#and I swear to god if one more person tells me it’ll get better eventually I’ll hit someone

[laughinglynx]

.

[puppiesandnightlock]

Link to Ao3: A Robin's Song

Summary: Since diapers, Jon and Damian have been best friends. Accidentally encouraging jon to go ask out a girl, damian must now deal with the consequences of pushing his what he thinks are unrequited feelings down. He turns to music to vent, posting under an anonymous online username "Robin".

What he was not expecting, was for the music to blow up, leaving him internet famous, and his feelings out in the open.

and Jon is completely clueless.

A/N: THIS IS A REVERSE ROBINS AU AGES R: Damian is 17 Duke is 16 Tim is 14 Steph is 13 ½ Cass is 12 Jason 10 ¾ Dick is 5 Jon is 18 Kon is 14 Bart is 13 Wally(will be mentioned eventually) is 5 Roy(also will b mentioned eventually) is 11

Based on this post by @jaybirbie

December 3, five weeks before.

“Can’t believe you, Mr. Jonathan-its-under-fifty-degrees-please-wear-a-jacket, didn’t wear the biggest coat you could find today.” Jon snorted, rifling through his closet.

Damian’s bronze skin was dusted with a pretty pink as he scowled, a knitted green sweater and black skinny jeans his only defense against the cold.

“It’s a weekend, Jon, I had no intention to go out, and I let Duke take the big jacket because he was going out with friends.” 

Jon hummed sympathetically before pulling out the next sweater he had, his letterman.

“Try this on, Dames.” 

“I don’t think it’ll be that warm.” Damian eyed it skeptically. Jon gave him a look, and he scoffed, shrugging it on anyway. 

“Looks better on you than me.” Jon cackled, snapping a quick picture.

The sleeves went past his hands, the jacket going down to his mid-thigh. Damian was drowning in a sea of warm fabric, and for a moment he was lost, inhaling deeply and smelling the fabric softener Jon’s mom used, a hint of the cologne he stole from his father, and a smell that was utterly Jon. Just Jon. His best friend, and definitely nothing more. Never…anything more.

“Dami?” Jon croaked nervously, silence taking over the room.

Damian snapped out of his little dream world and flushed red, scrambling to take it off and hand it back. “Way too big.” 

“Is it normal for you to smell clothing?”  Jon raised an eyebrow, was that a small, miniscule burst of pink on his cheeks?

No, stop messing with your own emotions, Damian.

Damian turned his nose up and scowled. “Yes, when was the last time you washed that thing?”

“Hey! It’s clean, thank you!” Jon shot back indignantly, but not before sniffing it quickly, just to make sure.

His friend snorted, before putting on the light jacket he’d brought over his knitted sweater. 

“We can just stay home and watch tv or something,” he offered. 

“Should I put on Glee?” 

“I’ll grab some cocoa.”

Five weeks after.

“What a sight for sore eyes.” Jon sighed, slumping against his locker. Damian looked up, shutting his as he grabbed his books. 

“Your locker?”

Jon let out a breathy chuckle. “No. Her .” 

He followed his gaze to a girl walking down the hall, laughing with a group of girls. Some wore a cheerleading outfit, but she wore a skirt with leggings, white shirt, and a low cardigan. Her skirt and sweater were varying shades of blue, and when she opened her eyes, one could see her eyes were as well. 

Thick pieces of brown hair fell to her hips, two long layers framing her face, slightly shorter bangs parted in the middle of her forehead.

And with one glance, he could already tell. Jon was utterly enamored with her.

“What’s her name?” Damian asked quietly.

“Haisley. She’s one of the cheerleaders, and god, her voice when she sings. Angels, Damian, I swear to you she’s what angels sound like.”

Every word out of Jon’s mouth was ripping him to shreds and he fought the sudden urge to scream. Instead he swallowed hard, spitting out words like they had done him personal harm.

“You should go talk to her.” 

Stop, Damian, don't do this to yourself.

“I’m sure you’ll get on very well, she looks sweet.”

Jon went pale. “Oh, God, she’s coming this way! Damian, what if I screw up?”

“Jon, it's a simple greeting. Say hi, I’m Jon, I’ve seen you around, then blah blah, say something charming. You’re good at that.”

He said it so dismissively, it nearly convinced himself that he didn't actually care. His taller friend inhaled sharply before meeting her halfway. Before he made it to her, she was tripped by something, and dropped her books. Being the good boy he was raised to be, he rushed over to help. 

Damian winced as Jon said something to make her laugh, his pale complexion flushing crimson at the sound.

Fighting off the stupid emotions, he kept his head down and sped out of the hallway. 

What had he done?

Present day.

Third wheel again. 

It was lunch, and instead of the usual eating under the big oak in the courtyard of their high school, Damian was stuck between Haisley and Jon, trying not to scowl as they chattered and flirted. 

It was disgusting, frankly, and never failed to make his appetite disappear. 

He had long since stopped trying to join their conversations, always drowned out by the “we’re-not-together-yet-Dames” couple.

“I’m just going to throw my tray away.” He called loudly over their talking, the only acknowledgement that he received was a thumbs up from Jon and a sweet smile thrown his way by Haisley.

Never one to waste food, he tucked the remaining packaged snacks and apple in his backpack before returning.

Before he made it to the table, he saw Jon draping his letterman over Haisley. The same one he’d been given on that cold day. Bile rose in his throat as he saw her lean her head tentatively on his shoulder, watching as Jon grew flustered, and just as hesitantly, wrapped an arm around her.

Damian suddenly felt as if he’d stumbled across something private, and hastily turned and walked away.

The walk turned into a run, and suddenly he was in the library, holed up in a corner as he cursed the sniffles he got.

This is hardly something to cry over , he scolded himself. I knew it was never going to happen.

He stayed in the little corner until the bell had rung, sketches of characters that didn't exist pouring over his sketchbook.

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

Walking home had always been something held to high regard for Damian these last few weeks since Haisley arrived. The only time he could have Jon to himself like he used to. These moments were treasured now, more than ever.

“Where’d you go at lunch, Dami?” Jon asked, strolling along the sidewalk.

“The library. There was a book I wanted to check out.” He said smoothly.

“Where is it then?”

“Oh, they didn't have it, so I had to put it on hold. I must have gotten distracted looking at the other ones.”

Yes, he had precrafted a story or five to tell.

“Did I miss anything important?”

“No, not really.” Jon let out a whoosh of air. “Just that I may actually be falling in love with Haisley.”

Hurt struck him like glass daggers to his heart, but years over playing games with his brothers had ensured he had an absolutely stellar poker face.

His mask of indifference washed over him as he responded with a tremor to his tone.

“Is that so? What makes you think that?”

“Gosh, she’s so pretty, for one.”

Damian’s stomach twisted, and he spoke. “So, is it just physical? That’s not love, Jon, that’s a crush.” 

“Wha-? No, I'm not done. She’s sweet, kind, and funny. She can actually have a snarky side if you hang around her enough. She has a good heart, and I know my parents would approve. Besides, do I gotta mention all the other stuff? The way her eyes get all squinty when she laughs,  her smile, all the blue. I look good in blue, don’t I? We could match~”

Jon continued gushing and at the corner, Damian clapped him on the shoulder and declared with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes that he was happy for him.

“You sure, D? You don’t look too excited.” Jon seemed worried.

“Course, J, I only want you to be happy. If you're happy, I'm happy. Just…this won’t come between us, right?”

He would die before he let their friendship burn, even if that meant he had to keep his distance.

“Never. You're my best friend, Damian. We’ll always be like this won’t we? Forever?”

“Yeah. Forever.” Damian swallowed the lump that formed in his throat and breathed a sigh of relief as he hit the row of small houses. 

“My stop. See you tomorrow.”

Before he could hear the response, he scurried away and across the street to the little tired house on the corner.

He unlocked the door and shut it behind him, slumping against it. The inside of the house was warm and cozy, the smell of cooking food making it homey.

When he opened his eyes, he could see his oldest younger brother, Duke, in the kitchen, the old yellow apron they had tied around his waist.

“You okay, Dames?” Duke set the pan down and lowered the fire, moving to help him up.

“Peachy.” He responded, letting himself be pulled upwards.

He hung up his coat and backpack and tried a smile, which Duke returned sympathetically.

Marching into his room, he starfished across his small bed and screeched into the pillow.

“✨Anger issues✨” Was hummed from above him.

Grumbling, Damian launched his pillow towards the person, his mood lifted slightly as he heard an “oof-” as the pillow hit his target.

“My dear menace to society.” Damian grinned as the pillow was thrown back and a black haired head popped up from the top bunk of the bunkbeds next to him.

“How was imprisonment for you today?” 

“Fine, fine, I won't bore you with details .” The teen waved his hand dismissively, before raising an eyebrow.

“How was your day, is the question we should all be asking if you came in here and tried to summon a demon with those screams.”

“And summon a demon, I did.” Damian gestured upwards to his little brother. 

“Asshole.” 

“Swear Jar.”

A quarter was thrown at his face.

“I’m serious, I'm fairly certain you and Duke are the ones who pay like half the bills from just the jar.”

“Shut up.” Tim stuck his tongue out, Damian returning the gesture. 

“Kon told me Jon got a girlfriend.” His tone softened. “Are you okay?” 

The crush was well known between the three oldest brothers and Cass, and it was often used as a teasing device, if not them actually trying to convince Damian to say something. 

“Fine. And they’re not together yet, tell Connor to get his facts right.” he waved off his brother’s concerns.

Tim looked at him, seeing directly past the lie, however, knowing better, he kept his mouth shut.

“You should write,” He said instead. ”Healthy venting.”

“You’re one to talk.”

Nonetheless, Damian followed his advice and took out a writing pad, proceeding to stare at the blank page for the next half hour until his youngest siblings and father arrived home, much like the author of this fic.

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

After dinner, everyone lounged around the living room, chattering and doing activities with each other.

Dick bounced onto the couch next to Damian and turned on the biggest puppy eyes he could muster. 

“Dami?”

“Dickiebird?”

“Will you play for us?”

Damian inhaled sharply. It had been awhile since he’d touched his guitar, but it still remained one of his younger brothers favorite pastimes.

“I’m a little rusty, but I suppose it wouldn't hurt to try.”

He went and grabbed it, repositioning himself back on the couch. His siblings paused in their activities to watch.

Hesitantly he tunes and strums, before playing around with some notes. Finding he quite liked the pattern, he continued with the slow melody, switching it up and returning it.

“I’ve never heard this song before.” Steph turned her head to the side, pausing in painting Cass’s nails. 

Jason bookmarked the page in his book and tore a page from one of Damian’s sketchbooks, coming to sit in front of Damian. 

“Can you play that again? It was really pretty.” 

He repeated it, again and again until the tune swirled around the house, bringing everyone into the song.

The kids had made a small circle around the couch, Bruce putting down his newspaper in favor of listening to his eldest.

There was nothing in his heart that spoke of pain and longing, all poured into the melancholy melody surrounding them.

When he came back to the present, the paper Jason had torn was covered in little scribbles. 

Music notes.

“Timmy helped, but these were the ones that we got, so that you can play that again sometime.”

“Please play it again!” Dick chirped.

“ Very beautiful.” Cass agreed out loud, trying to sign, but stopped by the wet paint on her nails.

“You should write lyrics!” Duke suggested. “I can help!” 

The rest of the evening was spent curled in the living room, Damian writing furiously and Duke helping him make things flow, Tim leaning over occasionally and remarking how similar they sounded to Damian's own predicament.

Damian was subjected to yet another day watching “Jaisley” as Tim and his group of friends, Duke, and if he was honest, he called it that as well, pine after each other.

If he had to hear the words “She’s an angel, D.” in a lovestruck tone one more time, his father would have to pick him up at the local police station for arson and vandalism.

Luckily, his savior came in the form of one Duke Wayne, who magically showed up almost every time Damian was on the brink. Today was his full school day, so he walked with Jon and Damian back home, wincing everytime Jon opened his mouth to gush about Haisley.

“Well, fuck.” Duke muttered as they walked into the house, dropping a quarter into the large jar as they did. 

“It’s bad.” Damian sighed. “It’s fine, it’s fine. I can sweep this under the rug, it’ll be fine.”

“Dames-” his brother started, before Tim came barreling through the door.

“Bye guys!” He screamed from the porch, two boys and a girl waving back at him.

Shutting the door, he turned to his older brothers. “We gonna record?”

Damian crossed his arms, staring up at his taller (only by a few inches!) little brother. 

“Wonderful idea, Timothy.”

He stalked towards the room, overhearing Tim whisper to Duke. “ He called me Timothy, was it really that bad?”

“Worse, dude. Wayyyy worse.”

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

Damian was wearing an oversized black hoodie with yellow lining, a dark green domino mask from an old halloween costume, and had left his hair out in a way rendered mostly unrecognizable to most of his school peers. 

Tim screwed around with the beat-up old laptop they’d salvaged awhile back, and a suspiciously high-quality recording mic. 

He would ask where it came from later.

The three brothers threw out some song requests for Damian to warm up, and then began recording. 

After the third take, they stopped.

“Dami, you sound monotone. Like you’re rehearsing a line and we have you at gunpoint behind the camera.”

“Sorry.” Damian flushed. 

Duke spoke up. “This is your song, your story. Try singing it how you feel, like you’re watching them and monologuing internally.”

He chewed his bottom lip, nodding. “Can we try again?”

Tim smiled, counting down. 

This time, he shut his eyes, letting the soft strumming of the guitar take him back to the moment when he felt his heart break for the first time. 

He floated away into the memories of them on the cold December day, to when they saw Haisley for the first time, to just recently listening to the voice he loved to hear pine for someone else. 

The tune flowed around him, lifting him up into the song until he was nearly sobbing with the pain of reliving those painful moments, pouring all he had into the few minutes. 

When he hit the final notes, he let the tears building up catch in the mask, a few stubborn ones slipping past the white out eyes and being hastily scrubbed away as Tim stopped recording. 

The silence was loud, and nervously, Damian spoke up. “Should we retake?”

“That was perfect, Damian.” 

“God, I could have cried. That is how this song was meant to be sung, and I'll be damned if this doesn't blow up by next week.”

“SWEAR JAR!” Tim and Damian chorused. 

“I’m giving compliments.” Duke grumbled. 

Tim stuck his tongue out and Damian skimmed the top of his guitar with his fingers gently. 

“I…I don't think I want it to blow up too much. These are my feelings, and to be honest I wouldn't be surprised if they find out it's me just by the words.”

“I guess.” Tim shrugged, going over the footage in his computer, and tweaking with the picture and turning the sound up over the videos, adding subtitles with the lyrics.

“Your old profile pic is that symbol you drew a few years ago. Do you wanna keep it?”

It was a bubble letter R in dark colors of green and red, a hint of yellow making it pop. Damian studied it before nodding. 

“Yes. I'd like to keep it.”

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

They had played the song after dinner, the family applauding at the end. Tim posted it online with everyone onlooking, and although Damian claimed he didn’t care much about any of it, he sent the link to Kon, and asked him to pass it along to his older brother.

And if he hacked into a few accounts to put the link in their recommendations, who would know but him? 

…And the FBI agent that Bernard from across the street told him was watching the computer, despite using a VPN.

It was for a good cause anyways.

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

BIG HUGE THANKS TO MY AMAZING BETA READERS FOR THIS CHATPER @robbed-ghost and @redasuree !!!!!!!!!!!

[beestriker015]

Loving and protective Black Widow x male s/o

S/o is Natasha’s husband, whom she met several years ago when he joined the Avengers.

After introducing himself to his new teammates, s/o quickly caught the attention of Black Widow, who was instantly charmed by his kind smile and upbeat personality.

As time went on since s/o first joined the team, Natasha began falling in love with him, eventually gathering the nerve to ask him out after some encouragement from the others.

“Hey s/o…I l-like you. Would you want to…m-maybe…go out with me?”

Much to her surprise and glee, s/o accepted with a happy smile plastered on his face.

“Of course Nat, I’d love to go out with you! I’ve actually wanted to ask you out myself for a while now.”

And with that, Natasha and s/o began dating.

Natasha is very lovey dovey with her boyfriend, much to the shock and surprise of her teammates.

Physical contact and general displays of affection is constant, oftentimes to the chagrin of the other Avengers.

“Jeez, why don’t you two lovebirds just go get a room already?.”

Tony says in annoyance at the sight of s/o and Natasha cuddling on the couch with her arm wrapped around her boyfriend’s shoulder.

“Oh shut it Tony. He’s my boyfriend and we can do whatever we want!”

Natasha says with a glare, making Tony walk away feeling a little intimidated.

As loving as she is of s/o, Natasha is also very protective of him and their relationship.

If anyone were to make any remarks about s/o or his and Natasha’s relationship, she will go up to them and force them to apologize through means of intimidation.

Should s/o ever get hurt, his girlfriend will rush to his side as fast as humanly possible and care for him as a mother would her child.

“Calm down Nat. It’s just a bullet wound, it’ll get better.”

S/o says with a pained voice as Natasha disinfects his wound.

“You got shot! How can you be so nonchalant about this babe?! I swear when I find whoever shot you, I’m gonna-”

She’s cut off by s/o, who quickly quiets her by gently kissing her on the cheek.

“Babe, I know how protective of me you can get, especially whenever I get hurt, but I’m ok. Please try to calm down Nat, I hate seeing that beautiful face of yours so angry.”

He says with a sweet little smile that makes Natasha’s heart melt.

“A-alright s/o, a-anything for you.”

She says while incredibly flustered by her boyfriend’s words.

“I love you Natasha, and I love how protective you are of me.”

S/o says as his girlfriend finishes taking care of his wounds.

Natasha looks at her boyfriend with wide eyes before pulling him into a passionate kiss.

When they separate for air, she stares lovingly into s/o’s eyes with a smile.

“I love you too s/o.”

Eventually, after over a year of dating, s/o decided it was time to pop the question to Natasha after spending a romantic evening together.

“Natasha, I love you more than anyone or anything in the whole universe. Being with you has made me the happiest guy alive, and I’d love nothing more than to be with you forever.”

He gets down on one knee and pulls out the ring.

“Natasha Romanoff, will you marry me?”

Without a single shred of hesitation, Natasha smiled widely and accepted s/o’s proposal with happy tears in her eyes.

Now if Natasha was protective of s/o when they were dating, she is really protective of him now that they’re married.

It is mandatory that she goes with s/o whenever he has a mission, and nobody can tell her otherwise.

God help any villain or criminal who hurts her husband in any way, as although she may not have superpowers, Natasha can still kick some serious ass.

After every mission, cuddle sessions are a must, which can sometimes leads to more…intimate moments between Natasha and s/o.

One time, the other Avengers saw s/o exit his and Natasha’s shared room with messy hair and a huge hickey on his neck.

S/o turned to see his teammates all staring at him weirdly.

“What?”

He asks with a raised eyebrow.

“Looks like somebody got some action last night. That’s a nice love bite you’ve got there s/o.”

Clint says with a laugh and a smirk.

Realization hits as s/o blushes from embarrassment.

The others laugh and snicker as well, but are soon silenced by a glare coming from Natasha, who is suddenly standing behind her husband.

