re surrounded by two other bodies, both of which sing their praises, probably for that last move. Eren knows he would. It’s only after your goggles are pushed up over your helmet and your turn around that Eren realizes its you! The girl from the pool.

If he was awestruck before, it’s nothing compared how he’s feeling now. No way you were the same person! But, he has to admit, if we were gonna get crushed by anybody on the slopes, he’s glad it was a pretty girl.

To his surprise, you make your way over to him after unbuckling from your board, and Eren has to quickly shake the stupid look off of his face.

“I guess I lost our race back there,” you say with a smile, cloudy air falling from your lips from the cold, “But I just wanted to tell you that your last flip was really cool! It must have taken you forever to master that.”

For the first time since arriving, Eren’s glad it’s cold as shit, because now at least he has a coverup for the redness creeping onto his cheeks. With a nervous chuckle, he finally responds, “Yeah, I’ve, uh, kinda been working on it since I was eleven.”

“Well it definitely payed off, I’ve never seen anything like it,” you cheer, and Eren is really considering passing out right now, but that would not be cool. Very uncool. So he doesn’t. “Have you been boarding that long?”

“Yeah! I mean, well, I’m only 21, so I guess not that long,” Eren says with a nervous chuckle, “Well—uh, I guess, like, ten years is a long time, but I—I used to snowboard more often when I was little with my family, then, um, you know college got in the way in stuff… haha… yeah.”

Okay, fine, Eren has never been the smoothest guy in the world, but he’s usually not this awkward either. But can you really blame him?—between your looks, and your skills, and the fact that you actually came over to initiate and carry out a conversation with him, he was a goner from the start.

“I’m Eren, by the way,” he continues, hoping to cover up his awkward stuttering, “And, uh, you must have been doing this for a while too? Your last move was sick, I’ve never seen anything like it!”

“(Y/N),” you respond with a smile. Luckily for him, you don’t seem completely turned off by his awkward demeanor, still as bubbly as ever. “Not really… well, kind of? Maybe a few years at this point, but my teacher’s been a real hardass, so I learned to pick up on things pretty quick unless I wanted to get turned into a human snowball,” you tell him, turning your shoulder a bit to point back at your friends, “If you think what I did was good, you gotta see Levi—he’s the short one yelling at the one with the pigtails. He taught me everything I know.”

Eren recognizes Levi as the shorter man who helped you out of the pool yesterday. He deflates a little—he’d kind of forgotten about him, and he isn’t too happy to be reminded of him again.

“Oh, I see,” Eren nods, glancing over at Levi once more, “He must be a pretty good teacher.”

“When he’s not throwing snowballs as a learning tool, yeah he is,” you laugh, “Anyways, I actually wanted to ask if you wanted to go at it again sometime. I don’t know how long you’re, uh, staying or anything, but racing with you was fun. Even if you did get a bit of a head start.”

“I’m here for the week, actually,” Eren’s eyes practically shine at the hint of competitiveness in your voice. He loves to be challenged, after all. “But I don’t mind giving it a go right now, if you’re going up again?”

Eren has to stop himself from grinning like an idiot when you accept his invitation. He thinks he’s finally in the clear when he hears the short man—Levi—call out your name again.

To his surprise, you beckon Eren along with you, and you introduce him to Levi formally. Levi has to look up to look at Eren, but Eren’s the one who shrinks under his gaze; an embarrassed flush creeping up his neck. Damn, your teacher (friend, too? not boyfriend, apparently, though?) is intimidating as hell, how on Earth do you take lessons from him without buckling in fear??

You point to your other friends—Isabel and Farlan—who are standing a little further away. The former of whom is attempting to make a snow angel while the blonde is enthusiastically recording and taking pictures of the events.

After introducing the two, you ask Levi if he wants to up the hill with the both you again (and no, Eren doesn’t pout when you extend the offer to him—he’s really working on this keeping his feelings in check and being a rational thinker and all that and if you ask him it’s paying off), to which Levi declines (thank god).

Not even because Eren would be bummed if you didn’t get that he wanted to spend some more time alone with you not just to snowboard, but also because he knows he’d fall flat on his face in front of Levi, and then he’d probably have to hide in shame for the rest of his trip.

“Looks like it’s just us then,” you smile at him, “Okay, we can head back up—I’m just gonna ask Isabel to trade gloves with me real quick, yeah? And steal a heat pack from her.”

Eren doesn’t know if he should follow you over to Isabel, so he kind of shuffles around where he’s standing, a few feet next to Levi. (And damn, is it just Eren or is it suddenly 50 degrees colder next to this man).

Eren’s avoiding eye contact and small talk—and subsequently avoiding any bubbling feelings or irrational false suspicions about Levi. Also, he sucks at small talk.

It’s Levi who lets out an exasperated sigh first, not even bothering to turn to face Eren before bluntly saying, “She’s single.”

Eren’s eyes go wide and he’s sputtering in embarrassment—also because Levi said it so loudly, what if you heard??—but he’s cut off again before he can even speak: “Don’t even try it, Farlan and I saw you drooling over her at the pool, too.”

Well, now Eren’s certain that the blush on his face and neck are not from the cold, but from his complete and utter humiliation. “Well, I, uh, I didn’t mean to—”

“You don’t seem to be too great at this, so I’ll take pity on you and tell you she likes you, too. Or likes you enough, at least,” Levi continues.

“I—she does?” Eren blurts. Okay, now he’s probably being too loud.

“She talked to you didn’t she,” Levi says, but the question comes out as more of a deadpan observation, “Look if she asks you about anything while you’re up there—or better yet, asks you to teach her anything, just take it as an opening, alright kid? Trust me, there’s nothing you can do that she can’t.”

Ouch. Eren reasons that Levi is probably right, he’s only seen you board once but you’re pretty incredibly but, still.

Wait does that mean you really were flirting with him before?? You’re actually interested in him???

He hears you calling out to him, and sees you waving, gesturing towards the lifts with a new pair of bright blue mittens on, and Eren barely has the coherency to wave back (stupidly, slowly, lovestruck, like an idiot).

Levi watches the exchange with a bored look on his face. He sighs audibly this time, untucking his arms from where they were crossed over his chest to pick up the snowboard at his feet. “Cabin 24C, east wing. Bring her back after dinner,” he says, hoisting the board under his arm before walking towards Farlan and Isbael.

Eren doesn’t even have time to ask him anymore questions—plus you’ve started walking towards the lifts and he’s obviously not going to leave you hanging.

He doesn’t and your little ski-lift, snowboarding kind of date goes well, even if he’s positive you did take it easy on him.

You’re the one to ask him to go up one more time, when Eren remembers Levi’s advice and finally musters up the courage to ask: “Actually, I’m a little hungry—do you, uh, maybe wanna head inside for dinner? If you’re still up to, we can come back later.”

And when the evening is over and Eren’s gotten your number, he does in fact walk you back to your lodge with your friends, and he thinks that even Levi gave him a look of approval before slamming the door in his face.

(It wasn’t really approval, so much as he’s impressed Eren had the balls and critical thinking skills to actually ask you out in the end. But it’s fine because Farlan and Isabel both loudly told him how happy they were to see you’d scored a date with ‘emerald eyes from the pool’).

Mikasa and Armin are less than impressed when Eren comes back to his own lodge at damn near midnight after having not answered any of their calls all day, but Eren thinks it was worth it, even if he does have a bruise from Armin poking him in the side with his ski poles.

Eren meets you at the slopes every day for the rest of the week, ignoring Jean and Connie’s claims about him being a simp. So what if he is? He’s the one snowboarding and sipping hot chocolate with the pretty girl from pool at the end of the day isn’t he?

He learns that the both of you attend the same university, but are in almost opposite programs. That makes sense, Eren thinks, because he surely would have remembered seeing you on campus before.

You even get along with his friends really well, even if you only get the opportunity to meet them once at the lodge. Eren is more than impressed, he doesn’t think he’s ever seen Mikasa warm up to someone so quickly. 

He thinks he’s pretty successful at meeting your friends, too. Isabel and Farlan continually reassure him that you do in fact have a crush on him (and maybe even persuade him try and kiss you before the week is over. Spoiler: he does, while it’s snowing and everything and it’s pretty damn great). 

On the last day of his trip, Eren takes you to the top of the hill with all his friends, and when you completely demolish Jean and leave him eating your dust, Eren thinks he might just be halfway in love with you already. 

[realcube]

jealous || kei tsukishima x reader

summary ♡ songfic! kageyama cheats on you and since tsukishima has had to suppress his crush on you for so long, he doesn’t know how to act

song ♡ jealous by eyedress

tw ♡ angst, cheating, cussing, fem! reader, violence 

part two ♡ crybaby ( 1 / 2 )

‘you could have anyone you want, why would you want to be with me?’

➼

Tsukishima thought, watching as you finished telling him the story behind your broken nail, waving him goodbye before skipping over to the side of your boyfriend who just exited the changing rooms, probably to go tell him the exact same story. 

Although your little stories annoyed the living hell out of him, it pained him to think that you’d share them with some cunt like Kageyama who probably didn’t give two shits. 

It might’ve seemed like he was annoyed by your stories too but in reality, your natural charm was enough to keep him hooked on every word you uttered. And that charm was probably the reason you were liked and known by almost everyone in the school - and due to your appearance, it was no surprise that most guys at the school had their eyes set on you. 

So this whole time Tsukishima was aware that there would be competition if he was going to ask you out. 

➼

 ‘you know, i’m nothing special. be with whoever you want.’ 

➼

Tobio Kageyama. Number nine, Karasuno’s first line-up setter - Tsukishima’s teammate. Of course, Tsukishima felt quite bad that he resented Kageyama so much - all over a girl - but in his defence, that girl was (Y/N) and it’s not like Kageyama was humble about it either. In fact, he’d make it a point to talk about all the things he did with (Y/N) whenever he thought Tsukishima was in earshot.

Also, you can’t blame Tsukishima for thinking that you were too good for Kageyama.. because you are. The only reason you two were together was because all the girls started shipping you two together after a video of him as your partner for a rather titillating salsa routine started floating around the school. 

The people saying that y’all would make a cute couple gave Kageyama the confidence to ask you out and of course you said yes; why wouldn’t you? Kageyama was the embodiment of everything girls loved: tall, atheletic, passionate (for volleyball), a himbo, cold and emotionally unavailable. 

While Tsukishima was almost identical; he was 4 out of those 6 things that girls loved - he wasn’t a himbo, fortunately. Neither was he emotionally unavailable. You even said yourself one time - before you formally met Kageyama - that you just thought he was a flavourless version of Tsukishima.

➼

‘i don’t care. i don’t care.’

➼

Perhaps it was just his ego speaking but Tsukishima was almost certain that if he were to have asked you out before Kageyama, you would’ve said yes. 

So, why didn’t he?

Well, he planned on asking you to be his girlfriend the same day that Kageyama did - Valentine’s Day - but at the last minute, he chickened out and the letter he had spent 3 hours making for you ended up in the trash. As for the chocolates he bought, he gave them to Yamaguchi. Curse his crippling insecurities! 

To be fair, the only reason Kageyama had the confidence or any interest in you whatsoever was due to all the girls perpetuating the idea that y’all would be a cute couple.

Tsukishima sighed as he recalled the first time you ever interacted with Kageyama. You had a dance project which involved creating your own salsa routine and either filming yourself doing it or performing it in front of the class - you asked Tsukishima if he’d assist you by being your dance partner and obviously he said no. Your next best bet was Hinata, so you explained your situation to him and as you know; where ever there is Hinata, there is Kageyama. So he overheard your dilemma and apparently he took dance classes all throughout middle school so he offered to help. Although you had never talked to Kageyama before that day, you still accepted his offer due to the tricky situation you were in.

It frustrated Tsukishima so much at the thought that if he had just swallowed his pride and danced with you, he wouldn’t be feeling a striking pain in his chest at the sight of you intimately kissing Kageyama while he stood there like a statue.

Once he realised what he was doing, he immediately averted his eyes, a sigh escaping his lips as he tried to convince himself that he was neutral about what he just witnessed. 

He didn’t care that you were dating someone who didn’t even care about you. He didn’t care about the fact he would’ve treated you ten times better than Kageyama ever could. He didn’t care about how close you were to Kageyama. He was simply unable to give a single fuck about the fact he still loved you. 

➼

‘i don’t wanna know. don’t tell me about your problems if you’re not trying to solve them.’

➼

“And then I told him to fuck off and my mum got all mad and she was like ‘don’t swear at a 6 year-old!’ but then I was like, ‘Mum, he literally-” 

Tsukishima rolled his eyes, you’ve been rambling to him about your shitty experiences babysitting for a good few minutes now but he was simply unable to pay attention. Not when every time he thought of you, his mind instantly focussed on the bruise you had on your neck which he had merely caught a glimpse of this morning, but that was enough to make him feel sick to his stomach. “Do you ever stop talking? Why not tell these stories to someone who cares? Where’s Kageyama?”

You pouted, crossing your arms over your chest and leaning back in your chair - by now, you were used to him being a bitch to you but recently, he’s been acting especially rude, even Yamaguchi was taken back at how uncalled for his remark was.  “Did I do something wrong? Why are you so mean all of a sudden?”

Something about your disappointed tone made Tsukishima’s heart sink, although he wasn’t sure why that was considering he undoubtedly didn’t care about how you felt - you could start crying for all he cared. 

“You’re just way more annoying than you used to be.” That was the first excuse Tsukishima could come up with but if he was being completely honest, he didn’t even notice his change in behaviour. “It’s probably all that time hanging out shittyama.”

“Tsukki!” Yamaguchi snapped, hunching forward over his table to flick his blonde friend on the back of his neck. “I agree with (Y/N), you’ve been kinda crass lately.”

You nodded at Yamaguchi’s statement, “Emphasis on the ass.” 

It took every bone in Tsukishima’s body to resist snickering at your stupid comment and keep a straight face, “Can you blame me? (Y/N) is the one who never stops complaining like geez, get a grip - nobody cares.”

➼

‘don’t ask me for my help. fix it yourself.’

➼

Honestly, Tsukishima wasn’t surprised when you ended up calling him at 1am, crying about how Kageyama cheated on you.

I mean, it was clear that he was only with you for sexual relief as he didn’t show the slightest bit of romantic interest in anyone - and you were too blinded by puppy love to notice that his perception didn’t widen beyond volleyball. 

In a way, Tsukishima felt quite bad for you as this was your first relationship and anybody would be heartbroken if they were cheated on but somehow he had managed to gaslight himself into believing that he truly didn’t give a fuck about how you felt. That’s why the call definitely didn’t go as well as he hoped. 

“Kei..” You spoke in a low voice in hopes that he wouldn’t realise that you were crying straight away but your faint sobs were a dead giveaway. “Are you busy?”

Tsukishima grumbled, sitting up on his bed and sliding his glasses up his nose, not having taken them off as just before you called him he was scrolling through Reddit anyway. “Eh? What is so important that you had to call me at 3 in the morning?”

“Kageyama cheated on me!” You wailed into your phone, struggling to keep it together even when you weren’t with Tsukishima face-to-face. “S-Sorry I called you. I just, um, I just needed to tell someone and the first person I thought of was you.” That wasn’t a complete lie. I mean, you did try calling Yamaguchi before you resorted to calling Tsukishima because Yamaguchi would undeniably be more compassionate in this situation. However, if it wasn’t for Tsukishima’s recent attitude problems, you probably would’ve called him first,

Upon hearing you say that, his heart fluttered - this should’ve been the first giveaway that he still liked you - but he chose to ignore it, sticking to the idea that you annoyed him and he definitely did not want to kiss your forehead, cuddle you under his sheets and reassure you that you’re out of Kageyama’s league anyway.

“Sorry, (Y/N).” Tsukishima spoke softly. This change of tone giving you the slightest bit of hope that you had finally managed to get through to him and maybe he was going to stop being so insolent and go back to being his old self - the Tsukishima that people actually liked. 

“Kei..” You mused, feeling your cheeks heat up at how nice and soothing his tired voice sounded. “I thi--”

“But that doesn’t sound like my problem. Good luck in dealing with it yourself, though.” 

With that last comment, he hung up, leaving you more upset than you were to begin with. 

➼

‘she tried to call me yesterday but i didn’t pick up because i don’t got time.’

➼

Tension was high at practice. Word had gotten out that Kageyama cheated on (L/N) and of course everyone’s opinion on him did a full 180 - nobody wants to train with a dirty cheater. 

This news should’ve been the highlight of Tsukishima’s month because not only is (Y/N) back on the market, Kageyama is getting the treatment he deserved for being so horrible to him and (Y/N). 

However, Tsukishima was far from pleased with everyone’s behaviour towards Kageyama because now they were all expecting confrontation and since Tsukishima was the one who already had beef with Kageyama, the team thought it would be best if it was him who approached the setter about the recent event. 

A horrible idea, in Tsukishima’s opinion. It wasn’t even the fact that he didn’t want to go any where near that milkboy but mostly because he didn’t even know what he’d say to the guy. What do you say in that situation? ‘Hey, man. We’d really appreciate it if you stopped being such a whore. It’s really killing the vibe.’

But lo and behold, here he was, standing across from Kageyama in the empty changing room. Desperately wracking through his brain to find the most appropriate thing to say, which was hard as Kageyama’s stare seemed to burn holes through Tsukishima’s glasses. Also, his mind was already pretty occupied by all the thoughts of how badly he wanted to beat the milkboy to the ground in (Y/N)’s honour. 

