#IT REALLY IS NOT nothing lasts forever carries a fuck ton more of meaning I think

[xadeone]

Not really but a point was made

[gnougnouss]

Ya know I feel like there's a shit ton of hyprocrisy going on when people compare RTD's writing and Moffat's on dw but nothing irks me more than when they say Moffat era made the doctor too important when he was portrayed as just a guy in RTD. Like. Are you fucking kidding me. Be for real.

In the GODDAMN first episode, one of the first thing we learn about the doctor is through Clive (rip) in that scene :

The Doctor is a legend woven throughout history. When disaster comes, he's there. He brings the storm in his wake and he has one constant companion. ROSE: Who's that? CLIVE: Death.

So yeah the Doctor is a Legend. Next, in New Earth he is called "the lonely God". Very normal guy core.

It gets worse, who could forget this wonderful speech in The Family of Blood ?

LATIMER: Because it was waiting. And because I was so scared of the Doctor. JOAN: Why? LATIMER: Because I've seen him. He's like fire and ice and rage. He's like the night and the storm in the heart of the sun. DOCTOR: Stop it. LATIMER: He's ancient and forever. He burns at the centre of time and he can see the turn of the universe. DOCTOR: Stop it! I said stop it. LATIMER: And he's wonderful.

The Next one is by Steven Moffat but crucially still during 10s era so STILL part of how the doctor was characterised. RTD approved you might say.

DOCTOR: Don't play games with me. You just killed someone I liked. That is not a safe place to stand. I'm the Doctor, and you're in the biggest library in the universe. Look me up. (There is a pause, then the shadows withdraw.) ANITA: You have one day.

I added it because I saw people act as if the Eleventh Hour's resolution with a doctor boast was completly out of character and not something he literaly did one series before.

Ok now for the real silly, that scene in Last of the Time Lords where the power of PRAYER turned 10 young and hyper powerful. For real. Yeah like a sort of Space Jesus.

Bonus: that part in Voyage of the Damned when he flied with two angels lifting him like ok lmao.

Those were just the ones I could remember out of the top of my head but "just a guy" my entire fucking ass. Go rewatch that show.

I feel like Moffat is often accused of turning the doctor into too much of an incredibly powerful figure not because he did it more than RTD but because he discussed the trope and as such put a lot of attention on it . All of those I pointed out in RTD are played incredibly straight but in Moffat's era the doctor's legend is a problem. It's the plot of the s5 finale, he became so big his ennemies allied. It's the reason he gets called out in "A good man goes to war"

RIVER: This was exactly you. All this. All of it. You make them so afraid. When you began, all those years ago, sailing off to see the universe, did you ever think you'd become this? The man who can turn an army around at the mention of his name. Doctor. The word for healer and wise man throughout the universe. We get that word from you, you know. But if you carry on the way you are, what might that word come to mean? To the people of the Gamma Forests, the word Doctor means mighty warrior. How far you've come. And now they've taken a child, the child of your best friends, and they're going to turn her into a weapon just to bring you down. And all this, my love, in fear of you.

It continues in Asylum of the Daleks where Moffat tries to erase the doctor's legend and is concluded somewhat in s8 finale with the proposition that what the doctor actually is, is in fact an idiot.

DOCTOR: I really didn't know. I wasn't sure. You lose sight sometimes. Thank you! I am not a good man! I am not a bad man. I am not a hero. And I'm definitely not a president. And no, I'm not an officer. Do you know what I am? I am an idiot, with a box and a screwdriver. Just passing through, helping out, learning. I don't need an army. I never have, because I've got them. Always them. Because love, it's not an emotion. Love is a promise.

But nobody saying stuff like "Moffat made the doctor too important" ever watched Capaldi's era anyway so it's not like they would know.

[3llix]

Art Advice I’ve Picked Up

This is mostly aimed at myself, someone who’s been doing art a long time, and someone who made their hobby into their job and how it fucking sucks. This isn't advice for art as a career, more for those who got burned from trying to make it their career, and now want to turn it back into a passion or hobby.

Don’t draw through the pain, don’t try to power through the pain, it doesn’t work. It’s never worth it and you will fuck up your hands, arms and shoulders.

Take a break, take the damn break, rest your arms, hands whatever and do the stretches! They do work! 

Taking a break obviously helps if you’re hitting a brick wall with drawing, you might feel like everything you make is shit and a ton of other awful thoughts. Take a break, get a drink, some food or walk around and come back later

If the shitty feelings persist, move on to something else and tell yourself that the bad feelings don’t last forever, you won’t feel like a shitty artist forever. That feeling could go away in a day, or even an hour.

Imposter syndrome is awful and will try to ruin your day, be aware of it, I still struggle a lot with it too. But just by realising it exists can you make you more self aware about it in future.

Just because you’re good at art doesn’t mean you should make it your job. Turning any hobby into a job will make you lose the love for it.

You will burnout if you try to keep art a job and a hobby, you will not have time to draw for yourself, you will not be able work on all those passion projects and ideas. You will burn out, you will start to hate art.

This happened to me, and I’m still trying to unlearn the unhealthy habits I formed when it was my job, it’s very hard making art fun, and indulgent for myself. But I’m trying.

If you do make art your job, make sure you have hobbies that are not related to art. It’s really good if one of these hobbies can be outdoorsy too, I like biking a lot. But do what you can with what you have.

There will never be a perfect time to start drawing, or any other creative project. You can clear a whole month to work on something and you will waste that time, because your trying to make a perfect moment to be creative you’re putting unnecessary pressure on yourself.

The only perfect moment is now.

The perfect materials are what you have with you.

The only skills you have are the ones you have now.

No waiting until you can draw or write better, or saving a project till you’re more skilled, the only time to do it is now, even if you’re writing in between bus journeys or doodling on a scrap of paper, make that new Renpy file while waiting for the microwave to ding.

Learning to make that first step is also the most important, and learning that the first stroke doesn’t have to be so precious.

Learning when to give up on something that isn’t working is also a good skill. Sometimes a project doesn’t work out and we don’t finish it or we need to quit, it can be painful but there’s still a lot to learn from unfinished works.

You can recycle old ideas, nothing is wasted even if you don’t finish.

Trim your dreams, TRIM THE DAMN DREAMS. 

Don’t let s project outgrow your skills, or what you’re actually capable of, there’s a lot of things to take into consideration like, money, time, energy.

You can start a big, huge projects and realise it wasn’t what your actually wanted to make in the first place.

Making a game? Why are you making a 20 plus hour, 3D platform shooter with puzzle and farming mechanics as a solo dev? Trim those damn dreams. Dreaming is good and I know it’s fun but it’s easy to let an idea grow into an oak tree, it becomes all consuming and a burden to carry round.

So trim back, oak trees are beautiful but never underestimate a daisy

And eventually you could have a whole field of flowers and shrubs, instead of one oak tree.

Trying to find an audience online is bullshit, trying to create art that’s got mass appeal is bullshit, social media is a horrible place for creative pursuits, but it’s the best we have at the minute.

Make the things you want to see, I know that’s in a lot of art advice but that's because it’s true. You can fall into a trap of thinking only in numbers and engagement, of chasing praise and approval and in the end it will feel hollow, because you only ever made things to appeal to others.

And so you your only gain approval and engagement from a place that isn't authentic.

So yes, make that self insert OC, or “Cringey” dating Sim

Also, trying to find an audience can trap you into doing one thing, aka a one trick pony, because you’re are rewarded for making repetitive “content” with engagement and likes, and punished when you try something new, because it doesn’t do as well.

Never fucking call your art/creations “content.” You are not a machine making things to be consumed.

You have limited resources when it comes to art, both in time, money and even your own body.

Yes, you do have to treat your own body as a limited resource, like the very first tips, its so easy to destroy your own body in the pursuit of creating something, your eyes, hands, arms, shoulders even your brain.

So take every shortcut you can, trace 3d models, use photographs for backgrounds whatever you think of that can make the creation process easier and less time-consuming, you'll thank yourself later, when you can still pick up a pen without vice like pain.

That’s all I can think of for now, but I’ll update it if I think of something else, I’m sorry for spelling errors and if it sounds a little bitter, I started this when I was suffering a spell of tendinitis in my wrist. I mostly wrote this as a reminder to myself, but I hope maybe it can help someone else out. 💜

Also I know large blocks of text can be overwhelming, so I tried to break it up with some little snippets of my own art, hopefully it makes it a little easier to read. 

[justacrazylittlefangirl]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY JOSEPH QUINN!!!!

It's hard to believe no one knew the name "Eddie Munson" yet on Joe's last birthday, and a good amount of us (myself included) had never even laid eyes on the boy himself before. LOOK AT HIM NOW!!

A lot of people probably say this, but Eddie changed my life. He connected me to a number of wonderful people, several of which are now among my tightest inner circle. That community, and Joe-slash-Eddie, were my biggest support system during an intensely traumatic health scare my mom experienced back in September. (She's okay now, but I will never forget my Hellfire fam pulling together and keeping my head above water during that ordeal. I am forever grateful to them for that.)

As for Eddie himself, and Joe's portrayal of him ... where do I even start?? I know a lot of people will be sharing their stories from the perspective of being LGBTQ+, and I'm just a cishet girl with a fuck-ton of insecurities, but he still means more to me than I can express. It was Eddie that gave me the courage to actually register for that acting class I'd been eyeballing since June - my first ever. I carried Eddie with me when I drove with an instructor for the first time, something I never thought I'd be able to do; the thought alone would send me into a panic. When I had to face my old doctor for the last time, bracing myself for another appointment filled with bullying, coercion, scare tactics, gaslighting, and condescension, it was Eddie that gave me strength.

He reminds me every day that, if you want to be dark and weird, be dark and weird. Don't tone yourself down for other people. Be aggressive, be loud. He reminds me that, when they call you a freak, be aggressively dark and weird even louder. You have nothing to be ashamed of. Enjoy your noisy music and your nerdy game and your niche interests. Be a theater kid and a metalhead and a horror buff and a dramatic nerd, all at once - you don't have to pick. Wear the studded belt and the chunky gothic rings and the leather jacket - you don't have to "earn" them. Grow your hair out, or chop it off. Feel your way towards who you really are, and when you find what that looks like for you, dive in headfirst. Whatever you become, you'll be great.

Here's to many, many more, Joseph. Thank you for everything. Your Hellfire family loves you so very much. 🖤🖤🖤🦇🦇🦇

[sapphic-woes]

Wedding headcanons for Ambessa? Im obsessed 😫

Doing this with maid!Reader cuz I think they're cute together (sorry this took forever as u can see I got carried away)

Marrying Ambessa

So I think it would be intense

For Ambessa, she wants this. She wants to have you by her side at all times. She wants to let the whole kingdom know you're hers, adorn you with various jewels and silk. She wants to be able to call your name and then tack on her last, speak the new title of her wife over and over.

This wedding is out of love, yes. but make no mistake–it's a public claim over your life. No one is allowed to touch you now, unless they want to be her enemy, and–oh fuck.

Sometime halfway through the wedding preparations, Ambessa suddenly remembers she has a shit ton of those...and to her horror, also remembers you're anything but a seasoned warrior like her.

You had never seen Ambessa nervous. Your warlord was always calm and collected. An image of excellence and beauty, a woman who could never be shaken...but now?

"Why? I would not fault you if you had said no. Now...you're throwing yourself to the wolves." She spoke quite clearly despite having her face buried into your chest. Her breath was ticklish, warm as she voiced her concerns. It was the night before the big day, and you'd noticed she'd been restless recently.

However, you never would have thought it was because of this.

"Lady..." You muttered as you traced the scar across her forehead, "If I may speak freely." She nodded into your chest, arms tightening around your waist...as if to brace herself. You paused at the movement, smiling warmly.

"No matter the danger, if it means my heart can freely be yours...and yours be mine..." You whispered as your thumb moved to gently guide Ambessa's face up towards your own.

Her eyes were heavy, torn between wanting you and wanting to protect you. To make you her wife would result in putting a target on your back. To never have you as hers to cherish and adore before the eyes of her people would be tortuous. You knew the turmoil your Lady felt, voice gentle as you reassured her.

"I would gladly risk everything, as you already are everything to me, Lady. I still am amazed I get to hold you like this, love you as I've only ever imagined before..." You trailed off, face growing warm from your own embarrassment. Ambessa's eyes softened at the sight, chest tightening with love.

How had she ever managed to capture someone so precious? So simple that you only concerned yourself with matters of the heart and nothing more? Your naivety made her only swear in her heart to protect you with all her strength, and she breathes out a heavy sigh.

"You are too good for me." It was all she said before she pulled you impossibly close, voice a breathtaking vibration over your soul. "Or for the world I have brought you into..."

She did not display an ounce of her worry the next day. Not in such a vulnerable way at least.

Ambessa stalked around like a caged lion for a good part of the morning. She held you like someone staking her claim–eyes piercing anyone who so much as spoke to you. It was nearly overbearing devotion until it was time for her to leave and get ready, and even then she was reluctant to go.

The man that usually guarded Ambessa whenever she travelled was assigned to you. Neither of you had really spoken together, but there was a sense of comradely in the simple belief that Ambessa was perfection. A questioning gaze and a shrug was all that transpired between you two, but it was worth an entire conversation.

She's scared for you. Was the unspoken explanation in the room, and you understood why.

Anything could happen. You could be shot walking down the isle, attacked by an assassin disguised as a maid–anything. This was Noxus, a land bridled with war...but not all acts of war came from the battlefield.

That was when you truly began to think of what you were doing.

Before, you were in simple bliss. Your Lady was marrying you. Your brilliant warlord, the woman you worshipped in both public service and private matters–she had, out of everyone on this earth, chosen you.

You still felt that giddiness, but now you wondered...just how fit you were for this role. You would gladly die for a second of being her beloved, but what if you brought her down as her wife? What if you failed her? What if–

"Y/n..." You jolted at the smooth, soft voice at the door, turning to find Ambessa's daughter behind you. "It's time."

Oh.

You had only met Mel a handful of times. She had never been rude to you, merely standoffish until she realized you were so stupidly in love with Ambessa you weren't capable of harming her in any way. Then she'd quickly warmed up to you, and now she gently smiled.

"Trust me...she needs you." How she knew of the turmoil in your mind, you didn't know. But you greatly needed those words. You held back tears, sniffling with a nod before standing.

In Noxus, white was not the color brides wore, but rather red. The long, flowing ball gown felt odd on you, used to your uniform or on occasion, pretty dresses Ambessa coaxed you to accept. However, this was nothing like anything your Lady had given to you before. This had to be worth several years of working at the palace alone.

You took Mel's arm with a shaky breath, only to see Mel let out the same. Though she tried to be stoic, it was clear that this day meant a lot to her as well. You smiled up and her, and she offered you a strained one back, patting your hand.

Then, it finally began:

To be married in a palace was a dream. But to be married to the warlord of Noxus, it seemed, was to experience paradise.

Rose petals fell from the aerial silk dancers above. Soldiers holding poles with banners of the Noxian flag lined each side of the room. There was a gap in the very center of the room's ceiling, letting in the soft rays of the setting sun.

The gray silk and shimmering lights lining your path down to Ambessa twinkled in anticipation, reminding you so much of your own heart. The air was crisp with something new. Something good, and as you looked to her, you knew she felt it too.

You hoped the flowers in your hair stayed still. You hoped you walked as elegantly as Mel did beside you. You wanted to look as good as Ambessa did, dressed in all black. It was a mix of armor and her royal attire, detailed with silver linings and a long red cloak draped over her right side.

She looks like a king, was your first thought as you finally stood before her, my king.

It seemed that she was pleased with you as well. Her eyes swept across your body, over and and over, and her cheeks warmed. Her lips curled...and Ambessa beamed.

She beamed like you did whenever she called you hers. A smile of pure, infectious joy, making you smile back as well. The priest began, and it was a blur–you both could only focus on one another–and when it finally came time, the I dos were spoken with such conviction...it was as if neither of you ever worried about this moment at all.

[goodlucktai]

(I feel like I should finish your prompt first but. These ones are so good....feel free to ignore if you have too many asks but 29 or 33 with chocobros...?

PROMPTS LIST

33. “Are you SURE I can’t punch him in the face?” “Yes.” “What if I just break his nose a little?”

ik i just did this one for natsuyuu but...........chocobros

x

They're somewhere in Duscae, near enough to the coast that each breeze carries a hint of the sea, on another errand for another stranger to scrape together enough gil to eat tonight.

They've stopped at the last little roadside cluster of shops before the countryside stretches far and wide and wild, stocking up on what meager supplies they can afford.

Noctis has never lived this way before. He's never gone to bed hungry before. Neither has Gladio or Ignis, for all their world-weariness and the general practical knowledge and common sense they walk around with that far surpasses Noctis' own.

Ignis can budget with the best of them, and Gladio is willing to eat literally anything at any time, but Prompto is the one who gets it.

He chats at length about all the times he's had to get creative with pasta or rice because it was all that was left in his pantry. Back in high school, when he could only work part-time. When someone should have been taking care of him, and instead he was left to figure out how to stretch a tiny budget much farther than made sense.

"Come on, Iggy," he said once when they were out shopping, half-laughing. Like he thought Ignis was joking. "Fresh produce? We've got like a hundred gil between the four of us and we're totally out of restoratives."

And Ignis paused, and glanced sidelong at him. He put back the crisp, flowery vegetables and pulled out his little notebook and asked for suggestions instead. It took Prompto a few minutes to convince himsef that Ignis was taking him seriously, but now they like, bond over canned fruit.

"I'm gonna kill this catoblepas with my bare hands," Gladio says with feeling, leaning against the car. "I'm so godsdamned sick of pasta. Don't tell Iggy I said that."

Noctis rolls an energy drink between his hands absently, brow furrowed. It's tricky business, and he's not very good at it just yet, but home-made elixirs save them a ton of gil. He feels guilty when they have to spend their money on something he should be able to do himself.

"I'm telling him," he says without missing a beat. "He'll never forget, and he'll give you shit every single time you make cup noodles from now on, forever."

"I can't stand you," Gladio tells him seriously.

The bell above the door of the convenience store rings brightly, and Noctis glances up to see Ignis and Prompto walking out looking a lot more cheerful than they did going in.

Gladio's face does something very subtle and specific when he sees them, there and gone in a second, before Noctis can pin it down and figure it out.

"What are you two chucklefucks up to?" he calls over. Ignis immediately narrows a disapproving stare at him, but Prompto beams.

"I got a commission, sort of!" he says.

"A commission?" Noctis parrots, sending the energy drink back to the Armiger.

"Sort of?" Gladio adds.

"While we were checking out, the store-owner saw my camera, and seemed really into it," Prompto says. "Since, you know. It's unique."

Noctis does know. The digital camera hanging at Prompto's side has been with him since Noctis first bought it for him three years ago. He would rebuild it every so often, bowed over a collection of impossibly tiny parts spread out carefully across a dish towel at the kitchen table in Noctis' apartment. To call it unique is a bit of an understatement.

Gladio frowns, sensing where this is going a split-second before Noctis does. "And?"

"And he offered me money for it! Like, more than it's worth probably. A lot more."

"I don't see how that could be possible," Ignis says smoothly, leaning through the open window of the Regalia to put the shopping bag in the backseat. "Since your camera is clearly priceless. Which is what I explained to the man."

Noctis relaxes, glad that Ignis and Prompto have bonded over shopping to the point that neither of them want to do it unless they can go together-- because if Prompto had been in there by himself, he 100% would have sold his camera. He would have hated to do it, but he would have done it. It's like he thinks he owes his friends something just for letting him exist.

"Good looking out, Specs," Gladio says gruffly. Prompto waffles a bit, looking torn between pleased and embarrassed. Noctis decides to rescue him.

"What commission, though?" he asks.

"Oh, right. Well, he was kind of bummed about the camera, but he asked if he could see some of my photos, and Ignis said we had time-- "

If it were literally anyone else, Noctis thinks, up to and including and especially the Actual Crown Prince, Ignis would have said they were in a hurry and not to show off.

"--and he seemed really impressed! With the photos! I told him we were going to take down a catoblepas, and he asked why, and I said for some cash, I mean, clearly," Prompto adds, gesturing at the four of them and their general road grime. "So he, ah-- well he's never seen a catoblepas up close before, and he said if I could get some good pictures of it, he'd pay me for them. He gave me a figure, and it's, like, better than some of the jobs I've done for Vyv."

He's delighted, clearly. He likes feeling like he's pulling his own weight. Noctis is always so relieved when Vyv calls, not because of the inherent payday, but more because it puts this light in Prompto's eyes that Noctis would easily climb a hundred volcanic mountains for.

"Damn, Prompto, at this rate you'll have funded our whole trip," Gladio says. He doesn't ruffle his hair anymore, because Prompto actually hates that, just sort of scrunches his fingers through it instead. Prompto doesn't hate that at all. It's adorable.

Sometimes in the early morning, when he and Noctis are the last to drag themselves out of the tiny camper, they'll do their affirmations together:

"Gotta be our best today," Noctis will say, and Prompto will put on this absurdly determined expression, bed hair hanging into his eyes and cheek still creased pink from the pillow.

"Gotta get those hair scrunches," he'll reply gravely.

"What else did he say, Prompto?" Ignis says in a pleasant tone of voice that Noctis hasn't trusted since he was seven years old.