S/o smiles and turns around, pulling his wife into a hug.

“Good morning Nat.”

She returns his smile and hugs him back.

“Good morning to you too s/o, I love you.”

S/o smiles and gives his wife her morning kiss.

“I love you too Nat.”

Even though Natasha can be extremely protective of her husband, s/o enjoys it and loves her just as much as she does him.

[helliontherapscallion]

(Y/n) and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Week: Thursday (Part 1)

Monday     Tuesday     Wednesday     Thursday (Part 2)     Friday     Saturday     Sunday

Spotify Playlist (collaborative)

Warnings: swearing, homophobia (f slurs and d slur), panic attacks, toxic friends, mentions of attempted suicide/getting told to kill yourself

Word count: 6,377

(A/N): ok, so I definitely got carried away with this, so I had to split Thursday into two parts. If I kept it in one part, it’d probs be like 10k-11k words long lmao

You woke up feeling strangely more refreshed than usual. Glancing at your clock, you saw that you actually woke up about thirty minutes before your alarm went off. You got a whopping twelve hours of sleep, a stark contrast from your recent sleep schedule consisting of no more than four hours a night. You felt like you could rule the world with how much energy you had. Sure, you felt anxiety pooling in your stomach like you usually did and you had a terrible dream about Haley rejecting you and getting completely outed to the entire school, but that did not stop you from throwing your covers off your bed and walking down the hall to the kitchen with the most confidence you’ve had since starting high school.

When you got to the kitchen, you saw a dead looking Uncle Schlatt slumped at the table chugging coffee and a chipper Philza trying to make conversation. Usually, you would’ve joined Schlatt in being dead inside, but today was different. You were filled to the brim with energy that you haven’t had in years. As you walked through the door, their heads turned towards you.

“Mornin Dad, mornin Uncle Schlatt!”

Your uncle merely grunted before going back to guzzling down his coffee. Your dad smiled at you, “well, looks like someone’s well rested.”

“Yeah, I got like twelve hours of sleep last night.”

“Glad to hear it, hun. You really needed it.”

“Glad to hear someone’s feeling well rested,” your uncle grumbled into his coffee. 

“Schlatt, don’t be such a downer all the time,” Philza rolled his eyes at your uncle. 

“Fuck you Phil, I’m a ball of fuckin sunshine. Ain’t that right, sweetheart?” 

“Yeah, Dad, I don’t know what you’re talkin about. Uncle Schlatt’s the heart and soul of this house. Even if he doesn’t live here.”

Schlatt gave a booming laugh, “suck it Phil. And that, (y/n), is why you’re my favorite niece.”

“At least I’m someone’s- wait. I’m your only niece.”

“Still my favorite niece!”

You grinned happily, that was better than nothing. “Love ya, Uncle Schlatt!”

Your uncle’s cocky grin turned more sincere and he diverted his full attention to you, “love ya too, kid.”

“Love each other quieter, you woke me up.” Wilbur’s tired voice complained as he walked into the room and slumped into his chair next to Schlatt. Schlatt clapped a hand onto his shoulder and rustled his hair.

“My man! How’s Sally, huh?”

Wilbur flushed red and started sputtering as Philza turned his confused gaze to his son. “Who’s Sally, Wilbur?”

You couldn’t leave your brother high and dry when he accepted you for being yourself so readily yesterday, so you quickly jumped in for him. “Sally’s just one of his friends at school. They’re job shadowing together for their project. Right, Wilbur?” You turned towards the flustered man with a somewhat forced smile and raised eyebrows. He looked at you with immense relief and nodded vigorously, his hair flopping onto his forehead. 

“Yes! We’re planning on job shadowing our band director, he said that it’d be a good idea if we want to major in music.” 

“Oh, why didn’t you tell me about her before! You should invite her over for dinner, I’d love to meet her!” Oh, your dad did not buy your terrible excuse for Wilbur, that man is like a bloodhound when it comes to sniffing out lies. Poor, poor Wilbur. 

Despite the blush remaining on his cheeks, Wilbur seemed to think that Philza actually bought his weak excuse. “I’ll invite her over soon. Does Friday night next week work?”

Philza grinned cheekily, “yes! I can’t believe you haven’t brought her over sooner if you’re close enough to job shadow with her!”

At this point, Schlatt’s face was cherry red with his almost failed attempt to hold in his laughter. “I’m not missin this. Me an’ Tubbs are comin over next Friday.” 

Wilbur still hasn’t noticed that they hadn’t bought it, you thought he was more perceptive than that. Eventually, Philza started to make breakfast and conversation lulled into a comfortable silence as everybody waited for Techno, Tommy, and Tubbo. Deciding to pull out your phone, you scrolled through your notifi- wait. Why did you have forty-two messages from Adrian and Sammy? Why did they make a groupchat with everyone except Annie? Furrowing your brows in confusion, you opened the group chat. What you read made your breathing catch in your chest and your skin blanch, it wasn’t a dream. Everything was real.

Sammy <3

(y/n) you fucking pervert

How could you do this to us????

Adrian <3

We’ve given you everything and yet you’re still a disgusting person. 

Fucking faggot

We thought we could fix you, but you’re broken

You’re always going to be

Sammy <3

And now, you’re gonna go to hell with all the other dykes and fairies.

It’ll probably be heaven for you, surrounded by perverts like yourself

You’re staying far away from Annie

Adrian <3

You’ve put her through so much shit and now this

We swear to god if you talk to her again we’re gonna make you wish you would’ve gone through with killing yourself freshman year

We’re leaking the pictures slut

You felt your anxiety melt away into betrayal. So they were yours and Haley’s stalkers? How dare they try to leak Haley’s pictures. They could leak yours, you didn’t give a shit if yours were leaked. You could learn to live with it, you always did after all the shit you put yourself through throughout the years, but Haley’s? She didn’t do anything. Even if her rejection was painful, you still deeply cared for her. She didn’t deserve that. You, however, did for not being normal. For making people around you uncomfortable with your presence. 

(Y/n)

That was you guys?????

Why the fuck would you do that

I trusted you 

All of you

Sammy <3

We trusted you too dyke

But you’re a two-faced bitch

And to think we actually thought you were our friend

Were you only friends with Ann and I so you could get into our pants?

I’m disgusted

You’re a fucking pervert.

Adrian <3

We shouldn’t have talked you out of suicide freshman year

You fucking deserve it

Make Annie’s life easier and just swan dive off a roof

You’ll be doing everyone a favor

(Y/n)

Listen, I don’t care if you leak my pictures.

Just don’t leak Haley’s

She has no part in this

I’ll leave you guys alone if you delete Haley’s pictures

Hell, I’ll do anything for you if you could release them after the final volleyball match today

It’s Haley’s time to shine and she deserves the attention as team captain

She’s worked so hard to get there all of high school and leaking my nudes would take the attention away from her

Let her have her moment

Sammy <3

For once she has a point

She probably manipulated the poor girl

Who knows what the fag would’ve done to her if we didn’t expose her

Adrian <3

Fine, we’ll delete Haley’s pictures and we’ll wait until after the game

But we’re leaking yours

You deserve it for what you did to Annie and Haley

“Kid, are you okay? You’re kinda pale over there buddy.”

Looking up from your phone, you saw everybody’s eyes on you. They each looked concerned, but Wilbur even more so. He was the only one in the room at the moment that knew about your panic attacks. He stood up from his spot and walked over to you with long strides.

“She just remembered the homework in stats that we forgot about. Techno asked us in the group chat about it, we were just about to go and see if he could help us.” 

“But Wilbur, I thought you took statistics last year.”

“No, that was algebra two, I’m taking stats this year,” that was a lie, he was in pre-calculus this year. “C’mon (y/n), lets go finish that assignment.” 

He grabbed your shoulder and hauled you into a stand before grabbing your hand and practically dragging you up the stairs and into Techno’s room. Said pink-haired teenager looked up angrily. “What’d I say about kno- (y/n)?”

Wilbur closed the door and locked it behind him. He dragged you over to Techno’s bed and sat you down on the edge before kneeling down to look you in the eyes.

“(Y/n), can I touch you? Is that alright?”

After you shakily nodded, he grabbed your hand and placed it over his chest. “Breathe with me.” Like yesterday, you tried to copy his movements, but it wasn’t working. Your panic attack was just getting worse by the minute. Techno pushed Wilbur aside and took his place kneeling in front of you and grabbing your hand, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles.

“(Y/n), can you tell me five things you can see around the room?”

When you didn’t move your wide eyes away from Techno’s face, he frowned and gently squeezed your hand. “You can get through this. What’re five things you can see around the room?”

You reluctantly tore your eyes away from his face and peered around the room. You hadn’t noticed that your blurred vision had tunneled until you realized that you couldn’t see anything in your peripheral vision. Your unseeing eyes flicked around the room. 

You tried to swallow, but you couldn’t do anything through the lump in your throat. With a shaky voice, you gasped out “I-I can’t breathe. I-”

“Deep breath in through your nose and out through your mouth. Follow me.”

You tried to breathe with him, and you eventually got to the point where you could speak. Your eyes flicked around the room once again and slowly recognized your surroundings. 

“You… Wilbur… Desk… Window…”

“That’s good, just one more.”

Your eyes flicked around the room, “...Book.”

“Look back at me, you’re doing so good,” when you looked back at him, he had a small smile on his face. “Nice job. Now, four things you can feel. Can you do that for me?”

You shakily nodded and looked at your hands and around your surroundings. “Bed… Pants… You… Carpet.”

“Three things you can hear?”

“You… Birds… Breathing.”

“You’re almost there, I’m so proud of you. Two things you can smell?”

“Toast and… and burning?”

Despite his confusion about the sudden burning smell, he continued to smile at you. “Good, last one. One thing you can taste?”

You licked your lips before scrunching your nose slightly, “...snot.”

“Wilbur, can you go get her a few kleenexes and a glass of water?” Techno asked his brother without taking his eyes off you.

Wordlessly, he swiftly left the room. “Are you feeling better?”

You panted as you reached up to rub at your teary eyes, “yeah, how’d you know what to do?”

His smile turned slightly bashful, “I did some research last night. I’m glad I did, that was a bad panic attack. Can I- can I ask what caused it?”

You pulled out your phone and handed it to him, letting him scroll through the messages while you brought up your knees to your chest and rested your chin on your knees. You felt tired after that attack, however you had a little bit more energy than you usually did. Only a little bit more. It was probably because you slept for half the day and through the night yesterday. You watched your brother scroll through your texts with tired eyes. 

He was emotionless as he scrolled, making you somewhat scared about what his reaction would be. He probably hasn’t gotten to the whole “go kill yourself” or the stalking parts. Judging by his set jaw and labored breathing, he was pissed already and he didn’t even get to the bad parts yet.

In the middle of his scrolling, Wilbur came back with a box of tissues, a glass of water, and a plate of bacon, eggs, and toast. When you hardly moved to grab them, he sat on the bed beside you and handed you a tissue. After cleaning up, you took the glass of water and started to slowly sip at it. “Thanks, Wil.” 

He wrapped an arm around you and pulled you close to him. When he looked over Techno’s shoulder at your phone, you saw his eyebrows furrow. “Tech, what’s-”

He was interrupted as Techno shoved your phone into his hands and stood up to start pacing around his room. “Read it yourself.” He sounded more monotone than usual. He was absolutely furious.

You watched Wilbur’s face as he read through your messages. Unlike Technoblade, he looked furious. His eyes were set ablaze as his entire face turned an angry red. “(Y/n), what the absolute fuck? Why didn’t you tell us this was happening?”

Shrinking in on yourself and pulling your knees closer to your chest, you murmured out a small “sorry.” You saw him quickly turn his head to you as his face softened. He pulled you into a full hug.

“This isn’t your fault. None of it is, it’s all their fault,” he spat with disgust. “How’d they even get your nudes? Did you send them to anyone?”

You leaned your head against his shoulder, “that’s the thing, Wil. I’ve never taken nudes before. They took them through my window. I deserve it.”

You felt him freeze up and heard Techno pause his pacing to stomp over to you. He tore Wilbur’s arms off from you and held you out at arms length by your shoulders. He looked the most angry than you’ve ever seen him with his furious eyes burning into your own and his mouth set in a firm frown. It was terrifying to see him that angry.

“(Y/n), you don’t deserve a single fucking thing that’s happened to you. You were manipulated and gaslit by a group of self righteous assholes. You. Do. Not. Deserve. Anything. That. Happened. To. You. Do you understand me?” 

Despite your fears of him, you were determined to protect your friends. “But I do deserve it though. I was a bad friend to them. I tried so hard, but I couldn’t be a good friend to them when they were always helping me. I’m just not a good person in general. I deserve it for not being normal.”

“(Y/n)-”

“Technoblade, that’s enough.” Wilbur cut him off with a firm tone, putting a comforting hand on your arm.

“No it isn’t Wilbur. It’s not enough until she realizes how fucking toxic they are. What they’re doing is gaslighting. You’re in a psychology class, you should know what that is. Give me the definition of it. Now.”

“It’s when someone manipulates another person for their own personal gain… I’d know if I’m being gaslit, and I’m not. They’re just telling me the truth, they keep me in check. I could put more effort into my appearance and personality. I could stand to lose a couple of pounds.” “How do you not- ya know what? Listen. Just listen. That’s the definition of being gaslit. They’re constantly putting you down and making you self conscious about every. Little. Thing because they need to put someone down to fuel their own damaged egos and they laugh at you when you show that you’re hurt by their comments. That’s not a healthy friendship, (y/n). It’s toxic. 

“Real friends would never, and I mean never, do that to you. Real friends would never tell you that you looked like shit when you’re as beautiful as Aphrodite. Real friends would never out you to the entire school when you weren’t ready. Real friends would never tell you to lose weight because they wouldn’t care about what you look like. Real friends care about your well being and they look out for you. They love you for you.”

You fell silent as you contemplated his words. Were they really that toxic? You were planning on being a psychology major in college, so why didn’t you notice that they were actually always against you? You learned in your class that manipulative people are naturally cunning and sneaky, but you couldn’t help but feel stupid. You thought that they were helping you when they were clearly toxic. It was right under your nose and you didn’t even see the signs. What kind of psychology student were you if you couldn’t recognize the obvious signs of manipulation? 

On one hand, you were filled with betrayal. But on the other hand, you felt molten hot anger overwhelm and swirl around your entire body like a cyclone absolutely decimating everything in its path with its violent winds hurling in a blind rage anything and everything without a care of the outcome. You felt the burning hatred of a thousand suns rise up from deep within your being, filling you with a hatred that you didn’t know you were capable of. 

They fucked up your entire life, not you. They were the ones with the ugly personalities, not you. They were the ones that needed to improve themselves, not you. They were bad friends, not you. They laughed at the pain they brought upon you purposefully. They completely humiliated you. They betrayed your trust. They took pictures of you without your consent. They fucked up your relationship with Haley. They violated Haley. They fucking stole her dignity from her with those disgusting pictures they took of her. They were truly vile creatures undeserving of any mercy. Not that you were actually considering being merciful, that would be too good for them. They deserved everything you were going to throw at them. You were going to rise like a phoenix from the ashes of your past self. 

You felt yourself practically vibrate with fury as you held Technoblade’s intense gaze with one of your own. “Those bastards fucking used me for years. Literal years and I thought they were there for me,” you gave a sardonic laugh, your voice shaking with anger. “I-I’m gonna fuckin kill them the next time I see their sorry asses. Make them feel what it’s like to get tossed out of a car. Make them feel what it’s like to constantly get beaten down.”

Techno’s hands gripped your shoulders in a vice grip as his eyes sparked with a crazed delight and he grinned widely at you, “that’s the spirit! You’re gonna rain hellfire upon them, beat their asses (y/n)! Fuck em up! FUCK! EM! UP!”

Wilbur, always thinking about potential consequences and the voice of reason, spoke up with hesitance. “As much as I love that you’re finally realizing that they’re toxic as hell and want revenge, you’d have to wait at least until tomorrow. If you did it today, you wouldn’t be allowed to go to finals. Besides, I don’t think that you should even fight them. You would be out- wait. They’re the ones that opened the car door and fucked up your back?” Seeing you nod, his face darkened in anger. “...(Y/n), you’re gonna fuck em up as soon as you can tomorrow. We’ll back you up if they try to gang up on you, we aren’t eighteen yet, so it’s still legal. ”

“YES, SUCCUMB TO THE ANARCHY! WE’RE GONNA FUCK EM UP!”

“YOU ARE NOT FUCKING ANYONE UP ANYTIME SOON, TECHNOBLADE.” Philza’s voice boomed from behind the closed door. Said door swung open to reveal your father’s angry form and your uncle’s intrigued, slightly proud form.

You three stared at the two for a while with gaping mouths, your previous intensity substantially diminuendos into a quiet shock. No one fucks with an angry Dadza. Techno was the quickest to get over the shock. “...How long were you standing there?”

Your father sneered. “Well, long enough to hear that you three are going to fight someone! Why the hell would you do that?” 

Your brothers looked at you in a silent question. Shaking your head, you answered in a small voice, “there’s just some people messing with me at school. They were just worried about me. We weren’t gonna actually fight someone, they were just talking about how it’d be nice to get some revenge for me. I was just about to tell them that I could handle myself and we didn’t need to fight.”

Immediately, your dad’s stiff stance relaxed slightly as his eyes pierced into your own, searching them to see if you’re lying to him or not. You felt a cold sweat drip down the back of your head at the intensity of his gaze, you hated when he did that. It always made you feel like he was staring right at your soul. Eventually, his gaze softened.

“Why didn’t you tell me? I could’ve helped you through it.”

“I didn’t want to bother you. Plus, it’s nothing I can’t handle by myself.”

“But you looked really panicked earlier hun. Are you sure you can-”

“I just forgot about my stats homework until this morning and I thought I wouldn’t be able to get it done in time, but I did! No worries,” you spoke a little faster than usual. You prayed that he wouldn’t see through your lie. 

“...Alright. Just let me know if it gets to be too much for you and I can talk with your principal about it. Now go eat something and get ready, you only have,” he glanced at the clock on the wall, “an hour before you have to be at school. Hurry up or you’re going to be late.”

Your dad turned around and walked down the hallway away from the room. Schlatt, however, loomed in the doorway for a while before he came into the room and closed the door behind him. You three watched him warily as he eyed you and your brothers.

“...Ya know, I approve,” after seeing your confused looks, he chuckled and spoke again. “I approve of you three fuckin em up. I heard part of your conversation, and those snot nosed brats deserve it for what they did to my favorite niece.”

You three stared at him with shock, making him laugh at you. “Close your mouths, you’re gonna catch flies.” He paused for a second before leaning towards you and whispering “now, you didn’t hear it from me, but the key to a good punch is following through with it. Don’t hesitate. Don’t tuck your thumb in, that’ll break it. Make sure you center your hit on your index and middle fingers, they are the strongest points of the hand. If you need to, go for the eyes, nose, and groin.”

“I-thank you Uncle Schlatt. I really appreciate it. Just- please don’t tell dad?”

“Of course not! I mean, if you don’t fuck em up enough I will. (Y/n), when you’re done, I want details.”

You saluted sarcastically, “yessir, will do!”