“What do you want, Tiredshima?” Kageyama inquired, scrunching up his empty milk box and casually throwing it aside, aiming for the bin but it ended up landing a few inches away from it.

Tsukishima tried to resist laughing at the milkboy’s failed attempt to look cool, “It’s-” Tsukishima wheezed slightly as a little bit of that laughter escaped before he took a moment to properly compose himself, “It’s about (Y/N)-”

At the mere mention of your name, the milkboy dipped. 

“Uh, where the fuck do you think you’re going?” Tsukishima spat, hastily reaching out to grab Kageyama’s wrist, yanking him back as soon as Tsukishima got a good grip on him. Resulting in the usually agile setter losing his balance and falling back, right onto his ass. 

“Don’t touch me!” Kageyama roared, rapidly scrambling to his feet, clenching his fist and snarling at Tsukishima who wore an astounded expression. “Do you have it out for me or something? What does (Y/N) have to do with anything?”

It was shocking how well Kageyama managed to paint the situation to make it seem like he was the innocent one when he was the one who broke a poor school girl’s heart after she showed him nothing but love - but Tsukishima wasn’t one to talk since he probably just added salt to her wound, like he always does, and he’d been thinking about it all night.

“Sorry, your highness, but maybe if you hopped off your throne for a moment and came down to reality to join the rest of us, you’d realise that the world doesn’t revolve around you. Do you know how much your shitty actions affected (Y/N)? She called me crying last night and..yeah.” His voice slowly drifted off as he remembered the events that occurred yesterday, you had called him in a vulnerable state and he simply told you to get to fuck.

Kageyama scoffed, brushing off the dust that clung to his clothes from when he was pulled to the ground, “Eh? Maybe you should practise what you preach.” Kageyama growled, baring his teeth - the little nickname Tsukishima had for him seriously made his blood boil. “She’d come to me on the verge of tears because you called her annoying and she thought you didn’t want to be her friend anymore.”

Tsukishima felt his heart tear apart at the thought of himself causing you so much emotional distress but you were half right, he didn’t want to be your friend - the wanted to be your boyfriend. If it wasn’t for a certain setter who’s name starts with ‘K’ and ends with ‘ageyama’, none of this would’ve happened and you’d happily be snuggled up in his arms while he played with your hair but no, Kageyama just had to get his dirty little setter hands on anything good.

“I mean,” Kageyama muttered, having clearly calmed down from five seconds ago, “She was kinda annoying, so I get why you’d say that. That’s why I did what I did, it wasn’t meant to spite her or hurt her feelings. You get what I mean, right?”

The ignorance; it made Tsukishima indescribably mad. (Y/N) wasn’t annoying - although Tsukishima might’ve heavily insinuated it, in the past - and the audacity Kageyama had to say that she was. Also, who in their right mind thinks that cheating is a rational reaction to irritation? 

Tsukishima wouldn’t consider himself a violent person but it was as though the bones in his body acted on their own when he delivered a full-force punch straight onto Kageyama’s cheek. And he didn’t regret it for a moment either - even when the milkboy starting pummelling him into the ground - as he figured that someone had to teach the dick a lesson, why not himself?

➼

‘i don’t have time. i don’t have time. i don’t have time. i don’t have time.’

➼

“Kei..hello? I know I’m probably the last person you want to see right now but Yamaguchi told me that you were here and..I just wanted you to know that I, uh, am really sorry and I hope you get well soon.”

[robinofinashiro]

request from anonymous: “Can I get a jean x reader you to have dating for 4 years and plains on proposing but before that happens an old high school friend tries to steal you from Jean but fails badly because you care about Jean more than the friend (can you make the friend Colt, Reiner, or Porco)” 

pairing: jean kirstein x fem! reader

req status: OPEN

you were sitting with Jean, drinking a coffee with Connie and Sasha as they were telling you about how a few of your friends from high school were coming into town, wanting to celebrate one of their birthdays. 

you hadn’t seen Porco, Colt, or Reiner in years. after high school, they all had went to different universities as you and Jean went to the same university, promptly moving in together. while you would have kept in contact, you really didn’t feel a need too as you had all of your closest friends in the same university as you. 

“that’s exciting, what are they planning on doing for Colt’s birthday?” you asked Sasha. she read the message again, “oh, they want to grab dinner or something. I really don’t know as Porco, per usual, hardly specified on the plans,” Sasha explained. 

Jean gave you a look, hoping you denied the plans. both of you were landing on your fourth year together this weekend and he knew this year would be the year he would be proposing to you. Connie had went with him to pick out your ring, reminding himself not to tell Sasha or else her loud mouth would go and tell you by complete accident. 

the four years the both of you spent together were some of the most refreshing years of his life. when you met him your senior year, crushes he had on anyone at that time were completely wiped away. Mikasa? he left her completely to Eren. the girls hitting him up for a random Saturday night adventure were blocked. 

“I mean, Jean and I weren’t planning on anything so I don’t see why not?” you looked over to Jean, whose face dropped a bit. he nodded, not really muttering in agreement but nodding his head yes, “I’ll just text Reiner for the information tonight,” you told Sasha, grabbing your wallet before heading to the cashier to pay for your drink, along with Jean’s. 

“why Colt’s birthday? why did he decide to come here?” Jean complained to the two. Connie laughed, sensing his friends jealousy, “don’t tell me you’re still jealous of their old relationship?” Connie joked.

Jean didn’t say much, confirming Connie’s theory. Sasha couldn’t help but laugh, shaking her head at his ridiculousness. 

“its been four years Jean,” Sasha said, “they probably haven’t spoken since graduation,” Sasha added on. Jean rolled his eyes, “still, they were in that play together and nothing in the world can change my mind that he didn’t have feelings for her,” Jean stated. 

Connie and Sasha groaned, the three of them dropping the topic as you walked back to the table. you motioned to Jean as you put your jacket on, “well, we’re heading home to get ready. Reiner mentioned they were coming down here around nine so we I guess we should be getting ready and all that jazz?” you told the three. 

Connie and Sasha giggled to themselves, taking in Jean’s face as he pulled on his own jacket. you wondered what had them so giggly but decided to drop it, knowing it was some weird thing going on between them. 

you told the two goodbye, grabbing Jean’s hand and intertwining it with yours. “you okay?” you asked, “you’ve been weird since Sasha brought up the thing for Colt’s birthday.” 

Jean shook his head, “I’m fine, just have a small headache,” yeah, that headache was Colt Grice himself. you ran your fingers through his hair, “you can lay down for a while, maybe it’ll go away with some ibuprofen?” you said, “I can run you a warm towel and get in the shower while you’re laying down. if you’re still feeling under the weather, we can just skip his birthday and apologize tomorrow.” 

he could see the concern on your face, laughing to himself about how worried you got about a measly headache. Jean kissed you, telling you not to worry about and that he would be fine by the time the outing came around. 

once you got home, Jean laid down on the couch, taking your warm towel and putting it on until he heard the shower running. he took it off, feeling a bit bad that he lied about having a headache but he just couldn’t stand the fact that you had to be around Colt tonight. a feeling in his gut telling him to watch out for the blond. 

the night rolled around as you spent most of the afternoon finishing your makeup. when Jean saw you walkout of the bathroom with your makeup done, his jaw dropped on the floor. you hadn’t gotten that dressed up in months and if he was being honest, he kinda hated it. 

Jean hated it only because that meant that he hadn’t taken you out properly in months. you were wearing one of your favorite outfits, one he loved because it hugged your curves nicely and your hair was styled the way you always did it when you went out with him. 

“you look amazing babe,” his whispered, bringing you in for a kiss. you smiled, “thanks! figured since we’re actually going out tonight, might as well dress up for you while we’re at it,” you said, giving him a quick kiss before slipping on your shoes and texting Sasha and Reiner that you were both on your way to the restaurant. 

the entire time, Jean held his jean pocket that held the engagement ring. he had no idea why he brought it but in the back of his mind, something had screamed at him to just bring it. Connie every now and again had asked him if he popped the question yet and every time he said no, Connie would scream to him about it. 

the restaurant was a few miles out of town, in a college bar crawl part of town. Jean had been to this area a few times before but he wondered why the boys had picked that part of town since they were no longer freshman. 

you parked right next to where Connie and Sasha were at. the two of them complimenting how nice you looked. Connie looked over to Jean, whispering that you dressed up rather cute for a reunion with Colt. Jean’s eye twitched, knowing he was doing it to get under his skin. 

you found Reiner and Colt in the front waiting for all of you. you instantly hugged Reiner, whispering how much you missed him before you heard a scoff coming from Colt. you released Reiner, giving Colt a smile as he instantly brought you in a hug. 

“hi to you too, Colt,” you laughed, releasing him. you brought Jean over to you, “I’m sure you remember Jean,” you mentioned, squeezing his hand. Colt nodded, giving Jean a simple head nod and redirecting his entire attention to you again. 

Jean could sense this was going to be a long night as all of you walked into the restaurant. you made sure to sit next to Jean and Sasha, making sure that you didn’t leave Jean’s side considering the restaurant was a bit packed. 

+

it was nearing midnight and you could feel yourself getting a bit buzzed with the alcohol you were drinking. you weren’t planning on getting plastered but the two glasses of wine you had was a bit strong and you found yourself laughing more than usual. 

some how, you ended up talking with Colt near the bar as Jean, Reiner, Porco, Connie, and Sasha were all playing pool together. you weren’t really interested in the game and Colt offered to stay by your side, mumbling a sarcastic comment to Jean about how he would take care of you. 

“so, how are you and Jean?” Colt asked randomly. he saw how your eyes lit up at the mention of your boyfriend, “great! we’re about to head into our four year anniversary,” you said excitedly. 

Colt’s eyebrows fluttered in confusion. 

“four years? and still hasn’t proposed to you?” he asked trying not to seem pushy. you shrugged, “it’s fine. I’m not in a rush to get married and neither is Jean. whenever he pops the question, I’ll obviously say yes,” you said a bit dreamily. 

Colt sighed before trying to grab your hand. you gave him a look, wondering what the hell came over the blond as you pushed yourself back a bit. Jean saw the entire interaction happening, letting you deal with it until he felt like you couldn’t anymore. 

“I’m just saying, if you ever wanted.....to you know, give me a try again, I’d always be okay with that,” you didn’t know what to say. giving him a silent response before sighing, “Colt, you’re a great friend but Jean and I really great together and I already told you, our anniversary is close and I don’t hold the feelings I once had for you,” you murmured, finally. 

Colt sighed, not knowing what to say but before he could say anything, Jean walked over to you, knowing you had denied whatever Colt was doing to you as his look of sadness was written all over his face. you gave Jean a sigh of relief, kissing him as if Colt wasn’t even there. 

he took you back to where everyone was, Colt slowly making his way later after trying to get over his rejection. you had kept yourself by Jean’s side for the rest of the night, holding and kissing him, making everyone else gag at how affectionate you were being. 

Jean had wanted to catch a fresh of breath air before spending the final few minutes with everyone else until the bar closed. you agreed to come out with him as you instantly told him what Colt had did earlier and laughing together. you felt a bit bad for laughing at Colt’s expense.

once the laughing died down, Jean looked at you, taking you in under the moonlight and bringing you in for a kiss. you were bit flustered at the way it turned a bit heated but soon, Jean pulled away, caressing your cheek before grabbing something from his pocket. 

“I would have saved this for a different time but it’s been on my mind all day,” he opened the box, showing you the ring as you realized what he was doing. You heard gasps from all of your friends as they were coming out of the restaurant to inform you that it was closing but instead, they watched as Jean knelt down on one knee. 

“I would give you some grand speech but you know that you mean the world to me and making you my wife...the future Mrs.Kirstein would mean even more to me.” 

you smiled, wiping a tear off your face as you nodded and screamed yes. Jean instantly picked you up, spinning you in circles before finally letting you down and putting the ring on your finger. Sasha and Connie ran out the door, Sasha basically knocking you down to the ground as Connie gave Jean a ‘bro’ hug. 

the two of them congratulating you as Reiner and Porco congratulated you afterwards. Colt had saw the entire interaction happen but remained inside, not wanting to see you or Jean. 

you gave Jean a kiss, telling everyone that you both wanted to head out. you knew what Jean had planned as his hands were roaming everywhere on your body with kisses littering your neck and shoulder. Sasha and Connie understood exactly what Jean was doing as Sasha murmured about making sure to not have a kid tonight. 

[littlespoonevan]

would you write a fic about those two idiots talking and resolving the problem before the credit scene? 🥺

I got u, boo <3

Okay so I know it’s likely they didn’t make up at the alibi bc they were still being testy with each other in the kitchen scene when they got home but u know what? I just can’t have them wait that long lmao. So this takes place right after V walks off after giving them a verbal smackdown 

I hope you like it!

*

Mickey shifts in his seat, wincing when his side pulls and pretending he doesn’t once he notices Ian watching him out of the corner of his eye. He reaches for the remaining pot brownie with more bluster than necessary, mostly to make up for how deflated he feels now that they’ve gotten a thorough ass-kicking from V.

“I’m sorry for hitting you,” Ian says and his voice is completely devoid of the tight irritation from earlier. It’s smaller, softer, and Mickey’s not so oblivious to not recognise a peace offering when he sees one.

“It doesn’t matter, man,” he says because it doesn’t. Not really. It’s definitely not the healthiest coping mechanism in the world but he knows no matter how much they’ve grown their upbringing still always clings to the worst parts of them. He stopped keeping score of this shit a long time ago.

“I still shouldn’t have done it; it doesn’t matter how angry I got. I don’t want to do that to you.” Ian’s expression is solemn and Mickey thinks he must’ve learned about this whole talking thing in therapy but then again, Ian’s always pushed them to have the hard conversations – even back when they were teenagers.

He guesses it’s probably time he tried to meet him halfway. “Yeah, well, I’m sorry for pushing earlier,” he says, blowing out a breath and meeting Ian’s gaze head on. What he sees hurts a little bit, if he’s being honest. Because Ian just looks so defeated and, fuck, Mickey knows they’ve been driving each other insane recently so it’s been hard to be objective but he’s starting to think maybe this whole job thing is getting to Ian a hell of a lot more than he realised. “And just- for all of it, alright?”

Ian nods, looking better but still not right.

“…You okay?” he asks.

Ian shrugs and Mickey has to double-take sometimes when he does stuff like that and suddenly looks like his fifteen-year-old self again. He’s known so many versions of Ian Gallagher but the core of him’s never changed; no wonder Mickey’s never been able to let him go.

“Just fuckin’ angry at myself because if things were how they should be I’d have a job with good pay so we wouldn’t even be having this fight in the first place and I’d be helping people.”

And there it is.

Mickey’s always known on some level Ian not being able to get his EMT job back has been an issue. He didn’t know him when he was doing it but he’d seen what Ian was like working in the infirmary when they were inside and it made so much fucking sense he can’t understand how Ian ever considered doing anything else when he was a kid.

“Only one more year of probation,” Mickey reminds him softly, nudging Ian’s foot with his own under the table.

Ian scoffs, staring down at his lap. “They barely wanted to hire me when I was just bipolar. Now I’m a bipolar ex-con; they’re never gonna let me near an ambulance again.”

“Hey, you don’t know that,” Mickey says because nothing good ever comes of Ian giving up. “And in the meantime, I’m pretty sure V’ll be okay with you taking over her role as ghetto nurse.”

Ian huffs a laugh, looking up at him again, and Mickey tries not to look too visibly relieved to see the smile on his face. “Can we not fight anymore?” Ian asks. “I’m sorry I keep pushing, I just-“

“I get it, Ian,” he murmurs, cutting him off. He reaches across the table then, settling his hand over Ian’s. “’m fuckin’ sick of fighting with you too, okay?”

Ian grins at him, turning his hand over beneath Mickey’s to join them together.

“Anyway I think I mighta solved one of our problems,” he adds, feeling suddenly embarrassed at the prospect of telling Ian about the security thing. He knows he fought him the whole way about getting a job and he still doesn’t wanna get stuck in some suffocating nine-to-five but also…he wants to make Ian proud. Marriage has made him such a fucking chump.

“I told Kev and V I could do security for their new weed gig since Kev lasted five fuckin’ minutes before he got robbed.”

Ian barks out a laugh at first but then his expression sobers and he’s looking at Mickey with this stupidly soft smile and saying, “You’d be good at that,” and sounding so fucking affectionate and Mickey’s still not used to this shit.

“Yeah, well, better than him anyway,” he mutters, mouth curving up into a reluctant smile under Ian’s gaze.

“Wanna get out of here?” Ian asks then and Mickey wants nothing more than to walk home with him knowing they’re okay so he nods and lets Ian use their joined hands to pull him up. Once he’s rounded the table Ian immediately drapes his arm over his shoulder and it’s stupid how quickly it makes Mickey relax.

Thankfully, Ian is just as pathetic as him because he’s practically fucking beaming when Mickey finally puts his own arm around his waist.

They call their goodbyes over their shoulder as they leave and Mickey feels a little bit lighter when they step out into the fresh air again.

And he knows they have more to talk about and they probably will have to sit down and have the whole “what we expect of marriage” talk eventually but for right now, they’re okay. So he’s going to walk home with his arm around his husband and remind himself that that, in and of itself, is a fucking miracle and bask in it for all it’s worth.

He thinks Ian probably does the same.