"Um! Nothing. Nothing worth repeating, anyway, you know." He is looking completely away from them now, an avoidance tactic if Noctis has ever seen one. "Woah, is that really the time? We better get going if we wanna catch that cow before it gets dark!"

He turns toward the car and runs into Gladio's arm instead.

"He suggested that Prompto's talents would be put to better use in different company," Ignis says, his voice carrying clearly over Prompto's whine of 'nooo, Iggy, let it go.' "He said that if Prompto ever got tired of our lifestyle, his door would be open."

Ah, Noctis thinks, followed by, ouch?

"Oh, fuck that guy," Gladio blurts. "Let me go talk to him."

"No!" Prompto clings to his arm, throwing all his weight into keeping Gladio in place. The Shield, who could bench Prom's entire body weight in one hand, lets himself be detained anyway and pretends to be annoyed about it. "Ignis, why are you causing trouble right now?" Prompto says frantically.

"Transparency is important in a relationship," Ignis replies.

"There's transparency and then there's causing trouble. Noct, tell them."

"I think Gladio should go talk to him," Noctis says immediately. But then Prompto looks betrayed, and it makes Noctis feel awful. "Ugh, okay. Okay. We're leaving. Ignis, Gladio, that's an executive order."

"Are you sure I can't punch him in the face?" Gladio grumbles.

"Am I-- yes, dude!" Prompto half-laughs nervously. "Very sure!"

"What if I just broke his nose a little?"

"Then that would be treason, I guess, cause Noct just said no."

It's with the standard amount of bickering and noise that they climb into the car, the top rolling up over their heads as it starts to drizzle. Ignis pulls smoothly back onto the cracked asphalt road and reaches over to turn the radio on; a peace offering. From the backseat, Noctis can see the corner of Prompto's smile, framed by a flyaway piece of yellow hair.

They live this way now, but they didn't always. Noctis used to have the run of the whole Citadel, had his own penthouse apartment, grew up dodging banquets and lavish dinners. It's not like he likes sleeping on the ground and having nothing to eat. It's not like he chose to lose his home.

But it could be worse. It's not a bad way to live, just Noctis and the people he loves best and these countless hours together. There's a lot of hard work and sometimes he goes to bed hungry but he knows he'll remember these days forever. He knows he'll miss them.

"Hey," he says, over the quiet sound of rain on the windows and the catchy synth-pop crooning out of the speakers. "Don't ever sell your camera, okay?"

Prompto says, "I mean, I wouldn't ever want to."

"Seriously," Noctis presses. He doesn't want to let it go. It feels important. "Your pictures are-- they mean the world to me, Prom. I can't even tell you."

His friend looks bewildered. He's half-turned in his seat, and his eyes stray to Gladio, then jump to Ignis, then settle back on Noctis. Whatever he's looking for, he seems to find it, because he smiles.

"Okay, weirdo," he says, "one fully-documented roadtrip, coming up. I won't leave anything out."

Noctis is counting on it.

[troubatrain]

bad behavior - m. tkachuk

a/n: i don’t know when i started writing consistently but here we are. this another part of this series i was super excited about writing because this song is what put the idea in my head to begin with. quick shout out to @hookingminor​, @tkafuckit​, & @davidpastrsnack​ for reading my work and validating it because i swear i would never finish without you guys sometimes. hope you guys like it!

as per usual i recommend listing to the song while you read!

part of my lovely little lonely series

warnings: smut

“...you tell me, you're insecure, but don't be, stay soft, but don't be gentle, it's altogether mental...” - Bad Behavior - The Maine

I’m not a distraction am I?

Of fucking course you are, Matthew thought, buttoning up his dress shirt while he looked at the fresh marks he bit in your back not even fifteen minutes ago. You were the biggest distraction, Matthew forgoing his pre-game nap just for extra time with you between the sheets. You were a mistake he couldn’t stop making, ignoring the constant pull in his chest whenever you left because you didn’t do anything more than what you gave him.

Really, it was probably karmic punishment for all the shitty things Matthew’s done in his life. The universe would drop his dream girl in front of him but as it turns out, she played the game better than him. It wasn’t like he didn’t get a warning from your best friend Ella who’d been dating Sam from what seemed like the dawn of time. You were a heartbreaker, it was just how it was and that was how it’s going to be. Matthew ignored Ella, taking you home without a second thought because that’s what he wanted too. No Strings Attached. Turns out, he was in over his head when you left one night and the other side of Matthew’s bed felt cold for the first time in his life.

“You’re not a distraction pretty girl,” Matthew nods, curls bouncing against his forehead while he admires you from the otherside of his bedroom, “Are you coming tonight?”

“Are you going to be on your worst behavior?” You ask, rolling out of bed to collect your clothes Matthew never seemed to toss in one place. That’s why you were different, every person in his life telling him to ease up in his game - except you. You loved watching Matthew get into it on the ice because after those games the sex was just better.

Matthew chuckles, watching you unhook your panties from the lamp in the corner of the room and frowning when you saw the tear he ripped in them, “I’ll be on my worst behavior if you’re coming home with me later.”

“Twice in one day is pushing your luck Matthew,” You sigh dramatically, fixing his collar and flattening his tie, “And exhausting for me quite honestly.”

“I’ll be easy,” Matthew suggests, fingers gently pushing a piece of hair from in front of your face. Your eyes flutter shut, enjoying the moment. This made it so hard to keep your distance, the fact that Matthew was more of a gentle giant than he led on most of the time. Sure, he could pull your hair back when he hit it from behind and he made the dirtiest jokes in crowded rooms, but when all was said and done - he was kind. Someone would be lucky to have him one day, but that someone just couldn’t be you.

“You’ve never gone easy on me ever,” You giggle, pressing a kiss against Matthew’s jaw, “Good luck.”

***

Matthew didn’t know why he was so nervous about a silly All Star game, but he was. Maybe it was because it was at home, or maybe Brady’s last minute addition had him reconsidering. Either way, he’d been pacing for the last hour and trying to decide if he should tell you to stay home. He couldn’t do that, as if he was going to deny himself the small sliver of happiness he got every time you decided you wanted to see him. You were in charge, and it changed the playing field for Matthew entirely. It wasn’t like it usually was, Matthew being the one who often found themselves hanging by the phone in hopes you’d call. You didn’t, so Matthew got his hopes up and told you to stop by before he left for St. Louis.

“Hey All Star,” You muse, sneaking inside and taking off your coat. Matthew stops his pacing, smiling to himself that you actually showed up when he asked. No answer to his text, because why would you bother to let him know you were on your way. That would be too easy, and you weren’t by any means easy.

Matthew opened his mouth to ask you how your day was, but shut it once he realized he’d never get an answer. The only things he knew about you were learned from Ella and Sam, not a single detail of anything that happened outside of the walls of Matthew’s apartment was ever mentioned to him by you. You knew tons about him, because he opened up to you so easily it was breaking his heart that you wouldn’t do the same. He wondered why he did this to himself, why he didn’t just find someone who was obsessed with him. He liked the chase, Matthew’s athletic intuitions pushing him to strive for the best prize he could find, and you’d be the best of them all if he could have you.

Instead Matthew did what he always does, he pressed his lips to yours and pushed you up against the door. His hands were on your waist, an ironclad grip as if you’d slip right through his hands if he didn’t stop you. You probably would have.

“What’s wrong?” You question, Matthew confused as to how you knew something was up. His eyebrows furrowed, head cocking to the side like a puppy who was trying to figure out what a new sound was. You laugh, a melodic giggle carrying through Matthew’s almost barren apartment, “Your hands are right above my ass but you failed to touch it once, what’s up?”

“I’m, uh, nervous?” Matthew admits, his weaker parts of his brain succumbing to the pout on your lips. That pout could be what killed him. Matthew wasn’t dealing with it well, it being the newfound pressure he’d been feeling to be a top tier player. People expected him to turn it on for every game, and at first he loved it. Then he realized he no longer got the chance to slack off when all eyes were on him, Matthew had been internally crumbling ever since.

That wasn’t necessarily the only reason he’d been insecure lately. You weren’t helping, but you couldn’t be hurting him that much. Maybe you were. Matthew was trying really hard to be cool, but he was failing miserably. He got jealous more often than he liked to admit, and he was a liar if he didn’t deep dive your Instagram to see if you were very clearly seeing someone else. He was gone a lot, and you didn’t owe him any sort of explanation and he knew that. He knew he respected you enough not to ask but he liked you enough to care, and it was eating him alive.

“Pressure’s a lot, I just don’t feel like, you know,” Matthew explains, fumbling over his words and waving his hands because he didn’t want to say it. His voice got lower, words mumbled together when he spoke, “I’m insecure.”

“Don’t be,” You shrug, a wide confident smile on your face. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t a little surprised by Matthew, because as far as you knew he was a big bad guy, or at least he thought he was. You thought it was all bullshit, but you did often think that kind of pressure couldn’t be healthy. Every fiber of your being told you to run, that this was getting too emotional and if you didn’t stop you were going to ruin him forever. You did it all the time, your heart wasn’t built for more than a night and you were just accepting it. If you weren’t going to be able to stop self destructing anyone who tries to connect to you emotionally besides your loved ones you protected so fiercely - then you were going to have fun.

Which is what you thought you were getting into. You took Matthew home with nothing but his reputation spinning around in your head that he was the perfect conquest. Then you fucked, and it was too good to give up. So you kept him at arms length, never giving into those damn eyes and his frown whenever you left after you had sex. It was better that way, for both of you really.

“That’s all you got for me?” Matthew asks, stifling a laugh at your simple answer. He was admitting to you something he’s never let another soul know but you simply just shrugged.

“Okay, how about this,” You take a deep breath, snaking your hands under his shirt and grazing your nails against his skin.

You’re Matthew fucking Tkachuk. Your lips pressed against his jaw, a smirk gracing his face. You don’t give a fuck who’s in your way, you’ll hit them. Your lips moved to his ear, whispering softly. You’re what Doughty’s nightmares are made of. Your hands slipped down, playing with the waistband on his boxers. And you can score with the best of them, on and off the ice. Matthew laughed at that one, a smug smile back on his face where it rightfully should be. You have nothing to worry about.

Both of Matthew’s large hands landed on your cheeks, calloused fingers rubbing against your skin and his lips on yours. He didn’t need to say anything, he’d show you just how badly he needed that. Matthew pushed you towards his bedroom, your back hitting the plush mattress. You tossed your hoodie off, Matthew losing his at the same time. You admired him, the way his muscles were defined in the moonlight from his windows. Matthew’s hands slid down your back, unclasping your bra with one hand and smirking to himself when it slid off. You stroked his ego for a reason, one that ran a chill up your spine while he pressed kisses down your body.

“You’re fucking sexy,” Matthew mutters into your skin, sliding off your leggings and eyes practically rolling to the back of his head when a pair of lacy red panties caught his attention. His finger slid underneath them, fingers slick from your core, “And wet too huh?”

“Do you plan on doing something about it or should I call someone else,” You tease, Matthew’s free hand gripped your thigh when you spoke, jealousy coursing through his veins. He finger pulled against your panties, a loud rip catching your attention, “Matthew!”

“Don’t joke like that then, I’ll take care of you just fine on my fucking own,” Matthew growls, lips ghosting your clit. You whimper, running a hair through Matthew’s hair. His tongue lapped at your pussy, trying to remind you just why you couldn’t shake him. He was competitive, and if he had to fight for his spot in your line up he’d do it. You were a mess, a string of curses falling through your lips and your moans echoing in the room.

“Matty, fuck,” You let out a cry, gripping his curls tightly. Matthew flicked your clit with his tongue, a gasp leaving your mouth. Matthew went to overdrive, his well skilled tongue moving quickly to send you over the edge. You grinded against his mouth, his hands holding down your waist so he could keep going while you came on his face. You finally push his head back, unable to take anymore.

Matthew crawls back up your body, capturing your lips with his and kicking off his boxers. You push him onto his back gently, a smug smile on his face and his hands landing behind his head, “A show?”

“Shut up,” You shake your head, letting out a laugh while you straddle Matthew. You pumped him a few times, lining his cock up with your pussy and easing yourself onto him.

“You look so good on top of me,” Matthew muses, a cocky tone to his voice. You grab the overgrown curls on the nape of his neck, rolling your hips against him and smirking when a groan left his lips, “My perfect fucking girl.”

Matthew’s hand smacked your ass while you rode him at your own speed. His free hand gripped your hip, speeding up your pace. Matthew loved being on top, a translation of his control that he desperately craved, but he let you do whatever you wanted. His hand snuck up your body, hand gently gripping your neck, “If you leave a mark this time Matthew-”

Matthew chuckles, remembering the borderline vicious threats you sent him the last time his grip got a little too tight and you didn’t realize until the next day. Matthew pulls you down to meet his lips, flipping you over onto your and back wrapping on your legs around his waist. His forehead pressed against yours, something you noticed he'd been doing more often lately, “Cum for me, fuck, c’mon.”

“Harder,” You nod, eager to chase your high and give him what you knew he wanted. He liked to get you off, the satisfaction of pleasing you did it for him, Matthew often bragging about how much a giver he really was. Your pussy fluttered around him, Matthew pulling his cock out and spilling onto your stomach. He looked down at you, completely fucked out with his cum on you like you were his. Your eyes were glassy, lips swollen from his while you caught your breath, “Shit.”

Matthew laughs lightly, walking into the en suite bathroom to get you a towel. He was always gentle afterwards, taking care of you after he absolutely wrecked you as if it was going to remind you that maybe he deserved more than you were giving to anyone else. You tuck your head into Matthew’s pillow, sleep about to take over your body. You never stayed, your own little rule because you just knew if you let him hold you it would be over, “Just stay, you look tired pretty girl.”

Matthew’s voice was gentle, his finger running along your bareback lightly while he offered you a shirt in the other. He wanted you to stay so badly, “Matty-”

“My flight leaves in a few hours, it’s like a nap,” Matthew whispers, and you smile at his excuse for you to sleepover. You nod, sitting up and tossing on whatever gray t-shirt he’d given you. You didn’t know, but it was his favorite shirt in the world, the fabric soft like a tee that had been well loved.

Matthew was supposed to have woken you up before he left, dropping you off at your place before he headed to the airport to go home. He was going to, he swore he really was, but when he was leaving you looked so damn cute snoring away in his favorite shirt. So he left you a note, telling you to lock up before you left and that he’d see you the day he got back. You woke up peacefully, the light shining through the floor to ceiling windows in Matthew’s apartment and rolling your eyes at his note. You grab your phone, smiling when you notice he left it charging for you. 

You told me it was a nap.

Maybe you shouldn’t look so cute when you sleep then.

You roll over screaming in the pillow because you were going to ruin him.

***

Matthew had enough of the waiting game.

It's been nine days since that night and Matthew was losing his fucking mind. He was playing like absolute garbage, his name off the scoresheet since the All Star break. Matthew was lashing out left and right, both against the opposition and his own friends when they grew concerned. He thought about moving on, even calling up an old fling. That didn’t end well, Matthew moaning your name by accident in bed and then she left almost immediately after. He was frustrated with himself for getting this invested, but you were intoxicating. Matthew left the Saddledome after another shit game and drove to your place, with the intent that you were either going to hear him out or he was going to have to cut you out of his life.

“Hi?” You were confused when you saw him on the other side of the door, you leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. You were already pressed, wondering what Matthew thought he was doing banging on your apartment door. He looked pissed, bags under his eyes like he hasn’t slept in days and you were already rolling your eyes at the tweets about him being a bust.

“I can’t do this shit anymore,” Matthew steps inside, stomping into your space and gritting his words, “You have this hold on me, and I know I told you I could be cool about this but I can’t be. I’m fucking jealous of every other dude you could be with and I think about it all the time-”

“And I’m a heartless bitch,” You hiss, every wall you had just got taller. Your words could cut like a knife, and you were ready to let Matthew have it, “I’ve heard it from everyone, I ruin people Matthew, save me the argument.”

“You’re not going to ruin me, I know you, fuck,” Matthew steps forward, every bit of anger in his body disappearing when he saw the way you lip was starting to quiver. His voice got lower, his thumb running along your jaw, “I know you think you bring out the worst in me, but you bring out my best too.”

“I’m going to hurt you, I always do,” You whisper, averting your eyes down so you didn’t have to look at him.

“Then hurt me later,” Matthew took this as his turn to shrug, try and take a page in your book and be a little nonchalant, “For now, could we just try this out? No games, no one else, just us.”

“This is bad for you Matthew,” You give him one more warning, pulling him closer to you and tugging on the curls at the nape of his neck.

“Be bad for me then,” Matthew groans, grabbing a handful of your ass and pressing a kiss to your lips.

“Matthew!”

[jenojaemssss]

stay next to me

a/n: repost bc i think i accidentally deleted it when i was trying to edit it LOL anyways, this is a new style for me so hope you guys enjoy! based on this song by quinn xcii and chelsea cutler

warnings: there IS a makeout session so be advised :D

jaemin and you are pushed against a wall about 2 feet away from each other

when i say pushed against a wall, i mean quite literally pushed against the wall

because there were maybe 20 people dancing around you

and they were all shoving and jumping and swinging their arms back and forth

and no way in hell do you want to be swept away in that mob

the space around you was probably 7 square feet at most with too many sweaty bodies surrounding you

like there are probably 400 people at this place because no way the carrying capacity of 250 would put you in this situation

and you're sweaty and sticky

and so is jaemin

because there are just way too many fucking people

you're trying your best to keep your drink from spilling over because everyone is shoving

jaemin looks just as uncomfortable

you notice this because what kind of best friend are you if you can't tell that he was feeling uncomfortable?

so you reach over to feel for his hand but before you reach it you accidentally brush your hand over someone's butt

and then someone's boob

and then someone's crotch

but you finally reach his hand

you hold onto his hand and he holds yours back

he pulls you in a little closer

you're pressed against each other's sides

sharing even more heat because of how close you are

"i don't even know this band," he yells over the noise

you chuckle in response and nod

"me neither!"

"let's dip?"

you can feel his hot breath on your ear

but you're dumb enough to look up

and you're met with his smile

his smile, god his smile

he was so close too

and you just wanted to kiss him but you shouldn't because he's your best friend

so you nod instead of doing anything dumb

he takes you and literally has to drag you away from the crowd

but you make it to the front door of the club

when you step foot out of the door and feel actual air

you both let out the biggest sigh

deep breaths and all

his hand is still holding yours and you were about to pull away but he just grips it tighter

"are we going somewhere, jaem?"

"anywhere but here," he chuckles

it's the chuckle that kind of rumbles from his chest

and you find that shit so attractive

you guys don't say anything else

you just lead him down the busy streets

it's dark out, but the streetlights and cars are lighting up the road

and it's just so pretty

but there's something prettier?

jaemin.

he looks so pretty illuminated by the lights and you can't help but gawk at him

like, normally yellow lights make people's skin look a little off and saturated

but this man looks so fucking good with this kind of lighting

nah, any kind of lighting

you realize how hard you're staring and focus on the road instead

he's still holding your hand, by the way

and honestly, it was kinda normal for him to hold your hand because he likes affection

correction

he likes affection only when he's comfortable with that person

but this was weird because he doesn't often hold your hand for this long

but hey, you guys are wandering around the city and it's fun

and you were both a little tipsy

not drunk

just one or two drinks each

so tipsy

and then you reach a place that reminds you of something and you smile

it was a skate park that your friends dragged you too a lot

jaemin notices this and leads you there

and he buys both of you water from the vending machine

and you guys just sit down and talk about life and whatnot

like school, jobs, whatever that comes up

he mentions something about prom and high school sweethearts because he sees a group of teens running down the street and laughing

and he's reminiscing how the two of you ditched prom to get mcdonald's your senior year

and then you bring up the topic of first loves

jaemin goes speechless when you ask him who his first love was

because little did you know, jaemin was also pining over you

so he tries switching the subject to something else

he doesn't answer you and shoots you a question instead

"when was the last time you've been in love?"

you're not sure what the hell comes over you but you respond

"now."

and he's like

O.O

and you just blush

and he's like

"same."

and your heart lowkey drops because you're not sure who it is

then you look at his face and realize that he's also blushing

and then it clicks in your airhead

oh.

"cool," is all you can get out 'cause????

jaemin loves you back?

"'cool?' y/n we just confessed and your only response is 'cool?'"

"we confessed?"

"yes, i thought it was obvious?"

"well then yes, because i'm not sure what to do in this situation."

he suddenly lets go of your hand

and you're scared you did something wrong so you look up from your feet

but before you can bring your head all the way up he's already cupping your cheeks

and he's leaning in

you're just frozen because jaemin is about to kiss you???

you?????

and right before he reaches your lips he asks for your permission

"can i kiss you?"

and instead of answering you meet his lips with your own

and now the two of you are kissing

his lips, god you wish you can kiss him forever because they feel like clouds

he smiles mid-kiss and your heart skips like 20 beats

his breath still had the slight hint of burnt whisky

it's so damn addicting

he pokes his tongue against your lips and you slightly open your mouth a little to give him access

and you swear there are spurts of electricity jolting through your body

you're quite literally melting into his touch

and his lips

you two continue to kiss and it's just like you're in heaven but on earth

did i mention how his lips felt like clouds?

sure, they're a little chapped but they're still the softest pair of lips you've ever laid eyes...i mean lips on

it's like his lips and yours were made for each other because the movements the two of you make send chills down your spine

you're breathless at this point

when he finally pulls away you're both grinning like idiots

he rests his forehead against yours and you use this opportunity to reach up a little bit and give him a peck

and he smiles even wider

he grabs you and pulls you into his arms and you rest your head on his chest

you're both leaning against the wall of one of the ramps so he takes this as an opportunity to throw one arm behind your shoulder

he places little kisses on your hairline and whispers little sweet nothings

but then he asks you

"what now?"