He gave a boisterous laugh, “you better. Now go get ready.” 

As he was about to walk out of the room, he suddenly paused and his hand shot to his pants pocket. He pulled something out before putting it into your hand and turning again to walk out of the room. “This is from Tubbo and Tommy. They were worried about you.” In your hand laid three of your favorite candies. You felt your heart swell at their innocent, caring natures. They were honestly some of the sweetest kids you’ve ever met. 

“Well boys, you get first pics!” You held out the candy to them.

Wilbur looked at you with knitted eyebrows, “but they gave those to you.”

“I wouldn’t have gotten through that panic attack without you guys helping me, so take this as a temporary thank you.” You watched as they glanced at each other before reaching out to grab a piece of candy.

“Alright, I’m gonna go get ready, you guys can take the bathroom before me. Love you guys!”

You went into your room and made sure your curtains were closed before turning to your closet. Humming in thought, you picked out a white button up and the nicest sweater you owned. You put on the collared button up then slipped the sweater on over it so that the collar poked out of the neck. You smiled at yourself in the mirror, feeling more confident in yourself than you’ve felt since you started hanging out with them. Fuck them, they always lied to you. You looked great in anything you put on. You felt elated and basked in the spectacular feeling of being able to like what you wore. 

While you waited for your brothers to leave the bathroom, you pulled out your phone and scrolled through your contacts before you stopped on one: Haley’s. The girl that stole your heart and relentlessly stomped on it until it was a red puddle at her feet. Despite the pain, you still loved her. She was your everything. Your thumb hovered over her icon, contemplating on texting her. You had to tell her that she didn’t have to worry about her pictures anymore. 

(Y/n)

Haley

I know you don’t want to talk to me, but I have good news

You don’t have to worry about your pics anymore

I took care of it.

You don’t have to reply to this

Just know that I took care of it and you don’t have to worry about it anymore.

You sat on your bed staring at your phone screen waiting for her to open your messages. You stared at the ‘delivered’ icon at the bottom of your message, waiting for it to say ‘read’. You stared for about ten minutes before you gave up, putting your phone in your pocket and standing up with a sigh. She would see it eventually. Just as you reached your door, you felt a vibration in your pocket. You whipped out your phone and smiled at Haley’s face on your screen. She was calling you. 

Taking a deep breath to calm yourself down, you clicked the answer button, “hey Hales.”

“(Y/n), what’d you do?”

“I took care of it. That’s all you have to know.”

“I think I should know more. What’d you do?”

You paused for a moment before you hesitantly said, “I asked them to delete your pictures and they have to, it’s part of our deal.”

“...You found out who they were?”

“Yeah, but that’s not important. You don’t have to worry about it.”

“(Y/n), don’t tell me what to worry about. Who are they?”

“...Fine, it was Adrian Schnieder, Annie Lockhart, and Sammy McConnor. Ya know, you’re scary when you’re mad Hales. Remind me not to get on your bad side again.”

“It was them? You hang out around them all the time, I thought you were good friends. Why would they do that?”

Even though she couldn’t see you, you shrugged. “I dunno. I think they were just jealous. They’re assholes and I can’t believe I haven’t noticed it a lot sooner. I’m sorry they put you through that, you didn’t deserve what they did to you.”

“God (y/n),” she sighed out, you imagined that she was running a hand through her hair. “I can’t imagine how much that hurt you. You four were really close.”

“I know, but it was a long time coming. Like I said, I should’ve noticed that it was them. They’ve always been toxic as hell.”

“How’d you find out? What happened?”

“Did you hear about what they did to me yesterday?”

“Should I? If you’re not comfortable talking about it, that’s totally okay. You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t wanna.”

“No, it’s fine. You’re gonna hear about it eventually, shit spreads like wildfire at Klinkver. Long story short, they outed me to the entire school and thought that I was only friends with them to get in their pants. They basically told me to kill myself,” you added nonchalantly. “But that’s not the important part about this. They told me that they were the people that took those pictures of you.”

“...(Y/n), how could you say that’s not important! They fucked up your life and all you care about is my pictures? What’d they say they’d do with yours?”

“I asked them to not leak them until after the match tonight so you could have the spotlight. You deserve it after all the hard work you’ve put in to get team captain. Zuri was hard to beat and you deserve the recognition for that.”

You heard her take a deep breath through her nose, “(y/n), for once in your life care about yourself over others. You’re gonna be exposed to the entire school and it bothers me that you’re being so nonchalant about that.”

“They’ve put me through worse. Besides,” you wove a hand in the air, “it’ll all blow over sooner or later when another person gets their nudes leaked. You remember how fast people forgot about Marlene’s nudes when May’s got leaked like a week later.”

“Still, it’s degrading to have people see you like that. No matter how fast they get over it, it doesn’t change the fact that they’ve seen you. You can’t come back from that sweetheart.”

You felt your heart skip a beat at the nickname. Even if she called almost everybody that, you felt special. “I don’t care if people see my boobs, it wasn’t even a clear picture anyways. It was hella blurry.”

Your door swung open for the second time today. There stood Tommy, his eyes peering innocently at you. “Dad wanted me to tell you to hurry up.”

You smiled at him, “thank you buddy. Let him know I’ll be down in a minute. Oh, and thank you for the candy, it really made me happy.”

He beamed brightly before he sprinted down the stairs. “Was that Tommy? Is he gonna be at the match tonight?”

“Of course, he and Tubbo are our team’s mascots after all. They would never miss a game, especially our final match.”

“I can’t wait to see them, but we need to talk about this. It’s more serious than you paint it as. How are you not pissed at those dumbasses? You trusted them and they betrayed you.”

“Oh, believe me I’m furious. Heh, I’m actually kinda shaking right now because of how pissed I am. But for now, I’m just gonna imagine their faces on the ball so I can keep my mind off them until tomorrow.”

“...Please don’t tell me you’re gonna do something stupid tomorrow.”

“I wouldn’t call it stupid per se, they deserve it for what they put you through. It’s more getting justice than being stupid.”

“(Y/n), I swear to god if you start a fight just to get back at them for me, I’m gonna slap you. Think about yourself every once and a while, they put you through so much. If you feel comfortable, you’re gonna tell me everything they did to you tonight on the bus coming home.”

“So we’re gonna sit together?” You tried and failed to stomp the hopeful tone from your voice.

Her laugh sounded angelic in your ear, “of course we are silly, you’re my best friend. I gotta go, my dad’s calling me. I’ll talk to you later!”

“See ya!” When you hung up, you danced around your room with joy. You- no, they- didn’t ruin your friendship with Haley after all! Oh, you felt like your heart was going to burst out of your chest with joy. Even if she didn’t like you like you adored her, you still cherished your friendship. Looking back, Haley and the team always had your back, they genuinely cared about you. They were perhaps the only ones you would fully trust in the future. 

“(Y/N), HURRY UP YOU’RE GONNA BE LATE!” Tommy’s voice outside your door shook you from your happy dance. “Coming!”

You ran to the bathroom and hastily went through your routine. Despite your rushing, you tried your best to look presentable. You were going to prove those snakes wrong, you were beautiful no matter what you wore or how you looked.

After running down the stairs with your bag, your dad stopped you before you could run out the door with your keys. “You look nice today hun.”

“Thanks Dad, I just wanted to dress up a bit for finals today. I’m honestly really pumped to play tonight.”

“That’s good,” he smiled at you before pulling you into a quick hug. “Just take it easy today, you need to save your energy for the match tonight... Listen, I don’t know what happened to you this morning and I don’t know exactly what’s going on in your life right now, but just know that I’m always gonna be here for you. Whether you need help with homework, advice, or if you want me to beat up someone else’s dad for you,” he chuckled, “I’ll do it.” 

You closed your eyes and leaned into his touch, happy with the contact. You two stood in the hall for a moment before he pulled away and told you to leave for school. 

The drive to the school was uneventful with your brothers mainly holding up the conversation. As you pulled into the parking lot, you realized that you needed to catch up on two full days of stats homework.

“Hey Tech?” He hummed, looking over to you.

“Sorry, but would I be able to maybe copy your stats notes from Tuesday?”

“Yeah, I’ll give em to you so you can copy it before school starts. We’d have to go to Mr. Mullins for yesterday’s notes though. We can just ask him about it before school starts.”

As you pulled into a space and moved to leave the car, a hand stopped you. “(Y/n), if any of those two-faced bitches bother you at all, let us know. Don’t deal with this on your own, we’re here for you,” Wilbur said genuinely.

“Yeah, if they say anything bad about you, it’s on sight.”

You laughed, “thanks guys, I’ll let you guys know if they do anything. We gotta get going though if Tech and I wanna get those notes done.”

In the school, you and Techno successfully got your notes done before the first bell rang. The rest of class went by without a hitch with you actually somewhat understanding mostly everything being taught. You even got a question right when you were called on! Turns out not feeling weighed down by toxic people helps a lot with concentration.

The only block you were dreading was the second block. You were sure that if you even glanced at Annie and Adrian, you’d go apeshit on them. Luckily for them, they didn’t show up to class today. They were probably comforting Annie after you “manipulated” her, you thought with an eye roll. Today was just another work day, so you pulled out your laptop and opened Google Docs. You saw Annie’s and Adrian’s unfinished and you were slapped in the face with inspiration. 

They were still expecting you to finish their essays, so you were gonna finish them alright. You were going to completely rewrite their essays all about how they were terrible homophobes and how LGBT+ people are always facing some form of discrimination amongst their peers, complete with attached screenshots of them calling you slurs over text. You’d even write a little note at the beginning that would tell your teacher that they didn’t write this, but they made you write it so you deserved the credit for it. You didn’t care that this would take a while, the satisfaction that you would get would be worth it. This was going to completely screw up their grades, this essay was worth twenty five percent of your overall grade. Mr. Todd was really laid back, so he only had a few rules in the classroom. First was to respect your classmate’s time and work, second was to clean up after yourselves, and third (“the most important one” he said on the first day of school) was that he would never tolerate racism, sexism, transphobia, or homophobia in his classroom. Your masterpieces you were writing would definitely earn them a failing grade, a good scolding from Mr. Todd, and maybe a visit to the principal’s office. This would be first in a long line of gifts you have in mind for them. 

At lunch, you were slightly stumped as to where you should sit. You didn’t really know anybody in your lunch period, so you just sat at the empty table Adrian, Annie, and Sammy left for you today and ate while working on your masterpieces. Finding sources was extremely easy for you, you remembered doing extensive research about discrimination when you first found out that you weren’t the straight girl you thought you were. Luckily for you, you still had the old Google Doc full of sources you wanted to save for later. Thank you, freshman you. 

Third and fourth block went by relatively quickly, you completely finished the work in both classes with plenty of time left for you to continue typing up the essays. You had gotten Adrian’s completely done and Annie’s thesis written. Oh, revenge is sweet. You weren’t even done with what you had in store for them. 

You had their parent’s phone numbers and you got Adrian’s boss’ number from Marlene, who worked with him as a waitress. Annie’s parents were total sweethearts that would be absolutely fuming if you showed them what she said to you. You weren’t sure about Adrian’s or Sammy’s parents, but you were going to send them screenshots anyways. If Adrian’s parents were as bigoted as he was, you still had his boss to fall back on. You could email the screenshots to the principal and the athletic director so that you could have something to rely on if Sammy’s parents had the same beliefs as she did. She valued cross country more than everything, so you could fuck that up for her. Revenge never tasted so sweet to you before, it felt like you were high with how giddy you were. Techno and Wilbur were going to love this. 

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[iiraven]

Fool-Proof Plan

Pairing: Erwin x reader

Genre: fluff, comedy, smut, modern AU

Warnings: size kink, masturbation, squirting, fingering in front of a mirror, hair pulling, multiple orgasms, manhandling, degradation, praise, established relationship, slight dumbification, choking/ breath play 

Word count: 4.6K

Synopsis: Erwin’s business trip leads you to realise you’re not as sly as you think you are.

Masterlist

Erwin Smith is a man capable of absolutely everything. He’s an amazing cook, an amazing masseur, an amazing businessman, and, most of all, an amazing husband.

There’s only one small shortcoming to the person you consider to be perfect. And that’s his inability to use any form of technology. Texting is bad enough with him signing his name after every message, but it’s social media that’s your husband’s true sworn enemy. Erwin might only be a few years your senior, but somehow your grandfather can comprehend the concept of Instagram faster than him.

“So, you just take pictures?”

“Yes.”

“And people respond to it?”

“Yes.”

“Alright but why?”

The conversation is nothing new, but you find it incredibly unfortunate knowing how talented he is at photography. If you two ever go someplace Erwin knows he wants to capture, he slings his camera over his neck, leaves his phone at home (“I won’t be taking any calls today”) and makes his merry way out of the house. You often eye the phone left stray on the desk, half-expecting it to chase you out of the house for abandoning it. Sometimes, for good measure, you slip it into your own bag. Just in case.

It’s for this reason that Erwin’s business trip puts you on immediate edge.

“It’ll only be for ten days,” he had said. “Sina Corporations takes their summits really seriously…”

“Ten days?” You repeated and Erwin gave you a soft smile.

“I’ll call you every day.”

It’s not like you have an obsessive attachment to your husband (well, that’s debatable), but breaking the routine of returning home to his warm hugs, listening to his day and then complaining about your own- it’s uncomfortable. 

Erwin himself wasn’t looking forward to being away from you, away from home. Running Survey Corporations Ltd is no easy task; trying to balance the infuriating board and the long hours with his actual life is something only possible because of you. Time spent together is fine diamonds Erwin clutches onto and although he’d tried to reason with himself that it was only ten days, it wasn’t a trip he was looking forward to. He never said it out loud. But he didn’t need to. You can tell by the way Erwin’s lips linger on yours a little longer at the airport, as if to preserve your taste.

“Oi Erwin- hurry up.” Levi tries hard not to glare. But even the raven-haired man knows that being away from you puts Erwin on somewhat of an edge. You’re his rock, there to ground him when everything is chaotic, and a summit surrounded by the richest people in the world is as chaotic as it gets.

Despite it all, Erwin stays true to his promise. He calls you at least twice a day and although you could stay on the phone with him for hours, he’s often rushing between conferences and can only spare minutes of his time. Even when he does have an hour, talking to a disembodied voice (he still can’t figure out how to switch his camera back around) is not the same as having Erwin right beside you. It’s the way he squeezes your thigh when he’s focussing on what you’re saying or when he pulls you towards him so that you can lie on his hard chest which still makes you blush even after years of being together.

Because, yes, you miss his touch the most.

Not even five days in, you find yourself with your hands down your panties and a tall blond man on your mind. You’re soaked just thinking about him. His groans, the way he calls your name, the way he pounds into you as you lose your train of thought. Your fingers try to imitate his- their curve and how easily they find your soft spot- but it just feels uncomfortable. So, then you try rubbing your clit, and there’s temporary pleasure there, but not even close enough to tip you over the edge. Even your pink vibrator doesn’t cut it. You deny the fact that Erwin Smith has made you an incompetent masturbator, but you can’t keep up the lie for long and soon enough you give up.

It’s the next day that your ingenious idea kindles. It’s a fool-proof plan. A small flame that has you rushing to the bathroom for the best possible lighting. Erwin can still put his tongue to use at a distance- after all, it’s his voice you fell in love with first. To discretely push him in the right direction, you send him a few photos of yourself. Nothing too scandalous safe he’s in a meeting, but enough that he’ll gets the hint. Sure, Erwin has a couple of polaroid pictures hidden in his brown leather wallet, but he had shot those himself. You want to be a bit more spontaneous! And, honestly, at this point you’re desperate. You could swear you’re developing withdrawal symptoms: just the other day, you were actually temped to pick up a newspaper. It was terrifying.

This had to work. You can just imagine Erwin calling you, voice deep and gruff as he guides you through the process to make yourself cum as he showers you with praise. You feel giddy, eyes glued to the glowing screen, awaiting his response. Even your pink vibrator is out of the box.

Unfortunately, it doesn’t exactly go the way you had planned.

One hour after sending the photos you receive a panicked text from Hange. In the long paragraph, you understand that your poor husband couldn’t get the photos to load and decided to consult the vice president of his company who, upon simply clicking on them, saw you groping your soapy tits. Had it been anyone other than vice president Hange Zoe, Erwin may have broken his phone and quit right there. Thankfully, he only said, “I see” and then asked her where to find the smiley face Emoji.

“I’m so, so sorry Y/N!” Hange screams through the phone. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise! I could send you a picture of my boobs! I’ll go do it right now! I’m sorry! No- You don’t need to feel embarrassed! I won’t mind!”

“It’s alright Hange.” You laugh nervously. “You don’t need to send me anything, it’s really not that big of a deal.”

The whack Levi lands on her head is so hard you hear it through the phone. “Shut the fuck up four-eyes.”

So here you are now. Three days until Erwin returns, a vibrator you’ve given up on back in its box, and a husband who responds to your nudes with a smiley face.

But then Hange Zoe sends you something much better than a picture of her boobs.

The hotel that the trio were staying at- as most hotels do- has a spa. And if there’s one thing Erwin Smith adores it’s allowing himself to relax in a warm, steamy sauna. You’re not sure how Hange was allowed to join them, or how she was able to get her camera clear of fog, or how she was even able to take the picture without Erwin noticing. But you ask her no questions.

Followed by a winky-face is a picture of Erwin sat in the sauna, head tilted backwards, and eyes shut in the pure image of serenity. His arms are propped up on either side of him accentuating his biceps whilst still allowing a clear view of his sculpted body, the sweat running down his chest and abs, making him almost glisten. He’s completely naked except for the flimsy white towel across his lap which does absolutely nothing to hide his thick dick print. You shudder.

You feel like a teenager again, speechless at the sight of a quasi- naked man. Even though you’ve seen him like this thousands of times, you can’t help but fantasise about being trapped underneath him, hair falling onto his face as he loses himself inside of you. God, maybe you do have an unhealthy obsession. But it doesn’t matter. You feel even more like a teenager as you imagine scenarios of him returning home to recreate the picture before you. And with that, your mind is sedated for the next few days.

You have a fool-proof plan. Dress up in the shortest and tightest dress you own, cook your husband dinner, and then give him a blow job at the table so that he’ll never leave you again. It’s going to be just like in the movies and nothing will stop that from happening.

Something stops that from happening.

Just as you’re about to put the potatoes in the oven, Erwin calls. His flight is delayed. You whine through the phone and Erwin’s chuckle just about stops you from sulking like a child. You can be mature about this, right? He’s getting home eventually- complaining isn’t going to help at all. Patience is a virtue and yours has been tested many times before. This is, after all, nothing compared to the time Erwin tried to create an excel spreadsheet. So, you don’t press further. You simply tell Erwin that you miss him and then go find a pillow in which you scream for a good five minutes.

Erwin, on the other hand, is a lot less coveted with his annoyance. He wants nothing more than to strangle whatever and whoever is preventing him from returning to his lovely wife. In the hour journey, the entire plane can feel a crushing tension above their heads, so tense that even the child at the back seems to be holding in his tears. 

Usually, Erwin prefers to spend his flights with a book in his hands, but he’s incapable for picking up the paperback and instead stares out of the window somehow hoping it will go faster.