*

[capseycartwright]

but at the cost I payed, I'm pretty sure I got screwed

buck wasn't exactly sure how to process the fact he'd been lied to, his entire life - that his parents had forced maddie to keep such a fundamental part of his past, his life, from him. but - at least he wasn't alone.

or - eight conversations between buck and his true family as he comes to terms with the existence of the brother he never knew he had. set post 4x04

ao3 link

i. albert

Buck had forgotten that Albert would be home, when he managed to stumble through his own front door – breath catching in his chest as he tried to process the bombshell Maddie had just dropped on his life. Maybe – maybe it was rude of him, cruel to forget that he shared his apartment with the younger man, that Albert lived on his couch, but Buck had forgotten, and how he wasn’t sure of a kind way to tell Albert that if he had to have a conversation with another human being, there and then, that he would scream.

And he might not be able to stop screaming.

Albert was looking at him with genuine concern written all over his face, sliding the pan he was using to cook off the hob, so it wouldn’t burn. “Are you okay, Buck?” he asked, and Buck knew he could talk to Albert, and he would try to understand; burdened by his own family issues in ways that would make it easier to admit the insanity of the Buckley family aloud.

But Buck couldn’t.

“That’s kind of a loaded question, Albert,” Buck managed to choke the words out, anxiety clawing at his chest.

Albert inclined his head slightly. “Okay,” he conceded. “Are you well enough to be here, alone – or as alone as you can be with me, here,” he grinned slightly at his own words. “Or do you need me to call someone?”

“I don’t think I know,” Buck admitted, forcing himself to sit at the kitchen table, his blood thundering in his ears as he tried to process everything.

He had a brother. He has a brother – even if that brother wasn’t alive, anymore. Buck had a brother – he wasn’t the only Buckley boy, like he’d believed for so much of his life. For twenty-nine years, he’d thought Maddie was his only sibling, but she wasn’t, and Buck’s entire world felt like it had been spun on its axis and nothing made sense, anymore; but somehow everything made more sense than it ever had before, and he wasn’t sure how to deal with that.

Albert pushed a glass of water toward him, a kind look on his face.

“I don’t think I can talk about it, yet,” Buck admitted, the cool condensation dripping down the side of the glass – a housewarming gift from Hen and Karen, glasses nicer than he’d ever buy himself, if he was being honest – grounding in the way it reminded Buck that he wasn’t dreaming, the glass wet to touch.

“That’s okay,” Albert shrugged. “I can talk, instead, if you want.”

Buck could have cried, with relief. “Yeah, that would be great, Albert.”

Albert grinned. “Okay,” he nodded, moving his pan back onto the hob. “So – I had an online class, today, and one of my classmates, they were clearly not paying attention, but as it turns out, they had taken a series of photos of themselves, and were playing it as a video……..”

Buck forced himself to focus on Albert’s words, his roommate talking about the perfectly mundane happenings of his day, how his online classes went, how their neighbour down the hall still firmly believed he and Buck were a couple, and how its quite sweet, really, because she’s trying her hardest to make sure that they know she accepts them, and she’ll be dropping by a loaf of banana bread, in the morning.

It wasn’t until Albert set a bowl down in front of Buck, a simple pasta dish that made Buck’s stomach growl in acknowledgement of how hungry he was, that Buck spoke, looking at his roommate – his friend – with watery eyes.

“Thank you,” Buck managed to sputter out.

Albert shrugged. “You need to eat,” he said, pushing a fork toward Buck. “My grandmother – she always said that the problems of the world looked a little less daunting, when you looked at them with a full stomach.”

“I don’t just mean for the food,” Buck croaked, though he was grateful for the food – because he wasn’t sure if he had the mental energy to try and make himself dinner, to remember how to cook any of the ingredients that sat in his well-stocked kitchen. “I mean – for taking me out of my head, for a minute.”

Albert smiled, in that endearingly sincere way he always did, Chimney’s brother always one to wear his heart on his sleeve. “What are roommates for?”

ii. bobby

It’s not as though Buck particularly wanted to tell Bobby, about what was going on – but after the incident at the fire, after the way Buck had been acting, he knew he had to, he knew that he had to admit to his boss what was happening. He’d been insufferable to work with, Buck knew, and his boss was owed an explanation.

What Buck hadn’t expected was Bobby’s reaction. It wasn’t – it wasn’t the reaction of a Captain, a professional acknowledgement of a personal trauma that Buck wasn’t able to compartmentalise and leave at home, like he was supposed to, it was the reaction of a friend, Bobby pulling Buck in for a determined, bone-crushing hug.

“I’m so sorry, Buck,” Bobby’s voice was calm, against the sea of static that was buzzing in Buck’s head, something Buck could cling to as he stood, still as a statue, in Bobby’s embrace.

“You didn’t do anything,” Buck found himself saying, confused.

Bobby pulled back, hands on Buck’s shoulders. “I can be sorry, even if I didn’t have a role to play in this,” he said. “Buck, I’m sorry for you as your friend – what your parents hid from you, it was cruel. You didn’t deserve to be lied to like that.”

Buck swallowed his tears, focusing his gaze on one of the photos hanging on the back wall of Bobby’s office. “Their kid died,” he said, voice robotic as he voiced the sentence he’d practiced over, and over. “I can’t blame them.”

“Yes, you can,” Bobby’s voice was fierce. “Buck – I had to bury my own children. That is a pain I will never forget, and one I will live with for the rest of my life. I can’t even begin to describe to you what that grief, the grief of losing a child, feels like, and I hope you never, ever understand it,” he said. “But I have never put the burden of that grief on May, or Harry. Your parents had no right to force you, and Maddie, to bear their grief in the way they did. It was wrong. It is wrong.”

Buck hated how easily he was crying – how easily he’d always been reduced to tears, too soft, too emotional, not enough of a tough guy to please his father. “It was?” his voice was tiny as he spoke, unsure if he could take Bobby’s words at face value. Was Bobby saying that just to placate him? To make it so he could suck it up, and work?

“Yes, Buck,” Bobby’s voice was firm. “It was wrong – and no one in this team is going to begrudge you the time you need to process this. We’re your family, and we’re here for you. Okay? I’m here for you Buck, whatever you need.”

Buck hadn’t been hugged a lot, as a kid – not by his parents, at least. That was a pitifully sad thing to admit, but it was the truth – for all the ways Maddie had been kind, and affectionate, pressing kisses to Buck’s curls and hugging him close, his parents had been cold, and physically distant, never giving Buck more than a pat on the shoulder.

He knew why, now. They looked at him and all they saw was Daniel – all they ever saw was the son who would forever be twelve, frozen in time. They had watched him grow up, and maybe he was tolerable, when he was younger, when he was going through all the same phases that Daniel had – but as soon as Buck had turned thirteen, and lived longer than the brother he didn’t know existed, his parents had kept their distance more, and more, and then Maddie had left, and Buck had been left to crave physical affection, taking that intimacy wherever he could get it, regardless of the impact it had on him, regardless of how it would all leave him feeling even lonelier, when it was over.

But –

Bobby was a dad.

Not his dad –

But someone’s dad.

“Could I…” Buck cut himself off, embarrassed. “Could I have another hug, Bobby?”

Bobby’s eyes were sad, and full of sympathy – but not pity, Buck noted. “Yeah, kid,” Bobby said, pulling him in for a hug, Buck forced to stoop a little, to match Bobby’s height, comfortable in the embrace, this time. “You can have a hug.”

iii. hen

“Hey there, Buckaroo.”

Buck looked up to see Hen approaching him, doughnut in hand.

“You were missing out on the sugar delivery,” Hen explained, hanging him the plate. “So I snagged you your favourite flavour.”

Buck wanted to cry. “You didn’t have to do that, Hen.”

Hen shrugged, sliding down the wall so she was sitting on the concrete next to him, the bright sun of the Los Angeles afternoon beating down on them, the corner they were sitting in slightly secluded, distant from the noise of the firehouse that Buck normally thrived in – just, not today.

“I wanted to,” she said, taking a bite of her own doughnut – cinnamon sugar, Buck noted, her favourite. She’d always been the one to support Buck’s belief that simple was best, when it came to doughnuts, never making fun of Buck’s preference for plain old raspberry jelly flavour; unlike Chimney and the rest of the team, who favoured the hipster doughnut place around the corner from the station, and all the weird flavours they sold.

“Because you feel sorry for me?” Buck found himself asking.

“Because you’re my friend,” Hen corrected, nudging Buck’s knee with her own. “And I can see you’re hurting, Buck, so I wanted to do something nice for you.”

Buck knew he didn’t look the best, rocking up to their shift that morning – his eyes were red raw from crying, because he was in that stage of processing it all, now (Dr. Copeland had assured him that crying was a perfectly healthy trauma response, but Buck was tired of Albert’s quietly concerned looks, because apparently even crying alone in his shower didn’t guarantee privacy in the tiny space they co-existed in.)

He just hadn’t realised he looked that bad.

“I guess you know, then,” Buck murmured, poking at his doughnut. He’d given Bobby permission to tell the team, if he felt it was appropriate – he just hadn’t been able to face the prospect of telling them himself.

“No,” Hen’s voice was firm. “Whatever is going on with you, is your story to tell, Buck. Unless you want to tell me, I have no intention of finding out what is happening.”

Buck shot her a confused look.

“Chimney, he gave me the impression that whatever you’ve found out, is something that was kept from you by the people you love most in the world, and you didn’t have a choice in who found out, because Maddie told him first, and when – and when you got trapped, in that fire, Chimney panicked and told some of the team,” Hen said, explaining what Buck already knew – what Chimney had already desperately apologised for, terrified that Buck’s newfound knowledge of his dead brother had pushed him from resident daredevil to on the verge of suicidal.

Buck didn’t blame him, really.

“I didn’t hear the secret, at the fire,” Hen said. “And I asked Bobby not to tell me. I want you to be able to tell at least one person, on your own terms, if you want to tell me. And if you don’t want to tell me, that’s okay too – I just want you to have the option. I’m happy to be the friend who doesn’t know, if that’s what you need.”

Hen’s sincerity was making Buck want to cry again, his friend looking at him earnestly as she spoke. He knew that if he asked her, Hen would do her best to never find out what Buck’s secret was – Hen was good with secrets – and Buck wasn’t sure how to voice his appreciation out loud in a way that felt appropriate for the magnitude of what Hen was offering him.

Peace.

The power to take control of his own situation.

Buck hadn’t felt in control from the moment he had picked up that photograph of Daniel, and Maddie had admitted who it was, but now, for a second, at least, he felt in control.

“I had a brother,” Buck admitted, hot, angry tears rolling down his cheeks. “I had a brother, and they never told me – they kept him from me. For my whole life, they kept him from me, Hen.”

“Oh, Buck,” Hen’s voice was thick with emotion as she spoke. “I’m so sorry, honey.”

“I know – I know it wouldn’t have change the fact he died, when I was a baby,” Buck continued, managing to talk about it, even just a little, for the first time since he’d found out. “But I deserved to know, Hen.”

“Yes, you did,” Hen was fierce in her agreement. “They had no right to keep his existence from you, Buck.”

“It explains it, you know,” Buck glanced at Hen, the protectiveness that was written all over her face making his heart twist in his chest. “Why they never loved me, not really – I was never Daniel.”

“I’m not even going to pretend to understand your parents,” Hen said, wrapping her arms around Buck’s shoulders, pulling him close, running a hand through his curls, the same way Maddie used to, when he was younger. “But I’ll tell you something for nothing, Buck; I love you. I love you like a brother, and I know its not the same, but I love you. And loving you has been damn easy, from the moment you stepped into this fire station – because you have a heart of goddamn gold, Buck. And your parents inability to see that is not your fault.”

Buck let out a shuddering sigh, leaning into the comforting embrace Hen was offering him. “I’m not sure if I believe you, Hen.”

“That’s okay,” Hen reassured. “I’ll keep reminding you until you do.”

“You will?”

“I will,” Hen confirmed. “Because that’s what family does, Buck. Now – eat your doughnut before we get called out.”

iv. chimney

Buck hated the tentative way that his friend – and teammate, and future brother-in-law, probably – approached him, looking nervous. He hated it – and he hated how he didn’t have it in him to put a stop to it, just yet.

“Hey, Buck,” Chimney greeted.

Buck paused what he was doing, the chrome of the ladder truck already gleaming from the thorough polish he had given it. “Are you here as my sisters boyfriend, Chimney, or my friend?”

“As your friend,” Chimney answered without a second’s hesitation, which Buck had to admit he appreciated.

“Okay,” Buck put the polish down entirely, nodding. “Because I’m not ready to talk to Maddie about this yet.”

“She knows,” Chimney nodded, quiet for a second. “I wanted to talk to you as my friend, Buck, because – and I would walk through fire for your sister – you were my friend before I ever met Maddie, and I don’t want you to forget that. I care about you as more than just my girlfriends brother, Buck, and I’m – I’m sorry this is happening to you.”

Buck didn’t have a reason not to believe Chimney – really, he didn’t. “I’m still angry,” he admitted. “That you knew before I did. You had no right to know before I did, Chim.”

“I know,” Chimney agreed, rocking forward on his heels as he spoke. “I wish I didn’t know, Buck,” he said. “I wish I hadn’t found out before you. I – I said, from the moment I knew, that you deserved to know, but as much as it wasn’t my place to know before you, it wasn’t my place to tell you. It needed to come from Maddie, and your parents.”

Buck nodded. It was true – that it would have been worse to hear it from Chimney, and not Maddie, or his mom and dad. Of all the people to hear it from, Chimney would have been the worst one. It should have come from his parents, really – from the people who’d forced a child, their daughter, to keep their older brother’s existence a secret their entire lives. Maddie had been nine, when she’d been forced to pretend Daniel had never existed. She couldn’t have possibly understood the consequences of their parents refusal to acknowledge that Daniel had been a part of their lives, once.

“I know,” Buck said finally. “I know, Chim. I just – I can’t pretend like I’m feeling all that logical, about all of this. I’m trying – I’m just not there yet.”

Chimney’s expression was genuinely understanding. “You don’t need to be logical about this, Buck,” he shook his head. “You’re entitled to deal with this and grieve – and be angry as hell – in whatever way works best for you. I just – I wanted to know that I’m here for you, that I’m your friend. And if you need to talk to me, I can be your friend – and just your friend, not Maddie’s boyfriend. What we talk about, it stays between me and you, Buck.”

Buck gave Chimney a grateful smile. “Thank you, Chim,” he said, awkwardly wringing his polish rag between his hands, twisting, and pulling, the material taut in his hands. “I just don’t think I’m ready to talk about it with anyone, yet.”

And that was the truth of it –

Buck wasn’t ready to talk about it with anyone, not his friends, not Maddie, not even with his therapist – not yet.

“Then let’s talk about something else,” Chimney said, grabbing another polish rag, smirking at Buck. “Like your terrible polish job.”

Buck glared good-naturedly at Chimney. “I’m not a probie anymore, Chim, don’t start this.”

Chimney whistled cheerfully as he started to polish, grinning. “You’ll always be a probie to me, Buckaroo.”

v. athena

Buck hadn’t seen Athena in a while – their calls didn’t actually crossover, all that much, so it wasn’t all that unusual to have not seen her in a few weeks. A part of Buck was glad – and not because he didn’t love Athena, but he wasn’t sure if he could cope with seeing the anger she carried on his behalf in person. Buck didn’t like when other people felt burdened by his issues.

“Buck.”

Buck paused, halfway back to the truck. He couldn’t exactly ignore his Captain’s wife – or anyone, for that matter. Maddie (Maddie, always Maddie, not their parents) had raised him better than that, had raised him to be polite. “Hi, Athena.”

“I know you’re not ready to talk about it,” Athena said, hands on hips, stance fierce and protective and everything Buck never had in a mother. He was glad, May and Harry had her, at least. “But I wanted you to know – parents shouldn’t lie to their children the ways yours have lied to you. It’s cruel, and I’m sorry it happened to you, Buck.”

Buck didn’t quite know what to say. “Uh – thank you?”

“I’m not trying to overstep,” Athena raised her hands in surrender. “I’m not your mother. I’m your friend, though, Buck – and I’m someone’s mom, and I can’t stand the thought of you thinking that your parents did all this out of some twisted sense of protection for you, and Maddie. Parents – however hard – should teach you how to grieve. Not teach you to be invisible as a punishment for something you never knew happened.”

Buck nodded, shaking hands gripping tightly to his halogen. “You’re a great mom, Athena,” he said quietly.

“And you’re a great man, Evan Buckley,” Athena gave his elbow a squeeze. “I just thought you should hear that from someone today.”

vi. christopher

Buck had an armful of Christopher the second he walked through the front door of the Diaz household, the little boy flying at him, crutches and all. “Oh, hey, buddy,” Buck laughed, easily scooping a wriggling Christopher up, easing his crutches off of his arms so he could hug him properly.

“I’m glad you’re here, Buck!” Christopher said, grinning widely at Buck, his new braces glinting in the soft light of the evening, reminding Buck of how grown up the kid in his arms was getting – on the cusp of his teenage years, all too soon.

“I’m glad I’m here too, buddy,” Buck replied, holding Christopher close. He wasn’t even the kids dad – and he couldn’t imagine ever lying to him, like his parents had to him, couldn’t imagine doing anything except loving the little boy with everything he had.

“Dad said you’ve had a bad week,” Christopher said matter-of-factly. “So we have a surprise for you.”

“Oh, you do?” Buck gave Christopher a watery smile, flashing Eddie a confused look.

Eddie raised his hands in surrender. “It was all this guy,” he said proudly. “I just did the driving.”

Buck laughed, looking back at Christopher. “Where are we going, then?”

“Kitchen!”