"what do you mean?"

"what are we now?"

"jaemin," you sit up straight and look at him dead in the eyes

"will you," you point at him

"be my," you gesture towards yourself

"boyfriend?"

"are you drunk right now?"

"NO! i'm dead serious," and you are

"yes, y/n, i will be your boyfriend," he chuckles and pulls you back into his arms

you hear his heart beating in his chest and you feel so calm

because although his heartbeat was a little fast, it seems to be matching the same rhythm as yours

"it's getting late," you mumble after checking your phone

you turn your head a little, but jaemin's resting his head on top of yours so you can't really move it

"don't you have places to be tomorrow?"

"i don't care," he murmurs against your hair

"just stay next to me."

a/n pt 2: if y'all can't tell, i get a ton of my inspo from quinn xcii songs:) a lot more are in the works, so i recommend listening his album "a letter to my younger self" bc half of my fics are based on that album LOL

[fruitcoops]

Omg can you write about coops going live on instagram and answering TONS of fans questions? And just being domestic and cute together in general

I can, yes! This is partially the 450 celebration--to the lovely person who suggested writing a sequel to one of my favorites, please know that I love and appreciate you! Coop credit goes to @lumosinlove

Check out Part 1 here

“Is it working? I think it’s working.” An explosion of hearts covered the screen and Remus’ eyebrows rose. “Yep, definitely working. Hello, Instagram! I’m Remus Lupin, winger for the Lions.”

“And I’m Sirius Black, center and team captain.” Sirius waved at the phone. “We had a great time answering your questions last month and we figured we’d come back to do it again, since there were so many people we couldn’t get around to in those few minutes.”

“I can already see a bunch coming in. Should we start?” Remus asked, turning to him with a small smile.

“You go first.”

“Alright, first question….” He squinted at the screen. “How long have we been together? We’ve been dating for just over a year now, but we’ve known each other for three-ish.”

Sirius snorted when he read the next question. “What do we do in our free time? It’s cute that you think we have free time. Um, we read a lot. Sometimes I’ll play video games with the guys.”

“If we have a free weekend, we’ll go hiking or take a short road trip. Practice takes up four or five hours a day, so we’re very low-key, which I think surprises people.” Remus scrolled down a bit. “What are our favorite foods?”

“Don’t say it.” Sirius said immediately. “Don’t you dare.”

“Fine, fine.” Just as Sirius began to answer, he coughed, “pineapple pizza.”

“No!” Sirius smacked Remus on the arm with a pillow as he laughed. “Menace. My favorite food is pasta, because it’s versatile and I’m not a heathen. All of you who are agreeing with him, stop it right now. I’m very disappointed in your tastebuds. Next question…do either of us cook? We do, yeah.”

Remus gave him a look. “Do you, though?”

“That’s a funny thing to hear coming from the man who said he’d die for one of my grilled cheeses yesterday,” Sirius countered.

“Fair point. Yes, we both cook, but I generally do it more often because I enjoy it.”

Sirius looked back at the camera with sad eyes. “He kicked me out of the kitchen last week.”

“You kept stealing bites of soup!” Remus laughed. “It wasn’t even done, you could have gotten salmonella!”

“You can’t get salmonella from soup,” Sirius scoffed. The comment section went wild. “…apparently you can. Huh.”

“Next question, before we get too off-track. Who is the more dramatic one?” Remus folded his hands and rested his chin on top. “I’m giving you three guesses and the first two don’t count.”

Sirius rolled his eyes. “You’re plenty dramatic.”

“Uh-huh, sure.”

“Moving on! Oooo, this one is for me specifically.” He shifted closer, wrapping an arm around Remus’ waist as he read. “Sirius: does Regulus—you spelled that wrong by the way, there’s only one ‘g’—does Regulus still live with you? If yes, how does that work?”

“I’m telling him someone spelled his name wrong,” Remus said as he pulled his phone out of his pocket. “He’ll get a kick out of it.”

“He’ll be so pissed,” Sirius agreed. “Nope, Reg moved out a few months ago and now lives with Pascal Dumais, but it was really neat to have him around. He’s still got a room here and it was nice spending so much time with him after we didn’t talk for a while. He’s awful about vacuuming, though.”

“Aw, people think that’s cute.” Remus smiled as he read the responses. “Ohoho, people are getting nosy. What do we argue about the most?”

“I’m not sure, actually. Maybe chores?”

“I was going to say practice time. We’ve gotten into a couple tiffs about watching tape or running drills after we get home.”

“That’s true.” Sirius frowned at the screen. “For those of you who apparently think that’s all one-sided: it’s really not.”

“He came downstairs to get me at ten or eleven at night the other day. We’re both hockey nerds, so it happens from time to time.”

“Are we going to keep doing tiktoks? Oh, for sure, they’re a ton of fun.”

“Absolutely. Where else am I going to get the inspiration to glue things shut just to irritate him?”

Sirius shook his head with a smile. “Diablotin.”

“Nothing like being called a gremlin by your fiancé,” Remus laughed, tapping the screen. “Okay…who’s the best in bed?”

“I’d say we both sleep really well,” Sirius said. “You talk sometimes, which is really funny.”

Remus glanced over. “Do I really?”

“Yep. I think you were grocery shopping the other night. You kept saying orange juice very adamantly.”

“Interesting. I agree, though, we both value sleep.”

“There are too many questions!” Sirius scooted forward and sifted through them. “To jay-mac 2001, we both love kids and might have some in a few years. No, mermaid queen, we don’t really have friends outside of hockey because we don’t have lives outside of hockey—” Remus leaned his forehead on Sirius’ shoulder as he laughed. “—but I’m sure that will change someday. Oh, here’s a fun one: what are our love languages?”

“Our what?”

“Love languages. Like the Buzzfeed quiz Pots made us take last week.” The screen lit up and Sirius looked offended. “Of course we know what Buzzfeed is! We’re 25, you fuckers!”

“I think mine was quality time.”

Sirius pulled Remus’ arm further around his shoulders and leaned into his side with a smile. “It’s physical affection,” he singsonged, making him laugh. “Your turn.”

“Have you finally found your song?” Remus read aloud. “I think so! We did an interview a while back and there was a question about our ‘couple song’, which we didn’t have at the time.”

“That didn’t answer the question, sweetheart.”

“Oh! Shit, sorry. It’s La Vie En Rose by Edith Piaf.”

Sirius read the next question and snorted. “This is convenient. Who swears more?”

Remus looked away. “It’s, uh, a tie.”

“That’s such a lie.”

He sighed. “It’s probably me.”

“You taught a literal baby to swear.” Sirius turned back to the camera with a wicked grin. “Harry’s first word was ‘Loops’, but his second was ‘shit’ and there’s an eighty percent chance he learned it from Re.”

“Changing the subject!” Remus cleared his throat, then smiled. “Aw, I like this one. What’s the compliment you get most often from your partner?”

“Does it have to be verbal?”

“Sirius.”

Sirius’ eyes went wide. “Not like that! Oh, fuck, I did not mean that! You always touch my hair, so I figured that was a compliment. Merde.”

Remus shook his head. “We need a supervisor again. Anyways, you talk about my freckles all the time and it’s adorable.”

“You’re adorable.”

“Sap.”

“Yeah.” Sirius kissed his cheek. “What’s the best date I’ve ever been on? We went ice skating at the local rink a few weeks ago and it was so much fun. I had never done that before.”

Remus’ eyebrows rose. “I thought for sure you would say the aquarium.”

“The aqu—oh, right! With the jellyfish arch!”

“Yeah!”

“Now it’s a tie, I can’t decide.”

“That’s fair. From spaceman93: who tops? We actually don’t have a bunk bed, though that would be cool as hell! Do you think Ikea sells them?”

“We should check.”

The screen exploded into activity again and Remus did a double-take. “Yes, we do buy our furniture from Ikea, there’s no need to sound so shocked. This person—I can’t read your username, sorry—wants to know which of us is more cuddly.”

“Definitely me,” Sirius said.

“For sure. I like cuddling people, but only a select few. I mean, I’m assuming you guys saw the Cap cuddles slideshow at our last game.” He laughed when Sirius turned pink. “Why are you embarrassed? It was cute!”

“There’s a hashtag now!” Sirius complained. “I have a reputation.” Remus rolled his eyes fondly as Sirius looked for the next question. “Ha! Do we ever get jealous?”

“Yes, but not for the reasons people might think.”

Sirius laughed quietly. “We went out to a bar for Kasey’s birthday a month or so ago—”

“Oh, please no.”

“—and a young lady was hitting on me, not taking the hint—”

“Jesus.”

“—so Re comes out of nowhere and kisses me full on the mouth in front of everyone.” He snickered and Remus hid his face in his hands. “It was kinda hot, not gonna lie. Really funny looking back, though. Your turn, sweetheart.”

“Who is clumsier? Ooh, we’re both disasters off the ice. I tripped over the carpet about twenty minutes ago.”

“I’ve run into every doorframe in this house at least twice.” Sirius grimaced. “If I could just tape my skates to my feet and always be on ice, that would be much safer.”

Remus cocked his head to the side. “I dunno, it would be hard to sleep in them.”

“I do that all that time.”

“That’s true, you take a nap in the hall at least once a week in full gear.”

“Reverse Edward Scissorhands.” They had to take a moment to stop laughing before Sirius turned back to the phone. “Mon dieu. Alright, what do we have next…when did you know I was ‘the one’? When did you know, mon amour?”

“Breaking out the nicknames, very snazzy,” Remus teased as he rested his chin on his hand. “I think it was just an accumulation of things, and then one day I went ‘oh shit’ and just knew. Sometime around New Year’s, maybe?”

“You only made it two months?” Sirius teased, nudging him lightly.

“Shush, you.” Remus nudged him back. “I knew I wanted to propose when I came home from hanging out with Leo and you were napping with the dog. You had done the dishes and left Avatar on so we could watch it together, and I opened the door and knew that I wanted that moment forever.”

Sirius smile was unbearably soft, and he kissed Remus on the cheek as hearts filled the comments section. “I’ve never seen so many keysmashes in my life,” he laughed when he looked back to it. “Hey, someone addressed one to you specifically.”

“Really?” He leaned forward eagerly. “To Remus, do you feel like part of the team yet? I do, a hundred percent! It helped that I was close with a lot of the guys from being the PT, so those friendships carried over really well. Being a player on the roster has only made that better and it’s the best job in the world.”

“Who has the better smile? We’re going to say each other, so I think we’ll leave that one to the comments—fuck, that was a bad idea, it’s moving too fast for me to read!” Sirius tapped the screen desperately, then gave up and waited for the scrolling to slow down. “Ask each other one question you’ve always wanted to know the answer to.”

“Do you actually want to get your ears pierced?” Remus asked. “You talked about it a while ago but I wasn’t sure if you were kidding.”

Sirius thought for a minute, biting his lip. “Y’know, I might. It was one of those things where it started as a joke and then I kept thinking about it. I’m not sure, hockey’s not the best sport to have things that can catch and tear.” They both winced at the idea. “My turn. What is it about pineapple pizza that you actually enjoy?”

“It annoys you.” Remus laughed as Sirius rolled his eyes. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding! I honestly don’t know why I like it so much. There’s something about the sweetness that goes so well with the regular pizza taste. Okay, last question for me: how many freckles do I have? Not many right now.”

“So many in the summer,” Sirius said dreamily. “That’s the best part of summertime and the only reason I like Florida. They might have bouncy ice, but it’s worth it to see the freckles pop.”

“Whew, Florida’s getting mad in the comments!” Remus grinned. “Get some real ice, then come talk to us.”

“Final question, then we really have to go. What does your partner look best in?” Sirius drummed his fingers on his knees. “His jersey. Or my jersey. He does own a pair of skinny jeans, though, and that was the closest thing to a religious experience I’ve ever had.”

“They’re comfortable.” Remus shrugged, but he looked rather self-satisfied. “That’s all we have time for, folks, but thanks for joining us!”

“Go Lions!”

[eternally-writing]

chain reaction 02 | jjk

genre: fluff and angst 

rating: PG 

pairing: Jungkook x reader

theme: college!au , enemies to lovers, series 

word count: 4.6k

warnings: light swearing

synopsis: A semester with your mortal enemy, Jeon Jungkook, as your lab partner was bound to be an experience to remember. 

banner by me!

read part 1 here! 

 If you want to be tagged in future parts, send me an ask! 

--♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡--

When you had imagined what Jeon Jungkook’s apartment would look like, you had definitely thought it would look something like an evil lair (except messy, because Jungkook definitely struck you as the messy type). 

However, upon stepping into his surprisingly well-finished apartment, you found the exact opposite case. Before this, you had planned to make a ton of jokes based on whatever you would find in Jungkook’s apartment. And the truth was, you still could. 

Jeon Jungkook was an absolute neat freak. You watched the way he subtly shuddered as a fleck of dirt from your shoes travelled off of his doormat and you took note of how his kitchen counter was so clean you could probably eat directly off of it (which was especially rare from someone in college). If he had a roommate, there was no trace of him right now, as the apartment pretty much looked like a showhome.

“I didn’t know you were such a clean freak, Jeon,” you said with a smirk.

For the first time, you saw Jeon Jungkook look the slightest bit timid. 

“I like to keep things tidy, I guess,” he said while rubbing the back of his neck with his right hand. 

He gestured for you to enter his quaint but somehow spacious living room as he sped to the kitchen to grab you a glass of water (he may not like you, but he’d be damned by his mother if she found out he let a guest into his place without giving them a beverage).

You had a very clear game plan when it came to entering Jeon Jungkook’s apartment: Enter. Talk about the project (and nothing else). Grab the chemistry notes from the class you missed on Monday. Leave. 

It definitely seemed like an easy peasy 4 step plan  -  except that all seemed to flow out the window once you saw the photo Jungkook kept on his coffee table. From what you could decipher, it looked like a high school aged Jungkook in a music studio, right in front of the mic, with some of his friends around him. You had never seen Jungkook smile as big as he was in that picture, and it even managed to pull at your heartstrings.

Before you could open your mouth to ask about it, Jungkook had already come over to you and slammed the picture to be face down on the table, leaving smiley high school Jungkook out of sight. 

“An invitation into my apartment isn’t an invitation into my private life, Y/N. Don’t get it twisted.” he said coldly, dropping the glass of water hashly onto a coaster by the picture frame. 

To be fair, you kind of deserved that (and looking into Jungkook’s personal life definitely wasn’t part of your 4 step plan to seeing him today), but he didn’t have to be that mean.  As a peace offering you moved as far away from the photo frame as you could.

“Let’s just get this over with, Jeon. I have a pilates class in an hour on the other side of campus.”

Now Jungkook couldn't pass up that opportunity to make a joke. 

“Pilates, mmm.”  He let out an overexaggerated moan to make his point. 

“ Think you can slip my number to the hot girls there Y/N,” said Jungkook with a smirk. 

“In your dreams Jeon. You’re lucky if any girls will still want your number if you fail organic chemistry, which is what you’re going to do if we don’t work on this project.”

“I think you’re forgetting Y/N.” he said as he bent down, bringing his lips to your ear - “if I go down I’m taking you with me sunshine”. 

Ignoring how his close proximity to you was making your heart race (it was probably due to anger, right??), you jumped away from him and pulled out your macbook.

“Our group contract is due tomorrow so let’s just finish that up and then I’ll be out of your hair okay?” you said with an air of desperation and potentially sexual frustration.

For the most part, you and Jungkook worked in silence besides the occasional sound of you typing or clearing your throat. Looking at the live google doc in front of you and the progress you both were making, you were starting to think that working with Jungkook might not be the worst thing in the world. 

Jeon Jungkook and Y/N L/N : CHEM 251 LAB PRESENTATION CONTRACT

Topic - Green Chemistry 

1. Answer all communication from your partner (emails, messages) within 24 hours

2. Complete all portions of assignments at least 1 day before it is due. 

3. Any changes to your availability should be communicated to your partner. 

4. Y/N will handle the background literature and introduction of the presentation. 

5. Jungkook will look for future applications of Green Chemistry and direct applications of course material in the field of Green Chemistry. 

6. Don’t fall in love with your partner. 

As soon as you saw Jungkook type the last point on the document, you glared at him beside you on the couch. 

“Seriously Jeon? I forgot you have the mindset of a 13 year old boy,” you muttered as he looked at you cockily. 

You took a deep breath as your internal monologue started to run: 

Okay, Y/N. you’re not here to let Jeon Jungkook mess with you. 3 strikes and you’re out of here - there’s no reason to need to keep up with his bullshit (especially since at least the first part of your project was over).

Jungkook had then had to add more rules to your group contract. 

7. Y/N will give out Jungkook’s number to any hot girl at her pilates class. 

You groaned and hastily deleted off the document. 

That was strike 1 for Jungkook. 3 strikes and he’s out. 

Jungkook was still relentless in his attacks. 

“Seriously though Y/N, do you really not think I’m attractive at all? You really don’t want a piece of this?,” he said as he wiggled his eyebrows and gestured to his body all too suggestively. 

“Cut it out Jeon, I’m not dealing with your shit today,” you hissed, your eyes shooting metaphorical lasers into Jungkook. 

Strike 2: He’s getting close. 

“C’mon Y/N, what’s the chance that you’ll ever be able to bag someone as hot as me. I mean, look at me and look at you!”

Strike 3: you were DONE  with Jeon Jungkook today.

Not even stopping to put on your shoes fully, you took one last glance back at him before you walked out the door. 

“Fuck you, Jeon Jungkook.”

The glass of water he got you sat untouched on his coffee table, drops of water spilling onto the photo frame beside it due to his apartment shaking from you slamming his door.

Mirroring the new droplets on his coffee table, you found tears starting to drop across your face as well. 

--♡--

Even though you loved your chemistry lecture, you’re not sure why chemistry labs had such a bad vibe to you. The most obvious explanation for this would be having Jeon Jungkook as a lab partner (especially after your last meeting, the situation speaks for itself). But what could be is probably at least part of the reason is because of what happened in your first year 8AM chem lab. After getting through a grueling 3 hour titration (that you messed up and got no results for in the end), you walked back to your dorm to find your (now ex) boyfriend Jimin in bed with your roommate, Soomi. 

Needless to stay you left that day with one less friend, no boyfriend (and you had also gotten 16/30 on that lab… yikes), so chemistry labs did leave a little bit of a bad taste in your mouth. 

It had been months since that incident, but even after getting a new lease and cutting any ties you remotely had to Jimin, you still carried the insecurity that Jimin instilled in you by cheating on you with someone who you thought of as a sister. 

You had yet to run into Jimin against post-breakup, and had managed to successfully avoid him, until now.

“Y/N?” 

You knew that voice all too well. Turning around, you were met with the sight of your ex, Jimin. As if that wasn’t bad enough, as you looked him over you noticed your old roommate, Soomi, hanging off of his arm. You had no clue that they were still together (you had lost all contact with anyone remotely related to Jimin), and somehow seeing them together hurt you even more. 

Jimin looked even prettier than you had last remembered him; his prince-like hair shone in the afternoon sun, his charming smile seemed even brighter. Knowing Jimin was still with Soomi made you feel that he didn’t even feel a pang of regret for cheating on you, like he didn’t need to take some time by himself to reflect (like you definitely did) or stop to grieve your relationship. From your point of view, it seemed like you never even mattered to Jimin. 

You suddenly felt self conscious of everything under the judgmental gazes of Jimin and Soomi. Those baby hairs that you didn’t bother to pin down with a bobby pin this morning now felt like they were sticking straight out of your head and the pimple that was poking through your concealer on your forehead suddenly felt like a volcano. In your mind, compared to Soomi, you looked like a hot mess.

Your brain was on autopilot for all the small-talk you made with the two of them, and you didn’t snap out of your trance until you heard these words from Jimin. 

“I only wish the best for you Y/N”

You internally scoffed at this statement. Who the fuck was Park Jimin to say that he “wishes the best for you”. You took months to get over him and the hurtful words he said to you. Every mean comment and snarky comparisons he made to you felt like it was tattooed onto your skin and stuck with you forever. But now he was standing in front of you like nothing was wrong?

In a different world, you probably would’ve slapped Jimin across the face. But instead you rose above like your mom taught you to. 

“You as well Jimin.” you said courtly with a nod, trying to stop the tears that were pricking at your eyes from escaping your tear ducts. 

After receiving a small nod from Jimin as a response, you turned around as if you had somewhere to be (in reality, you didn’t have class for another 2 hours).

Getting as far away from Jimin was all you could think about at the moment, and you moved as far as your legs could take you in whatever direction you thought would take you out of your college’s quad, even as the tears falling from your eyes blurred your vision.

You didn’t know how to feel. You had imagined what seeing Jimin for the first time after the break up would look like; maybe he would grovel at his knees and beg to have you back (it’s not that you wanted to date him again or that you had feelings for him, but it would feel nice to feel wanted), maybe you would just throw a drink in his face and walk away like a bad bitch, maybe you could’ve flashed a new boyfriend in front of his face. 