After what feels like hours, the tight dress has gotten too uncomfortable for you to wear and you resolve yourself to eating the potatoes alone. You still don’t take off your lingerie, though. A two-piece black set with lace detailing that makes you look like a present ready to be unwrapped. It had arrived yesterday, and you had taken your sweet time admiring the embroidered flowers and soft ribbon holding the fragile piece together because you had falsely assumed that you wouldn’t have it on for long. You had in fact contemplated stockings but by the time 11PM came by you simply wrapped Erwin’s favourite robe around your body and tried to take your mind off things. Maybe you should have opted for your own robe because as the sleeves hung from your arms and the soft material effused his smell, it managed to make you feel even worse.

Staying up late was not a foreign feeling but anticipation quickly turns into boredom and you find your eyelids getting heavy. You pause the anime you’re watching and are about to shut your eyes when you hear the faint rattle of keys.

You stumble getting out of bed, knocking your shoulder on the wall before skipping four steps at a time and tripping on the robe at least twice as you rush downstairs. Erwin is barely through the door as you call out his name and he drops his bags right there to let your rush into your arms. You feel so small, so safe, so familiar, within them, as if you’ve returned to the space where you belong. He lifts you up to let you wrap your legs around his waist, your ankles barely crossing. He smells divine, even after hours of being stuck in an airport and his hair is still soft between your fingers. You look at him and the smile that spreads across his face wipes out any hints of fatigue that might have been there just moments ago.

Erwin kisses you and it’s long, deep, and he holds you impossibly closer to him as his tongue dips into your mouth. You don’t want it to end, but Erwin pulls back and says softly, “I’m home, my love.”

You can’t help but giggle. “Welcome home.”

You return to the kiss with a hint of desperation. Tugging lightly on Erwin’s shirt, you know he notices how your core is already warm, but still, he takes his time closing the door with his foot before finally noticing your attire. You’re about to make a sarcastic comment about his obliviousness but the way he looks down at you, at the small flower of lace peeping out from under the heavy robe, the way he slowly wets his lips, he leaves you speechless.

“You’re a gift.” He smiles sweetly though his eyes darken.

“Well, you’ve been working really hard,” You mumble. “You deserve a treat.”

The effect this man has on you is unbelievable. All that anger and frustration you had pent up now crumbles at the light caress of his thumb on your hips.

“Let me unwrap you,” Erwin says. And he walks you to your room, climbing up the stairs with ease as you cling onto him. You attempt to rub yourself against his hard stomach, but one look of warning makes you stop. He’s going to be doing things on his watch, tonight.

Setting you on the floor beside your bed, Erwin undoes the ribbon and you let the fabric pool at your feet. He immediately latches onto your neck, and you gasp, tilting your head to give him better access. His hands begin to roam, fingering the delicate lace of your panties and the straps of your bra as his tongue leaves a trail over your chest. It’s only when Erwin suddenly grabs your breast that you moan, body involuntarily pushing towards him.

He looks up through thick eyelashes and his hands moves to cup your face. You’re about to beg him to touch you where you need it most, but he whispers, “you’re so beautiful.” And you’re speechless again.

You suddenly lean in to kiss him, hands wrapping around his neck and it’s messy and your breath is short. “Please, Erwin,” you say to him between kisses. “Touch me.” You can feel him smile against your lips. “Please”. And before you can stop yourself. “I can’t do it myself.”

Erwin stills and only then do you realise your mistake. He pulls back and stands up straight, towering over you and you recognises that look. It’s the one of a lion who has just found a wounded deer. 

“Oh?”

Fuck. He leans back and raises a brow expectantly and you try to look everywhere but at him. Maybe if you avoid eye contact, he’ll take it as a slip of the tongue. But your husband is not one to let things go. He’s intelligent, he knows exactly what you mean- you don’t need to speak for him to gather what happened, the image of you lying pathetically on the bed, hopeless and desperate. He smirks but stays quiet. Erwin likes it when you use your words.

“No-that’s not what I meant. I mean- you feel best and it’s just-“

You’re cut off by a hand on your scalp, pulling your hair back in one swift motion so that you have no choice but to look up at your husband dead in the eye.

“You were touching yourself whilst I was away, Y/N?”

“I-I mean...yeah…”

“I see.” His gaze is enough to make you gush. “And you weren’t able to make yourself cum.”

Your cheeks burn. It’s not a question, but you affirm it anyways. “No, no I couldn’t make myself cum.”

He’s silent for a moment and you’re not sure if it’s because he’s watching your worried face or because he’s wondering how he’s going to make that face look even more worried.

“I would feel sorry for you, but I suppose that’s what you deserve for touching my cunt without my permission.”

You gasp as he uses his grip on your hair to throw you on the bed. It’s effortless, the way his strength could so easily destroy you and yet he uses it to ruin destroy you in another way- just who you like it. Erwin undoes his tie and all you can do is gawk as he strips down to his boxers. He’s as hard as a rock and you tentatively reach out to touch him, but Erwin grabs your wrist. Without warning, you’re dragged to the other side of the bed where you’re placed to face your large floor length mirror. There’s only a moment of confusion before you understand why Erwin had been so keen on the somewhat awkward placement. He positions himself behind you and you withhold the urge to press your back against his throbbing cock.

“Don’t you take your eyes off the mirror,” Erwin commands, and you nod your head. “Use your words. Or do you need me to show you how to do that too?”

“Yes, sir,” You say quickly.

“Good girl.”

Erwin opens your legs, his hands gripping your thighs hard. You silently wish bruises bloom in their wake- it’s been too long since you’ve had your husband’s mark on you. A reminder of who you belong to. One hand stays on your thigh and the other moves to nudge your panties out of the way of your glistening cunt. 

“I’m going to show you how to touch yourself,” He says in a low, rumbling voice. “And you’re going to watch closely and learn. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes sir.”

His fingers don’t tease your folds for long. Erwin is feeling merciful, because he simply gathers the slick coating your cut before immediately rubbing your clit. The moan that leaves your mouth is pornographic. You buck your hips but the hand on your thigh moves to pin you down, your body flush against his so that you can almost feel his bearing heart. You’re engulfed by him so small as he easily manipulates your body.

Erwin is overwhelmed by the options. Look at his wife unravel below him or stare at the mirror, where you have no place to hide.

“I should be punishing you, you know.” He presses his fingers down hard on a particularly tenter spot and you moan loudly. “But I need to show my dumb little girl how to take care of herself.”

“I-I’m not- ahhh.” Your back arches and Erwin captures your neck again, sucking viciously.

As his thumb continues its assault on your clit, two fingers find your tight hole, dripping and clenching around nothing. He can see in the mirror how your body is practically begging to be filled up. And fill you up he will. But first Erwin inserts a finger and groans at the warmth that greets him. He begins moving it and although you try to understand how he is able to stroke your cunt so perfectly, your mind is fogged and all that’s on your mind is your impending release. This should be a learning experience, but it serves only as a reminder of Erwin’s miraculous hands. He slips his second finger in and your moans only get lounder.

“Erwin, Erwin- they feel so good. Your fingers feel so good!”

You can see his smirk in his reflection, just before he speeds up and you have to grab his wrist to steady yourself. His fingers slam back and forth into your velvety walls. They suck them in, and he is able to find your sweet spot every time. Every single time. Your eyes roll back, you press against Erwin’s chest and your legs shake as you cum. The mess you make, leaking all over Erwin’s hands, your bed, your thighs- you try to look away, but he grabs your face to prevent you from doing so.

“Don’t you dare look away.” His voice is low, threatening. “Look how good I make you feel. Look.”

Your cheeks are flushed and the set that had made you look like a femme fatale, just hours before, is now yet another set that has has you pliant and submissive. “It seems that I’m the only one who can take care of you,” Erwin says. And you know he’s right.

Erwin lifts his soaked fingers to his mouth and his eyes flutter shut as he tastes you. When he opens them, you swear they’ve gone a shade darker. Wordlessly, Erwin slips from behind you to kneel in front of the bed. He removes your panties and holds them up to his nose, giving them a slight inhale before tossing them to the side and lowering his mouth.

“Erwin wai-“

And before you can warn him that your too sensitive- you orgasm was too strong, it’s too soon- his mouth has latched onto your cunt and Erwin is eating you out like a starved man.

“Ah-fuck, fuck, fuck,” You practically scream.

He sucks on your clit, his tongue doing what it does best. You look down, his eyes bore into yours and you know he’s remembering every expression you make as he pushes you over the edge. Despite your trembling arms struggling to keep you upright, your hand goes to grip Erwin’s hair and all you can think about is how soft it is before you cum again. Your husband doesn’t stop this time. His fingers dig into your soft hips to make sure you don’t move, to make sure that he catches everything on his tongue. And he can feel it before you do. The steady build-up of a feeling slightly familiar, but foreign enough that you warn Erwin too late. Your back arches and you squirt in his mouth and before your eyes roll back, you catch a glimpse of what you know to be a smirk in your husband’s eyes.

You can feel the sheets soak below you so try to press your legs together in somewhat of an attempt to hide the mess, but Erwin doesn’t let you. “Don’t be ashamed now, darling.” His voice is solid, domineering. “This is just you perfect body, doing exactly what I tell it to,” He says.

He could be talking about fruits and you would still nod your head dumbly.

The power Erwin has over you is addictive, and your body seems to know it too. As he kisses your thighs, licking off whatever didn’t find its way into his mouth, you can still feel a distant ache at your core. This time, you don’t need to use your words. As you lie weak on the bed, Erwin crawls over, engulfing your form. The lion is ready for his meal. He leans down to capture your lips in a gentle kiss. “I missed you,” He says. It’s the hundredth time, but you don’t tire of hearing it.

“I missed you too.”

Erwin shifts your legs, and you can feel the head of his large cock teasing your entrance.

“I missed all of you,” he repeats. “Your smile. Your voice. Your moans.” He pauses to place a kiss on your collarbone. “Your taste.”

He’s trying to be romantic, but you know why he stalls, and it makes you unable to graciously except the compliments. Erwin loves to hear you pine for him. And who are you to refuse your husband’s desires? So, you reach your hands out towards his shoulders, attempting to make him move if only a little bit. “Erwin!” You whine, and despite your weakness, you manage to push your hips forward, finding friction against his hard cock. “Please!”

Again, that smirk. He rubs against your clit. “My, my- you’ve come twice already and want more?”

Well, he missed your voice so you suppose you should let him hear it. “Let me be selfish, please sir?” You moan. “I need you inside of me.”

His cock twitches against you. And before you know it his hand is around your neck. “Such a good girl, using your words like that.”

He pushes inside you with a groan of relief, a low sound from his throat that causes his eyes to close momentarily. 

It seems you’ve forgotten how big he is because as he stretches you out like it’s your first time, your mouth drops open and a string of curses emerges. Erwin would usually reprimand you for the foul language, but he’s too lost in the feeling of your tight cunt pulling him in. Using your neck as leverage, he squeezes tight so that he can push forward and when your eyes blur, overwhelmed with the pleasure and pain and the lack of oxygen intensifying it all, Erwin loosens his grip only slightly, and your eyes find his again. You don’t notice your mouth hanging open, too focussed on the way your body is accommodating Erwin’s cock again.

“Really big, ‘s really big, sir,” You mumble and Erwin grunts in response, his teeth clenching because he too is reminded yet again of how tight- how perfect- your body is for him.

When Erwin bottoms out, he stills for a moment, basking in your warmth and taking a moment to kiss your cheek, a gentle gesture compared to the hand still grasping your neck. Your cunt gushes despite you wincing about the pain, about his size, and soon he can’t help but move his hips. Erwin pulls back and thrusts deep. You scream him name, as you feel his cock dragging against your walls. Any idea of taking you gently has evaporated from Erwin’s brain and instead his hips snap back and forth violently, his tip kissing your cervix as he buries himself inside of you again and again.

His grunts are laboured as Erwin’s free hand pushes your leg up to your chest to allow him to thrust deeps and deeper. “Just like that- just like that, good girl. My good girl.”

The new angle has him brushing against your g-spot and you won’t last long. You know you can’t- not with him quite literally rearranging your insides. You have one hand clawing at his forearm and the other grips the sheets and you repeat a mantra of “Thank you, sir, thank you” in between your desperate moans. The honorific coming from your lips is too sweet to his ears and he’s reminded of why phone calls bother him so much- nothing compares to hearing your voice like this.  

Erwin’s hand leaves your neck only to tug your bra down, letting your boobs bounce freely as he fucks you hard. You almost complain about the loss of contact but his tongue latches onto to your nipple and before you know it, you are coming all over your husband, screaming his name. Your nails dig into his arm as he nears his own release. Erwin’s hips stutter and he moans your name before throwing his head back in pure bliss as he cums inside of you. You wish you can capture that sight forever, but you don’t think any photo does your husband justice. It’s true- this is better than anything Hange could send.

Your breaths slowly find a slower rhythm in the post-orgasm silence. Erwin watches the way your fluids pool out of you as he pulls out, admiring the own mess on his lower stomach. You wince at the sore feeling and pull him towards you. This time, he follows your command. Breathless bodies mould into each other, finding their place after too long being apart. At the back of your mind, you know you should be making your way to the bathroom, but Erwin’s heavy body lying on your chest is enough to remind you to focus on the moment. For this is where you belong.

“You know, you should be flattered, Erwin.” You nudge his arm weakly as you lay together, bodies entangled in a random set of pyjamas you begrudgingly forced yourself to change into. “No one has better hands than you.”

He laughs. “I am flattered,” he says. “I just like teasing you.”

“No- you have a degradation kink.”

“Yes, that too.”

Even as you were taking a shower together, Erwin’s subtle attempts at having you admit you couldn’t make yourself cum did not go unnoticed. You suppose it’s an ego-thing, but then you realise it’s more. The power of being the only person able to bring you that much bliss is power Erwin thrives on. And despite the money wasted on your pink vibrator, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Still,” Erwin muses and a small smile plays across his lips. “I did expect the photo Hange took to at least help a little.”

Every muscle in your body stills and your eyes suddenly widen. Oh come on. You try to tell yourself that there’s simply nothing wrong with having a photo of your naked husband, but it’s more than that. You know it. Erwin knows it. And by the way he’s smiling, you also know that plastered on your face is the guiltiest of looks. In your poor attempt to escape his gaze by turning your back to him, Erwin chuckles and shakes his head, hugging you closer.

“That’s not fair!” You exclaim.

“It’s not?”

“No!”

You try to wiggle out of his grasp, but Erwin is made of steel. Why do you expect to get away with anything anymore? Erwin Smith is beyond two moves ahead- he’s finished the game before you’ve even started.

“Did you really think I didn’t notice?” 

“Shut up!” You whine. “Why do you have to be such a smartass about it? Let me think I win.”

“Alright, alright.” Erwin chuckles and places a kiss on your forehead. “You’re my winner. Always.”

[sxdmoonchxld]

Operation: Pop The Cherry | JJK

Jungkook x Virgin!Reader

Genre: Smut

Warnings: rough bathroom sex, college au, unprotected sex, teasing, fingering, Jungkook has a virgin kink if you couldn’t tell by he title, lowkey sadistic JK, Gay BFF Jimin, mentions of alcohol and weed, brief mention of homophobia. bIG diCK Jungkook, more belly bulging, and I forgot what else

Word Count: 6.1k

Summary: Against you better judgement and thank to your best friend Jimin. You somehow agreed to let a stranger on campus known as the Cherry Popper, too well..pop your cherry.

Alternatively: You're a virgin. Jungkook has a fetish/kink for fucking virgins.

A/N: I guess i’ll keep putting this note until i stop reposting my old stories. I use to be lizardsocial, and this fic was previously called Game. You may still be able to find it somewhere on tumblr. I edited this fic heavily and it’s honestly a new story, but there are still some elements from the fic it used to be still in there. Unedited so please let me know of any mistakes or typos. Like, comment, reblog, let me know what you think. Enjoy!

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Bass boosted pop music seeped through the dense walls of the energetic room. Strobing bright colored beams danced to the rhythm of the music in mesmerizing synchrony. The musty odor of marijuana, booze, and sex-saturated air shrouded the room in a turbid veil, covering the sea of drunken undulating bodies packed in the cramped living room.  Empty beer cans and other various booze bottles mixed with burnt-out blunts accompanied the young adults. You groaned with irritation and disgust. You didn't want to be here, but to your chagrin, you had a promise to keep.

It wasn't a secret that the college nightlife was unquestionably not your type of 'scene.' You quite frequently elected to willingly engage most of your time in your freshman dorm, wrapped in your weighted burrito blanket. A nightstand stockpiled with all your favorite snacks, lights dimmed low, and lavender incense burning, filling your room with the aroma of relaxation. The perfect setting to binge-watch your favorite show for the umpteenth time, the shifting distorted brightness of your computer screen, projecting the scenes against your face. 

It's kind of funny how you got yourself into this mess in the first place. The one time you decide to take the chance and branch away from the alternate antisocial hermit, your personality had adopted as its own had come back to bite you in the ass. You admit, lately, you've been neglecting your best friend. Your reasonings generally varying from the classic 'oh I was sleep' to deliberately silencing your phone, not wanting to hear the constant shrill ringing of the default ringtone. You loved Jimin, you truly did, but you could only take so much of his eccentric mashup of bubblegum and rainbow sparkles that was his personality. Eventually, guilt began eating away at you piece by piece until you ultimately caved in and invited your friend over for an impromptu movie night in your dorm room. 

Not even 30 minutes into the movie, one that you had been dying to see, might you add, Jimin commenced his drunk and high chattering. He had already started 'pre-gaming' before he came over; Six shots of straight Vodka and 2 blunts. Every day you prayed for this man's liver and brain function; with how much he drank and smoke, you would think he needed it to function. 

"Oh! Oh! Bitttch. Did I tell you about that football player, I fucckked last week!" Jimin started slurring on certain words. You noticed his eyes were glossy and glazed over. 

"No, you didn't, Chim." You sighed, completely giving up trying to watch the movie. You would have to watch it on your alone time. 

"Reeaally?" Jimin slurred, a goofy grin uplifting his lips.

"Yes, really. You haven't told me." Amusement lightly coated your voice. 

"Welll, his name is T-tae, Tae-tae something. Hold on, it's coming to me." Jimin said, rubbing the sides of his temples, trying to remember the guys' name. 

"Taehyung! That's it!" Jimin shrieked, snapping his fingers in victory.

You looked at him startled. You remember Taehyung from high school. You didn't recall him being at this college, though. Well, it wasn't like you paid attention to many things outside your bubble anyway.

"Wasn't he homophobic as fuck in high school?" You asked, genuinely interested.

"Yeah, he was. Buttt I guess he was trying to cover up, that he was actually on the DL." Jimin smiled, whispering the last part.

"DL? What's that mean?" You inquired

Jimin looked at you with a look of betrayal. "It means he's on the down-low, meaning he didn't want anyone to know he's gay. Girrl, I'm too crossfaded to be explaining this to you."

You chuckled, " My bad, Chim. So was it good?"

"Fuck, no! Dick was straight trash. The only thing that saved him a little was that his dick was huge." Jimin said, wiping away a pretend tear from the corner of his eye. 