Tossing a giggling Christopher over his shoulder, Buck made his way to the kitchen, Christopher chatting excitedly as he moved. Buck felt like he was going to cry – really, properly cry – when he spotted the feast of all of his favourite things on the Diaz kitchen table.

“We got all your favourites!” Christopher explained. “Popcorn, and chocolate – and pizza! And we’re going to watch Inside Out, because its your favourite film, and me and dad, we’re going to make sure you feel better, Buck.”

Buck wiped roughly at his eyes. This kid. “I already feel better, buddy.”

Christopher’s brow was furrowed. “But you’re crying.”

“People can cry when they’re happy, Chris,” Eddie explained, running a soothing hand down Buck’s back. “It doesn’t always mean someone is sad.”

“Your dad is right,” Buck confirmed. “I’m crying because I’m happy – and I’m very grateful to have such a thoughtful kid taking care of me.”

Christopher grinned again, patting a sticky hand against Buck’s cheek. “You’re gonna be o-kay, kid,” he beamed, and for the first time, Buck almost believed it.

vii. eddie

“He’s out like a light,” Buck said softly, half closing the porch door behind them – enough that they wouldn’t wake Christopher, with their conversation, but still open enough that they’d be able to hear if Christopher woke up in the night.

Christopher had insisted on Buck being the one to put him to bed, that night, despite how hard Eddie tried to get Christopher to give Buck a break – but Buck had enjoyed the routine of it all, if he was being honest, Christopher’s happy snorts as Buck (badly) danced around the bathroom while Christopher brushed his teeth making him forget the car-wreck his life was for a few minutes, at least.

Eddie nodded, nudging a beer toward Buck. “You spoil him, you know,” he said, not a hint of annoyance in his voice. “I know you read him two chapters of his book, not one.”

Buck hummed gratefully. “I know,” he said, voice dropping. “Kids deserve to be spoiled, a bit at least.”

“How are you doing Buck? Really?” Eddie asked, and Buck felt a dam inside him break – he’d kept everything he was feeling so bottled up, for so long, and all of a sudden, on his best friends back porch, it all came pouring out, tears cascading down his cheeks.

“I had a brother,” Buck hiccupped out, bordering on hysterical as he cried, Eddie moving quickly so he was crouching in front of Buck, soothing hands on Buck’s knees. “I had a brother, Eddie.”

Eddie’s face was twisted, a mixture of heartbreak and sympathy. “I know, Buck,” he soothed softly, gentle hands wiping at Buck’s tears, taking Buck’s hands in his own, grounding Buck in the new reality he had found himself in, the past few weeks – a world where he was suddenly the youngest of three siblings, the third Buckley, not the second.

“I always wanted a brother,” Buck admitted out-loud for the first time, unable to stop his tears, gripping tightly to Eddie’s hands. “I love – I love Maddie, but I always wanted a brother, too, and I had one, and I didn’t know, and I can’t stop thinking about how different life might have been if he was still around. He was ten years older than me.”

Eddie was quiet.

“His name was Daniel,” Buck said, shakily voicing his brothers name out-loud for the first time to someone other than maybe. “His name was Daniel, and he was ten years older than me, and I’d have been a really good brother to him, and that’s all I know, and I just – I wish I knew more.”

“You know,” Eddie’s voice was soft, and reassuring, comforting and grounding in ways that Buck wasn’t sure how he ever lived without before, his best friend the kind of anchor Buck needed, in his life. “I bet Maddie knows more.”

“Eddie….”

“I know it hurts,” Eddie squeezed Buck’s hands, his expression encouraging as Buck forced himself to look at the older man. “And it’s going to hurt for a long time, Buck, and I’m sorry for that – but you’re not alone in that hurt. Me, Chris, Hen – the others – we’re here, and we love you, and we’ll do our best to understand, but there’s one person in the world that shares this hurt with you.”

“But she knew, Eddie, she knew all along, and she didn’t tell me – and I know she was a kid and it wasn’t her fault, but it still hurts, because she got to know him and grieve him, and I didn’t.”

“Did she?” Eddie countered, wise as ever now he went to regular therapy. “She had to pretend he didn’t exist. To grieve properly – you need to talk about the person, about who they were, and Maddie didn’t get to do that. As much as she can help you get to know who Daniel was, you can help her grieve the brother she wasn’t allowed to remember. I can’t help you do that.”

Buck tightened his grip on Eddie’s hands. “I can’t, not yet,” he admitted hoarsely. “Not tonight.”

“No,” Eddie hummed his agreement. “Tonight its just you and me, and the rest of these beers, and as much crying as you want. Okay?”

Buck laughed. Back when he first met Eddie, he could never have imagined their friendship getting to this point – to where they could sit, and talk, and drink and cry together. Somehow, somewhere along the way, they’d created this safe space, together, and Buck had never been more grateful for his best friend than he was, there and then.

He had a brother.

And tonight – tonight was the first time he’d said that out loud and hadn’t felt bitter, and angry, about it. Tonight had been the first time he’d said those words out loud and wondered who the person was, who Daniel had been – instead of focusing on the lies, the hurt of it all.

That was progress.

Swallowing thickly, Buck wiped at his sore eyes. “Tell me something I don’t know,” he directed his question at Eddie.

“Anything?” Eddie’s lips quirked up in the beginnings of a smile.

“Anything,” Buck confirmed.

Eddie grinned. “Did you know - nearly three percent of the ice in Antarctic glaciers is penguin urine?”

Buck snorted, the sound outrageously loud in the quiet of the evening. “I don’t want to know how you know that.”

(He knew – of course he knew. Eddie was the only person who knew exactly how to bring Buck out of his own head, with odd facts and quirky news articles, anything to distract Buck from the overwhelming noise of his own thoughts).

Eddie took a swig of his beer, smiling contently. “You’re not the only one who can know weird things.”

viii. maddie

When she opened the door, Maddie greeted Buck with a relief he didn’t feel deserving to be on the receiving end of.

“I’m sorry, Maddie.”

“No,” Maddie interrupted, pulling him close, clinging tightly to his shoulders, refusing to let her pregnant belly be an obstacle to squeezing the life out of Buck – and he couldn’t say he was opposed to a bone-crushing hug from his sister. “You don’t need to apologise, Buck, not to me – not about this. I should be apologising to you.”

Buck pressed his face into the material of Maddie’s cardigan, breathing in the familiar scent of her perfume. She’d worn the same one since she was a teenager, and in the years when they weren’t in contact, Buck – well, he’d sometimes go to the perfume section of the department store, and sneak a sample, desperate to feel close to his sister, even if Doug had long since cut her off from him.

“I can’t hear you,” Maddie admitted, her voice soft as she ran a gentle hand through Buck’s hair.

“I said,” Buck pulled back slightly, Maddie’s tears reflecting his own. “I know we’ve got a lot to talk about – but uh, Maddie, will you tell me about him?”

Maddie brushed away a few stray tears of Buck’s before they had the chance to drip from his chin, nodding. “I’d really like that,” she confirmed, tugging Buck toward the couch. Her baby box was still on the coffee table, a photograph of Daniel – the same one Buck had found – propped up against the wood, another one next to it.

Of the three of them.

Buck looked as though he couldn’t be more than a few weeks old, in the photograph, Maddie proudly holding him in her arms, a little boy who was familiar, in so many ways, hair blond and bright like Buck’s had been, as a child – and unfamiliar in so many others, a kid who would forever be twelve years old.

“Is that us?” Buck asked, doing his best to fold his long limbs, curling himself up against Maddie, thinking back to when they were kids, and all the evenings they’d do the same – Buck curled up in her lap as they watched TV, or as Maddie soothed his tears after a fight with their parents. Her belly got in the way, a bit, and a part of Buck’s heart ached with the knowledge that someone else, his niece, would curl up in Maddie’s lap the same way he used to, in just a matter of months, but he pushed the thought aside.

“I told everyone you were my baby,” Maddie said, sounding like she was smiling. “Oh, I loved you so much from the moment you were born, Buck, and I wouldn’t let Daniel go near you – because you were mine.”

Buck didn’t try and stop his tears, now.

“He loved you just as much,” Maddie continued. “He would tell dad, how excited he was to be able to teach you to play soccer, one day, and ride a bike.”

All the things Maddie had taught him, in the end, Buck thought to himself.

“He picked your middle name,” Maddie continued. “Because he had a best friend called EJ, and he told mom and dad that you should have the same initials – Evan James - because you were going to be his new best friend.”

Closing his eyes, Buck let Maddie’s words wash over him, painting a picture of someone he would never have the chance to know – but loved, Buck thought, all the same, because Daniel couldn’t have known, how life would turn out without him, because he had only been a kid, when he died – and he wouldn’t have understood.

“He’d be proud of you, I think,” Maddie said quietly, pressing a kiss to Buck’s curls. “Because I am, Buck, I am so proud of you. You are not a disappointment. You are the greatest man I have ever known and I am so proud of you, and I love you, and I’ll tell everyone the same thing I told them when I was eight and I held you for the first time. You’re mine, Buck, not theirs.”

Buck nodded, not trusting himself to open his eyes. “I love you, Maddie.”

“I love you, little brother,” Maddie sounded like she was crying too, now. “We’re going to be okay.”

Buck –

Well, he didn’t have a reason not to believe his sister.

He wanted to believe her.

And maybe –

Just maybe.

He already did.

Yeah.

They would be okay.

[unstoppableforcce]

marked in red pen

CHAPTER ONE: a cold morning

pairing: Javier Peña x journalist!f! reader

next part | masterlist

she’s lengthy, something like 5k :))

a/n: well, I wrote this during my break, I don’t know if I got better or I got worse but I wrote it! it’s good to be back writing and I really like this idea and can’t wait to keep going !!

He didn’t remember how to live in a city that wasn’t in Colombia. 

The echo around the small staff parking lot clearly came from a car backfiring, yet his mind immediately jumped to a gunshot, like all the ones he had fired and all the ones that had been fired back at him. As his dress shoes stepped out onto the loose and dusty asphalt of the lot, the fresh morning breeze froze him with the shocking chill of winter, yet it was the distinct sound of the car backfiring that woke him up the rest of his way out of his self-induced hangover. 

It sounded like a gunshot. 

It was nearly 8 in the morning on a regular old Monday in Austin, yet he jumped like the sound had echoed around a small Colombian alleyway where Carrillo was holding an army of young boys on their knees. And with the haunting noise came the onslaught of painful memories whether he recognized the reality of the situation or not, the same wave of emotions that used to keep him up in an empty bed back in Bogota now crashing over him as he leaned against the side of his car with a bag of papers over his shoulder instead of a gun on his hip. He could feel the guilt tearing him apart from the inside out, he could feel the weight of his conscious settling heavy in his gut and on his shoulders, pulling him to the ground and exacerbating the very real pain in his back with a phantom pull. 

Each breath of freezing air in and out did little to calm him even as he fought his own mind back towards some semblance of composure while his colleagues exited their cars around him and began walking in towards campus. His lungs burned with the fresh assault of the winter chill while also aching for the burn of something stronger, for one of the straggling cigarettes he was sure he could find in the car despite having quit nearly a year ago when he got back. 

Back to the States, back to Texas and now back to Austin. 

Another round of deep breaths and he slowly began to regain a hint of himself back, he wasn’t sure what that was worth but breath after breath, as the memories that were somewhat of a constant fixture in his damaged mind began to fade back into their quiet lingering in the back of his mind, he slowly found himself back in the staff parking lot. His vision was still faded at the edges, but he could muster up enough strength in his chest to look down to his watch, the nice, new, expensive one that the DEA had given him as a parting present. The edges of the cold metal dug uncomfortably into the skin of his wrist, and every shift he made pinched the hair of his arm within the metal brackets of the band, but the crystal face did what it was designed to do and told him that it was no longer just nearly 8 in the morning, it was exactly 8 in the morning. 

And his lecture started in ten minutes. 

It wasn’t even a gunshot, it was a sound that vaguely resembled a gunshot and three minutes had to pass before he could stand up straight again. 

What is wrong with me? He cursed close to his chest as his freezing, trembling hands moved to rub over his eyes before adjusting the strap of his bag securely on his shoulder. Whatever he was feeling didn’t matter, he had to lock his car and get to class. 

The ghost town like campus he crossed to get to his lecture hall was a fair preparation for what was in store for him when he walked in, just a minute before he was obligated to begin lecturing. The students who had the decency to show up were scarce and separate across the 60 person lecture hall, maybe filling up about a third of the seats if he was being favorable in his estimates. It wasn’t a surprise, not only had it been exactly the same for the majority of his first semester teaching, but on day one of this current semester, when he announced that attendance wasn’t mandatory, he was quickly interrupted by one student packing up and leaving on the spot, before the syllabus was even fully covered. 

The twenty or so students he did get were always the same. He was bad at learning names, but it was the second week of classes and he had their faces, he had always been better with faces. Whether it was sitting for hours on stakeouts mentally cataloging every face that passed while Steve took diligent photos for them to search through later or keeping track of the students who regularly showed up for his lectures, he was good with faces. 

It was why he knew that you didn’t belong the second he dropped his bag to the desk, pulled out a stack of papers, and lifted his head to say ‘good morning’ only to find a brand new face sat in the back row of his desolate and moderately dilapidated lecture hall. 

His head immediately went into a downward spiral, considering and subsequently crossing out theory after theory as to who you were, immersed among his students, yet too old and too put-together to be one of them. While they couldn’t care less that he walked in the room to begin lecturing, you were actually paying attention, following him as he pulled out his good pen and lecture notes, still following him as he turned to the board to begin writing only to turn back to grab chalk from his bag when he found none at the board. He only made eye contact with you once, the first time he caught sight of you, but he was trained for this sort of thing, for feeling a pair of eyes staying attached to him even as he turned his back or looked away, and it stuck with him as well as all the haunting memories. 

Were you auditing the class? Surely he would have been told to expect you or at the very least, he would recognize you as another member of his department, but you weren’t, so clearly that wasn’t the case. Maybe you were lost? But then again, with the way your stare locked to him the second he walked in, that also wasn’t the case at hand. A grad student with questions? A desperate TA looking for a job and hoping he was given the budget to hire one? Even those felt like a stretch, besides, he had office hours posted on the wall outside his office and in the department catalog, any student would just find him then. 

That left him with one remaining, yet exhaustedly confusing option. You weren’t a student, you weren’t associated with the university at all. 

What did that mean for why you were there? He couldn’t say. 

He glanced back down to his watch and sucked in a deep breath of the stale, warm air of the room, and resigned himself to the fact that it was now twelve minutes after the hour. He had to start class, whoever you were was a problem for him once class was finished.

“Good morning…” He exhaled the heavy breath and paced toward the middle of the space allotted for him to lecture in, chalk in one hand and slowly loosening fist in the other which came up to rub over the top of his mustache as he cleared his throat. “I have your short answer questions back from last week, but I’ll have you come get them after class so that I can start talking about today’s topic of government oversight…” 

By the half hour mark, as expected, a handful of students were beginning to doze off while he outlined the exemptions to the Freedom of Information act. But not you in the back of the class, leaned back in your seat with your hands in your lap, diligently following along while even his students who tried to take notes were falling behind as yawns overtook them. 

That was the way it continued for the rest of the hour as well. By the time the hands beneath the crystal of his watch face where clicking softly towards the nine o'clock hour and the distant chimes of the clock tower out in the courtyard rang out, his students were only awake because he was calling out their names, attempting to pass back their short answer responses from last Monday’s lecture. Each one who grabbed their paper took it, stuffed it into their bag, and cleared from the room about as fast as they were likely to move if they were fleeing a fire, like his lectures were somehow as disastrous an equivalent. 

Some had the decency to say a quick ‘thank you’ before leaving at a normal pace, but it was a minority of students at best. Thankfully, having less students in lecture meant having less to pass back, the rest of the students would just have to come get them during office hours. 

That left him with just you in the large and empty lecture hall. The mysterious you. 

“Can I help you with something?” He voiced once the final student took their paper and left the room. 

He turned back to his desk, sticking the stack back in his bag as he heard you descending the lecture hall stairs behind him, but within seconds, as he moved to put his pen away alongside his lecture notes, you were in front of him, extending your hand and introducing yourself. 

Your smile confirmed what he was already sure he knew, you were no student. The last time a student smiled in this room was when he said that his tests would be relatively easy on the first day of class while he was going over the syllabus, and yours was too mature to paint you as a student, too warm as it filled the emptiness of the stale air. 

Still, that left him with nothing else to go off of as he took you hand for a firm, respectful shake and offered his name in return, “Javier Peña.”

Then you finished your introduction and any breath of fresh air you had offered to the stagnant room fell as flat as his monotone voice did while he lectured. 

“I’m a reporter with the Austin Statesman.” 

There was no hiding his distaste for journalists, so why even bother. It had been bred into him long before he ever got involved with the DEA but ever since returning to the states, it had grown more and more like hatred instead of distaste if he was being honest.

He was hounded by calls from reporters across the country wanting him to talk about Escobar and Colombia and what it was all like, just so they could put his face on the front page under a headline that read ‘Escobar’ and reap the benefits of selling his soul out for entertainment. A reporter even had the audacity to show up at his father’s house trying to ask him questions about what he thought of the whole thing. 

So when the scoff bubbled out of his chest and his hand singed from where he held yours, he made no attempt to hide it. He pulled his hand away, rolled his eyes and finished filling his bag, able to keep his stare from your form for the first time since he had noticed you, he wanted you to be the furthest thing from his mind even as you moved to maintain his attention. 