All of a sudden your phone started to ring.  Your first fear (and somewhat hope) was that it would be Jimin calling you, but little did you know that it was something so much worse.

Incoming Call: Jeon Boy 

“as if this day couldn’t get any worse,” you thought to yourself as you pressed decline. You had yet to talk to Jungkook since that day at his apartment (you didn’t even call to congratulate him on his 

Incoming Call: Jeon Boy 

You groaned and hit the decline but at the speed of lightning again.

Incoming Call: Jeon Boy

Seriously, could this guy not take a hint? You were tempted to turn your phone off all together, but settled for hitting the decline button again.

Incoming Call: Jeon Boy

You realized that for whatever reason, Jungkook was not giving up, so you either had to answer him or listen to your ringtone of “Love Killa” by Monday X play every 10 seconds. Praying that your voice wouldn’t betray you, you took a deep (albeit shaky) breath and tried your best to wipe your tears before clicking “answer”.

“Look Jeon, I’m - uh - sorry but I really can’t do this right now okay? I’ll call you later.” you choked out, your voice obviously wavering as you tried to be as professional as possible. 

Before you could press the “end call button” you heard Jungkook’s concerned voice through the speakers.

“Y/N, wait, you don’t sound too good. Are you okay?”

Ah yes, “are you okay” - probably the most loaded question a person could ever ask. 

You probably could’ve kept it together if he had asked any other question, but his “are you ok” truly pulled at your heartstrings.

You felt your chest tightening but you tried your best to help the feeling subside. You had yet to show weakness about how Jimin had affected you to anyone, and you sure as hell weren’t going to start with Jeon Jungkook. Clutching at your chest and taking a few deep breaths in an effort to calm your racing heart, you continued on. 

“Is that genuine concern I’m hearing from you Jeon? Be careful, you’re losing your bad boy persona,” you said as you tried to make a joke to distract him. 

“Y/N, no. I’m serious. are. you. okay.”

You couldn’t handle it anymore. Sobs broke free from your chest and you heaved into the phone, your whimpers and whines striking Jungkook on the other side of the phone. 

“I, I can’t- I just-“

The words barely broke through your sobs. Your chest was tightening and you could barely hear Jungkook through the ringing in your ears. 

“Y/N where are you, I’m coming’” said Jungkook. You could hear the jingling of his car keys and the rustling of him putting on shoes. 

As if mother nature felt your pain, the rain started pouring down on you at the same time.

You barely got out any more words to Jungkook,  but he didn’t hang up on you. He just kept whispering comforting phrases, trying to calm you down from afar as you could hear his car engine roaring in the background (in another world, you definitely would’ve yelled at him for using his phone while driving). You barely even registered that Jungkook was there at all. Every memory of you and Jimin seemed to reopen like a fresh wound, and you couldn’t feel anything except the pain. All you could do was sit on a random curb by the edge of campus, your wails probably reaching the sorority houses nearby. 

You felt broken. The sound of the thunder overhead mixed with your cries as the rain pelted you, soaking your thin sweatshirt. You don’t know how much time passed there. In your head, it felt like time was frozen, while for Jungkook it felt like he was wasting hours zooming through campus (he truly was zooming - a month later he found out that he had accumulated 3 speeding tickets trying to find you, but he would never tell you that).

“Oh, sunshine,” he murmured, voice laced with pity and concern as he pulled over his car on the curb in front of you. 

You and Jungkook hadn’t even said a word to each other since the feud at his apartment, and you had absolutely zero clue how he even managed to figure out where you were through your jumbled phone call. But all you knew is that right now you needed him. You needed someone to give you a bit of comfort, and Jungkook was somehow here to do that for you. Despite everything between you twom you couldn’t hide the feeling of relief that ran through your body as you looked up and saw Jungkook in front of you.

Coming to your side, Jungkook crouched beside you. 

“Jungkook”, you wept as he pulled you into his chest. It was probably one of the first times you had actually addressed him by his first name, which came as a surprise to him. 

Holding you closer, Jungkook couldn’t help but feel protective over you. He couldn’t help but hurt with you as he saw your fragile figure shaking in his arms. 

“You’re gonna be okay now Y/N, okay? I’m here. I’m here for you. I’m not going anywhere.”  

And in that moment, on a dirty curbside off campus, you weren’t Jeon boy and little miss sunshine,  mortal enemies and chemistry lab partners. Instead, you were just Jeon Jungkook and Y/N., and nothing else seemed to matter at the moment.

--♡--

To your surprise (and the surprise of anyone else who knows you), you and Jungkook had not been stepping on each other’s toes as much. What had started out as extreme, extreme dislike had turned into a mild dislike (maybe even a very slight enjoyment of his presence, although you weren't about to admit that anytime soon). And of course, you both refuse to acknowledge the “Jimin incident” that had occurred a week ago and you both refuse to believe that it may have had something to do with you and Jungkook not hating each other. Your emails stopped being signed off with “do your part Jeon, or else” and instead now usually started with “Hey Jeon!” and “Thanks, Y/N”

That brought you here, in your apartment on a Friday night, eating old pizza in an old sweatshirt, no bra, and some comfy shorts that had definitely been through the wash one too many times. Researching for your chemistry project, you chuckled at how much of a londer you would look to an outsider. Sending off the articles you found on Green Chemistry to Jungkook, you closed out the email with some casual pleasantries and then turned to continue rewatching episodes of your favourite kdrama. You definitely weren’t expecting a response from Jungkook until Monday. You were sure that someone like him was at a frat party (was he even in a frat? You had no idea). Either way, Jungkook probably was lounging around in some party house with like 6 girls on his arms, while you were doing quite the opposite. 

Surprisingly, Jungkook was actually doing quite a similar thing to you. Instead of watching kdramas, he was watching Iron Man (for what was probably the 50th time), and was huddled under a makeship blanket fort like a child and scrolling through reddit. Don’t be mistaken though, Jeon Jungkook was definitely a partier, but he also knew when he needed to give his head (and liver) a break.

He saw his phone chime with a gmail notification. He took a brief scroll through the articles you had sent over to him (those were definitely work for another day since there was no way he could digest academic jargon without at least 3 cups of coffee in him), but he was pleasantly surprised with what you had come up with. 

At the same time, the Facebook tab he had open on his Macbook also lit up. 

It’s Y/N L/N’s birthday today! Leave a message on her wall to celebrate!

Jungkook’s jaw dropped. 

It was your birthday and you were sending him chemistry research papers?? Jungkook chuckled because he could already think of 1000 bad jokes to make fun of you, but he also felt some other feeling that he couldn’t quite place.  

Jungkook’s mother had always taught him that it was important to celebrate birthdays, and that is was bad luck that it was  He wasn’t sure if it was just a farce that his mother had come up with to make sure that he still attended those family-wide facetime birthday celebrations once he went to college, but either way, he still believed it to some extent. 

He had no clue why he was doing this, or how he even got here, but somehow Jungkook found himself in sweatpants and a hoodie in front of your apartment door at 10pm on a Friday night, cake in tow in one hand, his other hand out ready to knock on your door. 

On the other side of the door, you were equally astonished. It almost felt like you were seeing a hallucination, as if your email to Jungkook had somehow summoned him to your door. You couldn’t help but rub your eyes in disbelief, just to make sure he was actually there. 

“Jungkook?”

Bashful Jungkook seemed to make an appearance again as he tapped his feet in anxiety. And before he could stop himself, words were already tumbling from his mouth”

“Happy birthday?” he said as a question , posing it as if he didn’t know whether facebook was just playing a prank on him (which he honestly didn’t know). “Can I come in?”

You didn’t even really know how to process this situation, but all you could mutter was a “uh, thank you?” in a similar inquirable tone and gesture for him to step into your apartment. If Jeon Jungkook showed up at your door at 10pm on a Friday night, he probably deserved to be heard out.

“You can make yourself comfortable on the couch. Sorry, I wasn’t expecting company otherwise I would have cleaned up a bit.”  You were sure that Jungkook’s neat freak brain was probably frying itself into overdrive based on the empty now-empty pizza box sitting on your coffee table and stray utensils and crumbs on your kitchen counter. You felt a little embarrassed that he had to see this.

Mirroring Jungkook’s hospitality last time you were at his place, you brought him a glass of water and hoped that this evening would go a LOT better than the last time you and Jungkook were alone together in an apartment. 

Jungkook’s cake was still held in his hands. It was a little cake from the 24/7 cafe on campus; he could only find one that said “happy” with little sunflowers and smiles, so hopefully the “birthday” part of it was implied. 

“I, um, I brought cake - for you. I mean your birthday.”

You sat down across from him. 

“Oh you didn’t have to Jungkook, uh that’s really nice but you didn’t have to do that,” you said as you leaned further away from the cake, as if it was an item that scared you. “I’m not big on birthdays anyways, just usually me chilling in my apartment!” 

However, Jungkook was not planning on taking no as an answer. He tried his best to plead with you, but was still getting nowhere. 

“you… you have to do it for my mom!” he said as he thrust the cake even closer to your face. 

You tilted your head in confusion at his statement. 

“I mean uh-, my mom says that it’s bad luck if you don’t blow out candles on cake on your birthday and that if you don’t do it then you won’t live to your next birthday. And um- i know we’re not friends Y/N but I’d rather see you alive next year”.

 Jungkook tried to look as nonchalant and cool as possible, and when he realized his statement was a little too thoughtful he followed it up with a “i mean you could do whatever you want i don’t care it doesn’t matter to me”. 

You were beginning to like this side of Jungkook, the one that was more thoughtful than he was a selfish, inconsiderate dude.

Taking the cake softly from his hands, you muttered a soft “thank you”. At this point Jungkook didn’t know whether you took it from his hands to throw it on the ground or actually use it for its intended purpose. As you leaned over to grab the lighter by your candles on your coffee table, Jungkook let out a breath of relief. 

Throwing open the cake box, you lit the candle in the cake and stared patiently in front of it. 

“Well Jungkook, I believe if I am going to be blowing out candles there should be singing too, no?” You joked with a silly smile on your face. 

Knowing he had no way out of this (and to be honest, he secretly wanted to anyways), he began to sing. 

You had never heard a more beautiful rendition of happy birthday in your life. Jungkook turned the most mundane song, one that you didn’t have many happy memories with, into a tune that made your heart start to swell with joy. You wished the song was longer, because as he stopped to sing you wanted nothing more than for him to keep going. 

“Make a wish, Y/N” , he whispered. 

You didn’t know what to wish for. There were a lot of things that needed to be fixed in the world, and lots of things that you needed too (like a new toothbrush, or the experience of true love). It seemed fitting that since you were only blowing out these candles because of Jungkook, you should at least dedicate the wish to him. So all you wished for was for you and Jungkook to get along just like you were in this moment. 

You looked up at Jungkook from the cake, and from there all you could say was a sincere “thank you”.

The moment was all too sincere, and you and Jungkook could feel the atmosphere shift to one that was all too intimate and friendly for your relationship. As moving away from a hot flame, you both picked up your phones and mumbled excuses to move away from the situation. 

Jungkook was the first to break the ice again. 

“I don’t know how good this cake is going to be, the expiry date was at least a week and a half ago”

“Well Jeon Jungkook, if you brought an expired cake into my apartment, it feels like a right of passage that you have to try this cake with me.”

You couldn’t stop yourself from picking up a piece of cake on a fork and shoving it into his mouth. Immediately, his face scrounged up in disgust, and you could pretty much see him gag. 

“That cream is… very creamy to stay the least,” he said as he thickly swallowed it down, grimacing the whole time. 

His expression made you chuckle. There was something about the way his naturally fluffy hair seemed to move as he swayed like a piece of seaweed on your couch (a mannerism that you had picked up on quite quickly), that made you feel warm inside.

“Considering me sacrificing myself to this cake as a birthday present to you, Y/N” 

The laugh that bubbled out of your chest almost made that gross cake worth it to Jungkook. And some words of sincerity slipped out before you could hold them in. 

“Best birthday present ever, Jungkook, thank you.

--♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡--

Taglist: @apollukee , @mrcleanheichou , @monvieesdaebak 

If you want to be tagged, please send me an ask! 

 If you liked what you read, please interact/follow! Thank you for reading♡

- Emily

[anagentinwriting]

Lifeline - Part 1

Summary: (First Responders!AU) Moving to Los Angeles and living with your brother, Thor, was never part of your plan nor was being a 9-1-1 dispatcher, but plans change when you are faced with your own emergencies. In your case, it was leaving behind a relationship that wasn’t as perfect as it seemed. Will this be the fresh start you were hoping for or will your past find a way to catch up with you?

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Odinson!Sister Reader

Word Count: ~1800

Warnings: Car accident, angst

Lifeline Masterlist / Main Masterlist

A line ringing over your headset notifies you another emergency call is coming in. You cleared your head, preparing for anything, and clicked the spacebar, answering it, “911, what’s your emergency?” 

“Bro, that was insane,” the male voice said over the phone. “You’re gonna be famous on YouTube.” 

“Excuse me, sir? What seems to be the problem?” you asked, letting out a sigh. 

“My friend is having trouble breathing, and his throat feels like it’s on fire.”

“What’s the address?”

“576 Rose Lane in Westwood.” 

You typed the address into your computer, signaling the nearest available unit to the caller's location. “First responders are on their way. Can you tell me what he was doing before this happened?”

“We were doing the cinnamon challenge.” You rolled your eyes. “I thought it was harmless. Then, he was gagging, and then he coughed, and a puff of cinnamon came out of his nose. It was awesome; he looked like a dragon.” It's been a while since you got a call about an internet challenge gone wrong, but it's been forever since you got a cinnamon challenge one. You didn't even know that challenge was still around.  “Oh fuck!”

“Is everything okay? What happened?” 

“He collapsed. He’s not moving. Should I shake him awake?”

“He probably passed out, but paramedics are only a few minutes away. Is he still breathing?”

“I don’t think so,” he panicked.

“Remember to stay calm, I’ll help you through this the best I can, okay? Okay, now I am going to have to ask you to administer CPR. Do you know what to do?” 

“Sort of. I learned it in health class a few years ago.”

“Perfect. It's 30 chest compressions followed by two breaths going to the rhythm of the song Staying Alive. You can do this.”

“Ok---okay. Yeah. Right, right,” he mumbled. Hearing him set the phone down on the ground, he started counting and doing chest compressions.

The responding unit was about a block away, and once they arrived, you could hear the sirens coming through the phone call.

“Odinson, take over compressions,” a lady’s voice commanded. “Kid, come with me.”

“Is he going to be...” the line went dead as he hung up his phone.  

You leaned back in your chair, rubbing your eyes. This wasn’t anything new; when help arrives, people hang up, and you don’t get to know how it ends, but maybe it was for the best. You sit back up, seeing your reflection in one of the many screens in front of you. At least, you knew most of the firefighters from Station 107 at the scene, including your brother Thor, if you ever wanted to know how it ended.

It's tough, taking call after call, emergency after emergency with little to no recovery time in between. It’s a stressful job that is emotionally and physically taxing. It requires extreme focus, patience, and puts you under a certain kind of pressure. The pressure of wanting to help and do everything you possibly can when this person you never met puts their life in your hands. You never know what the outcome will be, but you try to help them get through what might be the scariest moment in their life. It’s those calls, the ones you were able to save, that keep you coming back to work.

You stepped away from your command center and headed towards the kitchenette, spotting Luis rummaging through the fridge. It wasn’t unusual, but it did always bring a smile to your face. It was hard to believe he was one of the dispatchers who showed you the ropes after relocating to Los Angeles three months ago. 

“Hey, Luis.” He turned around with a doughnut in his mouth, quickly removing it and shooting you a carefree smile.  

“Hey, Chica, get any weird calls yet? You know I love hearing about those weird ones, right.” 

“Nothing out of the ordinary, but a guy called earlier saying his whole body hurt everywhere he poked. I told him to drive to the emergency room and get his finger looked at because it’s probably broken. Oh, and there was another cinnamon challenge victim.”

“Another one, I thought that craze was over.” He shook his head. “But I did hear about this crazy call that came in last night, right. It wasn’t so much crazy, but one of those nuisance calls, you know what I’m saying, the kind where you’re like, ‘why are you calling, this isn’t an emergency type of situation?’ Anyways, Cameron Klein took the call; you know the dude with the great hair, the kind you just want to run your hands through. It has the perfect fluff to curl ratio. I mean, I touched it once, and it was like a cloud. I asked him what products he used in his hair, and he was like…” 

“Luis, how does this relate to the call?”

“Oh, right. Sorry, sorry, sorry, so there was this lady caller, right. She was telling Great Hair how she couldn't leave her car because there was a hostile raccoon outside her door. So then, Great Hair was like why don’t you go out a different door. And this caller says ‘yo I tried, but it’s like this trash panda can read my mind, right. He follows me when I move to the other side, and he’s like crazy, stupid fast like a rocket.’ And here comes the best part, Great Hair was like, ‘Hey girl, you better run fast then,’ and hung up,” he beamed with a slight chuckle.

“Oh my god, people really need to learn what an emergency is,” you chuckled, shaking your head. 

“You know that’s right, but duty calls.” He tilted his head towards the door, carrying two doughnuts and a huge mug full of coffee. 

“Later, Luis.”

Years ago, you never would have imagined you would be working as a dispatcher in Los Angeles. You preferred helping people hands-on, which is why you became an ER nurse. It was the feeling of never knowing what was going to come charging through those doors next that excited you. But being a dispatcher gave you a whole different kind of thrill because you could only use your voice to help.

The rest of your shift flew by until you were on hour eight of your ten-hour shift. A pileup involving a semi jackknifing on the highway forced a huge collision of cars. All the units in the area along with a few on the outskirts came in to assist. It was the same call coming in multiple times, and all you could say was help was already on the way.

“911, what’s your emergency?”

“Send help,” the woman cried, telling you her address.

“Ma’am, I am going to need you to tell me what is going on?”

“A power line…a power line fell into our pool, and my daughter is trapped on her unicorn floaty in the water. I don’t…I don’t know what to do.”

“Stay calm, ma’am. My name is YN, and I’m dispatching a unit to your home now.” You switched lines to the highway accident, getting on a line with Captain Danvers from Station 107, who was sending three individuals to the scene right away. You switched back to the caller. “Okay, I will need you to stay calm. What is your daughter’s name?”

“Morgan, she’s five years old.”

“Please, whatever you do, make sure Morgan stays on the floaty because it is protecting her from the water. There is a good chance the power line is sending more than 5000 volts through the water.”

“Okay, okay, I can do that, “ the mother breathed. “Honey, please stay on the tube.”

“I'm going to try to get in contact with the power company to turn it off.” You looked up the power company in the area, and someone slid next to you. You glance over, seeing Bruce get to work on calling the power company. You nodded at him, staying on the line with the mom. “Ma’am, has help arrived yet?”

“No, but I can hear the sirens.” You peeked at Bruce, but he shook his head, still trying to get a hold of the power company. “They are coming through the back gate now.”

“Ma’am, can you hand the phone to one of the firemen?” You bit your lip, studying the layout of their home on one of your monitors. There were flowers all over their backyard, and you got an idea. 

“Hello, this is Fireman Rogers.”

“Hi, Fireman Rogers. This is 9-1-1 dispatcher, YN, how is it looking there?”

“Well, on the drive-in, we saw that a truck hit the power line pole, which caused the pole to fall into the pool. The driver isn’t in any serious condition, but one of our EMT’s is looking him over,” he informed in a deep voice. “Then, we have a pool vibrating with energy, but I assume you already know that part.”

“Do you have a plan in place? We are still trying to get a hold of the power company.”

“There are a few more floaties by the pool. I could ride one over to Morgan and pull her to safety?”

“Really? Where did you get that from the macho man handbook?”

“I don’t think that book exists, YN,” he added, making you scoff.

“I may have an idea.” You narrowed your eyes, playing out the idea in your head. 

“What did you have in mind?”

“I can view the whole home on one of my monitors, and there are a ton of flowers. So, I can only assume a garden hose must be nearby.”

“Yup, I see it.”

“Okay, perfect. Grab the hose and cut off the metal ends; it's rubber, so it won't conduct electricity. Then, have you and another fireman take the hose and walk along the opposite sides of the pool. Have Morgan grab ahold of it and carefully pull her back to the edge."

“That’s genius, YN. Thanks for your help,” he acknowledged, making you crack a side smile. Few people said thank you in this job, but when they did, you appreciated it. “Here’s your phone back, ma’am.”

Morgan’s mother's breath was shaky and staggered through the phone. She was scared and had every right to be. If you were in that situation, you would be, too. “Oh my god, it’s working. It’s working,” the mother shouted into your ear. “Are you okay, honey? Are you hurt?”

“I am okay, Mommy,” Morgan replied before the phone line went dead.

You smiled at yourself in one of the now blank screens. It was these moments why you loved what you were doing; a happy ending. Some calls never get a happy ending, but when they do, those are the ones you try to remember when a stressful call comes in.

________

AN: I hope you enjoyed the first chapter. There is a long way to go and I promise things will definitely get more interesting. This was just a quick intro to some of the many characters that will make an appearance/cameo. Comments always welcome! Thanks for reading and I hope you’ll stick with me! 