You laughed boisterously at that. If Jimin wasn't so adamant about becoming a professional dancer. He could seriously take up a career in comedy.

"Speaking of dick. When are you gonna get some?" Jimin asked, turning his body to face you completely. As you looked at him, you noticed his eyes seemed a bit clearer, and his face wasn't as red as earlier. Not only did Jimin drink like a fish and smoke like a chimney. He was somehow able to sober just as fast.

"Oh my god, Jimin. Please don't sta-"

"Mmm, no missy," Jimin said, wagging his finger in your face.

"Don't you hear it?" He said, cupping his hand around his ear as if he was straining to hear something.

"Hear what?" You replied, rolling your eyes and crossing your arms against your chest.

"The cobwebs and tumbleweed living in your cunt."

"Jimin!" You shrieked, slapping the arm closest to you.

"Don't Jimin me! You know it's true, I swear you're gonna be a 40-year-old virgin, and by the time you finally make the decision to have sex, it'll be too late!" Jimin yelled, stumbling to stand up from the couch.

"First off, ouch. I won't be a 40-year-old virgin. That's very insulting. Second, I do plan to lose it soon. I just haven't found the time or the right guy." You said, looking down at your feet shyly. You did want to lose your virginity, but with being an introvert with a mix of social anxiety and just a dash of seasonal depression for added flavor. It was hard even to get out of bed sometimes. Much less going out and trying to find someone to do the do with.

"Oh! Well, if that's all, then I got you covered, babe. Time? Next week Friday at Jihyo's dorm. As for the right guy, I know a dude. He has like a kink for that kind of thing." Jimin answered nonchalantly, now scrolling through his phone, probably on his social media page.

You looked at Jimin, head tilted to the side, confused. "What kind of thing?"

"Oh, you know fucking virgins and shit. Popping their cherries." He said, popping his "P's."

You sputtered, exasperated. What the fuck. You didn't kink shame, that was for losers, but he can't seriously expect you to do something like that.

"What the actual fuck. Jimin, are you serious?"  

"Deadly." He said, looking you square in your eyes. His tone of voice haven dropped an octave lower.

"Jimin no. I-i can't."

"Jimin, yes! Err, I mean _____ yes, you can! Come on, it's a once in a lifetime experience. Plus, it's not like he's a total stranger. I've known him since he was 8 years old. I use to babysit the little shit head." Jimin said, waving his hand in the air, trying to swat away a rogue fly.

"Wow, Chim. You know, now that you put it like it makes me feel a lot better about the situation." You said tone dripped in sarcasm

"Really?" Jimin squealed, a delighted twinkling in his eye.

"Of course not! Don't be stupid!" Offended, you gawked at Jimin. You swear sometimes he could be so dimwitted.

"Come on, please? At least meet him, and if the vibe is not right, then you can leave no harm done." Jimin pleaded, his attention back on you. Was it crazy that you were actually thinking about agreeing to this? Jimin did have a point. It was sort of a once in a lifetime opportunity. He did know the guy, and if you didn't like the vibe, then you could just bounce, right? Right?

Sighing in defeat, your hands dragged down your face and turned towards a pouting Jimin. Grabbing at his deflated shoulders, you shook her lightly, and with urgency in your voice, you spoke, "Alright goddammit! I'll do it, but you have to stay by my side the whole time, no running off, you understand!" 

You watched Jimin's face quirk into a sly smirk. You swore you could see the cogs in his brain churning. Damn, you were going to regret this. You had the tendency to make deals when pressured. Most of the time, those agreements ended up backfiring on you, confining you in the proverbial rock and a hard place. 

"Yay! Operation: Pop _____ Cherry has commenced. Okay, so will meet at the auditorium on the art campus. From there we will walk to Jihyo's dorm, it's only five minutes. Promise me you'll actually show up and won't flake on me." A complacent expression rested arrogantly on Jimin's features, a single pinky finger extended towards you. 

"Don't give this situation a not-so-secret code name. And I can't believe I'm saying this but, I promise." You agreed, interlocking pinky fingers, yours thumbs coming up to press against one another.

"So I'll meet you at the location Friday, don't be late, and wear something sexy. No granny clothes." he chirped, making his way to your front door.

"Wait! You're leaving already?" you frowned, looking at the clock on your wall. He's only been here for an hour, and 30 mins of it were spent persuading you to hurry up and lose your virginity. You didn't even get to finish the movie together.

"Sorry babe, but I have a dick appointment." he shrugged, putting his arms through the sleeves of his jacket.

"Can you at least tell me the name of the guy who's supposed to fuck me?" you huffed, honestly you were done for tonight. As soon as Jimin left, you were heading straight for bed.

"Oh yeah, how could I forget." Jimin slaps the center of his forehead. "He's a real cutie. I would fuck him if he wasn't as straight as an arrow." Jimin looks off to a far wall, eyeing it with jealousy.

"Just tell me his name, please." You pleaded. Oh yeah, that's definitely a headache forming. You could feel it already. Jimin snaps out of his daydreaming and spins his body towards you.

"Jungkook."

Time skip to a week later, and precisely as you suspected, what a mistake that whole conversation was. Now here you were at this fucking dorm party with people you didn't know or care to get to know. Jimin had left you as soon as he saw his next piece of ass. Restlessly you hauled down the short black dress that insisted on riding up your ass, the soles of your feet protesting in the slim heeled shoes. Floundering your way into the packed building, you couldn't help but query where Jungkook was. Jimin was supposed to get around to send you a picture of the mystery man, but that never happened. Funny how now was the best time you decided to question why exactly Jimin was your best friend.

"Well damn, the pictures Jimin sent me doesn't do you justice at all. You're fucking hot." You recoiled from the closeness of the voice, the heated breath sending chills skittering down your spine, and the hairs on the back of your neck ramrod straight. Heat spurred to your face when you whisked around to meet an absolutely gorgeous guy. Like unfairly gorgeous guy. You stared wide-eyed, taking in his chiseled facial features, paired with wide doe eyes and bunny smile decorating his face. Somehow, someway he's mastered looked soft and sexy at the same damn time. And fuck was that a dangerous combination for your pussy. Your heart too, but more so your cunt.

"U-uh, thanks? Who are you exactly?" You watch as he recoils back from your with a look of apprehension on his face.

"A-are you not ____?" he stutters cutely. You think you can see the beginnings of a blush burning his cheeks. You nod your head once to confirm his question. He stared at you a minute longer before you see the recognition spark in his chocolate orbs.

"Jimin didn't send you my picture did he?" Shaking his head with his eyes close, you get the courage the scan his face a bit more. Yeah. He's definitely blushing.

"Sorry. I guess seeing you here, I thought Jimin would have...prepared you better." Shaking your head from side to side because your words refused to come out. You watched as he backed up a bit further from your personal space and thrust his right hand out to you. 

"The name's Jungkook, or J.K. Whatever suits your taste."

With clammy hands, you taking his outstretched hand marveled at how it almost covers your hand. Now that he's moved back from you, you now had to chance to see how tall he really was. Maybe about 6 to 7 inches taller. You look down at his feet and eye his combat boot, perhaps a little shorter but still taller. And big, yeah, definitely bigger. His oversized black jacket did little to hide the broadness of his shoulders and chest. You let your eyes travel down the length of his body. You bet he's hiding some killer abs under his shirt. And holy fuck, his thighs.

"You like what you see, baby girl?" Teasing, he's teasing but God, if his voice didn't make you pussy throbbing pathetically. Whimpering slightly, you let out a meek "Yes." God, you hope he didn't hear that.

Much to your dismay, he did, hear you. How he heard you with the music as loud as it was, was a mystery to you. But you watched his pupils dilate, and his nostrils flare slightly. Jungkook tucks his bottom lip between his teeth as his eyes rake up and down your scantily clad body. His heated stare scrutinized across your body, intrigue exerting over him, as he analyzed the way the snug-fitting dress molded to the curves of your shape. He could tell you didn't do this often. His dick twitched in his jeans with enthusiasm. 

It's the increase in pressure of your hand that makes you realize you're still holding his hand. You go to retract your hand from his. However, yelp shrilly as he tugs you closer to his body. Both hands now resting on his chest, and his wrapped around your waist. Fuck, you could feel the warmth and coarseness of his hands through your thin dress. A spontaneous tremor racked your body. The heat-transmitting from his frame mixed with the floral yet musky undertone of his cologne made you somewhat featherbrained.

"Fuck, you're so soft." You squeak as he squeezes your waistline, pulling you even closer against his body. You were now putty in his hands.

"Jimin told you my....preferences, right?" his voice caressed your ear. Just a slight movement or subtle twitch, and his lips would be on your skin.

"Y-yeah, he did." It should be an embarrassment how frail and breathless you sounded, but that didn't matter.

Jungkook hid his smile behind your ear. This was just too easy. Just how he liked it. He almost felt bad- almost. He was gonna ruin you utterly and completely, mold the shape of cock in the walls of your pussy. His name spilling from your lips, voice going hoarse by how loud he would make you scream. Fuck he couldn't wait. He's had virgin's before, a lot of them. That's his whole M.O. The cherry popper, virgin fucker, whatever. Jungkook's heard all the names in the book. But there's just something about you, you just had an air of genuine innocence, and he couldn't wait to defile it. 

Jungkook pulls his head back, enough to where his eyes can trail over the bared skin of your neck, and the sprinkling of perspiration sparkling off the bright strobing lights, no doubt from nervousness. His tongue traced over his thin upper lip, watching the droplets of sweat spiral down the curve of your neck. He wanted to taste you. 

"Alright, then." He jerks his body away from you. You're no longer touching his chest, but his hands are still on your waist. 

"Let's enjoy the party before the fun really begins. Every done body shots before?" Jungkook spoke casually, undeterred by the way you recoiled back or the look of stupor on your face.

"W-what? B-body shots, why?" you squeaked, failing to keep from stuttering over your words. Is this how it's supposed to go? Is this normal? You're bewildered, and just a bit perturbed. Were you just imagining that sexual tension that was going on just moments ago? For sure, you thought Jungkook was gonna throw you over his shoulders and haul you off to the nearest unoccupied bedroom or bathroom. At that instant, you didn't care. 

Jungkook regarded the war of emotions wage across your features, merriment and strobing lights twinkling in his eyes. Fuck, you were cute, so desperate staring up at him with a pout on your face a puppy dog eyes. He could honestly just take you back to the closest room and fuck the shit out of you. But he wanted to play with his prey, a bit more. The wait made it that much more satisfying.

"Don't pout too much, baby girl or I may not be able to contain myself. Follow me. The table is this way."

Jungkook didn't indulge in answering any of your questions you rambled off at him, delighted to see you trailing on his heels like a lost pup. Jungkook directed you further into the dorm, and like a dog on a leash, you followed. In the center of a sparse room sat a scraped up black table. You observed the area. It was devoid of many people. The several that were present made no recognition of your proximity in their intoxicated state.

"So who's first?" Jungkook asked, setting the bottle of tequila, rim salt, and limes down on the table.

"U-uh, I don't know. I guess it doesn't matter." You shrugged hesitantly. You were way out of your element here.

"Perfect then, you first." Jungkook should be ashamed by how excited he was at getting to sample your skin. It looked smooth, felt soft when he had you in his arms, and would no doubt probably taste as sweet as it seemed. You nodded in docility, wandering over to crawl on top of the table, being attentive to your dress. You lay flattened against the table, shiverings racking your body as he began pouring a trail of salt between your cleavage. 

He poured himself a shot in the depression of your throat and tore the lime in half with his bare hands. Smirking at how you flinched when he thumped the liquor bottle down beside your head. Jungkook pushed the other half of the unevenly split lime towards your lips, a silent gesture to take the lime in your mouth. Jungkook watched as your lips curled gently around the hull of the green citrus. A flare of lust stirred in his loins at the action. He couldn't wait to see your lips stretched around the head of his cock. He observed your eyes clamped closed as he began dropping his head forward to your chest. It was adorable and innocent. He noted the way your lips slackened around the citrus in your mouth, your chest heaving in speed, the closer his tongue trailed to your neck.

You tasted splendid, just as sweet as he thought. The salt on your skin did nothing to deter your natural flavor. If anything, it enhanced your sweetness, rendering your skin damn near mouth-watering. Jungkook's ears perked at the breathless moans slipping past the fruit perched against your lips, drawn out by the repeated pass of the wet, pink appendage lapping at the salt line between the valley of your breast. Committing your muffled moans to memory, he lapped persistently at the collection of salt and tequila in the hollow at the base of your neck.

You face flammed in embarrassment as panting moans effortlessly tumbled from your mouth. Who knew your chest and neck was such an erogenous spot. Despite your shame, you couldn't stop wriggling, shifting your thighs together for some form of friction to sate the rising arousal dampening your panties. You yelped at the sensation of blunt teeth nibbling at your skin before soft lips came to suck at the shallow indentations. Fluffy hair with an undercut came into your line of vision as Jungkook lifted his head up to your lips. Your heart stammered tortuously against your ribs, flirtatious eyes stared lidded with searing lust, his head advanced closer to your lips. Your eyes fluttered closed, lips puckering against the bitter hull of the lime.

Jungkook closed the distance, slanting his mouth over the lime, blocking his contact with yours. He sucked against the sour fruit, acidity puckering his lips, residual tartness flowing to your cracked lips. Jungkook withdrew from your mouth, taking the drained lime hull with it. Your saccharine moans were heaven to his ears. It had awoken something inside him, fueled his fire in knowing that possibly no one had ever heard such a sweet sound. He wanted more, craved more. 

"Have you ever been kissed before, sweetheart?" Your eyes followed the movement of his tongue, poking out to moistening his lips. 

"Yeah, once in like 3rd grade." Who hasn't snuck behind a tree or hid underneath the dark coverings of playground equipment to lock lips with a childhood crush?

He grinned salaciously, body moving to rest between your spread legs. Oh, now he was really excited. Your lips were practically untouched. Just another part of your body to claim first. You jumped when palms pressed flat against the revealed skin of your thigh. Gently, Jungkook rubbed lazy circles on your skin, never lowering or furthering than the hem of your dress. He felt you wiggle beneath his hands, observed your eyes, glimpsing―darting about, should you concentrate on his face, or his hand, uncertainty was etched on your face.

"Amazing." He groaned, eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks, before grinning again. His face inched closer to yours, his lips but a breath apart, warmth flickered against your lips as he talked, level and smooth. " Well, how about I become your second?

And then his lips were on you, the soft muscle mangled itself to your lips, tentative and sluggish to give you a chance to register his mouth slanted upon yours. Jungkook chuckled against your lips at your unresponsiveness. He guesses you were a little shell shocked. It only takes a few more stagnant seconds before you're shyly reciprocating his kiss. Delicate, shaky movements highlighted your inexperience. Increasingly, Jungkook increased the pressure behind lips, his hands spreading to enclose around your waist, dragging you closer against him. One of Jungkook's hands removed from your waist to bury itself in your hair, gently his fingernails scratched against your scalp, an airy moan was his reward. 

Hands completely abandoning your midsection, one gripped the meat of your thigh, pulling you to the edge of the table, flush against the tent of his denim jean encased manhood, the other embedded in your strands pulled sharply on your roots, a loud gasp tearing from you. Jungkook took that opportunity to advance his tongue into your gaped mouth. His tongue wrapped itself around yours, briefly wrestling for dominance before easily pinning your tongue in submission. His hips ground against yours, the heat of your covered core teased him through his jeans. 

He thoroughly explored your mouth, swallowing the now copious cries leaving your mouth. Reluctantly, Jungkook tore himself from your kiss-swollen lips. The ravished looked suited you perfectly. You looked beautiful, thighs brazenly spread, eyes glazed over in lust, your sticky chest heaving from the length of the shared kiss. Even in the dim lights, he could make out the taunt pebbling of your nipples. 

Your mouth gaped wide, flapping about like a fish out of water, trying despairingly to draw air into your lungs. Your first kiss definitely didn't compare to this much. Your wide eyes flicked between Jungkook and the floor, your bottom lip tucked firmly between your teeth, feeling shy as he just stares at you. Releasing your teeth from your lips, you timidly touched your mouth, admiring how plump they've gotten from the intense liplock.

Wordlessly Jungkook hitched you over his shoulder, winded with a grunt as his defined shoulder blades dug into your stomach and what sounded like a growled vibrate up into you. You squirmed lightly in his hold, scared he was going to drop you, and secondly, your panty-clad ass on display for the party-goers, not that anyone was looking. 

You watched the continuous panels of hardwood floor move beneath you as Jungkook carried you to an unknown destination. You couldn't believe you were really doing this. Were you actually going to have sex with a complete stranger? Someone who was known for explicitly fucking virgins. Realistically, you should be ashamed, yet, you conceded full control to him without a second thought. What did that say about you? About your character? Would you now be labeled as 'easy' or a 'hoe' after all this was done? What was going to happen between you and Jungkook? 

The flick of a switch stirred from your thoughts. You shield your eyes with your hand at the bright lights pouring into the room, or rather a bathroom. Jungkook loved the confusion marring your features. He wouldn't fuck you in his bedroom just yet. That was a privilege you would have to earn, no matter how intrigued he had become with you. There's always humiliation to be had in the corruption of innocence, and fucking you in the bathroom was a good start. He planned on making you watch him as he destroyed your body, popping your cherry, stretching your tight virginal hole to accommodate his length, and claimed it as his own. Jungkook shuddered at the thought, his possessive nature taking a turn for the worst. 

Impatiently Jungkook sat you on top of the bathroom sink counter, his lips smashed against yours, the previous tenderness was gone, vanished into a puff of smoke. Teeth banged, and tongues flailed recklessly against each other in the heat of passion, with you struggling to keep up with the demands of his dominating kiss. Thick fingers trailed beneath the hem of your dress, tickling the expanse of your thighs. Jungkook wasted no time in shifting your slick soaked panties to the side, a warm digit gliding effortlessly through your damn folds.

"Fuck, you're already so wet. You're enjoying this a little too much, baby girl." Jungkook growled, panting against your lips. His finger breached your sex, you tensed deftly around the foreigner intrusion, stretching your weeping walls. 

"Ah, Jungkook." You cried listlessly, rocking your hips against his stilled finger. He felt so good inside you, and it was just his finger. Maybe this experience wouldn't be as bad as you heard. Now you couldn't wait to see what his cock felt like embedded deep within your pussy. Jungkook pumped slowly, eventually introducing a second finger to help loosen you up more. You were gonna be a tight fit, very tight, but that just made it even better. You hissed at the slight burn as he began scissoring his fingers apart with each withdrawal. Your hands wrapped around his neck as you buried your head against his broad chest, your mellifluous moans suppressed by the fabric of his shirt. 

"G-go faster, please." You begged, your body adjusting and quickly becoming frustrated by the snail's pace his fingers were pumping. You bucked your hips against his hands, hoping he would ease the growing discomfort boiling in your stomach. 

"Have you ever had an orgasm before, babe?" You nodded eagerly at his question, whining as you bucked against his hand again.

"Oh, really? Who gave it to you." Slow, he was going too slow you wanted, no you needed more friction, more stimulation from him.