“You won’t even hear me out?” 

He could hear the amusement in your voice as you fought back, and as he spared a quick glance back to you, he found your stood steady across from him, hands holding the strap of your messenger bag which crossed your chest with a steady kind of confidence settling in your shoulders. It was smugness, and for a man who had spent his entire career surrounded by the most smug men imaginable, government men, he had to say, you were doing a fine job of it yourself. 

He hated it. It might have looked better on you than it ever did the men in suits that surrounded him, but he still hated it. 

“I’m not interested.” He spoke as a matter of fact as he collected the last of his things, put his bag back on his shoulder and moved passed you towards the door his students had just left through. 

But it had been naïve to think that the dedication that led you to sit through his entire lecture would suddenly evaporate as he moved out into the hall now bustling with students moving to their next classes. With one glance over his shoulder, he found you matching his intensity to get away with your intensity to keep up. 

And as he burst through the outside doors, he found you going step for step with him out into the cold breeze of the courtyard filled with students crossing in every direction. 

“You don’t even know why I’m here,” you spoke up as he seemed to only move faster, fighting you as much as he was fighting for warmth in the freezing winter morning. 

“You’re a reporter for the Austin paper, I think I’ve got a pretty good idea.”

With another glance back over his shoulder, his stare landed on you in the exact moment your eyes gave a subtle roll and a scoff, equally as indignant as his own had been, fell from your wind-chapped lips. Lips he had absolutely no business looking at, he reminded himself as he turned his head back to the hoard of sleep-deprived students around him with no plans to stop for you to catch up. Not until his feet hit the dampened grass in the middle of the courtyard and he felt a hand grab the loose fabric where his suit jacket bunched at the bend of his elbow. 

He was stopped where he stood and you quickly moved around him to come face to face with him, brow firm with a determination he was all too familiar with. It wasn’t just stubbornness, he could see that much clearer now as the gentle rays of sun cut through the grey morning clouds to illuminate your face, it was absolute determination. 

The same determination that caught him Escobar. 

“I’m sure I’m not the first to come with this offer but it’s not what you think,” you huffed, the exhausted breath hot as it fled your lips but quickly condensing in the icy air between the two of you as you settled in front of him.

The cold was biting at your bare face and attacking your fingertips, forcing a desperate clench to your fists around the strap of your back across your chest as you, very subtly but easily noticed by his careful watching eye, bounced on your toes while you held his attention and continued, “I’m not interested in writing some glorified Escobar tell-all.”

Another chilly breeze whipped through the courtyard as the students around the two of you continued streaming, flowing like diligent fish in a school, into the surrounding buildings in a blur. One by one they passed by in his peripheral, but with his breath holding stale in his throat, he truly only saw you and each individual edge to your face, as equally stern in its seriousness as soft in its sincerity.

Every painful memory that haunted his head told him to keep his mouth shut and his brow furrowed, but his gut said something else entirely. 

His gut had gotten him through fire and fury and home in mostly one piece every night, and as he looked at you, scanning your disposition and lingering on your focused face, his gut was telling him that he could trust you at your word. It wasn’t his heart, or any other muscle in his body as his stare held heavy on your face, it truly was his gut. And he trusted his gut.

Fuck… he was itching for a cigarette. 

“What do you have an… interest in?” He sucked his lip briefly through his teeth as his hand mindlessly reached for his mustache again, his freezing fingertips pushing it down as he moved to rub over his lips.

“Right now?” You quirked your head a little to the side, your shoulders raising to your ears slightly. “To be having this conversation in a heated building?”

The scoff that fell out of his chest was admitably slightly hostile, but the gentle nod of his head was not. Within the second it left his lips, he found himself continuing his walk towards the old office building ahead and you trailing right behind him, a smugness still settled comfortably on your lips.

He even did better than a warm building.

As he left you in his office for a brief second to grab himself a cup of coffee, he found a clean extra mug and poured you a fresh cup as well. Your ‘thanks’ was quiet as you accepted it, and as he settled down in his seat behind his desk, he drew you back from where you stood by the back wall, casually studying his diplomas and book shelf.

“If not an Escobar entertainment piece, what did you have in mind?”

He pulled you back to reality and after you stole a sip of your coffee, you settled into the seat across from him. “My editor wants a promotable local to put in a headline and I promised you, it doesn't really matter what I write about as long as your name is in big print above the fold.”

He laughed. A real laugh. He barely remembered what it felt like but as soon as it started, he knew it was a genuine laugh.

It was funny, ironic actually, you couldn’t see that, obvious by the twist of your face in confusion, but it was all he could see.

It was the kind of shit he would have pulled when he was younger, more dedicated to his position, and as driven as you were. Doing the most you could in the way you wanted while still technically doing as you were told, it was damn near poetic. 

“He won’t mind if you don’t mention Escobar?” He countered, feeling warmth spark in his chest as his coffee burned down his throat with a deep swallow. 

But you just shrugged, doing the same. “She just wants to sell papers, won’t mind if readers don’t necessarily find the entertainment they expect.”

“And what will they find?” Relaxing back in his seat, holding his coffee close to his chest, he watched as you did the same, reclining into the uncomfortable wooden chair with one leg uncrossed from the other. 

“I’ll write whatever you want me to write. I mean, it should at least be slightly relevant to Colombia but if you just want to say ‘hey, I was there and now I’m here, teaching at my alma mater,’ I’m sure I can manage something like that.”

He scoffed again, but this time, it echoed out of his chest much more like a chuckle than like a scoff, no heat, no annoyance, nothing more than a small hint of amusement, something he hadn’t felt rattle around his chest in a long time. Too long… And he knew why that was. 

He knew why he tried to get away from you the second you showed up, and while some of it definitely had to do with the press badge lanyard hanging out of your bag where it was sat next to your feet, a lot of it had to do with the determination he saw in your brow in the first second after he blew you off. It was something he could find himself too easily attracted to, and that wasn’t what he deserved. 

He deserved cold mornings and colder nights, kept awake by the aggressive, tormenting nightmares of his own reality, not warm coffee and laughs. Whatever this was, whatever it had the potential to be, even if it were to just be you writing a piece with his name and his story, it just wouldn’t work. 

Any gut feeling about you was trampled by the solid the solid reality of the matter. He didn’t deserve it and he knew that. 

“I’m afraid I’m not very good at talking about myself, or Colombia, or anything that would make a story, so…” He trailed off, trying to keep his eyes anywhere but where your lingering stare could find it, specifically, the deep dark color of the coffee in his cup while the bitter taste sat heavy in his mouth. But the words he needed to get out, those were much worse settling on his tongue. “I’m sorry, I just don’t think it will work.”

As his hand reached up to rub absentmindedly over his nose and mouth again, his stare hesitantly lifted to yours, trying to get a read on where you were at, but your smug smirk had yet to vacate your lips where you leaned back in your seat. 

“I’m a pretty good writer, Agent Peña,” you argued. 

“I have no trouble believing that, but I’m not good at this, I can’t—”

He couldn't even get the words out before you were leaning forward to leave your mug on his desk and bending down for your bag. His mouth opened to sputter out some defense, but you hadn’t left yet, you had just pulled a small business card from the side pocket of your bag and put it into his hand, and when he looked from the two phone numbers that followed your name and title at the Statesman, he found the smug look had softened on your face but hadn’t dissipated entirely. 

“There’s actually a protest happening across campus right now, so I’ve got to get going…” you trailed off with a shrug. 

“You double-booked me?”

With a laugh, you grabbed your bag and tossed it effortlessly over your shoulder and gave another brief shrug, “The job keeps me pretty busy and I figured I would already be on campus, so.”

He stood to match your height and extended a hand for you to shake as another apology spilled from his lips, “I’m sorry I couldn’t be that headline for your boss.”

“So you say.”

“Excuse me?” His head quirked as your hand took his with a shake equally as firm in it’s determination as your brow was. 

“I was embedded overseas, I know the look,” you shrugged, much to casual for what you were implying as you dropped his hand and stepped back towards the shut office door. “Call any time, if you don’t get me, you’ll get my assistant and she can track me down.”

Looking down at the card, twirling the sharp edges of the card stock between his fingers, he was stuck, knowing something needed to be said on his end but not capable of finding the words.

You weren’t done yet though, “Any hour. Whether you want to talk about the piece I’m going to write or, I don’t know, maybe how to keep your students awake during lecture. Just, call anytime.”

His head twisted as confusion over took him, "The piece you’re going to write? I just said—”

“I heard what you said.” Your smile was truly genuine as it found your lips, erasing any hint of mocking smugness as you held the doorknob and lingered in his doorway. “I’ll be awaiting your call.”

But that wasn’t your final line, not as you held in the doorway and pointed towards his diplomas, specifically towards the University of Texas diploma closest to the door. “You know, I’ve got one of these too.”

“A lot of people do...” he sighed, settling back in his chair with a huff of exhaustion much to heavy for the hour of the morning that read on his uncomfortable watch.

But as his stare drifted back to you in the doorway, having expected you to have already left but finding you still lingering, he saw something else in the way you looked back to him. Something he had been hard pressed to find ever since he got back, something he certainly hadn’t found in the eyes of any other reporters that had stopped by.

It was understanding to some degree. Not just because the two of you shared an alma mater, but something else. Like you had said, you knew his look.

He thought you had just meant that you knew plenty of men who didn’t like to talk about their feelings but that wasn’t what you were getting at. There was something else there, another layer that you saw through, another level of understanding.

Maybe he was hallucinating it, or maybe his gut was right from the first moment he saw you. He could truly trust you at your word.

“Seriously, any hour,” you smirked one last time before your hand offered a brief wave and you disappeared through the doorway, out into the hall.

It should have been simple. 

He knew where he stood when it came to selling his story for entertainment, he knew it was wrong and he knew he wanted nothing to do with any reporter. Yet, your card stayed twirling in his hand for longer than it should have, and instead of it finding it’s way to the bottom of his wastebin, it found a safe home in the top drawer of his desk. 

For a rainy day. He told himself, he never knew when he might need a trustworthy reporter... 

He found his answer at the end of that week. 

Work stress was nothing new to him, but with that piled on top of the boredom that came with reading essays and the combined stress of trying to limit his drinking and stay a non-smoker, he was sinking. He hadn’t had a drink all week, he was being good, like he promised his doctor but... but fuck, he needed one now. 

But instead of finding a whisky bottle in the first desk drawer he opened, he found your business card. 

It should have been simple. The problem was that Javier Peña had never been very good at simple. 

You sounded positively exhausted as you picked up on the other end with a practiced repetition of your last name and position at the paper, but as he reintroduced himself, the harsh cut of your words seemed to roll back on your tongue as the same smug disposition you wore on your face carried through the phone. 

“I knew you’d call...”

His laugh was as exhausted as yours was, and even as every fiber of his rational mind was screaming that he was making a mistake, he licked over his bottom lip, reclined in his desk chair and kept talking. “Is it out of line to ask you out for a drink?”

There was a brief moment of silence as the rustling of your notepads and papers in the background stopped, and he truly feared he was overstepping the professional boundary you had approached him with. 

“Only if I let you buy mine for me,” you shot back, wearing a smirk on your lips that he could hear through the phone. “Meet me at sixth and Congress in twenty minutes?”

“Yeah, I can do that.”

It was a mistake, but even knowing that, he stood up from his desk, loosened his tie and undid the first few buttons of his shirt before heading out to meet you. 

He had made worse mistakes. 

—

tags! (open)

@imananxiousdriver @kaetastic @revolution-starter @littlevodika​

[jimlingss]

Sugar and Coffee [8]

Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9

➜ Words: 3.3k

➜ Genres: 99.5% Fluff, 0.5% Angst, Pâtisserie school!AU

➜ Summary: It isn't hard to be a pâtisserie chef, but it's not a piece of cake either. It seems like for you in particular, life keeps throwing in one wrench after another. It always finds ways to make your sweets bitter. The cherry on top is Jeon Jungkook — a rival with a sensitive sweet tooth who always finds ways to complain about you.

cr.

You always thought you would be happy to see him again.   To come face to face with the man who you miss the most — who you’ve yearned to see so much. Like reuniting with a close friend who you’ve lost contact with. Like rediscovering a piece of yourself that you had lost.   But you didn’t know it would be so painful. That your heart would be so heavy.   “H-hey.”   “Hey.” Seokjin smiles and your heart stutters but then constricts. It’s hard to breathe. “Are you on your way to class?”   You hold your books closer to your chest as if they could do anything to protect you. Your eyes sweeping over his features, trying to freshen your memories of him. You can’t recall the last time you heard the sound of his voice. “Y-Yeah. Are you?”   “I’m on my way to the library to meet up with some people for a group project,” he says casually with a good-natured smile.   “Oh. A group project already?”   “Yeah, I know right.” Jin sighs lightly, lips falling into a slight pout. “Well it’s my last ever semester, so it’s the last push.”   “Totally. I...get it.”   “I should go now before I’m late. It was nice seeing you, Y/N.”   You nod and without waiting a beat, he brushes past you, continuing down the hall.   You hate it. The way he looked at you, talked to you so nonchalantly, how he didn’t even blink thrice. Jin was friendly, but you know him — and he treated you the way he treats strangers. There weren't any softened gazes, gentle words. None of his actions had a trace of lingering feelings. His polite smile is the same one that’s reserved for mere acquaintances. Distant.   You’re no less than a stranger to him.   And as you watch Jin’s backside fading down the corridor, you quickly wipe away the tears that shed down your cheeks.   //   “You ran into him?”   You nod, toying with the hem of your sweater.   “That’s great news,” Jungkook murmurs from the corner of his mouth, preoccupied with choosing a game.   “Yeah, I know, right?” You're stiff, but he doesn't pay enough attention to notice.   You’re sitting on the floor of Jungkook’s dorm room, knees gathered together as you watch him set up. He’s finally cleaned up after you insulted him that he was a pig living in a pigsty, and he was offended enough to clean up after himself and do his laundry.   Jungkook switches on his PS4 and flops down on his small couch with the controller. He glances up at you when there’s ongoing silence and realizes he should say something more.   “That means there’s hope, right? If he’s willing to talk to you and all. I know a lot of exes who would run in the other direction.”   “Yeah. That’s true, I guess.”   Jungkook is optimistic. “If you keep talking to him, who knows, you might get back together before you even realize.”   There’s a loud knock on the door, someone’s fist banging on the surface. The boy in his gray sweatpants and black, boxy shirt sighs, gets up and opens the door. The person on the other side glares at him. “Dude, about fucking time. Was standing out there for an eternity.”   “Shut up, I literally took ten seconds.”   “Yea, but ten seconds we could’ve used playing. Hey, Y/N!” Hoseok grins, plopping down on the couch and stealing Jungkook’s controller. Jimin follows in, greeting you with a smile, and Taehyung and Yoongi are the last with the former harshly nudging the latter forward.   “Alright, alright,” Yoongi grunts quietly and then faces you with his hands dug into his hoodie pocket. “Y/N. I wanted to apologize for my behaviour last time.” He looks less sorry and more disgruntled and reluctant, but it’s enough to amuse you.   You snort. “It’s no big deal.”   “Okay, cool.” Yoongi exhales and sits beside you.   Taehyung shakes his head but redirects his attention to Jimin when he steals his favourite controller. “Hey, hey, hey, paws off, bro.”   “What?”   “That’s mine.”   “Who says?”   “I wrote my name at the back in pencil. Look. See?”   “You wrote on my controller?” Jungkook is outraged, snapping into their argument.   In the meanwhile, Yoongi scrolls through his phone and notices you’re blankly staring at Jungkook's old flat screen — the one he stole from his parent’s home months ago and somehow set it up here. “I meant it.”   “What?”   “I know it looked like Taehyung made me,” Yoongi mumbles, “Which he did. But I meant to apologize anyway. Eventually. I know I’m an ass.”   “You’re an honest one,” you admit with a small smile. If there was anyone who was going to be frank and truthful, it would be Yoongi. He won’t sugar coat it, won’t string pretty words together to make you feel better, so that’s why you pick him to inquire, “Can I ask you a question, Yoongi?”   “Sure.”   “Do you think I’ll ever be able to get back together with Jin?”   “No.” His gaze connects with yours. “You won’t. Usually people break up for a reason and that reason always stands.”