[strawberrysoup]

Pocketful of Posies || Chapter 2

You’d been hiding for years and years now; from your  family, from society, from alphas and packs. Suppressants were dangerous but effective and necessary for an omega who refused to be owned—but no suppressants were strong enough to fool the nose of a super soldier, who together with his pack would stop at nothing to bind you to them forever.

pairings: dark!Avengers x reader word length: 5k chapters: 2/? warnings: A/B/O dynamics, power imbalances, noncon and dubcon sexual situations, loss of autonomy, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat — this is a dark!fic, read at your own risk. Open the read more and CTRL + F, search “content warnings” to skip to detailed trigger warnings at the bottom of the chapter.

hey read this: im desperately hoping this lives up to the standards the first chapter apparently set my dudes, fingers crossed i don’t lose any of you with this one 🤞🤞 also before we get started i just wanna let yall know i am very firmly set in my decisions for the designations and i do not apologize lmao 🤙 

You had been manhandled often enough in your life but fuck this time in particular. Even if you’d managed to pass as a beta for more than a decade, you weren’t strong and couldn’t stand your ground in the face of an alpha three times your size. Steve had sucked his fingers clean and easily hefted you up into his arms, following Bruce back into the cabin and down into the basement—you hadn’t been allowed to clean the basement, it was one of the off-limits areas that were noted in your many instructions. If a door is locked, leave it alone. No cleaning is necessary in the basement, garage, or third floor. Wash the linens with a scent free detergent. Make sure the refrigerator is properly scrubbed out.

He’d left you on a metal countertop with instructions to be good for Bruce. You weren’t sure what that entailed but as soon as the blond left the room, your mind started to race. There was no way you could get away from Steve, Sam you could potentially outrun, but Bruce? Being left alone with the beta was the best thing they could’ve done for you. You could get away from Bruce.

“Have you been to see a doctor recently?” His voice was gentle, intended to be soothing as he came to stand in front of you. "Any check-ups, clinic visits?”

You knew there was blood drying on your cracked lips, cutting a jarring path down your throat. The taste was still in your mouth, you’d gouged your tongue and it was still actively bleeding. With that in mind you made direct eye contact with the beta before letting the mouthful spill over your bottom lip and drip down your front, hoping the gore would help emphasize your opinions on the situation.

“Sweetheart, I know you’re upset—”

“Bruce, why is she bleeding?” It was like getting punched in the face by alpha pheromones the moment the door to the room opened again and a much younger alpha stepped through with a practically panicked expression.

Before you or Bruce could respond you’d been swept up in the alpha’s arms. He was a few years younger than you, early twenties probably and being manhandled by a fetus was particularly bothersome. His scent kept you still for a few seconds before you started squirming, making a beta-like snarl while he corralled your limbs.

“Here Pete, can you sit with her over here? We need a blood draw and full work up, her natural hormones have probably been devastated by the chemicals in the suppressants she was taking,” Bruce gestured for the alpha to carry you to a metal table, likely meant to be used for some sort of experiments if the rest of the room was anything to judge by. "All of her reproductive organs could’ve been affected, I’ll need to do a pelvic exam. We’ll run an STD panel and—”

“No! I don’t consent!” Your voice came out as a growl, the best one you could manage. "This is false imprisonment! Let go of me you fucking knothead! This is illegal!”

The alpha started to purr immediately and you found yourself rendered boneless under the onslaught. It was startling—you’d forgotten how it felt, how calm and safe it made you feel. Alpha purrs were meant to soothe and comfort, the tones perfectly adjusted to the omega ear. They also caused a completely involuntary reaction in omegas, the same as all other alpha sounds. You had no choice but to feel relaxed, the white noise of a purr jumbling your thoughts.

Bruce smiled down at you, hand running over the top of your head where it rested against the alpha’s chest. "It’s okay, you don’t have to be afraid. I won’t let anything happen to you, I just want to make sure you’re healthy.”

“Isn’t that better baby?” The alpha sat back on the table and pulled you to sit between his legs, tucked close to his chest. “And unless you have a guardian alpha, it’s not illegal. We’re doing our civic duty, taking care of an omega in unsafe conditions.”

The worst part was that you couldn’t fight it; you couldn’t find your way out of the calm static the purr filled your brain with. Even when Bruce started taking multiple vials of blood from your left arm, when he opened your mouth to check the damage to your tongue, when they started undressing you, you couldn’t fight. It was a hazy sort of half thought, that you wanted them to stop. It must’ve been apparent in your eyes, that you were trying to work your way out of the purr’s effects.

“Shhhh, sweetheart, you’re alright,” Bruce murmured quietly as his hands pressed the glands in your neck, fingers brushing gently against the scent gland in particular. "No swelling in your thyroid or mating nodes, that’s good. Suppressants can really cause problems in your hormone glands; the blood tests will tell us for sure but it looks like you might’ve dodged the worst of it if nothing’s enflamed. How long have you been on suppressants?”

Answering was the last thing on your mind, your eyes slowly roving over the room instead. It was some sort of lab set up, tons of machines and parts of machines, technology you couldn’t even begin to comprehend. Bruce had been taking things from one particular cabinet that seemed to hold medical supplies, the rest of the place resembling a robotics factory or some kind of high-tech research and development lab. The doors had swished open automatically when Steve brought you in and when the new alpha came through. Who had automatic doors in a vacation home?

“Should I stop?” The alpha questioned the doctor, chest continuing to rumble. “I might be making her too calm I guess.”

“No, just keep doing what you’re doing Peter,” Bruce sighed slightly. "There’s too much coherence in her eyes as it is, I don’t know if the purr affects her as much as it should. I’m worried that if you weren’t enhanced it wouldn’t work at all. Look at me sweetie, can you focus on face?”

His hands cupped your cheeks, tilting your head carefully while watching your eyes. You couldn’t find the energy to focus on his face; you couldn’t imagine the purr affecting you more than it already was and dreaded the idea that it could be worse. What did enhanced mean? Like the superheroes you’d been hearing about? You didn’t keep up on current events, unless they were Omega's Rights related.

“I’m sure it’s a result of the beta chemicals dampening her omega instincts,” Peter shifted you slightly as Bruce exchanged his gloves for a new pair. "Once her body starts producing hormones on its own again she should revert back to common responses to alpha stimuli.”

“You’re probably right, we’ll know for sure once I get the blood results,” Bruce gestured for Peter to sit up more, bringing your limp body with him. “I’m going to do a breast exam and a pelvic exam and we’re done. There are some other tests I want to run but I don’t have the equipment on hand so they’ll have to wait until Tony manages to get here. Peter, can you help move her arms?”

You felt like you almost managed to swim through the purr, rage fueling you as hands manipulated your breasts. The exam itself was clinical, professional even—or it would’ve been if he hadn’t been cooing at you the whole time, how good you were being, how sweet you were, how pretty your breasts were. Peter had hummed in agreement along with the doctor, his nose trailing up and down your neck. Your hands clenched into fists and you could feel Peter’s grip on your wrists shift with the movement.

“Calm down, baby,” the alpha’s voice cooed gently against the side of your head, lips pressing into your hair as Bruce shifted away and went for the medical cabinet again. "This is important. Suppressants could’ve caused tons of problems, cancerous growths in sexual organs or secondary sex characteristics is very common.”

Death would be a reprieve. The same thought that crossed your mind any time you considered the potential effects of suppressants. A reprieve from the hiding, the exhaustion, living out of your car or a tent, eating garbage because it was all you could afford—from the constant threat of having your autonomy ripped from your hands.

You relaxed your fists until you felt his grip loosen again, even if only slightly. Your only chance would be to rely on surprise and your speed, there was no other way you’d be able to get away. Forcing your body to relax was a trial though, adrenaline was starting to course through you the more you became used to the effects of the purr. Your scent was still massively dampened by the suppressants, Peter likely wouldn’t be able to smell the shift from fear to anticipation. You bit down on the sluggishly bleeding wound on your tongue, reigniting both the pain and blood flow.

“Alright, last part, we’re almost done and then we’ll get you comfortable, okay?” Bruce was wearing new gloves again, a bottle in hand as he walked back over. "Have you had a pelvic exam before?”

You waited until he was close enough and performed what seemed to be your go to act of defiance: spitting blood directly in his face. He reared back with a short curse, Peter immediately releasing your wrists—his goal was likely to readjust you in his lap, to gain a better hold, but you were fast, faster than an alpha (always faster than alphas, it was all you had). You’d slipped from his lap and darted for the automatic doors before either of them could respond. Running through the woods naked was the lesser evil.

Steel bands. You should’ve noticed, the doors opened too soon for them to be reacting to your presence, you were so focused on getting through. But the moment you did, it felt like steel bands wrapped around your torso, pinning your arms.

The alpha’s scent was like Steve’s—the moment your brain registered it the world went hazy. You were floating, body going limp for a precious few seconds that the alpha used to sweep you into his arms and stalk further into the room. Your senses came back just in time for you to be deposited back into Peter’s lap on the table, a massive blond alpha coming into view for the first time. Your gaze was immediately stuck on his, the heterochromatic eyes nearly hypnotizing. Fighting the daze he put you in was overwhelming, especially when a wide smile split his lips and his cheeks dimpled. One massive hand reached out, almost engulfing the entire lower half of your face.

“Hello little love.” Were alphas always as insanely massive as this one and Steve, or had you just stumbled across literally your worst nightmare? “They told me you’re a flighty thing, I suppose I arrived just in time, hm? Are you going to spit blood in my face as well? It seems to be your calling card.”

The look on your face must’ve betrayed the fact that you were really, really considering it. You had a mouthful of blood and nowhere to put it but his face, honestly. Instead you used the fact that Peter was mostly propping you up to lean over the edge of the table and proceeded to open your mouth, spilling blood down onto the alpha’s shoes nice white shoes.

“I wouldn’t challenge her,” Bruce’s voice drew your attention to where he was using a towel to wipe blood off his glasses, a wry smile and affection clear on his face. "She’s putting a lot of effort into being belligerent.”

The blond alpha rumbled with a grin, thumb brushing across your cheekbone. "It’s been a stressful day for her, there’s nothing she can do that will cause any persisting damage anyway. Let her have her little rebellions.”

You wanted to be furious—what kind of asshole looked a person dead in the eyes and called their attempts to escape false imprisonment little rebellions?—but Peter seemed to have realized where your train of thought had gone because he started purring immediately. Your spine went boneless, laying you flat against his chest.

“Can you lean up against the wall with her?” Bruce directed the younger alpha to shift until both of your legs were dangling over the edge, Peter’s back to the wall the table sat against. “You’re going to need to hold her in place, even while you purr. Alright sweetie, let’s get this out of the way. Thor, will you hold her leg please?”

The sound you made was an accident. Desperation and humiliation were crawling up your spine with astounding speed, even with Peter’s purr going like a motorboat and the sound  was making it too hard to think through your instincts. Omega cries were a deliberate counterpart to the noises alphas made; whines and cries and hisses, perfectly pitched to make an alpha’s hindbrain stand at attention. The sound you made was a sharp, chirping whine—distress, distress, distress, help me, help me help m—

“Oh little love,” Thor’s voice had dropped several registers and he gently shuffled Bruce to the side so he could stand in front of you, slipping as close to the table as possible and tugging your legs to rest on either side of his hips and gently running his hands over your skin. “Let’s get you taken care of, you need rest.”

The pheromones he was putting out were meant to calm but you immediately opened your mouth, using the overwhelming scent of your own blood to drown them out. The alpha sighed and stepped aside again, taking your leg with him and spreading your thigh to rest over Peter’s leg with your foot planted on the table. A whine rose in your throat again but you locked it down, instead biting down on your tongue yet again. It was as grounding as it was painful, the tang of it souring your stomach.

It was your last coherent thought, that you were starting to feel nauseous from all of the blood you'd swallowed. Thor began to purr just after that and the sound was entirely devastating, bone deep and you went completely limp, your head falling to the side against Peter’s chest and your shoulders dropping. This is what acid felt like, you were pretty sure.

Your eyes lazily followed Bruce’s path as the doctor took his place between your legs again, lifting the other into a matching position. Some part of you was fully aware of how gut wrenching this was; completely naked and spread wide in front of two alphas and a beta, a situation you’d rather kill yourself than be in, but your brain couldn’t follow any emotional tethers while Thor purred. The doctor was speaking, you could feel his hands manipulating your vulva, but you couldn’t understand anything coming out of his mouth.

Peter’s hand came to your chin and tilted your head back until you could see him, smiling down at you. His mouth moved, your eyes almost able to track the movement of his lips enough to read them but your brain gave up halfway through. The two alphas were chuckling over something but you were distracted by the discomfort of something being inserted into your vagina. A sharp yip escaped your lips, your body still completely boneless as your eyes rolled down.

“It’s a speculum, sweetie, I’m sorry it’s uncomfortable,” it sounded like Bruce was talking underwater and you could almost feel his breath on your thigh, your mind irritatingly unable to think beyond the question 'who just keeps a fucking speculum lying around?' "Just a few more seconds while I get a pap smear.”

More discomfort came before the instrument was removed, another yip leading Peter to purr along side Thor. The rest of the exam was a blur, slippery fingers and pressure and foreign sensations. You could barely think, let alone realize that Bruce was finishing up the manual exam, when your eyes noticed movement behind them. You couldn’t really make out anything, nothing would focus, but you assumed it was Steve and Sam.

There were more voices but you couldn’t hear anything for an indeterminate amount of time. It wasn’t until Thor stopped purring again that you were able to start regaining your senses, as much as the continuous rumbling in Peter’s chest would allow. The difference between the sounds the two alphas produced was marked by your sudden ability to focus your eyes, to concentrate on voices, in the way your muscular control was slowly returning.

You were almost glad the young alpha was still purring—it meant that the spike of terror that tried to shoot through you was somewhat dulled, enough that it wouldn’t show in your scent. Sam and Steve had indeed come in, accompanied by a young woman with long auburn hair and porcelain skin, a beta from the scent. As soon as she made eye contact with you she smiled vibrantly, slipping forward and sneaking between your still spread thighs.

“You’re so beautiful,” she murmured, long fingers stroking absently against your neck as she leaned in, forcing your back tighter against Peter’s chest. "Will you let me see your trauma my love?”

Some sort of red miasma filled your vision, a fog you quickly realized was coming from her hands—and realization slammed into you like a freight train. You seen that before, in passing. And then the recognition made you nauseous—Thor. You didn’t keep up with current events, but certain names you couldn’t miss. Thor, Tony Stark, Captain America. Your eyes flashed to the blond man standing towards the back of the room; Captain America, Steve Rogers.

Desperation shot through your body like you’d been tazed. Your foot shot out of Thor’s hold, the alpha hadn’t been putting any actual effort into holding you still since you’d been so dazed, and connected with the woman’s chest to send her reeling. Before anyone else could respond, your throat rasped for several seconds before a warbling shriek escaped. The four alphas in the vicinity reacted like they’d been shot; Thor and Steve both stumbled back, and Sam’s knees practically gave out, sending him careening into the wall. Behind you, Peter, far too close to the source, immediately went limp.

There were several distress calls an omega could make. Most of the time, they were whines or chirps, noises meant to draw attention from packmates. They were small, careful sounds—nothing loud enough to attract attention from a foreign alpha or delta. Omegas were quarry to be stolen, after all, which was precisely why they had one, singular method of defending themselves against their biggest biological threat and that was a shriek.

When in close proximity, the sound was loud enough and tuned just so to daze an alpha’s hindbrain. The evolutionary explanation was that a loud shriek meant that an omega being confronted by an aggressive alpha could both temporarily stun their attacker and summon assistance—alphas or deltas, far enough away that the negative effects were nullified but within proximity to hear that an omega was in danger. The assumption being, of course, that an omega who shrieked was in danger from a stranger, not a packmate.

It only worked for a very short time though, any alpha or delta in the area would immediately converge on the omega’s location and deal with the problem—it was the reason you hadn’t used it outside. There was no reason for the effects to last when it summoned immediate assistance, though, and that meant you needed to move. You slid off the table, bare feet slapping tile as you just barely managed to dodge Bruce’s grasp. The woman, the witch from the news, was on the floor clutching her sternum.

The stairs were a blur, so was the foyer and the driveway. You hesitated at your car for all of ten seconds before running for the forest; your keys were in the pocket of your jeans, back down in the basement. Abandoning all of your possessions hurt somewhere deep in your heart but there wasn’t any time for sentiment. You had to get away, quickly.

Luckily the woods had become your home a long time ago. You moved between the trees silently, feet so heavily calloused from constantly going barefoot that you didn’t even notice the twigs and sharp stones digging into your flesh. Your brain shot into overtime. You needed to steal clothes, then cash. You’d lived with nothing for years, you could do it again for however long you needed to. The only thing you really needed was suppressants; everything else was a luxury.

You assumed they were behind you, you’d been running for a good three minutes. The straight path meant they could follow you easier but the goal had to be the maximum distance possible rather than the most strategic pattern. Your only advantage was being fast and you had no choice but to rely on it, especially since your hindbrain was wailing with every step you took. The suppressants were the only reason you could do it at all, the trade off for quieting those damn instincts being a tolerable mildness of character that did not appreciate the constant, incessant shriek of your baser self while you were trying to focus. 

All you had to do was keep quiet until you could find one of the creeks running through the forest—so close to Lake Superior there was water everywhere. You would run through the creek in several different places, to mask your scent and make it difficult to follow. It wouldn’t be hard to find a hunting blind or shack, a hole in the ground was better than going back there. The moment your eyes caught on running water you dove into it, covering yourself with mud before jumping back up to continue running.  

Captain America was super fast and you’d bet the rest of them were similar if not the same and you needed more distance. Somewhere in the back of your mind, prey behavior was setting in. Natural selection had driven your existence, you were the result of thousands of years of evolution, and the life you’d lived meant you were far more adapted to being hunted than most omegas. You were vulnerable but not helpless and as you coated yourself in more mud from a different part of the creek, chemosensory instincts started rattling through you.  

They were coming. Your scent was inhibited by the suppressant’s and that made it harder for them to follow you but they were doing their best. Combined with the water and the mud, your scent was very difficult to pin down, even for a super soldier. You contemplated climbing a tree to hide, but the insane memory of how keen the noses of the pack following you were spurred you on. You kept running, covering yourself in mud two more times, before finding a tree with a massive tangle of roots at the bottom. Fighting whatever creature had made a home down there was worth it—it went deep, was heavily covered by underbrush and detritus from the trees, but most importantly it was surrounded by wild bergamot in full bloom.  

It smelled lovely, spicy and floral with a citrusy overtone. You crawled through the dirt, wiggling between the roots and carefully avoiding crushing any plants or branches that could give you away. Whatever lived in there was out, likely foraging, and you took the creature’s absence to your advantage and pressed as far back into the hole as possible.  

You weren’t tired, despite the long, exhausting day and the fucking trauma. Another small grace that adaption had provided was that once an omega began producing adrenaline, sleep became unnecessary—it was actually considered a very unenviable omega trait in the general population, but you’d found it’s uses worth the unpleasant side effects. Your heart would continue to race for the next several hours, your pupils wouldn’t return to normal for potentially days and your blood sugar had sky rocketed and that was going to be a nightmare for how ever long it lasted. 

The waiting was going to hurt—there was nothing to pass the time and you had to actively focus on not being terrified or your omega scent could seep through, oh, what was it now? Five coats of mud from the creek, a significant amount of bergamot, and fifteen years of whatever the fuck suppressants did to your scent over time.

It wasn’t ten minutes later that you heard them. Stealth wasn’t their objective, that was clear from the amount of noise they made. You could hear Steve and Peter calling your name, although you didn’t know how they knew it. Thor was speaking, his tone low but certainly not quiet. They weren’t even moving that fast, walking almost leisurely.

“She’ll need to bathe and eat. Clint and Natasha are finishing up in New York. Steve, have you heard from Tony or Bucky? Carol?”  

“Tony’s wrapping up, should be flying over pretty soon. Carol and Bucky were on their way up but I gave them a list of things to grab while they’re going through the bigger cities. Shouldn’t be too much longer for them either though.” 

Steve and Thor were different than Sam or Peter. You couldn’t pin down exactly what had set your teeth on edge, but the scent the two blond alphas gave off was different. Their pheromones were worse, more infectious. Eye contact with Steve had made your hindbrain beg to go to him, regardless of the rationality you could usually manage thanks to the suppressants. You could remember the feel of Thor’s hand on like it was seared into your skin instead, you wanted him to never not be touching you ever again—

If you could’ve slapped yourself without making noise you would’ve. The stupid omega in your brain, that dumb, easy cunt was going to get you killed. You sealed your lips, clenched your teeth and tucked your hands under your bent knees. Night was starting to fall to your benefit, the shadows were getting darker. You were so far back they would have to crouch down and crawl half way in to see you.

If you could keep your wits until they passed you could double back, trying to find your keys would be a wash but you could grab clothes from the back of your ancient Tahoe. You weren’t sure how long you’d been in the basement, but you didn’t think it was long enough for them to have gone through your things.

“Could she have gotten this far?” You held your breath as Sam stopped far too close to your hiding place for comfort.

“Omegas are fast and she seemed faster than most,” Bruce answered. “We’ll know for sure once her blood work comes back, but from her physiology I’d say she presents as a classical omega. She’s probably the first in her family in a long, long time. To have a scream that loud in this day and age? The omega gene must’ve been skipped so long that there was no chance for it to adapt to modern omega qualities.”