"M-me. I-i did." Jungkook loved how you stuttered, it stroked his ego and filled him with arrogance to know it was him, and only that was capable of making you stumble over your words.

"Mmm, and how did you do it? Did you rub this little clit of yours raw?" You cried louder when his thumb flicked at your clit, the stimulation further drawing the appendage from its hood.

"Or did you fuck this tight hole, with these tiny fingers of yours?" At those words, a loud, choked moan, even muffled by your face in his chest, echoed throughout the white bathroom. Jungkook had gone deeper inside, almost to the third knuckle. Another moan left your lips as he twisted his fingers inside you, his palm now facing upwards.

"Though you and I bought know they couldn't possibly reach deep enough to touch the spot you really want." It's euphoric, no better yet orgasmic, the sheer shock of electric pleasure that zaps through your body when he finds the spongy bundle of nerves. Your body jerked heavily, legs go to snap close, only to be stopped by his broad body between your thighs.

He chuckles softly, stroking your thigh with his other hand. Jungkook shifts his head down, bringing his mouth closer to your ear. He exhales quietly, warm air tinged with tequila and lime caresses the light hairs on you around your ear. " I found it, huh?"

You whimper, rubbing your head up and down against his chest.

"You want me to speed up the pace, sweetheart?" Jungkook's voice is delicate now, so gentle. But you're confused, overwhelmed, and scared. It's never felt like this when you did it yourself. Your not sure if you could handle the feeling, so you don't provide an answer to Jungkook's question.

"Don't ignore me ____, that's not nice manners. I'll ask again." You clench around his fingers as Jungkook inches just a bit deeper. 

"Do you. Want me. To go faster?" With each pause, he arches his fingers in a 'come here' motion, pressing deeply against your bundle of nerves, the sensation of having to pee accompanied with each thrust.

 "Y-yes, faster, more. Pl-lease." Fuck, you sounded so pretty begging for him if he wasn't addicted before. You had him sprung now. Jungkook buried his face in the crook of your neck, the sharp smell of tequila and salt still lingering on your skin. He sucked at the junction where your shoulder and neck met. You bucked harder against his fingers, your juices now dripping to coat his palm is sticky cream.

"If you wanted more. Why didn't you just ask?" Jungkook said deviously. Confused, you felt withdraw his sticky digits, walls gripping to stop their departure. Without warning, Jungkook flipped you over onto the counter, your knees buckled at the sudden change in position. Your faced burning at your displayed state, droplets of your essence dribbled from your pussy, slicking up your inner thighs. You yelped as Jungkook grasped at the length of your hair, pulling back pointedly, your neck craned back to observe him addressing you in the mirror.

"You've been wondrous for me ____. Such a sweet girl." He expressed, his empty hand disappearing behind your perked ass to fiddle with the groin of his pants. 

"Truly, you have. Your response and reactions to my touch have really gotten me riled up. It's been a while since I've tittered on the edge of losing control." You wheezed, starting to panic as you felt the thick head of his cock slap teasingly against your slicked throbbing hole. Oh, God, he's huge. Jungkook's cock might just tear you apart. You shifted your hips forward, pressing against the cold marble of the bathroom counters door.

"I-i don't think, I can t-take it Jungkook, you're too b-big. It's my first-time, r-remember?” Your stuttering worse now, but you're scared.

Jungkook pulls your hips back with the hand the was grasping his length, the side of your hip now coated in his pre-cum. His hand lays flat in the crease of your back, forcing you into a perfect arch. 

"You can take it, all of it. And don't worry, of course, I remembered your fragility. I'll go slow, I promise." You plead silently with your eye contact through the mirror. 

"You ready?" You nod once an advert your eyes down to the sink.

Your mouth shakily falls agape as he slowly began pushing the head of his cock into you. It burns, but not as bad as you had anticipated. You take the chance to look back up into the mirror, adamant about giving Jungkook a thankful smile for his gentleness. That vision that greets looks like it jumped right off the page of your favorite erotic story. 

Jungkook's got his head thrown back, the edge of his t-shirt clenched tightly between his teeth, your eyes trail the drip of sweat that follows the curve of his jawline. You have a clear view of his abs all the way down to the v-cut of his hip, to the happy trail that leads to a neatly trimmed bush of pubic hair. You clench tightly around him, efficiently aroused by the view. You feel his cock throbbed heavily inside you, even getting bigger if possible.

"You like that, sweet girl? You like seeing me struggling to contain myself because you're so tightly around me. This little pussy trying to milk me for all I can give you." You love it. You feel powerful in a way. Do you really feel that good around him?

"Yes." Jungkook draws out the 'S.' 

"You feel amazing, so warm and wet. I wished you could see how coated in white you've got me, and I'm not even all the way in yet."

You scream soundless as he bucks into you, shoving in half of his length. It doesn't hurt anymore. You just feel stuffed full. Lifting a trembling hand, you take the chance a feel the lower part. You noticed swelling that wasn't there before, intrigued; you push down against it, moaning in shock you realize it's Jungkook's cock. 

"Yeah, baby girl, that's all me, well, most of me. You ready to take the rest?"

"Yes! Please!" That's the clearest you've been all night. You don't get an answer as Jungkook immediately picks up his pacing, thrusting into you faster. He wastes no time pumping deeply into your tight pussy, his tip smashing against the entrance to your cervix as you pant and grit your teeth in slight discomfort, overshadowed by pleasure. The burning sensation is back as he fucks in deeper with each brutal and swift stroke. But you don't care cause it still feels amazing. You can hear yourself, sloppy and soaking wet, echoing throughout the bathroom. You're drooling down his pistoning cock. You can feel it dripping down your inner thighs. Your head jerks violently against your shoulders, to weak support your head from his menacing thrust. 

Tightened vocal cords released strained shrieks of praise; from your mouth, drool dripping from your lips, into the sticky cleavage of your breast, and sweat coated your skin. The coil in your stomach was quickly tightening, never had you felt anything so deep inside you. If you ever had sex with anyone else, they would never compare to Jungkook.  You were fucked both figuratively and literally.

Jungkook pulled you further from off the sink, the new position allowing him even deeper. You clawed at the marble tops underneath your fingers, your eyes rolling in the back of your head. That sensation of having to pee is back again.

"J-K, I-m. I have to-," You don't get to finish as the band in your stomach snapped. Silently you announced your release; if it wasn't for the new wave of cum coating his cock, or the fluttering tightness of your walls, Jungkook might have missed your orgasm. He wasn't far behind you. The constant clenching of your ridged walls around his cock, had him reaching his limit sooner than he would like. Jungkook had half a mind to pull out but decided to gamble his odds. You're the first person he's fucked raw in a while, and with three deep thrusts later, he was shooting his hot seed right against your cervix. 

Breathing heavily, Jungkook lets you fall against the sink, observing as you crumpled against the sink countertop. Pride swelled his chest as he watched his seed bubble out of your well-used hole. He's never contemplated going farther with the virgins he fucked. He wouldn't make any hasty decisions now though there were still a lot of things he wanted to do with you. He would sleep on it and revisit the idea in the morning.

"So would you say, Operation: Pop Your Cherry was a success?"

You giggled, winded, still having difficulty catching your breath. You straighten up against the bathroom counter, the majority of your weight still resting on the object as you had yet to regain the feeling in your legs.

"Jimin and his stupid code names. I swear when I get a hold ass, he's dead." You warned already preparing your revenge on your best friend. You stare at Jungkook in the eyes through the mirror, smile a bit goofy, you say.

"Operation: Pop My Cherry. Mission complete."

[ghostie-galaxi]

TO1 playing with your hands/you play with their hands

Jaeyun

Giant ass softy

Adores it

I think he might not notice at first but once you do it like once or twice he'll catch on to it as one of your habits

Looks at you when he notices and literally melts

Probably gets excited and just wraps his hand around yours

When he gets the chance though, he'd probably do the same thing to you and see if you notice

Which you do and smile at him

Probably take turns playing with each other's hands because you both love doing it

And the others would probably notice this being a big deal between who's turn it is to play with who's hand

And they'd probably laugh at you both and cringe from being gross

Well, they'd laugh and tease Jaeyun, maybe not so much you lol

And he'd probably get shy and yell at them, he is leader after all

But the older members will probably thinks it's cute so no big deal with them

And it's not like he's going to stop just because the others are being jerks

He'll deal with it, and it'll be fine

Still continues to take turns playing with your hands because he adores you and wants you to keep doing it

Chihoon

Notices one day and from then on can't get over how cute you are

Just smiles gently at you and let's you continue

Might move your hand though occasionally so you're tracing patterns on his shoulder or back instead of his hand, but would normally let you do your thing with his hand because you're too cute

He'd only do that though if he was stressed or tired, since your touch always makes him feel better

Especially if he's in the studio alone and needs company and inspiration, he'd have you there with him and have you touching him somehow

Might even have you in his lap and your arms around him

Or you'd stand behind him and wrap your arms around his shoulders

But if you were just sitting together somewhere with the members you'd mostly just stick to playing with his hand

Probably tries it to you someday to see why you enjoy doing it so much

Probably doesn't understand though, but he thinks it's cute when you do it

And you get happy when he does it every now and then

Just enjoys when you touch him and likes that you have a habit that is just you touching people lovingly

Donggeon

As a fellow Cancer I can confirm that we are hopeless romantics and simp for any tiny acts of affection

So I can imagine he would too

Definitely notices the first time you do it, especially if you do it for awhile

Doesn't really say anything but inside he's so freaking happy

Let's you continue doing it and silently enjoys it

He's so happy my god-

Eventually he'd probably grab your hand and kiss it, because he needs to match the energy of being the romantic type

Y'all just turn into #couplegoals

Honestly probably tries to get you to do it by putting his hand near yours and hopes you'll take a hint

And if you don't then he'd probably just hold you hand

Appreciates everytime to do play with his hands, and be one way or another tires to return the gesture

But either pulling you closer, wrapping his muscular arms around you, pulling you into/onto his lap, etc.

Just wants to share every and all kinds of affection with you

Still as a Cancer, physical touch is our love language I don't speak for all Cancer's don't @ me

Literally just adores everything about you and everything you do

Chan/Chanhyuk

This motherfucker would be so cocky and flirty when you do this

Thinks it's sweet at first and enjoys your cute habit but gets to the point where he just teases you for it

Saying stuff like "you know, if you want to hold my hand you could've just asked"

To which you'd be like "I don't, I enjoy doing this"

Which he's probably just laugh at and be like "I know I'm just messing with you"

He does really like your cute habit though and hopes you never stop doing it because of his teasing

If you did stop though after that he'd grab you hand again and try to get you to do it

Or grab you hand and starting playing with it too, trying to get you to do it

And then it'd be your turn to be like "you know, if you want to hold hands you could've just asked"

And he'd just shake his head slowly but smiles

He knows he deserved that

Kisses you forehead because he loves you, and your attitude lol

Pulls you closer and cuddles you

Jisu

Probably notices the second you touch him and then gets all excited

Let's you continue doing it while he sits there melting inside

Doesn't really try to play with your hands too, he kinda just enjoys letting you do it

He'd do it to you too as more of a comfort thing

Like if you're upset or he upset you he would come try to hold you hand and rub circles in it to at least try to comfort you

Which you enjoy it too so it normally work that he's doing something you normally do as a way to make you feel better

But if you're actually upset at him normally when he tried to apologize by doing that, if you accept it you'd just end up hugging him

And then after words for the next few days he tried to play with your hands more in hopes to make up for it a little bit

Which might also include hand kissing

But overall, honestly just enjoys your cute habit and let's you do your thing

He likes just having your hands together so likes that you natural just like touching people's hands

Also long as you're only doing that with him 😉

Minsu

Loves it

Like I gets he's one of the older members but he's a total cutie

So he's a sucker for tiny acts of affection

So if you play with his hands he's going to notice

Another one that just gets all excited inside when you do it

And he'd be another one to return the affection by also playing with your hands or doing something else

Like he might play with your hair one day or rub your shoulders or back a lot as a way of trying to show his tiny acts of affection

Sometimes he might just hold onto your hand with both of his sometimes or hold onto your arm just to be closer to you

Super cute all the way around and just loves holding you

And loves when you hold onto him too

I feel like I could see him being a bit insecure about being tiny and cute thinking that you'd want someone who can protect you or is more "manly" so when you do give him back hugs and cuddles with him he tends then to see the positive side that you love him just the way he is

Or if he does tell you about that you'd reassure him saying you like him the way he is because you get to do that with him and he appreciates the little things to you

Which makes him feel like 10x times better than before

He's now your personal ball of fluff so take care of him

J.You/Jeyou

Does enjoy it but I think he'd take it more as a sign to do a bit more skinship

So like if you start doing it out of habit, when he notices he'll put his arm around you, hold your hand, place it on your thigh, etc.

If you really want to continue doing it though, you'd probably have to actually hold his hand so he knows not to move it

Or if does move his hand around your shoulders or something and he notices that you look upset afterward he'll move it back after awhile and let you continue

You'd probably just have to come out and say that you have a habit of playing with people's hands and that you like doing it so when he moves it upsets you

To which then he'll be more considerate and let you play with his hand

Or if his arm is around your shoulders he would give you his other hand to play with

I can see him taking your hand and tracing circles with his thumb on the back of it when his arm is around you

He does think your habit is cute, he just might prefer more skinship than just playing with his hands

Never wants to accidentally hurt your feelings though, so he'll let you do it and tries to be more conscious of it

Might also try to kiss your hand or kiss you behind the ear or something when you're close

Still enjoys it's but probably forgets every now and than that you do it so you try not be too upset if he moves

But he'll probably end up putting his hand back so you can continue

Kyungho

This bitch-

Holy shit when I say I'm so in love with him he's definitely one of my ults

There's an actual video of him mindlessly playing with Woonggi's pinky during some V-Live I think (I'll put the video but warning it's a ship video, idk what V-live it is specifically so I just put the video I found it from)

So literally he already plays with people's hands so like-

All I can imagine is just him doing the same thing when you guys are sitting really close to each other, as his other arm is around your waist and you're leaning into him

And you look down because you felt him and noticed making him look at you while you're still looking at his hand

Before you look up at him with your faces are really close and you share a moment with each other right before you kiss

Like alsjabcoameval •///•

He's definitely going to be the person to play with your hands he's going to notice if you do too

So y'all would always have super cute moment like this

I swear I love him sm

https://youtu.be/yVJMQhxQuY8

Here's the ship video if you want to see what I mean, you can skip to 4:30 if you'd like just the moment.

Jerome/Sungmin

Another cute ass bitch

Probably has dreamed of this moment of having a S/O that plays with his hands

Also another one that's probably a hopeless romantic and just loves these cute things you do

Even if he doesn't really notice at first

Wouldn't notice until he pulls his hand away from you for a second and feels you right there and just looks back at you, completely shocked

Before he has the biggest smile on his face

Can't get over how happy he is and how cute you are

Now Everytime you're sitting next to each other he will basically hand his hand (lol) over to you and make you play with it

Really just enjoys the feeling of you tracing your hand along his fingers and lines on his hand

Or when you brush lightly across his fingertips and it tickles slightly

He gets so giddy off of these little touches

Especially more if it's not just his hands, if you just lightly rub his shoulders or back he'd probably explode

Honestly just a sucker for any sort of affection and loves the light tracing touches

Unless you take that as an opportunity to tickle him in which he probably wouldn't let you do that for like a week until he gives in to you

You'd probably have to start back with playing with his hand though after that, but he still loves it so

Honestly just loves it, and loves you, so yeah

Woonggi

Honestly probably doesn't notice

Like he just doesn't feel it and pays no mind to it

Until he goes to move his hand for whatever reason and he feels you right next to him

Probably gives you a confused look as to why your hand was so close, making you shy away thinking he was annoyed

To which he'll just grab your and hold it thinking you were trying to hold hands with him

You'd smile at him knowing he wasn't annoyed or anything and he'll smile back at you

It might take a little while for him to notice that you just generally play with people's hands

I think at times he'd be kinda bold so he'd probably just ask you straight up what you're doing and why you do it

So you'd just end up telling him and then he'd have to get used to it eventually

He really doesn't mind though when you do it he's just not really used to it

More specifically not used to really noticing it, since the members do sometimes play with his hands cough look at Kyungho's cough

So it would probably be an adjustment period because now when you do it he definitely notices and he's just got to get used to you just doing you're thing

He really doesn't mind though when you do it and if he hurts your feelings about it accidentally he'll be sure to apologize and encourages to continue

He still tends to enjoy it and thinks it's a cute habit of yours, but unlike most of the others he just doesn't really pay much attention to it

Unless something really bad happened and you stopped completely for a while, he'll be happy to see you getting back into your habit when you're with him, as a sign that you're getting better

So yeah, still likes it, but doesn't obsess over it really like the others

[heartcal]

“who do you believe?”; l.h. (pt. ii)

oh my GOD it’s here, it took longer than expected but she’s finally here! after the eye strain i got a sty so that threw me in for a loop, but the good news is my eyes are better! and i’m fully vaccinated too! please get the vaccine if you are able to :^) enjoy!

a/n: (formatting again lol) there’s a part where there’s supposed to be texts (in italics) so it may be a bit weird to read (hopefully not) (sorry for these parantheses) please let me know if there’s anything off!

pairing: luke hemmings x reader

summary: having known luke for years, it was bound to happen eventually. the crush you developed happened before you could stop it, and you did your best to keep it a secret. you told no one, did your best not to show it, so what do you do when his girlfriend finds out?

warnings: swearing (as usual), 

genre: angst, fluff, basically friends (to brief enemies but not really) to lovers?

wc: 5,201 (they’re getting longer, huh)

taglist: @1sosrvd1267 + @wowitsel (side note: i don’t have a current taglist, this is just for this fic!)

part one | my masterlist!

You skipped the after-party that night. You couldn’t bear standing in the same room as Luke and Rachel, so you booked a ride and left as soon as the car pulled up.

Had you stayed for the party, you would have crumbled under the looks of pity thrown at you by those who would have heard about what happened. The knowing looks that something bad had happened between two people everyone on the crew knew were best friends would have been uncomfortable.

The ride home is uncomfortably silent, but you were thankful the driver wasn’t the talkative type. The soft jazz playing on the radio wasn’t calming but it did distract you from the pain and embarrassment you felt from the argument.

Once the car had pulled up to your place, you bid a silent farewell to the driver and slid out.

You just wanted to get inside, take a shower, shut your phone for the night, and sleep until you physically can’t get any more sleep.

You’re not too surprised Luke stood up for his girlfriend. He does love her—he’s shown that with friends and with fans. But the way he glared at you, defended her without trying to find out what exactly went down…he had never looked at you like that.

You’ve seen that look before; it wasn’t something you were used to but it was the look he would give paparazzi when they would harass you, the guys, and his friends. The glare carried such strength that it would make people back off. And so when it was directed towards you, it struck you hard.

Having done what you wanted to do once you entered the house, you lay in bed with wet eyes staring at the ceiling. Your phone was face down on your nightstand, completely out of reach to the point one slight touch could knock it off.

Maybe you were the one at fault. Maybe you should’ve told the truth about your feelings to Rachel or Luke before this all happened. It could have prevented the fallout and you would be with the guys and the crew celebrating a successful show.