Two weeks pass by as you ignore the thoughts lingering in the back of your mind. You overlook it like an assignment on your desk that needs to be done or like that messy drawer you should clean out but keep procrastinating on. And it’s easy to distract yourself when the entire school is stirred.   Of course it would be. After all, the most competitive holiday was coming up.   “What are you going to make for Valentines?”   “Me?” You blink. “I don’t know. I haven’t really thought about it yet….”   The atmosphere hyped — even the dining hall is louder, the air buzzing.   The holiday simply dedicated to love has long been replaced by alumni years ago and became a competition. After all, this was the place where everyone could make sweets after all. No longer was Valentine chocolates simply melting chocolate from the store and pouring them into molds — every single person here can properly judge the quality, taste, texture, flavour, and the presentation.   According to rumours, the tradition started between three people, specifically when a girl told her two potential suitors that she would become the Valentine of whoever baked better. It sounds like some ridiculous Shakespearean tragedy, but as people went head to head to win the affections of their crushes — it essentially evolved into a competition.   And at this point, it doesn’t matter who gives it to who. It’s who bakes it better.   “I’m still debating if I want to do raspberry possets or raspberry religieuse,” Taehyung hums, chin resting in his propped up hand, and he turns to his side. “Which one do you like, Yoongi?”   “Why the fuck do you care what I like?”   “Well obviously because I’m going to make it for you,” he giggles.   Yoongi glares. “Fuck off.”   “Who else am I supposed to give it to? You have no one, I have no one.”   “What about Jimin?” you ask, trying to hold back laughter with said brunette.   “He has his mom.”   “Hey,” Jimin whines, “I have the Valentine’s Day fundraiser at the hospital this year too.”   “So you’re not going to make anything for your mom?” he deadpans.   “Well, no.” Jimin pouts. “I’m going to make her red velvet cupcakes.”   “Don’t make fun of him,” you chide Taehyung and turn to the other. “That’s really cute, Jimin.”   Jimin grins, eyes crinkling into half moons. “Don’t worry, Taehyung can say whatever he wants. He’s just jealous my mom’s the best. She raised me all on her own and I wouldn’t be here without her.”   “Okay, I’ll admit she’s really nice,” Taehyung has a dreamy expression. “I miss her warm hugs.”   “That’s weird,” Jimin deadpans, pleasant smile switching into a face of comical disgust. “Don’t talk about my mom like that, dude.”   You laugh and look over at the sleepy man lazily chewing on his mac and cheese. It’s always funny to watch Yoongi eat. He looks physically pained to chew and swallow — you wonder if he would blend all of his food to just drink it if he could. “Are you going to make anything, Yoongi?”   “No. Who would I give it to?” He ignores Taehyung when he exclaims ‘me’.   You direct your attention to Hoseok and he shrugs. “I might...make lemon and poppy seed cupcakes or strawberry rhubarb shortbread bars.”   “For who?” Jungkook asks, brows raised.   “Uh, no one.” But it’s obvious that the answer is too suspicious, so he gives in with a sigh. “I owe Y/N’s friend, Aeri, a favour, so I’ll probably make something for her.”   “Ooh, I haven’t heard you talk about Y/N’s friend before.” Taehyung leans in closer, eyes glistening.   “Shut up,” Hoseok quips. “What about you, Y/N?”   “I...haven’t decided if I will or not. Maybe I’ll make something for Jin.”   Yoongi’s eyes flicker up, brow cocking, and you stare back at him blankly.   Jimin catches the quick exchange and intercepts. “You should tell Jungkook to make you his chocolate-covered strawberry cupcakes.”   “Holy fuck, I remember those!” Taehyung slaps the table, startling both you and Jungkook. “Those was so fucking delicious, I thought I was going to cream my pants when I ate them. I can still taste it.” He slurps up the spit that’s accumulated in his mouth.   Jungkook’s nose wrinkles. “No. It’s too much work to make that.”   Taehyung bats his lashes. “You wouldn’t make it for us?”    “That’s an even harder no.”   “Psh. Valentine’s Day hater.”   “Fuck off. It’s not my fault that the holiday is stupid.”   “You just hate it because you’re alone.” You pat your friend on the back. “It’s okay, Jungkook. You’ll find love someday.”   “Okay, fuck you too,” he spits without much malice, making Yoongi smirk.   “Jungkook just knows his small package can’t satisfy any man or woman.”   Yoongi’s insult rouses laughter from everyone and the man being grilled has his brows shot to his hairline. “For your information, I have a substantial size and I’m probably bigger than everyone here. Especially you, Mr. five foot nine.”   You blanch. “Gross.”    But while Yoongi doesn’t seem injured by the retort, Jimin’s the one who’s sitting straight and he whines, “Why do you have to bring height into this?”   They ignore him in favour of Taehyung’s questioning, “Really? Bigger than everyone here?”   “Okay fine.” Jungkook points at Taehyung. “Except you.”   You look between the pair of them. “Did you guys have a dick measuring contest or what?”   “We will not speak of the past,” Jungkook deadpans, making you laugh even more.   //   You know that you shouldn’t. With what Yoongi’s told you, with what you know yourself, you shouldn’t go out of your way to do something so unnecessary. You shouldn’t put your heart on your sleeve to get hurt again when it’s not going to be worth it. But in your life, there've been a thousand shouldn’ts and you’ve always grasped onto the one should.   It never hurts you to try, and that’s how you’ve made it this far.   “Hey, Jeon.” You catch up to him. Jungkook’s legs are unbearably longer than yours and when he walks fast it puts you out of breath within seconds.    Luckily, he sees you and has the decency to slow down. “What?”   “I need your help.” Jungkook’s steps slow even more until he outright stops in the middle of the hallway. He looks so apprehensive, you have an urge to slap that expression off his face. “Hey! It’s not like I’m not going to ask you to kill someone for me!”   “Yeah, well, the last time you asked for a favour, we destroyed a kitchen trying to temper chocolate. I’d rather you kill me, thank you very much.”   “Pretty please? Promise it’s not bad.”   “Ew, ew. Don’t look at me like that and stop pouting, you’re not cute.”   You frown at him. “Look it’s not a huge, huge thing, promise.”   “What is it?”   “Well, you’re Jungkook, World’s Best Chocolatier, right?” You nudge him with your elbow and it only makes him more suspicious with how you’re thickly laying down the praise. “And you know chocolate hates me. I definitely don’t know about it as well as you do either, so I need you to bestow your gifts onto me—”   “What is it, lady? Get a move on! I don’t have all day.”   “Can you help me make something for Jin?”   Jungkook pauses. He stares at you. Maybe his brain finally died — not like there is anything to die considering it’s always been a little on the empty side. But then he finally opens his mouth. “What are you planning?”   “Just something simple. Like truffles. What do you think?”   Jungkook hesitates, then he looks at you. “Fine.”   “Really?”   “Yeah, yeah.”   He waves his hand away, but you grin at him. “You know you’re my best friend, right, Jungkook?”   “Yeah, well, it’s something I never really signed up for,” your best friend mutters and continues walking while telling you that you’ll owe him and that means more notes from multiple lectures. But it’s worth it.   On the fourteenth, right on Valentine’s Day, you meet with Jungkook.   He audibly sighs when he sees you tie up the back of your apron. “What?”   “Nothing. I just can’t believe I’m spending Valentine’s with you.”   “I thought you didn’t care about the holiday.”   “I don’t. But that still doesn’t mean this isn’t lame. Whatever. The quicker we get this done, the quicker I can leave and avoid all this.” He motions around, but you know what he means.   Love is in the air and it’s sickening — couples were holding hands, kissing each other on the tips of their noses, rubbing their cheeks against one another, dialing up the PDA to an uncomfortable amount. But you can’t blame them. You and Seokjin were once like that.   “Do you know how to make ganache?”   “Do I know how to make ganache,” you mimic him mockingly. “Of course I do! What am I, an idiot?!”   “Well, you didn’t know how to temper chocolate so you tell me.”   You glare at him. You would mouth off but can’t risk him storming out.   The two of you gather the eight ounce semi-sweet chocolate, a half cup of whipping cream, cocoa powder and some vanilla. Jungkook helps you heat the cream to a simmer in a small saucepan, looking over your shoulder at every step along the way. While you’d usually mind the way he’s intruding in your personal bubble, you don’t want to get anything wrong.   “Make sure it doesn’t burn.”   “It’s not going to burn.”   “You said that last time.”   You snap. “Keep bringing up last time and this will be the last time you step into the kitchen, Jeon.” A second later, you’re begging Jungkook not to leave. But thankfully, he has enough mercy and lets you off with a warning.   The pair of you continue making the ganache, placing the chocolate in a bowl before pouring the cream and adding the vanilla to it. You allow it to stand for a few minutes before stirring it into a smooth, deep mixture.   You place the ganache in the fridge for half an hour to chill. In the meanwhile, you clean up the mess and wash whatever dishes you have. Jungkook, on the other hand, shows you Yoongi’s reaction of Taehyung proposing to him with some cupcakes in front of campus in which the former man straight out walks away.    Jimin who’s filming is giggling hard enough that the camera is unsteady, but his laughter is infectious and makes the both of you grin. Jungkook says he’s glad he wasn’t there lest Taehyung turned to him and started to declare his fake affections and cause a crowd to gather. Apparently it’s happened before.   When the ganache is ready, Jungkook helps you roll it into balls and dust with cocoa powder. You pull out a box you had prepared to place them in, and you could not be prouder when it’s complete.   It looks like a product that you could buy in-store. Simple yet elegant.   “All done.”   “All done,” you repeat after him, viewing your final product. Chocolate doesn’t hate you so much when you’re with Jungkook, you realize.   “He’ll love it.”   “Yeah….”   You can imagine it — calling out Jin’s name. He’d spin around, regard you with his surprise. You’d extend your arms to give him the box. You’d try to show through this small gesture that you still love him, but you wouldn’t speak the words in case the moment would be ruined. But with your courage mustered, you’d tell him that you miss him in your life. That you don’t want to be strangers anymore. Whether that means remaining friends or being lovers again.   But you know that it’s just your fantasy.   A delusion — your optimistic imagination running wild with the semblances of hope still left within you. A sweet dream you would have in your slumber only to wake up to reality. The grief of your heartbreak morphed into a wishful thinking. The image and scenario you’ve constructed in your mind is simply part of a chapter in your life that would never happen.   “He wouldn’t take it,” you whisper.    It's a truth that’s hard to face, that you’ve been running from and turning yourself blind to.    But you know Seokjin. After nearly two years together, you know the kind of polite smile he gives to strangers. You know how he treats acquaintances. You know when he’s being distant, how he acts when things don’t matter to him anymore. And you know that— “He wouldn’t….”   He would never take this.    He would never accept the chocolates you’ve made on Valentine’s. You would never be able to muster the courage to tell him how much you miss him. And he would never agree to being friends after your extensive history together.    Your head lowers, and tears drip down your cheeks. Jungkook is rendered speechless but you feel his hand on your shoulder. He squeezes comfortingly.   You sniffle, wiping your face with the back of your hand, and you take a truffle to throw into your mouth. You chew in your cheek and look at Jungkook with your reddened, teary eyes. “I-If he won’t eat it, we should.”   That’s how you end up on the floor of the kitchen with Jungkook beside you.    The two of you are leaning against the kitchen island, hidden away from the window of the door and any intrusive eyes peering through. The tips of your fingers are stained with melted chocolate — the fruits of your labour gone in an instant.   The realization sinks in. After months of what you’ve tried to keep a hold on it. Having hoped aimlessly that you could change this back around. What had shattered into sand and slipped between your fingertips, but you tried to catch it again. It hits you in an instant.    Harder than it ever has.   “It’s really over, isn’t it, Jungkook?” you ask in a murmur, in a broken voice. “It’s over.”   The relationship ended. Any form of a relationship with Seokjin is gone forevermore.   Jungkook turns his head, gazing at your profile. He pats you on the back.   He’s learnt long ago that he wasn’t very good at speaking, but that his words don’t mean as much as his actions do.   So in silence, Jungkook eats the truffles with you. It’s not bad, he muses internally. You’re getting better at chocolate despite how you never had a knack for it. Well, technically he made them but whatever, your effort still means something.   He chews and keeps to himself how the chocolate truffle strangely tastes sweet and bitter, like both sugar and black coffee.

[hotpinkhoshi]

kiss it better | two

pairing: mark tuan x reader

genre: angst, smut, brother’s best friend au (sort of)

warnings: age gap (nine years), cursing, explicit sex, slow burn

summary: you were off limits for more reasons than mark could count. but everything changed for him the day you walked into his tattoo shop with those big innocent eyes and a laugh like his favorite song. he couldn’t. he wouldn’t. and yet…

a/n: hi babies, how are we all doing? life is weird right now. i hope you’re all staying healthy and sane. please take care of yourselves! regarding the chapter, thank you guys for reading the prologue and chapter one! i know it’s a more subtle and slow burn than the pact was, but TRUST ME it will allll be worth it in the end. oh, and i wanted to point out: if you were confused by chapter one, make sure you go read the prologue first! i had titled it “preview” before but honestly, it’s important that you read it before diving into the story. 

✩ index here ✩

“No way! I loved that show. I was so sad when it ended,” you said, fingers ripping apart a second slice of pizza for yourself.

Mark grimaced, shaking his head. “Agh, no. The special effects were laughable.”

“Oh, so you’re one of those people?”

His deep brown eyes narrowed at you from across the restaurant booth. “What kind of people?”

You licked your lips and shrugged your shoulders. “You know… a snob.” You fought a smile.

Shaking his head at you, Mark chuckled, a low gravelly tone. “No, no. I just can’t do it. When I was in school, I wanted to work on special effects. I know it’s hard work, but I think that’s why I hate seeing people do such a half assed job.” 

You raised a brow. “You wanted to do special effects?” 

“Mm,” Mark replied, chewing his slice of supreme veggie pizza. “Played a lot of video games… still do, but you know, it was all I did back then. I wanted to be in the business so bad, so I thought about it. It turned me onto graphic design, which turned me onto art, which brought me here.” 

You’d been at this pizza shop for nearly an hour and you hadn’t stopped talking since. It was so incredibly easy to talk to Mark, and you weren’t sure if it was because in some way, he reminded you of home. But in an unexpected way that didn’t make you sick to your stomach.

He was also far more interesting than you’d ever thought he was. You found it so impressive how he’d found his passion and fought for it, even if it meant he might fail. If there was something Mark had an excess of, it was passion. You could easily tell from just the first moment you asked him about how he’d gotten into tattooing. 

“Wow,” you remarked, licking pizza sauce off of your thumb. “I never knew you were into all this stuff back then.” 

“Well… when I graduated you were, what? Nine?” 

You grimaced. You remembered the ungodly long graduation ceremony you’d had to sit through with your parents, all while wearing the most itchy velvet dress and tights. At the time, Taehyung had seemed like such a grown up. It was no surprise that you’d seen him as the shining Polaris to follow as you navigated through life. 

“It doesn’t feel like it was that long ago,” you said, leaning your chin upon your hand. “Weird. I can’t believe you and Tae are so…”

“Old?” Mark finished for you, one brow lifted. 

You bit back a smile, shaking your head. “I’d never say that…” 

“It’s alright, you can say it. Every morning, I wake up and a new muscle is sore. They say your health starts declining when you’re 26, so you’re living on borrowed time.” 

“Hey, I still have a few years then. Besides, you look pretty healthy to me. I mean…” Without realizing it, your eyes glanced down at his arms, the firm muscles and veins on clear display. 

Maybe it was weird, ogling your brother’s best friend, when he probably saw you as his little sister. But you couldn’t help it… he’d really grown into adulthood. His face was a mixture of sharp features and round, doe eyes and full lips. It was only your body’s natural response.

“Thanks,” he replied and you noticed the tips of his ears flushing red. “Alright, are you ready to get out of here?” 

You were grateful for the change in subject. You nodded, and with only a little shame didn’t even bother trying to pay for the meal. Funds were extra low now after that tattoo, and you knew there was no way Mark would even allow you to pay a dime.

Mark led you out of the pizza shop and into his car, where your natural flow of conversation continued. You learned that Mark and Dahyun had been at the tattoo shop for almost five years now, and Mark was essentially the head artist. He had worked hard to get where he was, starting as an apprentice and moving up the ladder.

It seemed as if he wasn’t the most social employee, though. He was friendly with Dahyun and the guys, but he didn’t talk about them much besides when referring to work. 

As Mark pulled up to the address of the hostel you were staying in, you drew in a deep breath as you prepared yourself for another night of thumping bass and blasting machine guns. 

“Thank you for tonight, Mark. I really appreciate it. And… the tattoo, obviously. I love it,” you told him, gathering up your purse as you reached for the door handle. 

“This is where you’re staying?” He asked, eyebrows raised. 

It wasn’t the prettiest building, no. It was sort of falling apart, but it was all cosmetic issues on the exterior. Inside, it was… acceptable. No air conditioning and the blankets sort of smelled, but it would do for now. 

“Yeah,” you replied, hand hesitating on the handle. “It’s not so bad. The owner is kind of creepy, and my roommate sucks but it’s a bed. I don’t need much.” 

Mark was looking at you as if he didn’t believe a word you said. You saw his jaw working as he stared at the building, then averted his eyes back to you. Slowly, he shook his head. 

“You’re not staying there. Just… why don’t you come stay with me? I have a free second bedroom.” 

You shook your head. “No, no. Mark, seriously. I’m fine. It’s really okay, it’s just a place to sleep,” you said, repeating the mantra you’d been repeating to yourself each day before entering the hostel. Honest to god, it sucked. But you weren’t about to mooch off of someone else - you were determined to be on your own and that meant you wouldn’t take any favors. 

“Seriously, Y/N,” he started, his voice turning gravely serious. “It might be a place to sleep, but I can see the termites from here. Come stay with me.” 

“Mark,” you said, voice equally serious. “It’s okay. Don’t worry about me. I’ll text you if I have any questions about the tattoo, okay?”

You reached for the door handle once more and this time, Mark just watched as you climbed out of the car, turning just before you shut the door. 

“Thank you again. I mean it,” you told him, forcing a smile that you hoped looked natural. 

Mark’s face was a mixture of emotions that you couldn’t quite place. He was still worried about you, but for now at least, he’d given up. He didn’t look pleased with you, either. His knuckles were white where they held the steering wheel. 

He muttered a ‘you’re welcome’ before you shut the door. 

Turning towards the hostel, you took a deep breath and steeled yourself for another night in hell. 

-- -- -- -- --

You woke up, as usual, with sweat dripping down your neck and a kink in your lower back. You groaned, twisting your upper body in an effort to stretch as much as you could in the tiny bunk. It was a shit hole, you could at least accept that now. 