“There’ve been some studies suggesting that the classical omega attributes are making a come back in the general population,” Peter’s voice came from much farther away. "They haven’t been peer reviewed enough yet and they haven’t been replicated en masse because they don’t have enough subjects, alphas aren’t exactly thrilled to have their omegas studied, but—”

“The lack of data aside, I assume there’s a correlation between the alphas willing to allow their omegas to participate and the behavior of the omega in question. Do you think—”

“Focus, Bruce,” Steve’s voice was light with affection. "The point is that yes, she could’ve gotten this far or farther. The way she keeps running into the creek is messing up the footprints and—”

Their voices faded as they continued the same linear path you’d been running earlier. The fact that they didn’t even sound a little concerned that you could get away was both insulting and unnerving. You didn’t need alphas having that kind of confidence regarding your behavior—and why weren’t they moving any faster? The paranoia was immediate and overwhelming, what did they know about that you didn’t? Something they assumed would hinder you farther along in the woods? Something they were planning for when they found you? When.

You forced yourself to count slowly to six hundred, waiting what you hoped was a full ten minutes before silently crawling out of your hide. Their scents were everywhere, you could smell where Sam had been standing almost directly over the opening in the roots. They were still too close for comfort and you turned, running back through the forest. Your feet were starting to feel sore, usually you’d at least watch where you stepped but there just wasn’t time—you had to get away before they could enact their plans.

The clearing the cabin sat in was coming up and you forced yourself to slow as you approached the tree line, keeping a careful eye out for the beta woman. You couldn’t remember what her call sign was, something to do with witches, and you definitely didn’t want her using that red magic stuff on your head.

The extra seconds of waiting paid off, watching her pace the porch for a few moments before her phone rang. She answered, walking inside and closing the doors behind her. You didn’t wait an extra second, darting across the clearing to where you car was sitting in the driveway with the trunk popped. They must’ve started going through your things but stopped part of the way through.

You could see one of your go bags though, squished between your rolled up sleeping bag and tent. The straps of the bag squeaked with how hard you yanked it out, hesitating slightly—instinct told you to leave the sleeping bag, but you’d grown used to the luxury of it and leaving the stupid thing behind made you decidedly sad. You tossed the straps of the go bag over your shoulder and turned away, knowing it would slow you down and—

There was an Iron Man suit standing directly behind you, gauntlets rested on the hips and the head cocked to the side. You froze, as if staying still could prevent it from noticing you. Fuck, you hoped there wasn’t a man in there. A stupid thought, you considered as you stared silently, trying to decide if there was any way out. Hope was a joke at this point but you didn’t have anything else.

“Hi princess,” it was a distinctly human voice, if filtered. "Hope I didn’t miss too much of the fun.”

  content warning: nonconsensual medical procedures, general noncon touching/assault.

edited 7/9/21 - still on hiatus

[weirdfetishes123]

'Why is my Dick Blue' and other Pressing Questions - deviantart

Did your dom leave you with a blue stain that just won’t go away? Are you now waddling around even after hours in the juicing room? Are you now a giant blue ball that hasn’t seen the sun in months and wondering what a cute technician is doing putting this pamphlet in your face? If you answered yes to the first two questions there’s no need to worry, and if you answered yes to the last question, congratulations! You can still read! In this short guide you will find all the answers to your questions on becoming a Permaberry!

There are five levels of Permaberry. They are, in order of severity: Stained, Bloated, City, Chameleon, and Barrel. The first two are the most common and tend to happen on accident. These can occur when a caretaker waits too long to juice his berry, or they can be a planned result in order to “mark” a sub. Depending on the severity they may be able to leave the Studio, or they may be required to stay. City Permaberries are the rarest of the five. These men swell up randomly once a month or even just once a year. This used to require them to stay at the Studio, but now they can lead a normal life with some new lifestyle changes. Chameleon and Barrel Permaberries are only found at Studio 71 or at its other properties. While both are available to everyone, they carry a heavy cost in one way or another. Whichever way you choose to go, know that each Permaberry is only as permanent as you choose to be.

1) Stained.

What it is: This is the most common Permaberry. It is caused when a caretaker waits too long to juice their berry. The time frame, however, varies from person to person. Some have been juiced only after a couple of hours after swelling and have blue stains on their body, while others can wait up to a week to be juiced and come out completely clear.

What to look for: I hoped this would be self explanatory, but in case you didn’t catch on you’re looking for one (1) blue stain on you or your fuck boy’s body. The most common area to look is the groin, ass, and belly. Other places this may appear are the feet, chest, nose, or hands, although these are less common.

How it’s cured:

Well this may be hard for the affected party, but in order to get rid of the stain the affected has to remain celibate for up week at a time. This will allow the residual juices to be concentrated in the semen and make the stain disappear within a week or two. A chastity can be used here to great effect, and in fact this is usually why doms choose to make their subs Stained in the first place. If you didn’t go this route because you’re just an eighteen year old college freshman freaking out because this is the closest thing you have to ever gotten to an STI don’t worry. Even if you orgasm three times a day the stain always goes away on its own, but that would take months rather than weeks. There are no long term effects so calm down you gushy bottom.

2) Bloated

What it is: This is what happens when you leave your berry swollen for over a week. The juice becomes slightly congealed and pools in one part of the body. They may be completely blue, or just the swollen body part may be colored. In either case it’s gonna take a while to get rid of it. This is the second most common Permaberry and they almost always have to stay at the studio

What to look for: You’re looking for stained skin and large parts of the body that slosh when you touch them, other then the ones you’ve paid to see. It normally pools in the ass and belly, but it can also cause the genitals, face, and feet to swell as well. Here's the thing, if you or your date are still blue and sloshing after a 2 hour juicing session that was supposed to be 30 minutes that's a good sign that they or you are now Bloated.

How it’s cured: Buckle-up bucker-roo because you’re in for the long haul. It could take up to a month to get the swelling down. See the thing about a Bloated Berry’s juice is that is more like Jello than fruit juice. It's very stubborn, but it can be diluted with a lot water. And I mean a lot of water. Think ten gallons a day. Basically if you always feel you’re about to piss yourself that means it's working. Now that it is somewhat fluid it can be coaxed out with some basic yoga poses. Studio 71 does offer some classes that are filled with bloated berries so you’ll never be short of company. Don’t worry, the classrooms have plenty of drains on the floor. Everyone after a month or so makes a full recovery, but some lucky bastards get to keep a berry’s legendary flexibility.

3) City

What it is: Are you busy man on the go? Need a vacation? Do you feel so stressed you can just burst? Do you have a strange masochistic desire to make your God Awful existence an oddly sexual nightmare? Then you might, might, become a City Berry. This is the rarest of all the Permaberries and it only affects a baker's dozen around the globe. They have earned their name due to the fact that all of them came from major metropolitan areas before the Studio and continue to reside there. They lead average lives and being a Permaberry doesn’t affect their professional or private life at all. However, about once a month, their stomach starts to gurgle, turn blue and they start to grow. Once that happens they have about an hour to rush home to their Juicing Kit or risk being stuck as a blue ball in public.

What to look for: City Berries look just like anyone else really. There is no way to really separate them from the crowd. However in private, if you’re comfortable with violating their privacy you can look for their juicer, but this isn’t recommend as there is only 14 or so people in the whole world have them. Anyway if they were a City Berry they probably wouldn’t date someone who’s rummaging through their closest like a cracked out raccoon. Come to think of it that is just the response you should expect for everyone who has a working brain stem. Anyway at full size they aren’t any different from the berries at Studio 71. Their juice is slightly more potent however, and while a regular Studio berry might make you shade or so paler, a City Berries juice will definitely turn you blue. In the off chance you find yourself in this situation juice yourself as soon as you can to avoid becoming Stained.

How it’s cured: As of now there is no cure. Some City Berries have had this condition for years, but it hasn’t affected their life terribly. If you do find yourself in this situation you have no need to be nervous or scared.

4) Chameleon

What it is: This is it. The most Exclusive Berry drink at Studio 71. One shot can make you a berry indefinitely, but that's not all. One shot of Studio Elite gives you full control of you transformation. Do you want to be buff? Round? Blueberry? Cherry? A mix of all four? Go for it Champ! A Chameleon can change what shape and color they are at will. It is the ultimate experience of berry inflation, and most are willing to work at the studio for a year just to pay the $10,000 price tag for one shot. As it is nearly all of the staff at Studio 71 are Chameleon’s and are paying back their debt. However there are some lucky sons of bitches who win a monthly drawing to get it for free.

What to look for: Honestly anything. They could be short, tall, skinny, fat, and any color of the rainbow. Just assume that everyone who works at the Studio is one and you’re good to go. Observant guests can even spy one changing from one fruit to another if the pay attention.

How it’s cured: Asking a Chameleon if they want to be cured is like asking a lottery winner if they want to work at McDonald’s. Most don’t want it to end, but if it must there is a drinkable cure which remove the effects. What follows is a standard juicing practice and they are back to normal. As of now there has only been a couple who willingly ended to move on with their life, but more have had the privilege removed for punitive reasons.

5) Barrel

What it is: This is it. The Ride or Die Berry. The drink that turns you into a Barrel is only $20, but the price is in reality much steeper. Like the Chameleon Berry this one comes with its own separate contract. If buy this drink you have to remain in the studio for a minimum of six months. And no that can’t be negotiated down. If you drink the Barrel potion it will change your life forever, and maybe not for the best.

What to look for: You’re gonna look for a giant blue ball that has no idea where it is. That’s because barrels aren’t your run of the mill berry. Oh no, they are the closest to being permanent. See the human body isn’t exactly designed to carry two tons of fluid inside it, so the potion makes some changes. It actually weakens the skeleton in order to get the resources needed to form a cartilage sphere under the berries skin. This new flexible shell now carries the weight. This process removes most human characteristics from the berry’s skin. Their nipples, genitals, and body hair are all removed, in some cases even their hands and feet are absorbed into the body. What’s left is smooth, shiny surface that almost looks like latex. Once the juice passes the blood brain barrier it starts to effect the berry’s mind. First they lose all track of time. If you leave them alone in a room and come back an hour later they will think you only just left. Then comes amnesia. The won’t remember anything from their life before being a berry. Lastly the long term memory process shuts down. Now they believe their entire existence is what is going on around them, nothing more.

Due to the extremity of the treatment paying customers are limited to six months of this treatment. Rule breakers are another story. This is the fate of anyone who breaks Studio 71’s security or the privacy of the guests. They will be a barrel for at least a year, possible many more.

WARNING! All berries CAN and WILL become Barrels if they aren’t juiced in two weeks time! Remember to juice your Berry Boys before the two week mark or you will be forced to join them for their extended visit!

How it’s cured: One word: Juicing. Lots and lots of juicing. There is special machines made for it at Studio 71 that specialize in juicing as Barrels need a long slow juicing process. This ensures a gentle and painless process in which the cartilage sphere its dissolved by the action and the skeleton can reform. The entire process can take weeks, regardless of how long they were a Barrel. Out of all of the Permaberries only half return completely to normal. The rest have permanently stained skin and might even always carry juice in there bodies. The lest common side effects affect the brain. While 90% of all return to their normal selves, 5% gain significant intelligence, while the other 5% never fully recover from the ordeal. If you choose to go down this path think carefully. You may not come out the other end the same.

Well that's it berry boy. Feel better? No? Honestly that sounds like a “you” problem. Look there isn’t really a need to panic about a blue spot or a swollen gut, so sit down, shut up, and I hope you enjoy your stay at Studio 71. Stay Juicy!

[phantom-curve]

44 for willex and au of your choice! If you’re still taking prompts

Oop this prompt invaded my brain and ran off into the sunset. I definitely didn’t mean for it to get as long as it did, but here we are! From the gimme a chance AU, I give you 3 times Willie sat on Alex’s lap +1 time Alex sat on Willie’s (these span the time between all the other one-shots I wrote for Willex in this universe!)

#44: sitting on the other’s lap (Rated a heavy T for some adult themes and language. Also available on ao3!)

1.

Willie hardly ever thought about it anymore. When they were out in public, when they were at the studio with Luke and Reggie for band practice, when they were just hanging around one of their apartments, he never really thought about them in terms of dating. He kind of more thought about them in terms of forever. Not that he was rushing anything, but more that there was a kind of aura around Alex, a kind of energy, that had a way of sinking into Willie’s very bones and saying hey, I’m gonna stick around for the rest of your life that made him think in terms of absolutes. Alex was an absolute. Willie was totally a-okay with that.

The thing that bothered him though, was the fact that Alex didn’t seem to get it.

He still waited for Willie to offer his hand to hold. He didn’t kiss him unless Willie made it painfully obvious that he was okay with that. He hadn’t even managed to get him to spend the night yet because Alex always came up with a reason to go home before Willie could even try to extend the invitation.

And it wasn’t that Alex wasn’t into him. He was. He so totally was. Willie knew that. But it was like he was afraid to own up to it. Which Willie could kind of understand. They had talked about their families and while Willie was lucky to be fully accepted for who he was at home, Alex’s parents were a different story.

They weren’t outright cruel, they had still provided the necessities in the form of food, water, and shelter while Alex had been living at home, but they didn’t love any more. They didn’t talk, they didn’t help, they just ghosted along as if they had never been a part of Alex’s life in the first place. It seemed worse than outright hatred, but Alex claimed it was better than nothing. After all, it had meant that they didn’t ask where he had been or where he was going or when he would be home, which had kinda been a dream as a high schooler. Other kids had wished they had that kind of freedom, Alex told him. Not worth complaining about. It had basically been like having roommates, which was great practice for when he moved out and actually had roommates, Alex said, and Willie pretended all of that was normal because he could tell Alex wanted it to be. They didn’t talk about how now that Alex was living on his own his parents had completely dropped all communication with him. Willie just made a note of it and decided he would make up for all that affection Alex had been missing out on.

So, Willie carried on the way he was used to when it came to being interested in someone and in a relationship with them. He complimented Alex, gave him cute little nicknames, and generally tried to see how often he could manage to make the other boy blush. One of the most successful tactics he had found was sitting in Alex’s lap, especially when he least expected it.

Like right now, in the middle of a Sunset Curve practice.

Luke had been getting frustrated with part of the melody of a new song or something, and Reggie had finally told him to just jam it out until he found the notes he was looking for, and Alex had paused his drumming, tucking his sticks into one hand, and reaching down with the other to grab the large water bottle he kept at his feet when he played. He watched the way the light caught on Alex’s hair as he flicked it off his face, turning the blonde strands into spun gold. Found himself mesmerized by the lines of Alex’s jaw and neck as he tipped his head back to rehydrate. His feet moved on their own, pulling him over to his boyfriend’s side like Alex was a magnet and Willie was made of metal.

Alex quirked a brow at him as he lowered the water bottle, but Willie didn’t say anything. Just grinned and plopped himself down right on Alex’s lap, even though he knew the stool was only meant to hold one person’s weight and Alex had grumbled more than once over Luke and Reggie messing with it. Alex didn’t grumble at him though. Especially not when he looped his arms around the other boy’s neck and leaned forward to place a kiss against his temple. Alex’s cheeks blushed Willie’s favorite shade of pink, the one that almost matched the hoodie he always wore.

“You looked a little lonely over here. Thought I’d come say hi.”

“Hi.”

Alex’s lips parted as he breathed out the word, his eyes softening the way they did every time Willie looked into them for a beat too long. Willie felt his smile widen. He inhaled deeply, filling his lungs with the scent of sweaty band boys and fresh linen and Alex’s honey vanilla shampoo. Alex started to slip his own arms around Willie’s waist, his head tilted up as his gaze fell to his lips. And then an extra loud guitar chord rang out through the amps and Alex jumped, nearly dumping Willie on the ground.

“Alright, lovebirds, enough! I figured out what was wrong with the chord progression. I just gotta switch it from a G chord to a...”

Willie tuned out, never fully able to follow along when Luke got going on a musical tangent. Instead, he pressed one quick kiss to Alex’s lips and stood, slipping out from behind the kit to return to his original position on the couch set up across from where the boys stood to play. Alex watched him with a soft smile and starry eyes before giving his head a quick shake and refocusing on Luke, cheeks still tinged that pale pink that made Willie’s heart soar. Willie tucked the memory away with all his other favorite Alex moments and watched the band get back to it, head bobbing along as he watched his boyfriend shine. And if he made sure to keep his gaze firmly focused on Alex, winking every now and then just so he could see that blush creep back in, well no one else had to know about that but him.

2.

Surprisingly, the hardest part of dating a guy like Alex, a guy who was beautiful and effortlessly sexy and regularly doing something that gave literally anybody a free pass to ogle him for as long as his band was up on stage, was the fact that his boyfriend seemed to have no fucking clue just how attractive he was. And he was also shockingly bad at knowing when someone was hitting on him. Willie was pretty sure if he hadn’t asked Alex on a date after running him over, the guy would have never made a move. And that was afterWillie spent 20 minutes openly flirting with him and dropping ten-ton hints as he helped him clean up and bandage his wounds. It was simultaneously adorable and exhausting, because it meant that sometimes Willie had to watch people chat up his boyfriend while Alex awkwardly bumbled his way through what he assumed was a friendly conversation.

Willie, as a rule, did not get jealous. Jealousy was for people who had trust issues, and Willie trusted Alex more than he had ever trusted a single other person before. So, he wasn’t jealous, per se, as he made his way through the crowd, eyes locked on the back of the guy casually leaning over where Alex was sitting alone in a booth against the wall. He was actually a bit concerned because Alex looked uncomfortable, and he hadn’t thought to tell him that he was gonna make it to the show tonight, which had seemed like a romantic idea at the time but obviously wasn’t because Alex was drumming one of his hands against his thighs and tapping his fingers against the back of his phone on the table in front of him with the other.

He was probably waiting for Willie to call him, because that was something Willie had been doing now that he had gone pro and started traveling for competitions on the weekend instead of showing up at Ebbie’s to cheer on the band from the front row. He had been a little late to snag a front row spot this weekend, barely making it for the last couple of songs in the set. But he had made it, because the competition had ended up getting rained out and Willie had braved the hours of Saturday evening traffic back to LA so that he could see his boyfriend in person instead of through a phone screen.

His boyfriend who was now being hit on by a complete stranger in a crowded bar where Luke and Reggie were nowhere to be found. Willie frowned slightly as he watched Alex draw back into the booth a bit more, both hands picking up speed as they continued to mindlessly tap out a rhythm. No, Willie wasn’t jealous. He was mad that this dude wasn’t picking up on Alex’s cues and backing off. So, now that he was only a few steps away, he skipped forward and made his presence known.

“Hey Hotdog, you looked pretty good up there tonight.”

Alex’s face lit up like the 4th of July, his green gaze skipping past the guy invading his space and latching onto Willie like he was seeing the sun for the first time. Willie felt his lips curve into a soft smile. The unknown guy straightened a bit, eyes skipping back and forth between Alex and Willie, brow furrowed. Willie didn’t have the capacity to help the dude connect the dots, because all he could focus on was Alex and how fast his expression had changed upon hearing Willie’s voice.

“Willie.”

Alex’s tone was quiet and awed, like he had conjured Willie up out of thin air. His hands stilled, and Willie couldn’t resist anymore. He slipped past the stranger who was finally starting to back up and step away, hands raised slightly as if to say sorry, bro, didn’t know you had a boyfriend, and wormed his way into the booth, settling himself on Alex’s lap. Alex leaned forward, his head falling to rest in the crook of Willie’s neck, breath stuttering out and sending a wave of goosebumps across his skin.

“I didn’t think you were coming tonight.”

“Comp got cancelled. And I missed you.”

Willie dropped a kiss on the top of Alex’s blonde head, breathing in the distinct honey-vanilla-laundry scent that always got a bit more intense after a show. Alex’s cheeks warmed, Willie delighting in the fact that he could actually feel the blush against his own skin, and his lips moved against the hollow of Willie’s throat.

“I always miss you.”

The words were tempered with gentle kisses and Willie thought he might melt into the floor right there on the spot. He didn’t censor his next words, let the longing bleed through so Alex understood just how badly he wanted to be with him.

“Come home with me tonight then. I think six months of dating is long enough to move into sleepover territory.”

Alex’s arms squeezed around his waist for a brief second, Willie biting his tongue as he listened to Alex’s breath hitch and then pick up a bit faster than before. He pulled his head out of Willie’s neck, mouth open to answer, when the other two-thirds of Sunset Curve suddenly arrived at the table in their typical whirlwind fashion. They called out happy greetings as they clocked Willie’s arrival, slipping into the other side of the booth. Willie smiled and tried to focus on what they were saying so he could beat back the disappointment of not getting an answer. He only startled slightly when Alex’s lips were suddenly at his ear.

“Six months of dating is definitely long enough. Take me home, pretty boy.”

And Willie felt his own cheeks heat, prayed that Luke and Reggie wouldn’t spot the change in the low light as he settled himself further into Alex’s embrace. He kept himself occupied with linking his fingers through Alex’s where they still wrapped around his waist and tried not to think too much about finally getting to sleep next to the guy he was falling more in love with every day as he counted down the minutes to bar close.

He wasn’t even surprised when he woke up in the morning and realized a feeling of homecoming had settled fully and deeply into his heart and soul. At some point in the last six months home and Alex had become synonymous anyway.