But what good would that have done? Had you told someone, anyone, that you liked Luke more than a best friend should, would that have caused the same problem but presented differently? Or would something come from it? Maybe nothing would have happened.

A sigh escapes your lips as you turn your back away from the nightstand, facing the empty half of the bed and before your mind drifts to more pitiful thoughts, you close your eyes.

You didn’t dream that night. It’s as if you blinked, with the night flying by faster than you had wanted and anticipated.

The sunlight beamed down on you from above your headboard. It was late morning and it was time to face the harsh reality of the day.

There is no doubt you have lost Luke as your best friend.

Wiping the sleep and crust from your eyes, you sit up and vacantly glance around the room. The box where you keep gifts from Luke is illuminated by the sunlight, and with the vacant stare you stand to walk towards it.

You hesitate to open it; it’ll bring back memories of good times and with the events of the previous night, you do not think you can handle the rush of emotions.

It’s then when you realize your phone was off, and though you don’t want to do anything social today and would rather stay home with your favorite snacks and shows, you know you have to let your friends know how you’re doing.

You stall by washing your face and brushing your teeth, albeit slower than usual. You know that once you turn your phone on, the onslaught of questions and missed calls are going to take possibly an hour to clear up.

Sure enough, as you turn your phone on, the missed messages come in, barely giving your notification tone a break and the missed calls and voicemails were coming in fast. You can feel the heat from the battery on your palm, and for the sake of the phone you switch the sound off and turn on Do Not Disturb to prevent any new calls from coming through.

The messages you saw were from the crew, asking where you went and if you were okay. Others were from the boys minus Luke, and looking through the missed calls, there was nothing from Luke.

You’re not surprised, but the pain was still simmering within and seeing no messages or missed calls from him was adding to it.

You responded to the crew’s messages first, since many of them sent one or two messages asking simple questions: “Are you okay,” “Where did you go,” and “Did you get home safe?”

Then you responded to the boys’, Michael’s first since he had the least amount of messages.

hey, you didn’t have to leave. we could’ve talked some sense into him when he calmed down (11:37pm)

did u get home okay? we know you didn’t drive here yourself. (11:58pm)

please let us know you made it home. let us know you’re okay (12:10am)

hope you made it home and that you’re safe and okay. thank u for ur work today. please text me when you see these. goodnight (12:49am)

You typed your reply to him, letting him know that you were okay and got home safe.

Calum’s messages were similar, asking the same questions but some were repeated to emphasize his worry. In response, you answered his questions like Michael’s.

But even before you can open Ashton’s messages, seeing double digits next to your conversation with him, rapid knocks on your front door grab your attention.

With a groan you stand and grab your robe from the hook on the door, wrapping it tightly around your body as you open the door and groggily walk to the front door.

It was a stupid idea, as you weren’t ready to face anyone yet Ashton stands in front of you. He’s well-rested, a stark contrast to you as you were sure your eyes were still puffy and bloodshot, along with an occasional sniffle from your nose.

His eyes travel from your face, down to your feet, and back up to your eyes. He can immediately tell you had a terrible night.

“You weren’t answering anyone last night,” he begins, tilting his head as he narrows his eyes, “we were worried about you after you left.”

“Yeah,” you sighed, “I just—I didn’t feel like talking to anyone.”

“You could’ve let one of us know that you were shutting off.”

You nodded with a frown, “I could have, yeah,” your eyes dart around behind him to avoid his worrisome eyes before asking him if he wanted to come in.

He doesn’t hesitate and steps in once you move aside, opening the door wider to give him enough room. He notes your bag in a heap on the floor a few inches away from the couch, and how your shoes were far apart, with one upside down, as if you flung them off.

“How are you holding up now?”

You shrug, still avoiding his eyes because you know if you make eye contact, you’ll break down and you won’t have control over the onslaught of emotions.

“Be honest,” his voice is soft, wanting to make you feel comfortable enough to open up.

You stare at the ground, biting the skin of your lower lip nervously. This is why you did not want to talk to anyone face-to-face. Talking to them over the phone, preferably through text, allowed you to lie to the other person (and if applicable, to yourself). But talking to someone in person, and to someone who can see through your lies, you were bound to break down and become vulnerable.

You inhale, taking careful steps to the couch and gently sitting down with a sigh. Ashton follows you, sitting next to you but giving you space to not overwhelm you.

“What happened last night—,” you lean back with your arms folded over your chest, “—was something that I feared. When I realized I liked Luke, I was so worried about him finding out and what the outcome would be. I knew from the beginning that things would never be the same if he found out, and I was afraid of the change that would come from it.”

Ashton listens intently, his eyes displaying sincerity as he listens to you list off your worries. What he saw last night bothered him to no end, and had he not exerted most of his energy during the show, he would not have slept at all and would have stayed up all night in a constant state of worry.

“So, now that Rachel knows, and no doubt Luke has caught on, I don’t know what to do. I responded to everyone’s texts before you arrived, and Luke sent nothing—not even a phone call.”

Ashton nods, swallowing before speaking, “Well, after you left, things went down that may be the reason why he hasn’t tried contacting you.”

Your head turns to face him, eyebrows furrowed as confusion embeds itself across the rest of your features.

Ashton readjusts himself, getting comfortable in his seat as he gathers the right words.

“Something happened after I left?” You ask as you shift in your seat to face him.

“Michael wanted to go after you, to at least offer you a ride back, but Calum went back to tell Luke that it was bullshit what happened. So, Michael went back to make sure they wouldn’t fight or anything. I also pointed out that he was a dick; choosing you over her when he’s known you the longest didn’t sit right with us. But he got defensive and kept wanting to leave but Rachel convinced him it was alright, so they stayed for the party. But the party was bad—the crew felt the tension and the vibes were down—,” he chuckles at the word choice, getting a small laugh out of you as well, “—it brought everyone out of the energetic and ecstatic mood we were in before the confrontation. We all kinda did our own thing during the party but we noticed things were tense between Luke and Rachel. And when the party ended, shit hit the fan.”

“What happened?”

Ashton sighs, “To make the long story short, they got into an argument when we were leaving the venue after Michael brought up your name. He said something like, ‘I hope they got home safe,’ and that you weren’t answering your phone at all. Calum and I pointed out, again, how rude Luke was to you and Luke kept defending himself. Rachel dropped an insult and something shifted. Basically, they’re done and the guys and I can finally fucking breathe.”

“Wait—,” you stand with bulging eyes, “—wait, are you saying they broke up?”

Ashton hums as he watches you mindlessly walk around your living room.

The guys have been waiting for their break-up. It’s not something they were open about, as to avoid any conflict with their best friend, but it was almost an unspoken agreement: Rachel was not liked.

As for you, it’s not like you were wishing for their break-up. You wanted Luke to be happy, and if he was happy in that relationship, then so be it. But you were not a fan of it. Yeah, you liked her in the beginning but when she started disregarding you as if you did something to offend her, you lost most of your respect for her. Now, with this news of their break-up, you don’t know what to do.

Are you happy? You don’t exactly feel happy about it, but there is some relief.

“So,” you sit back down on the couch slowly, “what am I supposed to do with this information?”

“Not sure,” Ashton shrugs, “but I recommend talking to Luke.”

You shake your head fervently, “No. I don’t feel like talking to anyone.”

“But you’re talking to me,” Ashton has a smirk, but you know there’s no malice behind his joke.

“You showed up unannounced, Ash,” you smile, “I was responding to everyone who sent messages and voicemails. I don’t feel like talking to anyone else in person.”

He holds his hands up in defense, “Fair enough, but don’t be a stranger.”

He gives you a quick hug, whispering something similar to ‘don’t shut Luke out’ before he pulls away and walks out.

Ashton’s words stuck with you for the next week. You felt comfortable enough a few days after the fact to contact the boys, eventually meeting up with Ashton and Calum for lunch and third-wheeling Michael and his fiancée. The only person out of your friend group and co-workers you have not contacted was Luke. He hasn’t contacted you either, but you do not think much about it as you’re still trying to figure things out. If he were to contact you, how do you talk about what happened?

You want to know why he was able to choose his then-girlfriend over you, but at the same time you don’t want to know the answer. You know that one day, and though it hurts, you will not be his number one. With the way he behaved that night, it felt like that dreadful moment came to earlier than expected, that he found his number one and you immediately became his second go-to person.

So it did surprise you when you were out with an old friend to receive a text from Luke.

Can we talk about what happened? (2:23pm)

You only stare blankly at the text, not even moving to type a response. You were in such a good mood, and not even this text would change it. Instead, you lock your phone and place it back in your pocket, noting to leave it alone until your day out comes to an end.

And when it does, you see that more texts from Luke had arrived, the final being sent an hour before the outing ended.

I know you’re mad, I understand that and I don’t blame you but please talk to me (2:31pm)

You’re reading these, please say something (2:33pm)

There are some things that I need to clear up with you, I want to apologize for what happened that night but I want to do it face to face. Please respond. (3:57pm)

Whenever you’re ready, I’ll be waiting. Sorry if I’m bombarding you with these texts, I just don’t want to lose you over something that I realize now should not have happened. Respond when you want to, I’ll be here. (5:49pm)

You could only let out a small chuckle at the persistent requests to talk, and you don’t deny the small—minuscule, honestly—flutter in your stomach. You don’t waste any time responding.

Sorry, I was busy. We can meet somewhere to talk. (7:08pm)

He responds about five minutes later, agreeing to meet at a small café the two of you love tomorrow afternoon.

The rest of the night for you is spent thinking of ways to carry yourself, being completely confident, and accepting the fact that you love your best friend. Pep talks in the shower and mirror to calm any arising nerves, revising the topics you want to talk about in your head so you keep the confidence.

As for Luke, he was struggling to gather all his thoughts. In the beginning, he thoroughly enjoyed the fact that you and Rachel got along. He liked seeing his best friend and girlfriend become friends like that. He didn’t notice the shift, however, and he wishes he did before things got out of hand.

When he defended Rachel, without finding out the story from all sides, he thought he was doing what was right. To him, friendships and relationships have the same base, but romantic relationships with a partner have a different structure than friendships do, and he was starting to see cracks in his friendship before he saw it in his relationship.

When he confronted Rachel after she insulted you, he started to see someone he never saw. He remembered the times Rachel ignored you, sometimes playing it off as if she never heard you. He remembered how she would make plans with everyone and exclude you, but he always played it off as an accident (even if he knew it wasn’t). He remembered all these times he noticed a change in mood when the two of you were in the same room, and he couldn’t believe he turned a blind eye to all of it.

It hurt him to break-up with Rachel—he won’t deny that because he did love her. It’s not that he saw the rest of his life with her as they weren’t at that mark in the relationship.

But, when he did picture his future, he always saw you. He always thought it was just as a friend, someone who was just joined at the hip. Yet, he was quick to throw that away for someone he rarely saw when he pictured the future.

Which is why, the next day, as he sits at a booth near the window of the café, he carefully goes over what he wants to say. He doesn’t want to ruin the chance to fix things between the two of you. If it goes awry, not only does he lose you, but his friendships with the band and the team will take a hit since they all love you.

The bell above the door rings making his head turn to watch you walk in. Your eyes danced around the café before they fell on him.

He couldn’t help the smile the formed on his lips, a small breath of relief escaping as he watches you walk towards him. The smile doesn’t stay long though, because as you sit down with a stoic expression, the reality hits him.

“I got your usual,” he’s shy and timid, pushing the mug toward you as he eyes the liquid nearly spills the edge.

You mumble a ‘thanks,’ grabbing the mug and taking a small sip. It falls silent as the two of you wonder who should start first.

Luke makes the move first. He sighs, sitting up straight and wiping his palms on his pants.

He’s nervous. When the guys started touring, visiting new cities and countries, he would always be nervous and constantly wiped his hands on his thighs, sitting up straight and even straighter if he wasn’t slouching. It’s an old habit, but something you remember fondly as he had grown out of it. Or so you thought.

“I want to start with I’m sorry,” he begins, making eye contact but fails to hold it. His eyes instead drift to his drink, “I know what I did was wrong, and I put you in a spot that hurt you and disregarded you. At the moment, I thought I was doing the right thing because she was my girlfriend, but then—” he gulps, “when she insulted you, it struck a nerve and, not to sound cliché or anything, it felt like it opened my eyes. I saw someone I didn’t see when I first met them.”

You don’t respond, just nodding your head to let him know you’re listening.

He licks his lips before continuing, “When the guys brought up how you left on your own, I was feeling nervous and they started reminding me how much of a dick I was to you. I didn’t want to admit it myself, but now, I was such an ass. I’m just—I’m so sorry for what happened.”

“Luke,” you sigh, shifting in your seat, “I’m not saying I forgive you but I accept your apology. It hurt me so much that a friend, someone I’ve known for years was just so quick to turn their back and take someone else’s side. I know she was your girlfriend, but I wish you didn’t do what you did.”

“If I could go back and fix it, I would.”

You only nod again, trying to think about other things that need to be talked about. The one topic you hope to avoid is the possibility of him knowing your feelings—something you do not want to discuss, at least not yet.

“Did she say anything to you?”

The question leaves your mouth before you register it, and the widening of your eyes catches Luke off guard.

“What?”

“Nothing,” you mutter, grabbing your mug and taking a long sip.

“She didn’t tell me what started the problems between you two, if that’s what you mean,” Luke smiles a bit, watching you nervously play with the mug’s handle after the sip. It fades when your eyes move up to meet his, “I don’t know what happened between the two of you, but it isn’t important anymore. She’s out of the picture, and I don’t want to lose you.”

The silence returns, but unlike the previous bout, it’s a calming silence. It isn’t uncomfortable, rather the air is easier to breathe and the tension isn’t unsettling.

“Where do we go from here?” Luke asks, nervously wringing his fingers.

“I don’t want to lose you as a friend, Luke,” you offer a smile, “but it’s going to take some time to ‘heal,’ if you will.”

Luke smiles again, this time a bigger grin. He nods, leaning back in his seat, “Let me know what I can do to make things better. I’ll do it if I get to keep you.”

Over the next few months, your friendship with Luke was rekindled. The guys were at ease now that Rachel was gone and you seemingly had taken her place, even though you were friends. The awkward glances they would give when Rachel was in the same room were now playful rolls of the eyes over a dumb joke or pranks. You didn’t miss out on any outings you wanted to go to, now that everyone invited would check in with each other the night before. Things went back to the way they were before Rachel.

There was a change in your friendship, however. It wasn’t something you noticed right away, but it was something you thought about at night just a few weeks ago. Luke paid more attention to you, not that he didn’t pay attention before, but this was a noticeable change where he still looks at you even after you finished talking, and would only look away from you when you caught him. He would always cover his mouth with his index and middle finger, but you saw a small smile behind them. You played it off as friendly teasing, but it tugs on your heartstrings.

Another noticeable change is the hugs. Duration-wise, they were relatively the same. However the touch lingered; if he wrapped his arms around your shoulders, an arm would stay around your shoulder, meanwhile if they were around your waist, his hand would stay on the small of your back. You played it off as a friend being protective, but yet again, it did nothing to stop your growing love.

Tonight was the first night of their tour. The boys were up to their usual pre-show antics, as well as the nervous habits; Michael fixing his hair and deciding whether to go with a beanie or a hat, or neither, Ashton was warming up with his pre-show playlist, Calum testing his bass, and Luke was relatively fine.

Sure, he was nervous because it isn’t a crowd of 500, close to 20,000, but he was calm compared to the last time he performed. He didn’t have any worries to talk about, his vocal warm-ups were smooth, and getting dressed up was a breeze. He shared chuckles with you as you both watched the others move around with tense expressions (all with no malice, of course).

“You sure you’re not on edge?” you nudge Luke with your arm as he leans forward on the couch your sitting on to fix his shoe.

“Nope,” he sits up, leaning back in his seat.

“Really?” you inquire again, doubt laced in your tone with a hint of teasing.

“Yeah,” he chuckles, “if anything I’m excited about tonight.”

You hum, crossing your arms as you watch Ashton walk over.

“Ten minutes left,” he nods at Luke before walking to Michael to tell him the same thing.

You give Luke a look, wanting to get him to admit he is nervous, but all you get is a smirk and a shrug. He stands, patting your shoulder left before walking away to put in his in-ears.

You won’t deny you still don’t have feelings for him. Throughout the past few months, you were able to pinpoint the reasons why you fell for him. The small acts, the obscure things he would remember about you—especially the ones you don’t remember yourself—with the attention he would give you. It was staring you in the face, but you chose to deny all the signals to give yourself the satisfaction of thinking it was just a phase. But now you know why you love him.

Two minutes until showtime, Ashton finishes his speech and the crew is taking their places. The band stands at the opening, waiting for their cue to head out.

As you watched them hype themselves up, you noticed Luke looking around nervously. Of course.

“Nervous?”

His head whips toward you, and you can see it in his eyes.

“A little,” he mumbles, but you don’t hear it over the crowd’s excited screams.

“You got this,” you grab his shoulders to make him look you in the eyes, “like Ash said, you guys worked your asses off for this album. The fans loved it, your shows are all sold out, and you have thousands out there waiting to see you kill it.”

He’s silent, blue eyes staring into yours as they bounce from one eye to the other.

“I love you,” he blurts, loud enough just for you to hear.

You freeze, the grip on his shoulder loosens but remain.

He notices, “She did tell me something that night, and whether or not it’s true, I-I love you.”

“Sixty seconds!” a stage recites in the earpieces.

The boys turn to look at both of you, curious eyes turn into surprise as they watch your expression.

“I don’t know how long, I don’t know when, and I don’t know what it was, but I know for sure.”

Your eyes glance at Ashton briefly, not missing the knowing smile he gives you before you look back into Luke’s eyes.

“I…love you, too,” you respond, gripping his shoulders while your eyes drop down to his shiny shoes.

He doesn’t hear you over the cheers and screams, but reading your lips he knows the answer.

Luke smiles, grabbing the back of your head and kissing your forehead.

He leans down to your ear, “I expect to hear you say it when I come back.”

With flashing lights scattering across the stage, the boys run out to the stage, big smiles gracing their faces for multiple reasons with adrenaline pumping through their veins. From backstage, you watch the show you a smile, feeling high from the brief but fulfilling confession.

It’s two hours later when the show ends. Your heart is pounding as you watch the crew celebrate the successful first show.

Luke pulls you away from the crowd, into the hallway and away from the noise.

“So it was true, what Rachel said?” Luke begins, his hand still holding yours as a shy smile forms.

“What did she say?”

He exhales air through his nose in a laugh, “She said you were in love with me, and that you were trying to break us up.”

You scoff, shaking your head as you look at your intertwined fingers. He squeezes your hand to get your attention.

“I doubt that last part, but the first part I’m hoping is true in a sense.”

Your eyes meet his, adoration swimming in them bringing a smile to your face, “There may be a strong crush I have on you,” you tease, “and it may or may not have turned into love.”

He laughs, letting go of your hand to wrap you in a hug. His head dips down, his forehead on your shoulder as he breathes in your scent. He moves slightly, whispering in your ear, “Say it.”

Your head rested against his chest, hearing his heart beat rapidly and rhythmically.