The owner of the hostel had a no-closed-doors rule, which honestly, you felt was a little bit suspicious considering the fact that the bathrooms were also co-ed. But things were different in the city, you figured. Maybe privacy wasn’t such a big deal. 

There were people talking loudly in the hallway, an American couple having an argument that apparently, couldn’t have been held outside or maybe a few hours later. You had to work tonight, and you’d been hoping to get eight hours of sleep for once. 

Rubbing your eyes, you sat up, your head just shy of smacking into the wooden frame of the bed above you. You unplugged your phone, finding two texts from Taehyung, one from your boss, and six from Mark. You opened your brother’s first.

Taehyung [07:04am]: Y/N, it’s been a month already. Stop being a brat and go home. You’ve made your point. Taehyung [07:24am]: At least tell me where you are, please.

You sighed and ran your hand over your face, your eyes falling shut as you tried to push his words out of your mind. He didn’t get it - of course he didn’t. He’d spent his whole life as the star of the family, getting anything and everything he desired. Any dreams he had, he was encouraged to follow them, no matter how crazy they were. Why couldn’t that same kindness extend to you? 

As you always did, you deleted his messages, but not without the usual tinge of guilt. 

You opened your boss’ message next, which was just a photo of your next schedule. A ridiculous amount of hours, but at least you could make up for the money you’d blown on your tattoo. 

Next, you opened Mark’s texts. 

Mark [12:33am]: Y/N, I was serious. That place is a dump and you shouldn’t be staying there Mark [12:35am]: Just come stay with me Mark [12:40am]: Even just for a little while, a couple of weeks Mark [02:03am]: Seriously Mark [02:05am]: I can’t sleep because I’m imagining you being eaten alive by termites Mark [08:03am]: I’m outside. Call me when you wake up

You furrowed your brows, eyes flicking up to the current time. 8:07. He’d only texted you a few minutes ago, then. Hearing your roommate peacefully snoring above you, you slid out of the bed and rushed through the doorway, dodging the couple still going at it in the hallway. 

Once you were in the common area, you called Mark. He picked up right away. 

“Mark, why are you outside?” you asked before he even had a chance to say hello. You couldn’t quite hide the irritation in your voice.

You heard him sigh on the other end. “Are you really asking me that?” 

“I told you, I’m fine.”

You felt a breeze and turned to the front desk, where the owner was standing, his eyes shamelessly roaming your frame. He had a fan pointing directly at you, causing goosebumps to form on your arms and legs. Usually, you slept in more than just a tank top and shorts, but you hadn’t been able to deal with the heat last night. 

“I’m not leaving until you come with me,” Mark said. 

Turning away from the owner, you walked over to the front window, one finger sliding the curtain to the side so that you could peek out. There he was, leaning against his car while he stared up at the building you were in. He looked pissed, which further annoyed you. Why did he care so much?

“I said no,” you told him, your voice as firm as you could make it. Mark rolled his eyes, a subtle smirk to the side of his lips.

“And I’m not accepting no as an answer. Just get your shit and let’s go.” 

You huffed in annoyance, letting the curtain fall closed once more. “Go home, Mark. You’re not my brother.” 

Mark laughed bitterly on the other end. “You’re right, I’m not. Do you want me to call him? ‘Cause I will.”

“No!” you replied quickly, squeezing your eyes shut. “Don’t call him. Please.” 

You were met with silence on the other end for a long moment before Mark replied. “Either you come with me, or I call your brother and tell him you’re staying in an infested hole in the ground. It’s up to you.”

Taking in a shaky breath, you opened your eyes, running your fingers through your hair. You didn’t get why he cared so much, or why he couldn’t just leave you alone and go on with his life. “Fine. Give me twenty minutes.” 

“Ten,” Mark said. “I’m hungry and I don’t feel like waiting that long.”

You rolled your eyes, not granting him a response before you disconnected the call. 

Needless to say, you took your sweet time as you gathered all of your things, tossing them into your duffel bag without any sense of organization. You weren’t quiet, either, figuring it was only fair if your roommate lost a few winks of sleep after all she’d put you through. 

By the time you were walking out the front door to the car, Mark’s lips were set into a deep frown, eyebrows creased as he watched you. 

“Don’t look at me like that. You’re going to get wrinkles,” you told him, tossing your bag into the already opened trunk. “In fact, you probably already have some, old man.”

“The hell are you wearing?” Mark asked, crossing his arms over his chest. 

You looked down at your clothes. You hadn’t taken the time to change out of your pajamas, simply because you were worried Mark would storm in if you took too long. 

“It was hot last night,” you tried, tugging the hem of your tank top down. Mark scoffed and walked around to the driver’s side of the car, muttering something to himself that you couldn’t catch. 

Once you slid into the passenger’s seat, Mark handed you an iced coffee. It was only slightly melted, and you had to admit, it was just what you needed.

“How did you know I’d come with you?” you asked, taking a sip while Mark turned the key in the ignition. 

“What?” he asked, barely paying attention to you as he pulled out onto the street. 

“You got two coffees. What if I said no?”

Mark glanced over at you, his lips pulled into a cocky smirk. “It wasn’t an option. If you said no, I was going to walk in there and make a scene until you came with me.” 

It was your turn to cross your arms over your chest as you leaned back against the seat. You wanted to ask him why it mattered to him where you were staying, but at the end of the day you knew why he cared. Your mom had taken him under her wing when he was a kid, even if you were too young to remember it. 

Your family had fed and clothed him when his parents were too drugged out to remember they had a child to take care of. In a way, you figured, Mark felt a duty to repay the favor somehow. Or maybe he was just a controlling asshole - you couldn’t be sure. 

“I’m not a kid,” you said under your breath, leaning your head against the cold glass of the window.

Mark didn’t respond, and you had to admit you were grateful. You didn’t need one more person telling you you were too young to know what you wanted, too inexperienced to make your own decisions. That was how you’d gotten into this situation in the first place. 

You finished your coffee by the time Mark pulled up to his apartment building. Compared to the hostel you’d just left, it was practically a five-star hotel. Nothing fancy, but from here you could tell all four exterior walls were in good shape and even that was an upgrade. 

You got out of the car, grabbing your bag from the back seat. Just as you went to follow Mark into the building, he stopped in front of you and turned around. 

“Look, I’m sorry if I was kind of an asshole. I just,” he paused to chew at his lip, scratching the back of his head. “I felt like I had a responsibility. To your family, your parents…”

Mark trailed off and you couldn’t help the guilt you felt in your stomach. You were still a child when Mark was going through the worst of it, but you’d heard enough from eavesdropping on your parents’ conversations to know they quite literally saved his life. 

You swallowed, wanting to reach out, but you resisted. At the end of the day, you hardly knew him, despite the connection you felt. 

“It’s okay. I appreciate that you care… I guess I was just determined to do this on my own. Without anybody’s help,” you admitted. 

Mark lifted his eyes to yours. “Sometimes you need to let people help.”

Like I did. You heard it, unspoken, in his words. Maybe you could have done it on your own, but it would be a hell of a lot easier if you accepted a helping hand from Mark. 

“Fine,” you breathed. “But only for a few weeks. And I’m gonna cook and clean for you to earn my keep.”

Mark laughed as you brushed past him, shaking his head at you. “You don’t have to ask me twice. How about you start with breakfast? I’m still hungry, you know.” 

[xofanfics]

Until Tomorrow

Genre: angst, fluff, dad!Minghao, husband!Minghao

Pairing: Reader x Minghao

Word Count: 4.2k

*REQUESTED*

Summary: When Minghao tells his parents his plans of marrying you, his mother rejects it and his father says nothing. 

When he laid his eyes on the ring, he was happier than ever. It was perfect for you and he knew you’d love it. He smiled widely as he took out his credit card and paid for it. He carried it in the blue velvet box as he went home, carrying his hopes, dreams, and his future in his pocket.

On his way there, he imagined the proposal and what it would be like. He pictured how wide your smile would be and how you’d start tearing up because you were so happy that you couldn’t believe that it was happening. He’d been with you for the past two years and he couldn’t imagine a life without you. You’d mentioned marriage here and there and the whole time he was making mental notes of all the small details you mentioned: the ring, the dress, and so on. Minghao had been saving a lot of money and he was almost ready to give you a proposal you’d never forget.

He walked into the house, his nose filled with the smell of his mom’s cooking. “I’m home,” he said, taking off his shoes and placing them neatly on the mat.

“Dinner is almost ready,” she called upon hearing the sound of her son’s voice. “Can you set the table?”

He nodded. “Sure.” He took the small bowls from the cabinet, spooning rice from the rice cooker. As he did, his father came into the room and sat at the table. “Hi, Dad.”

“How was your day?”

“Good. I had a few photoshoots,” he said.

His father nodded. Like most parents, his didn’t exactly approve of his decision to be a photographer. They’d wanted him to be like everyone else and get a degree in finance or business but it wasn’t in him to do that sort of thing. He was creative; he wanted to create things. In high school, he spent his time on the dance team and taking pictures with the camera his mother got him for his birthday. Instead of a business degree, he got one in photography and he’d never been happier. At first his parents wondered how he’d make money like that but he was doing just fine. He’d proved them wrong but they still made snide remarks about his choice of career here and there.

In a moment, the three of you were seated and eating dinner at the table. Minghao cleared his throat. “I’m planning on proposing to Y/N.”

The room was silent. He wasn’t sure of what his father’s opinion on you was; he never seemed to have a problem with his dating you. His mother, however, never liked you. After a short silence his mother said, “Why?”

“Because I love her and because she treats me well.”

“Isn’t she still in school? Why has she been in school so much longer when you’re the same age? She’s not a hard worker and she doesn’t come from a good family. Her mother threw her away. Why should you marry someone like that?”

“She’s been paying for college herself! And she works part-time,” Minghao argued. “And so what if she doesn’t come from a good family? Why does growing up in a good family matter? She’s a good person and she’s smart, mom.”

To be honest, you were abandoned by your mother when you were three and you ended up in an orphanage. From what you told him, you had very vague memories of your mother. Just of her face, you’d said. You grew up in an orphanage and never got adopted due to the stigma of adoption in China. You had a hard life and you never really had a family. But none of that mattered to him because he wanted to become your family. He wanted to be your husband and father of your children, once you were ready to take that step.

“You should marry someone that comes from a good family. Your wife should come from a good family with a good background. Her mother was probably on drugs or something... ”

“Why should she be discriminated against because of choices her mother made? She’s a completely different person and she’s never once touched drugs.”

“How would you know?” his mother shouted across the table. “She’s probably taking drugs between work and school. That’s why she hasn’t graduated and she’ll never be a nurse like she says. She’ll end up just like trash!”

“Don’t you dare call her that!” Minghao yelled back. His mother had crossed a line. He was so angry he could explode. And what was worse is that his father just sat there, looking down at the table and saying absolutely nothing. He hated that his father didn’t even back him up or prevent his mother from saying such cruel things.

That night, Minghao packed his things and never looked back once. From that point on, he decided that he didn’t have a family. * Minghao felt his hand being tugged in the middle of the night and thought that he must be dreaming. But he felt the tug again, harder this time. His eyes slowly fluttered open and he found his daughter standing so close to his face that he jumped. When he realized that it was just his baby.

“Daddy?” she called in her small, sleepy voice.

Rubbing sleep from his eyes, he sat up with a yawn. “Yes, baby? Did you have a nightmare?”

She stood, holding her small teddy bear that he bought for her birthday a few months ago. Then she shook her head. “Can I have water?”

He looked at the bedside table next to the bed and, to his dismay, he didn’t find the glass of water he usually kept by the bed. He dragged himself out of bed and held his daughter’s hand as they walked into the kitchen. She waited next to the refrigerator patiently as he went into the refrigerator and poured water into her favorite purple cup. He stood next to her, handing her her cup. She said, “Thank you.”

While she took small sips from her cup, he poured himself a glass as well. They drank their water in silence together and, when Biyu was finished, she stood on her tiptoes to put the cup in the sink.

“All done?” asked Minghao, putting his cup in the sink, too.

Biyu nodded, holding onto her father’s hand again. “I’m sleepy.”

“Let’s go to the bathroom first, okay?” The last thing he needed was an accident as the night went on. He waited for her in the bathroom as she sat on the toilet and helped her clean up when she was done. After she washed her hands, Minghao had started toward her room expecting her to be behind him but, apparently, Biyu had other plans.

“Biyu, where are you going?”

She walked in the opposite direction and into her bedroom and into the room her parents slept in. She crawled into the bed next to you and made herself comfortable under the blanket. She patted the bed, motioning for Minghao to get in the bed beside her. He smiled to himself and lay down next to her.

With all the movement in the bed, you rolled over and opened your eyes to find your daughter between you and your husband. You smiled. “You couldn’t sleep?”

Biyu shook her head. “Wanna sleep with mommy and daddy.”

Minghao kissed Biyu’s cheek before kissing your lips. The three of you cuddled. Biyu, of course, snuggled closest to her dad and you fell asleep again, with Minghao’s fingers intertwined with yours. Small moments like this, made being a father worth more than a million words. * The week came and went. It was a Friday afternoon and you ended up getting off of work a little early. You went inside of Biyu’s school to pick her up. The teachers were a bit surprised to see you an hour early but started preparing Biyu to go home. Her head popped up from the table and over to the door. Her face lit up upon seeing you and ran over despite her teacher’s call to clean up. You laughed as Biyu ran into your arms.

You kneeled down to meet her at eye level. Her eyes glimmered with excitement and joy, bringing a smile to her face. “Biyu, you have to clean up first. Listen to your teacher so we can go to the supermarket and make something yummy for dinner.”

With a pout, Biyu quickly cleaned up her mess and got her coat. She bid her friends and teachers goodbye before leaving in your hand.

“Where’s daddy?” she asked, as you waited at the bus stop.

“He’s working,” you answered. “We’ll see him at home, okay?” Your husband had a photoshoot that was running a bit later than he anticipated. Biyu frowned, a bit disappointed to find that her dad wasn’t going to be joining you at the supermarket.

It was Minghao’s birthday and you were planning on making dinner. You’d made dumplings the previous night and froze them so that they’d be ready for today. You planned on making that and some stir fry.

The trip to the supermarket was quick; You got the things you needed while pushing your four year old in the shopping cart. To your surprise, she didn’t complain too much after she reached her two snack limit. Biyu was sometimes a picky eater but she loved snacks, so much that sometimes you had to hide them where she couldn’t reach or wouldn’t find them. For four years old, she could be a little sneaky. * You watched Biyu color at the coffee table while you cooked. She’d looked a little like you when she was first born but something happened and she ended up looking mostly like Minghao. While the dumplings boiled in the pot on the stove, you plopped down next to your daughter. You said, “What are you drawing?”

“I’m drawing me and daddy,” she said.

“What about me? I’m not in the picture,” you said, laughing.

“Nope,” she said. “Only me and daddy!”

She continued coloring and you pat her head. You carried her for nine months, pushed her out, and nursed her and all but she was still a daddy’s girl. You chuckled to yourself.

And, right on time, Minghao walked through the door. Biyu’s eyes lit up and your child scrambled to her feet, nearly tripping over them in the process. She shouted, “Daddy!”

He’d barely had a chance to take his coat off before he was tackled by his daughter. He scooped her up in his arms. “I’m back! Sorry I’m late, my pretty girl.” You came over to him and he planted a kiss on your lips. “Hey baby.” He sniffed the air. “Wow, it smells so good.”

“Mommy made dumplings!” she said as the timer went off.

You smiled and headed into the kitchen. “Dinner’s ready, babe.”

He smiled and put Biyu down. “Let’s help mommy set the table, okay?”

Biyu said, “I made you a present,” and ran over the coffee table. She showed him the picture she’d drawn and colored. “It’s me and you.”

Minghao kneeled down next to her and admired the picture. “It’s so pretty. Thank you. What about mommy? Are you gonna draw mommy too?”

As you sat the dishes on the table, you said, “She basically said I couldn’t be in it.” Biyu laughed loudly and her dad joined in her laughter. “Come on silly, let’s eat.”

Minghao sat Biyu down at the table and put his phone down. “I wanna show you some of the shots I took today. I shot engagement photos as the sun was setting.” As he went to go get his camera from his backpack, his phone started vibrating on the table.

You glanced at it and saw that it was an unknown number. “Your phone’s ringing.”

He continued digging through his bag for the camera. “Who is it?”

“I don’t know. The number isn’t saved.”

By the time he got to the table, the phone had stopped ringing. With raised eyebrows, he picked up the phone and put the camera down with his other hand. “I don’t know this number.” He cleared his throat and sat down across from you.

Part of you thought it was a little strange that he didn’t answer and that he wasn’t at least curious about the unknown number. The insecure part of your brain was racked with thoughts of it possibly being another woman calling your husband’s phone. But you shook that thought away. Minghao loved you and you had no reason to question it.

The three of you started eating and the phone started vibrating on the table again. Minghao reached over and silenced the phone before he returned to the dumplings. “Wow,” he said, smiling at you. “It’s delicious. When did you learn how to make such good dumplings?”

“The internet,” you said, laughing. “And Biyu helped me mix everything together, right?”

She nodded and shoved a whole dumpling in her mouth. Minghao laughed. “Biyu, you shouldn’t stuff the whole thing in your mouth. You can get hurt like that.”

Biyu smirked, mouth full, and looked over at his phone which started vibrating again. “Your phone, daddy.”

Minghao sighed, annoyed that the stupid phone was interrupting his birthday dinner with his family. He picked up the phone and put it to his ear, fed up. “Hello?”