3.

The worst part about getting in a car accident and breaking his leg in three places was the fact that Willie couldn’t skate for several months while he recovered and went through physical therapy and all the other bullshit necessary to make sure he was strong enough to compete at a similar level as before. His sponsors had been understanding and Willie was able to do little things here and there to fulfill his contracts, so he wasn’t too worried about any of that for the time being. Mostly he was just bored and fidgety. But it was okay, because the best part about getting in car accident and breaking his leg in three places was having Alex as his caretaker while he recovered.

Alex, who had shown up at the hospital when Willie was still groggy from surgery and climbed into bed with him and kissed his bruises and told him he loved him. Alex, who had come back to the hospital every chance he got for the week Willie was stuck there post-op. Alex, who had practically moved into Willie’s apartment once he was sent home, even though they had both agreed they weren’t ready to live together yet, because Willie needed someone to help him get to and from the bathroom and shower and Alex was obviously his first choice despite the fact that Willie had three capable roommates who had offered to help.

Alex was the best part about his recovery, hands down. Except for the fact that he seemed to think Willie was made of glass now.

They were supposed to be having a movie night at the Sunset Curve apartment. Willie had gotten his cast off and been switched to a walking boot earlier that day, and he had told Alex he would come by after he left the hospital because he needed a break from the same four walls of his bedroom. Luke and Reggie had sent a text that they were picking up a pizza and drinks, so Willie had hoped for maybe a little bit of make-out action on the couch before they got back. Instead, Alex had fretted and fluttered about, forcing Willie to lay down on the couch with his leg elevated while Alex plumped his pillows and asked him a million times if he was feeling okay. Willie had been about ready to tackle Alex just to get him to shut up, still healing leg be damned, when Luke and Reggie came back.

Then it had been an argument over what to watch with Reggie insisting they hadn’t watched Star Wars recently even though they definitely had, and by the time the yellow words were rolling across the screen Willie realized Alex had opted for the floor next to the couch instead of the actual couch itself. He had his arm stretched out along Willie’s hip, but it wasn’t nearly enough contact. So, Willie swung his legs over the edge of the couch and stood, before unceremoniously dropping himself down directly in Alex’s lap. Alex let out an indignant huff, rolling his eyes as Reggie turned to shush him.

“Willie, what the hell? Get back on the couch, you need to rest your leg.”

Willie rolled his own eyes, snuggling further into Alex’s chest, winding his arms around the back of his neck to play with the blonde hair that was a bit overgrown at the back.

“No, I need to cuddle with my boyfriend. You keep acting like you’re gonna hurt me if you touch me and its honestly pretty rude. I’m not that breakable.”

Alex made sound of protest in the back of his throat, his hands waving around and above Willie’s booted leg.

“Obviously you are very breakable!”

“Yeah, in a fight with a car,” Willie snorted, sighing and refusing to budge even an inch. “You could never hurt me. C’mon, baby, please?”

Alex flushed from head to toe. Willie didn’t usually break out the softer pet names unless they were alone because they kind of made Alex blue screen, but desperate times called for desperate measures. Willie pressed a kiss against Alex’s throbbing pulse as well, in for a penny, in for a pound and all that.

“Guys,” Reggie whined, “can you like...take it to the bedroom or shut up? Some of us are trying to watch the Empire strike back here.”

And Alex, sweet, beautiful, perfect Alex, scooped Willie up like he weighed nothing at all, cheeks still pink and eyes unfocused in a way that told Willie his mind had taken a nosedive into the gutter. He couldn’t help but laugh, clinging on so that he wasn’t complete deadweight in Alex’s very capable arms.

“Dude, seriously?” He heard Luke call out, but the sound was muffled quickly behind Alex’s bedroom door as it closed, the lock clicking into place.

“That wasn’t fair.”

Alex’s tone didn’t match his words, his voice going breathless as he snuggled both of them into the bed, his hands sneaking under the hem of Willie’s crop top to skim along his ribs.

“All’s fair in love and war, babe.”

Willie let Alex swallow the sound of his laugh, lips meeting for the much-anticipated make-out session he had been hoping for earlier. Movie night was forgotten. By the time the sun was rising, Willie was pretty sure he had convinced Alex exactly how not breakable he was.

+1

Alex wasn’t usually the one to initiate physical contact. Willie was completely at ease handing out kisses and hugs and linking their fingers together whenever it suited him, but Alex wasn’t quite as uninhibited. He had gotten better over the last year or so of dating, but he still wasn’t quite as casual with it. It was easier when they were alone, Willie’s lingering glances and complimentary words making him feel bold and confident.

It was kind of a running joke between them, the fact that Alex had initiated their first kiss so suddenly only to then spend the rest of their relationship holding himself back a bit. And even though Willie never meant it as more than a tease, Alex had been genuinely trying to change that about himself. He had started therapy and he was doing the work to unpack all of the ways his parents had fucked him up over the years. He was learning and growing, and not just for Willie, but for himself. It was nice.

Okay, it was really fucking hard and stressful. But it was also kind of working. Alex had found himself feeling a lot less anxious, especially when Willie was out of town competing and Alex had flashbacks to the car accident and other minor injuries Willie had sustained while on the road. He had learned some new coping mechanisms, and he had started to be a bit freer with his own physical affection. Which definitely had some very nice side effects.

Side effects like finally being the one to make Willie blush and blank out for once.

It shouldn’t have been a big deal. They had been dating for over a year, they regularly spent the night together, they were fully committed to each other. They had sex for Christ’s sake, so nothing should have felt like too much intimacy wise. And it didn’t. Until they were at some BBQ for one of Willie’s skater friends and Alex started to feel a bit overwhelmed, but instead of taking himself into the bathroom to have a quiet moment and pull it together, he found Willie, sitting next to a fire pit with a beer in hand. He didn’t even think twice before dropping into his lap and snatching the can from Willie’s grasp to steal a sip.

The contact was instantly comforting, and Alex suddenly realized that must be why Willie was constantly crawling into his own lap. It felt cozy and safe in his boyfriend’s arms, every part of him warm and close enough for Alex to inhale the scent of coconut shampoo mixed with cherry Chapstick. It was only when he went to return the beer can to Willie that he realized he had kind of frozen. For one second, Alex let himself panic that he had gone too far, done something wrong that would end up ruining everything, and then he realized Willie was breathing a lot faster than normal, one of his hands finding purchase against Alex’s waist and squeezing. The conversation carried on around them, but time seemed to stand still within their own personal little bubble.

“Alex, you cannot just do that and expect me not to want you six ways to Sunday now.”

Willie’s breath was hot against Alex’s neck, his words coming out fast and furious like he had to say them all now before he couldn’t speak at all. Alex felt his cheeks warm as he turned his head slightly to meet Willie’s eyes. His pupils were wide, cheeks the kind of ruddy dark brown that Alex had learned meant he was definitely blushing too. The fingers on the hand that was clenched around Alex’s hip danced across the thin strip of skin between his pants and his shirt, drawing a series of patterns across Alex’s side that made him shiver. Willie groaned beneath him, the sound breathless and just loud enough for Alex to hear. He smirked, wiggling a little like he was trying to get more comfortable.

“Lex, I swear to God I will make out with you so hard right in front of all these people. It won’t bother me. You gotta stop it unless you’re willing to risk that.”

Alex kinda wanted to risk it. Knowing he made Willie feel that out of control was a huge rush. God, he really should have taken advantage of all this physical stuff a lot earlier, huh?

“You wanna make out with me here, or you wanna make out with me back at your apartment?”

Alex kept his voice hushed, dipping his head so his lips were right next to Willie’s ear. Willie shuddered beneath him and then downed his beer in one long swallow. He nudged Alex to standing, following him but not moving out from his spot slightly behind him as his hand fit itself more snuggly into place along Alex’s waist.

“Gents,” he addressed the other skaters scattered around the fire with a two fingered salute, “Lex and I gotta get going. Got some plans to take care of.”

Alex tried not to snort and blush at the obvious undertone to Willie’s words. The rest of the group had no such qualms, hooting and hollering as Willie practically dragged Alex out of the back yard, hand raising to give them a middle finger when Alex heard Max call out get you some, Stewart! Alex laughed, stepping up close behind Willie as they came around to the front of the house, voice dipping low in a tease.

“Jeez, Wils, who knew sitting in your lap would do it for you?”

Willie turned without warning, catching Alex before he could trip into him and surging forward to connect their lips in a kiss that featured a bit more teeth than usual.

“You do it for me, Alex. It’s all you, all the time. God, I fucking love you.”

Alex didn’t get a chance to respond before Willie was pulling away and ushering Alex into his car. He linked their hands together on the console between the seats, and Alex didn’t even complain once about his speeding. He was too busy thinking up all the other things he could do to make Willie lose it in public like that again. He had a lot of time to make up for, and the rest of their lives to do so.  

[seanfalco]

The Going Away Party | Misfits Timeline Anomaly’verse

an oc x oc collaboration between @seanfalco & @super-unpredictable98​

Word Count: 5k Warnings: Smut, Jealousy a/n: The quad’s last night in London before starting a new chapter in their lives.

[ masterlist ]

“Okay, so... is that everythin’?” Win’s Nathan asked, trying to peer over Lyddie’s shoulder at the list in her hand.

"I think so, it's not like it's gonna be a ton of people, the flat can’t really fit more ten people sitting down, fifteen, if they’re standing up..." Lydia murmured, checking the list once again, her people-pleasing reflexes kicking in trying to remember what each of their guests liked. 

"Good thing Natty told us, I'm so happy to help you guys," she mused, following Win's Nathan while texting Win to say they would be home soon.  "I'll miss the Estate. I know we're not going forever, but it feels weird... I've been living here my whole life.

“Yeah, I hear yeh, but it’ll be a nice change of scenery,” Win’s Nathan exclaimed, pushing the trolley for her.  “I’m excited for yeh to perform,” he said, flashing her a grin.

"Me too, I think I'm kinda numb at this point, if I actually access my feelings, I might faint," Lydia laughed as she put the groceries on the conveyor.  "Do you think that's enough beer?  Should I get more?" she mused at the four cases in front of them.

“We can tell people t’bring their own too,” Win’s Nathan’s laughed.  “Oh.... shite,” he breathed, quickly ducking down behind Lydia.

"What?" she almost instinctively made a force field around them, but thankfully she held back — that would've been hard to explain.  "Is it someone that tried to kill us?" she asked, looking around.

“No, even worse!” Nathan hissed, the checkout girl giving them a strange look.  “That’s Win’s evil stepmum.  The queen bitch, herself!” he exclaimed, gesturing toward the blonde woman nearby, who bore a rather striking resemblance to her daughter, Delilah.

"Ah, who cares, I'm not scared of her... If she tries me, her and her daughter will have matching scars," Lydia said, bagging the groceries with a chuckle.  "Nothing can ruin my mood today, not even the queen bitch supreme."

“Yeah, y’say that now...” Nathan mumbled, eyeing her warily.  She hadn’t seemed to see them... yet, but with the determined way Lydia was moving, it wouldn’t be long til she noticed them, having just gotten all her bagged groceries back into her own trolley.

"What is she gonna do?  Call the manager and say 'the girl with blue hair assaulted my daughter'?  The worst she can do is bore me to death, you shouldn't be scared of a gold-digging slag with ego problems, you're basically a superhero," Lydia pointed out, turning to kiss him before loading the groceries into the car Simon managed to borrow from their parents.

Win’s Nathan spluttered, but accepted Lyddie’s kiss.  “I guess,” he muttered.  “I don’t always feel like a superhero though.”  As soon as the words would out of his mouth he swallowed thickly, Win’s stepmum having clearly spotted him, her head swiveling his way and suddenly her trolley was changing directions.  He couldn’t see her eyes behind the dark sunglasses she wore, but he swore she was glaring bloody murder at him. 

“You!” she cried, running her trolley right into his shin as he yelped in pain.  “You and you!” she amended, venom dripping from her voice as she turned her glare on Lydia.  “You’re the miscreants that got my Delilah sent to the hospital!” she cried. 

“Oh hi, Karen,” Nathan drawled, “So y’remember me?  I’m flattered!”

"Hey, Karen... name suits you," Lydia added under her breath.  She was probably the only one able to understand the joke from the future, but she didn't care.  "I didn't do anything, Delilah's mouth sent her to the hospital, it wasn't me... and if you touch my boyfriend again you'll see who goes to the hospital next," Lydia growled.  She tried to be civil, but seeing her run into Nathan like that was too much. 

"You okay, sweetie?" she cooed, running her fingers through his curls as he nursed his bruised shin.

“Oh please, he’s fine!” Karen snapped, giving Nathan a disdainful look as he pouted, rubbing at his shin.  “I want you to tell my ungrateful slag of a stepdaughter not to contact us again.  Her father was willing to overlook her past transgressions, which is more than she deserved, honestly, but no longer.  He wishes to have nothing further to do with her and it’s about time.”

"I'll really appreciate if you wash your fucking mouth before talking about my girlfriend," Lydia snapped back, flashing her a hollow grin before taking Nathan's hand to avoid slapping the woman.  "Maybe watch what your own daughter is doing in her spare time.  You know, besides committing crimes, terrorizing children... but it'll be my pleasure, I'll tell Win that her shitty family is finally leaving her alone, she'll be enthused!"

Nathan let Lydia pull him away.  He knew, though, that she was bluffing.  She wouldn’t tell Win what Karen had said, it would hurt Win too much.  She’d always held out hope that her dad might finally come to his senses and try to make up for everything, to be the dad she needed him to be, and anger bubbled up inside him. 

“But what about me?” he called, catching Karen’s attention once more.  “Am I still allowed t’call?  I mean, how else are we supposed to continue our illicit affair, Karen?  You were the best cougar I’ve ever had!  I thought what he had meant somethin’!  And now you’re just throwin’ me away like a old rag?” he cried dramatically, drawing more onlookers’ attention and causing a scene, Karen’s mouth falling open.

"Oh my God!  You're saying that you're cheating on me with this crusty old cunt?" Lydia cried, dramatically falling to her knees, crocodile tears running down her face.  "Tell me now!  She's the one who gave you crabs wasn't she?  WASN'T SHE?” she sobbed, turning next to Win’s stepmum.  

“You homewrecker, I’m pregnant with his child and you stab me in the back, stealing my boyfriend, Karen?  You'll pay for what you did, you monster!"  Lydia knew that would probably end up somewhere in some tabloid, but Karen's expression was absolutely priceless, totally worth the damage control afterwards.

Snickering, Nathan pulled Lyddie to her feet and jumped into the car, leaving Karen gaping after them as people stared and muttered behind their hands. 

“Oh my God, that was priceless!” he laughed. “Lyddie, you were amazing!  Absolute perfection!”

 He knew it wouldn’t be enough to make up for the fact that Win’s dad was finally cutting her off for good, but it had felt good to humiliate Karen one last time.

"Thanks... I gotta practice for my big Broadway debut," Lydia laughed, taking Win's Nathan's face in her hands and kissing him lovingly.  "Once we get home, Winnie can borrow my power and get rid of that bruise — speaking of that!  I don't know what to say to her, she's gonna be devastated; I wanted tonight to be perfect for her."

“Maybe... we shouldn’t tell her?” Nathan ventured hesitantly.  He didn’t want her to be upset either and he had a feeling hearing about this would completely ruin her night.

"Yeah, maybe it's best, at least for now..." Lydia agreed.  "Maybe in New York, if I were to receive bad news, I'd rather be on top of the Empire State than a flat in Wertham."

——

“Jeeze what’s taking them so long,” Win muttered, checking her phone.  She and Lyddie’s Nathan were on decoration duty while Lyddie and her Nathan had gone to the supermarket to grab the food.  Smart idea, Win thought ruefully.  Though Lydia had been teaching her some things, she still struggled in the kitchen and didn’t want to ruin the party with her subpar cooking skills.

With Nathan’s powers and Win borrowing them, it had taken them almost no time at all to decorate the flat for the party.  

"They're shaggin', they have t'be!" Lyddie's Nathan groaned, throwing himself down to the couch.  "It's almost time for the party and they’re shaggin' in her mum's car!"

“Maybe they just got held up,” Win murmured, sitting down next to him on the edge and running her fingers through his hair.  “I’m sure they’ll be back soon.”

"Hey, loves!" Lydia exclaimed, shouldering open the door while carrying two huge paper bags under her arms.  "Sorry we took so long, the line was crazy..." 

"The line, uh huh..." her Natha teased, getting up to help.  "Let's pretend I believe you."

“Oh sure, like you weren’t gettin’ frisky with Win while you were waitin’ for us,” Win’s Nathan teased, carrying the beer in.

"How dare you!  We did no such thing!" Lyddie's Nathan gasped.  "We've been workin'..." 

"I wish we had time for that," Lydia mused, looking over at Win's Nathan, he was really sexy dealing with the whole Karen thing earlier.  "But looks like I'll have to wait until after the party, the guests will be here any second."

“Why didn’t we do that?” Win teased, following Lyddie’s Nathan into the kitchen to help unload the food.

"Cause I'm nervous..." he admitted, it was a little scary, every time he remembered he was moving across the world, he felt slightly sick to his stomach.  "But after the party I'll take care o'that," he pushed that fear aside and smiled.

“Aw, Nats,” Win murmured, wrapping her arms around him, momentarily surprised at his moment of vulnerability.  “I’m nervous too,” she whispered.  “But the important thing is we’ll all be together.”

Since the flat was so tiny, they only invited a few people — their closest friends, but Lydia was still freaking out.  Being anxious about being a good host, on top of leaving for New York the next day, on top of the unpleasant (to say the least) encounter from earlier made her run and hide in the bedroom for a moment, not sure if she was doing everything right.

“Hey Lyds, you alright?” Win asked, pushing the door open a hair, having noticed her hurry out of the room.

"I-I don't know... I think I'm having a little bit of a panic attack, but I'll be fine," Lydia assured her, kissing the back of Win's hands.  "Don't worry, baby, go have fun, I'll be right there."

“Are you sure?  I really don’t mind if you want me to keep you company,” Win insisted.

"Maybe just for a second..." Lydia admitted, curling up against Win, trying to breathe properly.  "I love you, Winnie. You’re amazing, you know that?  If anyone ever says you're not, the problem's with them," she insisted heatedly.

“Oh Lyddie, I love you too,” Win murmured, holding her girlfriend while rubbing soothing circles against her back.  “Did someone say I’m not amazing?” she asked with a laugh.

"I just wanted you to know, that's all," Lydia mumbled.  "You're the best girlfriend I could ask for, and I don't ever wanna be without you."  She said, looking up and placing a gentle kiss to Win's lips.

“Oh babe, you’re so sweet,” Win murmured, kissing her back as she caressed her cheek.  “I don’t ever wanna be without you either, Lyddie.”  She could hear the Nathans’ raucous laughter from the other room and was glad they were out there entertaining.  “Everything’s gunna be alright,” Win assured Lydia.  “Like I told Nathan... the most important part is we’ll all be together.”

"Yeah, that's all that matters..." Lydia agreed, getting up.  Before opening the door, she hesitated, looking in the mirror to make sure everything was in place.  "Let's do this." 

"Hey, are you okay, Lyds?" Simon asked, pulling her to the corner as soon as he noticed her coming out of the room. 

"Yeah yeah, don't worry, I was just a little scared, but I feel better now," she smiled.

Win gave Lyddie’s hand a squeeze before Simon pulled her off to the side to talk to her and she waded into the small sea of bodies, looking for a tall curly head.  

“Hey! There yeh are, Winnie,” her Nathan exclaimed, his twin not too far off.  “Where were ya?” 

“I was talking to Lyddie, she got a little overwhelmed, but I think she’s okay now,” she murmured, looking around at all their friends.  Most of them seemed to know her somehow, more like a faint memory, and though it made her a little sad to think about, it was bearable.  At least they knew her at all.

Lydia tried to forget all the foggy thoughts getting in the way and tried to have fun.  The Nathans worked really hard on planning the party, she didn't want to upset them by not enjoying it.  Grabbing a beer, she sat down with the rest of the gang and her partners.  Everyone seemed happy, chatting about anything and everything. 

"So, what are you guys talking about?"

"Not much, just gushing about you," Win answered, leaning into her side as she joined them, resting her head against her shoulder for a moment.

"About me?" Lydia blushed, laughing as she imagined what they could be saying. 

"Yeah, we were talkin' about your sexual prowess with three lovers," her Nathan mocked. 

"Nathan, Jesus Christ..." Simon shook his head with a wince.  "How many times have I told you not to do that?  I don't wanna know!"

"Actually we were talking about the musical, and how excited we are to be spending time in New York again," Win cut in, giving Simon an apologetic grin.

"It feels so odd to think about it, it's like a dream, I'm really excited, you know even in the future there has never been a female Lonny in Rock of Ages, I have no idea how this happened!"  Lydia was always so excited to talk about the musical.  She knew she’d never be able to repay them for getting her to audition.  "Of course, everyone's coming to the City to watch me when the night comes... I need everyone there," she insisted.

"Of course!" Alisha exclaimed excitedly, grabbing onto Simon's arm. 

"Don't worry, we'll make sure everyone's there, Lollipop," Win's Nathan assured her with a grin, his hand resting on her thigh. 

"Win? Hey, Win!"  A voice through the crowd drew her attention and she looked up to see her bandmate, Max making his way over.  She'd been a little surprised that the Nathans' had thought to invite him, but she was glad to see him.