“Minghao, it’s your dad.” Minghao’s eyes widened and his mouth suddenly felt dry, to the point where he couldn’t find words to speak. “I know it’s been a long time but I got your phone number from your friend Tao. He came to the store last week…”

“Oh…”

“I don’t know how to say this but your mom isn’t doing well. She has heart disease and,” he said, clearing his throat, “she doesn’t have much time left…”

Minghao was shocked. He hadn’t heard from his parents in almost six years. When he left home, he left for good. He never looked back once. He stayed at a hotel for those next few days, unable to face you. When he felt himself falling into depression, he thought of you and pulled himself out of that hole before he fell in too deeply. He’d been losing sight of what was important to him, the reason he left home in the first place: you. That night, he took you out for dinner at your favorite restaurant and walked through a park after eating. He got on one knee and proposed to you, just the way he planned. The look on your face was priceless and you threw your arms around him, the impact almost knocking him over.

The two of you put together your money and started renting an apartment together. A few months later, you were married. And a couple months after that, you found out that you were pregnant with a baby girl. He’d never been happier. You and Biyu were his family and until now, it was all that mattered.

His heart dropped when his dad told him about his mother’s condition. Though he’d cut them out of his life, it still hurt. Even if she hurt him, she was his mother. No matter what, she was the person who gave birth to him and raised him. He loved his mother and they’d had no problems until that day. She’d always made unnecessary comments about you but she’d never been completely out of line like that day. He’d let it slide when his mother made comments about you still being in school and working part time. But she crossed the line that day and he wasn’t going to sit there and take it anymore.

“I’ll come tomorrow…” * Minghao was on a train to his hometown after not having spoken to his parents in over six years. To be honest, he felt a little nervous and a little guilty for ending things the way he did. But then he remembered how his mother treated him that day and the guilt melted away like ice on a hot day. You squeezed his hand, knowing that he was feeling a bit stressed out. He looked over at you and smiled.

“Thank you for coming,” he said.

“Of course,” you said. “I’m here for you babe. I think that it’s good that your dad called. Maybe talking to your mom can give you some closure.” At this point, you knew what had happened and when he told you, it hurt. But if anything, it gave you the motivation to become a nurse just like you said. And you were. You were a nurse in the pediatrics department and a damn good one at that.

He nodded, looking down in his arms at his sleeping daughter. He let out a sigh and in a few minutes, the train had arrived. Biyu, not quite ready to walk on her own, was carried by Minghao. It had been so long since he’d been back to his hometown but he noticed the small changes around him as the three of them rode in a taxi to the hospital.

Minghao never thought about it but he never really discussed his parents with Biyu. He’d give her vague answers and tell her that they lived far away. As they walked inside the hospital, he mentally prepared himself. He gave her name at the front desk and the receptionist prompted him to go up to the eighth floor.

Minghao had been quiet and you knew that he was feeling a little stressed and anxious about all of this. He’d heard that his mother was dying. Whether he had bad feelings toward her or not, it was a stressful situation to be in. You sat Biyu in a seat in the waiting area. Minghao got on one knee, meeting her at eye level. She beamed at him and he smiled back at her. “I’m going to leave for a few minutes, okay? I’ll be right back.”

“You’re going to see your mommy, right?”

He nodded. “Yeah. She’s not feeling so well.”

“Can I meet her?”

“Maybe if she’s feeling better.”

“Okay.”

“Wait here with mommy.”

You gave him a kiss before he left in search of his mother’s hospital room. He knocked on the door and went inside. He stood in the doorway for a moment. His mother had aged, from what he could see. Her face had more defined wrinkles and she had more grey hairs than he remembered. Minghao closed the door and sat on the chair across from the room. He’d rehearsed what he wanted to say in his head a million times before coming but he couldn’t find the words anymore.

She cleared her throat. “I didn’t think you’d come.” An awkward silence hung in the air. He didn’t know what to say. “I’m sorry for what I said back then...about Y/N.” He nodded, grateful for at least an apology and acknowledgement that she did something wrong. “I shouldn’t have said those things. I’ve spent this whole time thinking about it. When you left that day, I thought you’d come back. Days went by, then months, years…”

“I waited six years for an apology...and even now, it feels strange,” he said. “It hurt, mom. It hurt me so much to know that you weren’t supportive of me. You supported me through college even though I didn’t get a business degree. You bought me my first camera because you knew it would make me happy even though you wished I was doing something else instead. You knew I wanted to be independent and buy it myself but you bought it for me anyway and told me to put the money in my savings instead. So when I told you I wanted to marry Y/N, it made me upset because it was the first thing in my life you were so unsupportive of.”

“I know,” she said, looking down. “This doesn’t justify anything but I wanted the best for you. I tried to discourage you from being with her. I thought she lacked ambition and motivation. I didn’t think she’d finish school and—”

“She finished school a couple months later,” he said, interrupting her. “She graduated from nursing school and she became a pediatric nurse—she’s one of the best in her hospital.”

“Are you happy?” she asked.

He nodded. “Of course. We got married and life is good. We live in Shenzhen and I’m saving up to buy a photography studio to use for my shoots.”

The nervous expression on her face faded into a smile. “I’m glad.”

“There’s someone I want you to meet. I’ll be right back.” He left the room for a moment and headed toward the waiting area where he left his family. When he came around the corner, he saw you reading a book with Biyu. He walked toward you with a smile. You looked up, then Biyu.

You said, “Everything okay?”

Minghao nodded and held out his hand toward Biyu. “Do you wanna meet your grandma?” Biyu didn’t answer and got up to grab his hand. You gave him a nod and watched them disappear around the corner again.

Minghao pushed the door open and walked in, with Biyu clinging to him. His mother’s eyes lit up at the sight of her. She lifted her hand to wave. “Don’t be rude,” he said, looking down at her. “Say hi.”

“Hi,” Biyu said, in a low voice.

“What’s your name?”

“Biyu.”

“That’s pretty. Biyu means jasper, you know. It’s a pretty red stone.”

Biyu smiled and walked closer to the hospital bed. She looked up at her with big, curious eyes. “Are you sick?”

“A little bit,” his mother said, smiling. “But I think I’m starting to feel a little better.”

Biyu ended up taking over the conversation. She asked her grandma a bunch of questions about where she lives, what her house looks like, if she has pets, and about her grandpa. It was as if he wasn’t even there.

Biyu put her finger on her chin. “Do you know my mommy?”

She nodded and then turned to her son. “Is it okay if I talk to her?”

Minghao stood. “I’ll ask her if she’s okay with it.” He took out his phone to text you: She wants to talk to you. I think she wants to apologize to you.

You wrote back, Sure. Room 831A, right?

You never had a relationship with Minghao’s mom. He rarely talked about her when they were dating back then and eventually when he told you everything, you found out why. You were hurt, at first. But then Minghao reminded you that he didn’t care who didn’t approve or who liked it, that you were the person he wanted to be with no matter what. And that was enough for you. For the past six years, he didn’t talk much about his parents. It was always casual mentions like “My mom used to make tofu all the time when I was a kid” or “Biyu reminds me of my dad.” It was never more than that and now that you thought about it, he never really addressed those feelings.

You knocked on the door and Minghao opened it. Your eyes landed on your mother-in-law and Biyu who had been chatting away before you came in. She said, “Mommy, meet grandma.”

You smiled and Minghao came over to Biyu. “Let’s go see what snacks are in the vending machine, okay?” There was no reason for Minghao to feel nervous but he did. He didn’t know what his mother was going to say and he felt a little vulnerable not knowing. He would’ve stayed but Biyu was too young to understand and he didn’t want one of her final memories of her being something this heavy.

You sat down in the chair after her husband and daughter left. The first thing your mother in law said was, “I heard you’re a pediatric nurse now...Congratulations.”

To be honest, you didn’t feel any resentment toward her. Back then you felt a little weird when Minghao confessed everything but you didn’t hate her. You ended up doing well despite what she thought. And after that you began to care less and less about what people thought about you. You started to care less about the assumptions that people made. You were doing so well. You were living in a nice apartment, you had a husband and daughter that loved you, and you and Minghao were saving up money to buy an apartment and a photography studio.

“Thank you,” you said.

“I wanted to apologize to you directly,” she said. “I judged you before I got to know you and I’m sorry for not taking the time to know you first. I should’ve invited you for dinner and taught you how to make his favorite foods. As a parent I wanted the best for him but I wasn’t keeping his feelings in my thoughts.”

“Thank you for apologizing.” You cleared your throat. “I don’t hate you. I never have. We didn’t have a chance to get to know each other better and maybe we can now. ”

“I don’t have much time left and I’d like to fill the rest of my life with good memories.”

“I’d like that.”

A few minutes later, Minghao and Biyu came back. Biyu was satisfied with her snacks and she sat on the hospital bed. She continued to ask a million questions and, eventually, Minghao’s dad came. The five of you crowded in the hospital room for hours. You talked, laughed, and got to know each other. Until the end, like his mother said, you’d fill your lives with good memories.

[mizuritamanami]

What Goes Unseen

Linked Universe Time Warriors and Legend angst to sort of fluff?

They all have secrets. That much is a given, and sort of hard to miss, given the way Four clams up when asked about his moods, how often Wild has to just... stop and leave and come back to himself when they pass ruins sometimes, or the way Twilight vanishes without a trace to go off doing Hylia only knew what. 

And that wasn't even touching on the walking enigmas Time and Legend could be, so sure. They all have their secrets. Even bubbly Wind and soft spoken Sky. Secrets, secrets everywhere, in plain view or otherwise. 

But something about Wild’s Hyrule has been eating away at Warriors for weeks. Enough that Legend has even noticed his change in mood, his disinterest in most of the things he normally jumped at. 

Enough that the veteran adventurer surprises him by pulling him aside to talk in the guise of a patrol, enough that he wears Warriors down with enough pointless questions that the knight just explodes to ask him what the hell it is he wants.

"Somethings been on your mind for almost a month. You're starting to scare the old man," Legend says bluntly, "I didn't think you could top that "launch tree into bokoblin camp and rain fire from above" heart attack you gave him, but here we are. What gives?" 

For a moment, Warriors just stares at him, because firstly, how dare he insinuate that that plan hadn't worked perfectly outside of the landing, and secondly, since when did you pay that much attention to me?

He huffs. 

"I'm fine."

"Uh. No." 

Worth a try, anyway, Warriors thinks, turning away from the scrutinizing eyes of the young man across from him. 

Legend notes the way his fingers dig into the blue cloth around his neck, and sighs, gesturing to a fallen log. 

"Sit," he says, "tell me whats bothering you. If its got you like this, it warrants a serious talk, without pretense."

"Didn't know you knew such fancy words."

"Don't make me take it back and kick you in the shins."

Warriors has to laugh at that at least a little, so he sits, as instructed, and watches Legend plop unceremoniously into the mix of leaflitter, pine nettles, and flower petals on the forest floor. 

He's still fidgeting with the scarf, and the words come slowly at first, then frantic and almost angry. 

"My mother used to tell me, you know.... that there are stories, in the absences. In what we don't see. And- the more I look around, the more I see you- all of you- in Wild's Hyrule. Goddess, you're all everywhere.... but-.... out of the nine of us, there are only eight call backs. Even Wild's got his own legends already. So I can't help but wonder--..."

"Where you are."

"Where I went! What happened? Did- did I fail, somehow? Did I do something wrong? There's nothing left that says I ever even existed!"

"You existed to us. To Wild, to me, and Time, and Twi and the others. Between all of us, there's no denying that you were here."

Legend realizes belatedly that he's only just barely fended off a fit of sobs from the knight, and counts himself lucky and also gives himself a brownie point or three for the save, just before he recognizes the familiar thwacking and tramping of bronze armor against offending tree branches and leather boots on forest floor somewhere behind him.

He feels the heat come through his voice before he can stop the words from coming out of his mouth. 

"Besides, you didn't completely fuck a timeline, then leave another to Ganon for seven whole years, now did you? Too busy cleaning up other people's messes."

Time froze as his foot settled on the line of the clearing they were in, and the pregnant silence in the moment it took him to school his voice into something normal made Warrior's skin crawl it was so uncomfortable. 

"..... T-There you boys are.... Twilight was--.... he was getting worried. I'll tell him you just .... stopped for a break."

He turned on his heel in a perfect about face that made Warriors knight-side a little jealous, but the rest of him looked to Legend, who was avoiding the direction Time had gone entirely. Realization dawned a moment after.

"......... that was cruel, Legend..... I didn't want you to make me feel better if you were just going to tear him down. Or tell his secrets."

"...... if I'm honest Wars? That last jab was more for my sake than yours."

"What?"

"Whose timeline do you think his failure ruined?"

The sharp intake of breath on Warriors part told Legend he'd picked up on all the appropriate cues. 

".... that's one of my secrets, for spilling his to you, I guess. I don't know if I'm ever gonna be able to forgive him. But hey, since when has Hylia ever cared what we thought? Probably hasn't since Sky...... the point is, you aren't a failure for having to pick up after everyone else, and then not getting thanked for it. You're like that with all of us, too. Constantly doing things hoping someone will at the least notice. I noticed. All of us have. You're a goddamn hero, same as the rest of us, and the only reason your scarf isn't locked up in a chest out here somewhere is probably because you wouldn't part with that thing if it cost you your freaking soul or something. Duh."

Its quiet for a moment, and Warriors takes the time to look down at the blue around his neck a moment before smiling.  

"..... you should apologize to Old Father Time.... but you're right.  I guess its still all in the things you don't see at first glance- I never would have thought you a confidant. You might find out some interesting things about him if you sat like you did with me."

"Id rather eat one of Wild's disgusting potions made out of butterflies and lizalfos."

"Don't jinx yourself, Vet." 

"Shut up."

~~~~~

Legend was going to murder Warriors.

Don't jinx yourself my ass, you set this up, you sorry-- he cut his own thoughts off to hiss under his breath.

Not only was Legend laid up with Time looking out for him as first watch, but he'd had to drain four of those nasty freaking potions. 

"I hate. Lightning. So much."

Normally, that would have earned him a chuckle, or at least a sympathetic hum.

But Time just turned his head towards a darker section of the underbrush that Legend knew for sure he absolutely could not see anything in. 

Was it the being ignored or the uncertainty and hurt in Time's expression that made his stomach twist? 

"I said--" 

"I heard you, Legend. I'm sorry, I didn't think you wanted to speak to me." 

"...... oh..." 

The simple acceptance of Legend's earlier ire pulled all of the heat right out from under him, and he deflated some into his bedroll. 

"........ I am sorry.... I know it doesn't mean much to you, but... I am. Even the sword didn't think I was good enough, and judging by your reaction, it was probably right."

Legend winced. 

"What kind of bullshit cop-out is that? The sword doesn't make you a damn hero, it just points and grabs like a stupid claw game."

"Success, does, then. And that is a baton I clearly didn't pass to you, that I missed out on passing down peace..... it eats at me, some nights when I can't sleep, that I still managed to grasp at straws and hold so tight to so much good that I got to keep it. And I doomed you. I have everything and you were left wanting." 

Legend stared at his back, the way he bent around the biggoron sword leaning into his right shoulder to be drawn if need be by his left hand. 

"Im afraid I'm going to lose it all one day because I failed you so badly."

"I'm not that pitiful."

"Legend-"

"Look, I'm fine--"

"What was her name, Legend?" 

The air left Legends lungs in a sudden, sharp breath. 

"..... That's what I thought..."

"...... you were ten, if that..... yes, it sucks, and time travel is a pain, but you were fucking ten. Hylia sent a ten year old, let his tree mentor die right in front of him, and then continued to traumatize- REPEATEDLY traumatize- a child. Yes, I'm angry. Bitter and jaded, even. But don't you dare get so self important that you start thinking the blame fits on your shoulders. You're an old fucking man, not a god."

"Interesting choice of words...."

"No. No, because you're just gonna start unloading more trauma. If this is about that creepy mask, then no. That doesn't count either!"

"You're awfully concerned about this particular issue.... alright, I'll let it drop--"

"No, you ten year old little brat in a mentally fifty year olds achy jointed body, you're gonna go the fuck to sleep and stop moping. Its my turn to take watch and I'll be damned if I have to sit up watching you get all weepy into your pillow and trying to snitch Wild's slate to call your wife at two in the goddamn morning. Go to bed!"

Time stared at him in surprise, (the ten year old in him in question seriously debating biting the finger wagging in front of his nose) before Legends phrasing hit him. 

"Oh, I’m going to absolutely kill Warriors for telling you about how I was when we met."

"Brat! Bed! Bounce to it, bunny hat kid!"

"You are the last person--"

"Bed!"

"Alright! Alright! Fine! You're lucky I don't fit those masks anymore," Time muttered, picking himself up off the stump to go peel off his armor and crawl into his bedroll. He was silent as Legend pulled himself into the space he'd emptied, then sighed and smiled. 

"..... thank you, Vet." 

"Yeah yeah yeah. Go to sleep before you wake up Twilight. He has ears like a fucking wolfhou---....... oh my goddess you're kidding me."

"Shhh."

"Goddess I hate you sometimes." 

Warriors, apparently woken by the hissing through Legends teeth, chuckled to himself. 

Its all in the things you don't see, I guess, he thinks.

Secrets secrets, everywhere, but.... together, we're all still here for each other. I can live with that. 

"Good night bratty bunny and feral bunny."

Two furious choruses of "HEY!" were the perfect lullaby for Warriors to drop right back off to sleep. 

Yeah...

He could definitely live with that.