"Max, hey!" she exclaimed, getting up from the couch to greet him with a hug.

"Who's that?" Lydia whispered to her Nathan, feeling just the tiniest hint of jealousy, not that she would ever admit it... 

"That's Max, th’other Nathan had the idea to invite him," he explained.  

Lydia watched that with an indecipherable expression.  She didn't really understand why she felt so off. 

"You alright?" Kelly asked, following Lydia's eyes. 

"Yeah, sure," she answered distractedly, getting up to introduce herself.  "Hey there."

"Hey!" Win exclaimed.  "Oh, that's right, you guys have never been introduced before," she remembered.  "Lyds, this is my bandmate Max.  Max, this is my lovely girlfriend, Lydia," she said, wearing a bright smile.

"Nice to meet you," Lydia murmured,  shaking his hand.  "Make yourself at home, get a drink, a snack... I think I remember seeing you at the music festival that Winnie and I played at together, is that right?" she asked, taking her seat with a smile that made Simon and Lyddie's Nathan exchange a look. 

“What's wrong with her?” Simon mouthed while Nathan shrugged, but he was wondering the same thing.

Win frowned as Lydia hurried away again before even really waiting for Max's response, but she couldn't exactly ask her about it right then. 

"Hey, Win, d'you think we could go somewhere quieter?” Max asked, interrupting her thoughts.  “There’s, uhh... there's something I need to talk to you about.” 

"Uh, yeah, sure..." Win said awkwardly, looking around for a quiet spot.  She didn’t exactly like the sound of that.

"I don't like him," Lydia announced suddenly, bouncing her leg nervously as she sat back down. "Not one bit..." 

"Aww, is someone jealous?" her Nathan teased, poking her playfully. 

"So what if I am?" she demanded, folding her arms. 

"I'm sure there's nothing to worry about, Peanut..." Simon took her hand. 

"Yeah, the Nathans should be jealous, but you're much hotter than that guy," Alisha assured her with a grin. 

"I feel like I should be offended, but I don't exactly understand why," Lyddie's Nathan muttered with a twist of his lips.

"Don't worry, Lollipop, I may have been a little jealous of the guy back in th'day, but he's good people.  Surprisingly," Win's Nathan exclaimed. 

"C'mon, we can talk on the balcony," Win suggested, opening the sliding door and ushering Max outside.  "So, what did you wanna talk about, Max?" 

"It's actually somethin' I've been wanting to tell you for a while, and when I heard you were leaving to go to the States... well, I couldn't put off telling you any longer.”

Oh no, Win thought with a grimace.  This can’t be good.

“Winrey, I'm in love with you," Max blurted out, taking her hand. 

"What?" Win exclaimed in response, nearly ripping her hand from his.

"I've been in love with you for years, don't you remember that night we spent together once? Didn't that mean something to you?"

"Being 'good people' doesn't stop him from hitting on our girlfriend..." Lydia huffed. "Did you see the way he looked at her?  I'm telling you, I have an eye for these things." 

"Win has three partners, I think that's more than enough," Kelly laughed. 

"Wow, Lollipop, haven't seen you like this ever since Ruth..." Lyddie's Nathan taunted. "Remember?" 

"Yeah, granny fucker, very funny!" Lydia replied, shifting slightly closer to the balcony to hear their conversation.

"Max, what the fuck are you talking about?" Win exclaimed.  “I never slept with you!”

“I know we were pretty drunk that night, but you have to remember.”

“Oh my God,” Win groaned.  It must have been the other her, the one originally from this timeline before she showed up.

"I'm already in a relationship.  Please don't do this, Max," she begged, saying anything to get him to back off. 

"Do what?  C'mon Win, I know you feel something for me too." 

"Max, I—" Win sighed, unsure what else to say.  This was not the conversation she wanted to be having right now, or ever to be honest.  Max was her best friend outside of the ASBO group, and she didn't want to lose him, but there was no way she was gunna jeopardize her relationship for him, for something she didn’t do.  

"Just, please Win—" Before she could react he leaned in to kiss her.

In a flurry of events the sliding door suddenly flew open and Lydia’s angry voice echoed over the Estate.  "BACK THE FUCK OFF MY GIRLFRIEND" she cried, fuming.  

The two Nathans looked at each other surprised, Lyddie wouldn't act like that without a reason... she must've heard or seen something they didn’t. 

"You come to my flat, in the middle of my party, and you try to kiss my fucking girlfriend?  What the fuck, man?" she shouted angrily.  The rest of the gang was taken back, Simon’s eyes widening — it had been a long time since he'd seen his sister that angry. 

Turns out she did have a good eye for that stuff. 

"Get the fuck out!" Lydia snapped, pointing at the door.  "I've had a pretty hard day, I don't need this shit.  Take the hint and leave."

"But, Win, please?" Max stuttered, hesitating. 

"Max, I'm sorry, but you need t'leave," Win said, giving him a pointed look.  For a moment she didn't think he was going to, but finally he stormed out and Win slumped into the nearest chair, hiding her face in her hands.

"Very well done, Nathan, brilliant!" Lydia snapped at both of them, thought they couldn't have possibly known this was going to happen. "Very memorable last night in England!" she cried, throwing her hands up. 

She wasn't mad at Win, of course not, it wasn't her fault, though the thought of her — any version of her — sleeping with him made Lyddie's stomach churn and she slumped down next to Winnie. 

"Hey, it's okay," she whispered.  "I'm so sorry this happened, I... wanted tonight to be perfect for you."

"It's not your fault, Lyddie," Win murmured, completely embarrassed.  "I'm so sorry, I didn't think he'd... I had no idea he felt that way," she said, squeezing her eyes shut.  "I'm gunna... uh, I'll be right back—“  Before anyone could say anything more Win made a b-line for the bedroom, away from everyone's prying eyes.

Lydia was pretty much used to sharing her entire life with the gang, but she’d known them for a long time, Win had only known them since Community Service and she suddenly felt bad for making such a scene in front of everyone. "

“Winnie, baby," Lyddie exclaimed, hurrying to the door and knocking gently.  "Can I come in?  I just wanna talk and hold you, I'm sorry for all the yelling, I just couldn't help it."

“Yeah, you can come in,” Win said, her voice muffled.  As soon as Lydia shut the door behind her Win quickly scrubbed at her eyes, trying to hide her tears.

“I’m so sorry, I had no idea he felt that way... I can’t believe he tried to kiss me— I can’t believe he actually thought I’d leave you guys for him.  I’m just... I’m sorry, I don’t want you t’think—“  She shook her head and sank to the bed.

"There's nothing you could've done, baby, it was completely delusional of him to come here and pull this stunt," Lydia joined Win in bed and pulled her close.  "I love you, I would never judge you because of that.  I was really jealous and I embarrassed you, I'm so sorry about that."

“You were jealous?” Win asked softly, glancing over, a small smile tugging at her lips.

"Yeah, of course..." Lyddie felt her cheeks burn slightly.  "I saw th’way he looked at you, I saw you hugging him, I was bloody jealous."

“Aw babe,” Win drawled, her embarrassment forgotten for the moment.  “Is it terrible that I kinda like that?  It makes me feel special,” she laughed.  “I’m sorry, I’m terrible.”

"No, you're not terrible and you are special..." Lydia felt happy for being able to make Win smile after that shitshow.  "I just love you too much, and thinking about someone else with you made me lose it, you're mine."

“Someone other than a Nathan?” Win teased.  “I like how fiery you got babe, it was pretty hot,” she admitted, sliding her hand along Lyddie’s jaw as she leaned in to kiss her.

"I've never seen you get jealous over me..." Lydia mused, kissing her back, one hand firmly squeezing her thigh.  "But that's good to know, I should get jealous over you more often," she joked.

“I’ve been jealous before,” Win admitted softly between kisses.  “Though it wasn’t like some asshole was about to try to shove his tongue down your throat,” she said with a small laugh. “But I’ve definitely been jealous,” she said.  “It’s usually when fans flirt with you and you don’t realize it, or when guys at the bar check you out...”

"Yeah you're right, it does feel good," Lyddie murmured, using her thigh to part Win's legs, as she pushed her back, grinding against her.  "To know that you're scared of losing me, it's cute..." she moved to kiss Win's neck.  "I think we might be getting a little outta hand here, do you want me to stop?"

“No, please don’t stop,” Win moaned, tilting her head for Lyddie to keep kissing her neck.

“Win, are you oka—?!” her Nathan exclaimed, cutting off as soon as he saw Lyddie with her. “Oh! I... sorry.  I came t’check on yeh... I knew that guy was bad news!”

"Hey, go on, sit down," Lydia bit her lip.  "That is if you'd like to watch…” she drawled before turning her attention back to her girlfriend.  "Don't worry, we'll be back at the party in no time, but you gotta be quiet, okay, Winnie?" Lydia purred next to her ear, one of her hands sliding under Win's shirt as her thigh kept rubbing against her girlfriend's sex.  "Come on, baby, you know what to do..."

Win nodded, careful not to make a noise as she reached for her Nathan who joined them without having to be told twice.

"So beautiful like this..." Lyddie breathed before capturing Win's lips, one hand sliding between her legs, gathering her arousal as lube to tease her clit.  "Say you're mine, Winnie," she commanded.

“I’m yours, Lyddie,” she breathed, her breath catching, and she rolled her hips against her hand.

"You're so good, baby," Lydia pumped one finger inside of her while nipping at the tender skin of her neck.  "I love you so much."

“I love you too, please Lyddie,” Win whimpered, jumping as she felt Nathan’s thumb circle her clit as Lydia’s fingers pumped into her.  “Oh—“ she sighed, writhing at the pleasure that coursed through her at such two simple touches.

"Please what?  You wanna come for us?  Is that what you want, baby?  Cause I wanna watch you..." Lyddie added another finger, moving faster, while leaving a trail of hickeys down Win's neck.

“Yes, please, I’ll be quiet,” Win whined, threading her fingers in Lyddie’s hair, her other hand seeking Nathan’s.

"Good girl, come for me," Lyddie smirked, by now all the anxiety and sadness had faded, the only one she could focus on was Win.

As if Lyddie’s words were a switch Win climaxed, her body tensing as pleasure took over and she was floating for a moment.  When she came down from her high, her chest heaving, she looked up at her two lovers and gave a tremulous smile.  “I love you both, so much.”

"I love you too," Lydia licked her fingers clean and gently kissed Win's forehead.  "Are you ready to go back?  Can't leave Natty out there by himself for too long," she laughed.

“Yeah, you go on, I’ll be there in a sec,” Win murmured, sitting up, her eyes trailing over to her Nathan who seemed rather quiet.

"Okay," Lyddie stole one last kiss before leaving.  When she came out, she found exactly what she expected: Nathan being Nathan, cracking jokes and pulling tricks that only made everyone roll their eyes, while Lydia laughed.

“Did you ever have a thing with Max?” Win’s Nathan asked quietly. 

“No,” Win answered truthfully.  “He’s a good friend, but I never thought of him that way.  Though,  if what he said tonight is to be believed, apparently my clone from this timeline did…”

Nathan nodded reluctantly.  “Guess he’s been in love with you ever since, huh?  Or at least… well, you know...” 

“Yeah, I guess,” Win murmured.  “This is just so fucked up.” 

“I know,” Nathan exclaimed, reaching for her and Win let him pull her into his arms.  “But it’s not your fault.”

“I know, but I’m still sorry...” she insisted, her words muffled against his shirt. 

“Y’got nothin’ to be sorry for.  I’m sorry he did that t’yeh.” 

Win stayed there for a long time, just letting Nathan hold her.  

“C’mon, let’s go back out there and put all this behind us, huh?  Don’t wanna keep our lovely Lyddie waitin’,” Nathan said, pulling Win to her feet. 

“Yeah, definitely not,” Win agreed, seeming better, and they left the room to rejoin the party.

"So you were right about Max after all," Lyddie's Nathan let his head rest on her lap while they all watched a movie.  

"Yeah, as usual..." she teased.  "But I thought you were used to it by now."  She grinned as Win and the other Nathan joined them.  It felt so odd to know that tomorrow she would have to say goodbye to all their friends and her home. 

"Hey, Simon?" a voice came from the door, Max having left it ajar as he’d left and Lydia looked at her brother, tears springing to her eyes as she recognized the voice. 

"In here, dad!" he called. 

"I was hoping this was the right address, you know how I am sometimes..." 

"Yeah," Lyddie laughed as she shed a tear. 

"The car, right... I'll get the keys.  Dad, you remember my friend Lyddie, right?" Simon asked, taking her hand as he got to his feet.  "She's going to the US tomorrow to perform on Broadway." 

"Wow, that's amazing!  Congratulations!  I remember how talented you are," he exclaimed, holding his hand out to shake hers, but instead Lydia threw her arms around him.

Win watched Lydia hug her dad from her spot on the couch and she was overcome with a sudden wave of emotion. She really wished that Lyddie could tell him the truth about her identity some day.  She wanted her to be happy.  And a part of her wished that she and her own dad could work things out.  For a moment she thought about giving him a call, but what would she say?

"Do you wanna stay?  We have plenty of food and beer," Lydia asked hopefully, fixing her hair to cover the birthmark on her shoulder.  

"Thank you, but I can't, I'm supposed to pick my daughter up at the library.  It's getting a little late, don't want her walking around alone." 

"Yeah, that's... yeah, it's dangerous at night, thanks for dropping by," Lydia stumbled over her words. 

"Well, congrats again on the Broadway thing," he said, giving Lydia a tender look and waved at the rest of the guests.  "Have a good night you lot, sorry for interrupting your party," he chuckled before leaving. 

"Goodbye," Lydia waved back, falling into her Nathan's lap. "—Dad," she added softly after he’d already left.

Win looked over as Lyddie returned, slipping her hand in hers without a word and giving her a squeeze.  “Can I get you anything?” she asked.

"Just a hug," Lydia murmured, wiping the tears from her face as she took Win in her arms.  "Let's just finish the movie, yeah?"

“Of course, babe,” Win murmured, pulling Lydia into her arms.  As they watched the movie, the Nathans cracking jokes and quoting random lines Win idly ran her fingers through Lyddie’s hair, feeling strangely at peace, despite how the evening had gone.

———————-

Tag list: @magic-multicolored-miracle @santacarlahorrorshow @messengeronthemoon @the-freckled-luba @firstpersonnarrator  @spanishmossmagnolia @salvador-daley @forenschik @a-ghoulish-tale @love-is-dirty-baby @vonkimmeren  @violetrainbow412-blog

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

Ransom stares at you from across the room as you bring your glass of wine to your lips, you can tell as he’s biting that buttery cookie what he’s thinking about, it’s all over his face.

The light blush rises in your cheeks, watching him just over Joni’s shoulder, shes to self-absorbed to notice your not paying attention, Ransom does though. 

Abruptly he stands and leaves the room, heading for the stairs. Drawing yourself away, you go up to, quiet as a mouse cause they squeak. When you get to the top, Ransom beckons you into a spare bedroom and once you slip in, the door shuts and he crowds you against the door, pinning you against it with his hips, hands on each side of you closing you in. 

“There’s my girl…” 

Chris is in the middle of a talk show, and your sitting in the crowd, watching your man. Damn you can see he’s a bit nervous, the way his hands are moving just as fast as his words, and he keeps breaking out in shy grins and overabundant laughs. 

His eyes seek out yours and you mouth to him ‘Relax, you got this.’ and automatically his shoulders drop a bit and you see a deep inhale, a bit more calmness in his face as he turns back to the host. 

“Sorry, could you repeat that?” 

Ari watches the beachfront as you moan softly, rolling in the bed to sit up, clutching the sheet to your chest as you blink the sleep out of your eyes. 

“Handsome, what are you doing up?” you whisper, and he looks over his shoulder. 

“Sorry baby, just watching the sun come up.” 

You stretch to a stand and come over, your hand sliding along his back as you tuck up against his side, smiling at the way the sun was inching its way over the water. “It is beautiful…” You nuzzle his chest and lean against him for a moment. 

Soon his hands are sliding under the sheet and he yanks it away, carrying you back to the bed. “You really think Im done with you yet Baby?” 

Steve, he’s shy. But he can’t help but notice you as you working on some project for Howard Stark. You glance at him a few times, but he is to quick to keep a gaze, looking down and away. Finally, you set your clipboard down and approach him, holding out your hand. Bashful blue eyes of the super-soldier lift from your hand to your face. 

“I’m Y/N” you say and his hand falls into yours, bit, large, and warm. It feels comfortable there and a relieved smile crosses his face. 

“I’m Steve.” 

He loved you, more then he could know.

It was in the way you would crash on the couch next to him and shove a bowl of Capn’ Crunch in his hands without him asking, or how you would perch in his lap at his computer and read over a chapter he was unsure about. How when he got frustrated, you NEVER backed down, but challenged him head on to face his problems instead of running away. It was the nights he would find you awake, worrying yourself and he would pull you into his hold so that for once he could take care of you instead of you taking care of him. All these things he had a hard time saying to you, thanking you for, so he cupped your face in his hands and poured it all into a kiss, one that swept you into his embrace, losing yourself into it. When he pulled away. 

You whispered. “what was that for?” and his thumbs brushed along your cheeks. 

“Because I love you Y/N.”  

“ya know what, superpowers bitches! I got them, ya sure you wanna mess with me?” 

Your gun is trained, your ready. As soon as Jensen started finger cocking his way across the men, you dropped them one by one. You could hear him in the earpiece you were wearing responding to your shooting. “Fuck baby, every single one, it’s so fucking hot when you go all sniper for me.” 

You are dismantling your gun, rolling your eyes. “Jensen get your ass out of there now.” 

“Aye Aye Boss.” He states and you snort with a laugh hearing him. 

Ari’s hands clasp together and you look away from his pleading face. “Don’t, you can’t ask this of me, Ari. I told you I couldn’t do this anymore.” 

“Do what Y/N? save lives, we were so fucking good at it. You were good at it.” You can hear the resolve in his voice, the way he was ready to keep going at you till you broke. 

“This, Me and You. Ari, we are so… destructive together. You hit me like a ton of fucking bricks, and I’m left shattered every fucking time. It took me a year to get over you the last time I saw you. Your just��� you’re not good for me.” You start taking care of supplies, and you can feel him coming behind you, letting his hands rest against your hips. 

“It wasn’t easy for me either, but I had to go back, you didn’t want to.” He said softly, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder and you shuddered in his hold. “It will be different.” 

Lies, Ari was the master at them, and the fool you were, you just went along every fucking time. 

Colin laid there the next morning, the slight bit of stubble already making its way across his chin, and his sleepy moan made him open his blues, looking right at you. “Morning Babygirl.” 

“Morning Colin,” You bite back a grin and he reached over, circling around your hip and bringing you in closer to his warmth. You nuzzle right into him, and he starts giving you lazy morning kisses, sighing in satisfaction against your lips. 

“Your so beautiful first thing in the morning. I want to wake up like this forever.” 

You had just finished treating his wounds, nothing serious thank god. But still, every time he came back from a mission, his beautiful features marred with bruises. 

Ugh, it hurt to see. You tried to hide it, but he noticed the clipped quiet way you were afterward, and when you walked by him again, he grasped your wrist and pulled you into his lap. 

“Hey Doll.” He would press his lips against your temple and cuddle you into his chest. “Thank you.” 

“Your welcome Steve.” You would whisper back and tilt your head to lean against his and he would rub your back. 

“Can I get a kiss from my best girl.” His blue eyes hopeful, and you would smile softly, nodding as he would cup your face, and draw you into a slow welcome home kiss. 

Cause that’s that you were, his home. He would fight to always get back to his Best Girl. 

It had been a long day, Mary had tooth and nail wanting to bring Fred into school today, and he had to explain to her a hundred times that although it was show and tell day, the cat wouldn’t appreciate spending the day in an unfamiliar place. 

He finally managed to convince her to bring a set of her favorite legos instead. 

Then in the boatyard, he was commissioned to fix what the man had called his dreamboat. It was a pile of rusted junk. Frank looked at it and immediately felt his temple pound, this job was a lot more then he would normally do, and the man wanted it done in five weeks. Well hell this was at least a six-week job. But it was good money. He agreed to do it. 

Then you called. His love, his girl, his unknown factor in life. Normally he wouldn’t date, not while he had Mary. But you somehow stayed around. Respecting his need to be with his niece, you normally only came around on weekends until he was sure he was ready to introduce you two. 

You never pushed him, never asked him the question he dreaded. You were just there, Friday’s meeting up with him, and circling your arm around him, leaning up to give him a kiss. “I missed you. Tell me about your week.” 

You made it so fucking easy, he almost didn’t believe that you were real. 

But seeing you come across your complex parking lot, putting your bag into the back of his truck, and climbing in the seat next to him, he reached for your hand. “Y/N, how would you feel… getting to meet Mary?” 

His eyes are nervous but your eyes widened at this, a grin breaking on your face. “Are you sure Frank? I’m not rushing you.” 

“No I mean it, I really want us to take it to the next step. If your ready that is” 

You slid over closer, and ran your hand along his chest, and up to that scruff of his you loved so much. “Frank, I would love to meet Mary, and yes… Yes I would love to see where this goes.” 

You leaned in and shared a kiss with him, sighing into it with a sense of peace that washed over him. 

Better things were coming.