“I love you,” you whisper.

You feel him smile against your shoulder before he pulls away, his arms resting on your hips as he smiles down at you.

“If you’d like,” he begins, his tone timid now, “that place you like in Seattle has a new dish. It’s our next stop…” he drifts off, hoping you’d catch on to him asking you out.

You do, laughing at how he remembered yet another thing you seem to have forgotten. It was a themed restaurant that had some of the best food you’ve ever eaten, and for days you wouldn’t stop talking about it. But you never went back to it, even during breaks, but somehow he seemed to remember.

“Yes, Luke.”

You know the shock will hit you later that night, that finally the person you’ve fallen for, who happens to be your best friend, admitted his feelings to you. But you’re happy, Luke’s happy, and with the boys’ and crew’s reaction to the two of you walking back to the area where they’re celebrating, the happiness is infectious.

On the road in the tour bus, Ashton passes you as you respond to emails.

“Thanks for not shutting him out,” he says, drinking a small bottle of water from the fridge.

“Did you know?”

He shrugs, avoiding your eyes as he finishes the bottle and tosses it in the recycling bag. “Maybe,” he walks towards the back where the beds are, “maybe not.”

You shake your head, “You did.”

“Didn’t want to spoil it,” he gives you a quick hug before retreating to bed.

Luke walks out of the bathroom shortly after, taking his spot next to you.

“Go to bed,” you slightly shift your shoulder as he lays his head on it, “you need the rest.”

“No,” he mumbles, sleep lacing his tone, “feels like a dream. Don’t wanna wake up.”

You chuckle at his nonsense, finishing off the last email before shutting the laptop and placing it on the counter next to you. You adjust yourself on the couch to have Luke lay down with you. He readjusts himself so he doesn’t crush you, wrapping his arm around your waist and placing his head on your chest.

“I wish I had known before all the drama,” he mumbles again, eyes closed, “I want you in my life, always.”

He drifts off to sleep with that, a faint smile on his lips.

You know what made you fall in love with your best friend. You accept it now, and you’re at peace knowing the feeling is mutual.

[too-gay-for-marvel]

one of us

a/n: I LIVE! listen. listen. yall know me well enough at this point to know that i make no promises about posting more stuff. i might post something in a few months. maybe next week. lets spin the wheel of fate and see what happens, shall we?

Request:  hi!! do you think you could write a prequel of sorts to i don’t need a hero? it’s one of my absolute favorites and i was wondering if you could write something angsty for the mission where the reader gets shot protecting wanda? <33 thank you!!

Word Count: 2546

Warnings: swearing, canon-typical violence

Pairing: Wanda x Reader

She hated you.

Wanda Maximoff absolutely, unquestionably, without a doubt hated you. There was not a single thing about you that she didn’t hate, from the stupid cocky look on your face to the way you refused to be of any help. You were supposed to be an ally now, not a nuisance.

And yet there you were.

Sitting across from her at the table and shooting her a look that made her want nothing more than to throw some magic right at your face. If she was lucky then maybe it would even knock you on your ass and she could wipe that stupid smirk from your face. It would almost make this meeting with you worth all the hassle.

“Does everyone understand their jobs?” Maria asked, bringing Wanda back to the table and forcing her to pay attention.

“Blow shit up and have fun doing it?” You asked even though that most certainly wasn’t your job and you knew it.

Don’t let them out of your sight. Maria’s voice rang in Wanda’s mind and, after a silent look, she gave a nod of affirmation. It didn’t seem as if you had noticed, and that gave Wanda a feeling of superiority. Technically it wasn’t a competition, and she already knew she was better than you, but to know that she could scheme about you in front of your face was something that gave her more joy than she would ever openly admit.

The meeting concluded without a hitch. You had even admitted - rather begrudgingly - that you were to do nothing other than keep the attention off of Wanda and Sam. In Wanda’s mind, that was a good start; you usually argued until you were blue in the face.

But with you agreeing, all Wanda had to really worry about was the upcoming mission. And whether you would keep to your word or not.

----------

By all accounts, and much to Wanda’s and Sam’s surprise, the mission had been going well. You had launched fireworks on one end of the building to cause a commotion while they had snuck in through the back. She had used her powers to distract the few guards left inside, and within minutes they had found what they were looking for.

In fact, the mission had been going so well that Wanda had been on the verge of asking if you were okay. There was no way you could have behaved for as long as you had, not without a proper motivation. But right as Wanda had lifted her hand to start her comms, an unusually loud explosion sounded off, quickly followed by guards running and yelling.

Heading in their direction.

“I knew it was too good to be true,” Wanda mumbled to herself.

Only seconds after Wanda had muttered her lack of surprise at the situation, the same guards she had heard appeared in the hallway behind them. Directly between them and their exit.

Of course, she heard Sam think. Very loudly.

It turned, very quickly, into an all-out brawl. Unlike you, they didn’t exactly aim to kill; if it was avoidable then they would. But that didn’t mean there weren’t still plenty of bodies lying on the ground, continuously making it harder and harder for them to leave.

“To the roof,” Sam ordered during a short lull in the fighting. “We can get an emergency evac from there.”

And before Wanda knew it, they were once again fighting and trying to make their way up the stairs. It wasn’t the most difficult thing in the world, not with her powers and Red Wing. But that didn’t mean it was easy either.

“Leaving already?” You asked over the comms, causing both Wanda and Sam to roll their eyes at the lack of seriousness in your tone.

“Just get to the roof,” Sam replied shortly, refusing to say anymore on the matter.

“When I’m ready.”

Wanda swore if she hadn’t promised Bucky not to kill you, she would have done it then and there.

It didn’t take long after that for Wanda and Sam to make it to the roof. He told her he was going to fly around and scope a potential landing, and Wanda agreed to hold down the fort until he came back. They both ignored the fact that you were nowhere to be found.

In typical Avengers fashion, the guards came back not long after Sam had left her alone. She wished she could have been surprised, but when it happens nearly every time, it loses it’s shock factor.

But this one was worse than usual; Wanda was, unfortunately, feeling overwhelmed. She knew the horde would run out of bodies eventually, but would that happen before or after Sam showed up? She had no clue, and that was something that terrified her.

Needless to say, she got her answer when an entire army made it up to the roof.

“That’s my cue,” your voice came over the comms, a little too cheery for the situation, but Wanda wasn’t going to answer. At that moment, she hoped you burned along with the rest of them.

An explosion rocked the building underneath her feet, sending more panic racing through her veins. Fucking idiot, she thought, you’re going to destroy the building with us still in it! More explosions followed suit.

“You’d better hurry, Sam, Y/N is gonna blow the building,” Wanda spoke clearly, but rushed. As terrified as she was, she knew it would do no good if Sam didn’t even understand her.

“Just a bit longer, I’m almost there.” She didn’t like that Sam sounded more panicked than her.

“Need a hand?” Your voice came through again, but it was drowned out by a roar that grew increasingly louder.

It was a missile. A missile that was going to hit the roof. The roof that she was standing on.

“Just move!”

Wanda was too transfixed by the missile heading her way to notice someone running toward her. Someone who quickly wrapped their arms around her waist. Her body tensed as her feet were lifted off the ground and she was suddenly launched off the side of the building right as the missile hit the spot where she had previously been standing.

Wind rushed past her ears, along with something that sounded like a scream. She couldn’t tell who it was coming from. The trip to the ground took only a moment, but felt like it was never going to end. Well, not until she forcefully met the ground, that is. The air was knocked out of her lungs and the person on top of her didn’t help.

“Get off me,” she grunted as she pushed the person off and sat up. Only when she was up did she notice it was you, new scratches on your face and blood dripping down your ears.

“You stupid Avengers, always in the way,” you mumbled just loud enough for Wanda to hear. Or maybe it was just muffled because of the deafening ringing in her ears.

“What the hell were you thinking?” Wanda shouted, pushing herself onto her feet and watching as you did the same.

“What do you mean, what was I thinking?” You shot back. “You were the one who didn’t move!”

“I didn’t need your help.”

“You almost got hit! By a missile!”

“And yet you were the one who launched it!” Wanda stepped forward, her finger jabbing into your chest as she talked.

“I saved your life!” You shouted back, throwing your hands up in indignation.

“You pushed me off a building!”

“Don’t criticise me! No one else was helping!”

“I didn’t need help from some wannabe hero!”

“I’m not trying to-” you were cut off by the sound of a gun, and your eyes widening. You both looked down to see a dark red spot near your hip, growing larger by the second.

You hit the ground before she could catch you.

Wanda looked past you to see one lone guard, his shirt still on fire and his skin singed beyond recognition. His arm was still up, gun pointed where you had previously been standing. She didn’t have to bother with finishing him; he collapsed, his body slowly burning.

She crouched down immediately, her hand moving to the spot on your hip. Her hands went to press on it; something she had learned from Maria and Natasha, something she hadn’t thought she would ever really need to know.

You groaned ever so slightly when she pressed harder, but aside from that you were silent and still.

“Coming in hot,” Sam said. She didn’t bother looking up, but felt the wind from Sam and the evac landing behind her.

Sam was quick in assessing the damage. He picked you up and carried you to the quinjet, getting you stabilised for the trip back. Wanda thanked the gods that it would be a short trip.

She hoped you would be okay.

----------

Technically, it wasn’t the worst injury someone had come back from a mission with. Tony always came back with multiple contusions, sometimes broken bones if he had been careless. Natasha and Clint were always a mess, having been absorbed in trying to keep the other safe. Hell, you had come back with worse injuries.

So why this one had taken so much out of you, Wanda had no idea. All she knew was that it had been four days and you were still unconscious. Even the doctors couldn’t understand why you hadn’t woken up. Sure, trauma could keep someone in a coma, but you had seen much worse. So why this one?

“Time for food.”

Bless that man.

Wanda looked up from her book to see Clint leaning in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest. A signature look for him, she realised. But she noticed, strangely enough, that he did not come with food. Extremely rude.

“Making me scavenge for myself now?” Wanda teased as she closed her book.

“You could say that,” Clint shrugged. “You gotta get out of here for a few hours, Wanda.”

So that was his purpose.

“Not yet,” she answered simply.

“They haven’t woken up yet, won’t wake up while you’re gone.”

“You don’t know that-”

“-Wanda,” Clint interrupted, “they’re not waking up. Get some food, take a shower, maybe a nap. It’ll be fine.”

She looked over to you and just stared. Your face hadn’t really changed since they had gotten you back to SHIELD. No sounds, no movement, nothing. Maybe there was a new crinkle between your brows, but nothing to really indicate you were going to wake up. No matter how much she wanted you to.

Damn you for making her worry about you of all people.

And damn Clint for being right.

“Two hours.”

“Make it five,” Clint shot back, a smile tugging at his lips.

“Three.”

“Four.”

Damn him.

“Fine. Four. But not a minute more,” Wanda sighed. But, and she hated to admit this, Clint was right; she needed some time to recover. She hadn’t even left herself recover from the mission, instead coming straight to the medical ward with you.

Clint nodded once and waited for her to leave before heading into your room. Sweet of him to take her place while she was resting. It would at least give her some respite to know that someone was watching you while she was gone. Now she just needed to take care of herself and get back.

Well. Maybe after a bath.

----------

“Wanda wake up!”

Not the best way for anyone to wake up from a nap.

Wanda shot up out of bed and tried to blink the sleep out of her eyes. She was sure she looked like an absolute mess, and she could feel the knots in her hair. Oh god she felt terrible. Two hours was not enough time for a recovery nap. They better have a good reason for waking her up.

“Good, you’re up,” Clint huffed from the doorway. “Y/N’s gone.”

Okay. Pretty good reason.

She didn’t bother brushing her hair; didn’t even bother changing into clean clothes. It was fine though, she had slept in her mission clothes anyway. What was one more day, right? Besides, it gave her a bit of comfort that she at least wouldn’t be running through the hallways half-naked.

It was, for lack of a better word, pandemonium in the halls. The assumption was that everyone was looking for you; and that assumption was correct. If you hadn’t been such a damn nuisance to SHIELD in the past, maybe they would’ve just let you go.

So really, this was all your fault.

But that didn’t stop Wanda from making her way to where she felt she knew you had gone. There was no proof, but it was a feeling. A feeling that was similar to when she had known whenever Pietro had gotten into trouble. Not quite as strong, because nothing could beat twintuition, but it was still there.

And it was right.

Wanda didn’t know what to really expect you to look like after a few days of rest. But you looked a mess sitting in the dark cell. You were still in your hospital gown, and the gauze was still wrapped around whatever wounds you had sustained. The worst part? You sat curled up in the corner.

“Y/N?” Wanda stepped closer to the cell, but was met with a beeping sound that she was terrifyingly familiar with.

A proximity bomb.

She jumped back and waited for the explosion that never came. Instead, the beeping stopped, and you continued to sit in the corner. Her eyes searched for the bomb, but she knew she wouldn’t be able to find it. If you had hidden it, then you would be the only one who could get to it.

“Everyone is looking for you,” Wanda whispered, just loud enough for you to hear.

“Leave me alone.” Your voice was hoarse, and you let out a series of painful-sounding coughs.

“They’re worried about you.”

“They can worry about themselves,” you shot back, “I’m fine.”

“Y/N,” Wanda urged. She didn’t like seeing you like this. She hadn’t cared for you much, hadn’t even liked you, but this… this wasn’t you. “What happened?”

And then you turned. She could see the bruises on your face, the bags under your eyes, a look on your face that she couldn’t quite place. But your eyes… your eyes pierced through her soul in a way she hadn’t thought possible.

“You fucking heroes happened,” you replied, your eyes never leaving hers. “Couldn’t fucking leave well enough alone, had to bring me into all this fucking mess.”

“Y/N-”

“You wanted me in this fucking cell, now I’m here.” Wanda could tell you were running out of breath. “So leave me the fuck alone.”

With that you turned and stared back at the wall, your back to her. She couldn’t go to you, couldn’t help you. That bomb of yours would blow the both of you up if she got closer. And she just knew you were finished talking to her. You had made your decision, and she would just have to accept it. It seemed the team was right.

You would never be one of them.

[songficsbyrissi]

You’re Mines Still (Erik X Reader)

“They say time heals She can't see her life without me, she's so blind still Fuck that nigga, you can tell him that you're mines still” - Yung Bleu feat. Drake

A/N: heyyyy y’all! Back from the dead again! 🤣 here to drop my shit and dip as always. I’m trying to stop that, I swear. Hennyways, I wanna put a disclaimer here: I have nothing against MBJ. I couldn’t care less about the nigga but I thought it’ll be interesting to have this nigga as the boyfriend, instead of making a character up in contrast to Erik. I think it’s perfect because I’m pretty sure they’re two completely different niggas. And I know “mines” isn’t proper English but I’m going with the title of the song so don’t start with me 😂😂😂 Aight imma let y’all read lol. Hope you enjoy it!

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

You were doing it again.

You found yourself observing your boyfriend Michael, and comparing him to your ex, Erik. Right now, Michael came into the kitchen and gave you a swift kiss on the cheek to say good morning. It was sweet and nice but Erik would’ve grabbed you by the waist, pulled you in for a long, juicy kiss, followed by a smack on the ass. You found yourself low-key missing that, but you moved on so you had to let that go.

“Michael?”

“Yes, cookie?”

You held yourself back from rolling your eyes. It was a cute nickname, but ever since you told him your favorite dessert was chocolate chip cookies, here this nigga go, making it your nickname.

You shook your head. “Never mind.”

“You seem so distant, babe. What’s on your mind?” He asked from his seat at the table.

You avoided eye contact with him. “Nothing. I’ve just been tired.”

He snorted at this. “It’s because you work too much. I told you to chill.” He got up from the table and kissed you on the cheek. “Alright, I’ll see you later. I gotta go to the office.”

“Bye.” You said faintly as he walked out of the door. That was another thing. Erik could tell when something was bothering you and knew you avoided eye contact when you were lying. Michael just let anything you tell him slide. At this point, you could have a gunshot wound in your stomach and tell him you were fine and he’ll believe it.

You sighed deeply and got your things together so you could go back to your place. Michael asked you to move in with him, but you knew you weren’t ready for that. Not with him.

On your way to your apartment, you remembered you needed to do some grocery shopping, so you pulled up to the supermarket and pulled out your list of essentials on your notes app. The supermarket wasn’t too busy, thank God. You were able to weave back and forth through the aisles with ease. You got to the soup aisle and the broth you needed was all the way on the top shelf. You looked to the side to make sure no one would see you embarrass yourself. Before you could climb, a man’s arm reached up, grabbed the carton of broth, and handed it to you.

You smiled softly. “Thank you so much. I was about to embarrass myself climbing this shelf.”

“I could see that.” The man replied in a familiar voice that caused you to break your neck to look at him.

“Erik....” you breathed nervously once your eyes fell on him. He was still fine as always. The day you run into him, he would be wearing a white t-shirt and grey sweatpants. An outfit that gets any girl’s faucet running. You wanted to sneak a glance, but you stopped yourself because you knew he would catch it.

He licked his bottom lip and looked you up and down. Damn him.

“Hey ma...it’s been a while.”

You nodded, looking down at your shopping cart. “Yeah, it has....”

“You still fine as hell.” Erik cracked a smirk and you were getting more and more nervous under his gaze. What the fuck is wrong with you?

You decided to breathe and ignore his statement. “How have you been, Erik?”

He rubbed the back of his neck, which something he always did when he was nervous. Holy shit, he was nervous around you. Why did that bring a pang of joy into your heart?

“I’ve been chilling. I'm still an architect. Still designing houses and getting people to buy them. It’s been aight. I’ve been successful.”

You gave him a genuine smile. “That’s good. I’m glad everything is going good in your career.”

“Yeah, it is. If only you were with me to see it all.”

You sighed deeply, shaking your head. “Erik-“

“I should’ve never let you go, Y/N. You were a good ass woman and you motivated me. I know I messed up but-“

“Erik, I’m kinda seeing someone else right now.” You spat out, preventing him from continuing the monologue he had going. He seemed taken aback by your outburst. Then came denial, anger, sadness, and acceptance all on his face.

“I’m sorry, Erik but I have a new boyfriend now. His name is Michael and he’s great. I figured you should know that.”

Erik let out a dry laugh in response and held his hands up in defense. “Yeah, you know what? I should’ve. A woman like you, of course, a nigga gonna snatch you up. That’s my fault. I hope he treats you well.”

“He does.” You swallowed hard and pushed your cart forward. “You take care of yourself, Erik. I’ll see you around.”

You didn’t wait for a reply. You just continued pushing until you heard his voice.

“You too, Princess.”

You stopped in your tracks for a bit, hearing that nickname for the first time in forever but you continued on your journey, refusing to look back at your ex.

You wrapped up your grocery store trip and went home. Even while you were cooking for your new man, Erik was still on your mind. You couldn’t help but think about all the times you had with him. One memory came back to you and you cringed. The night you two broke up.

“All you can think about are these damn houses! What about our house, Erik?!?!” You screamed coming closer to him, with your fists clenched. “What about all the shit you promised me?!”

“You’re still getting it, Princess! I promise!” He tried to pull you in a hug, but you pushed him away. All you saw was red. You didn’t want him touching you. You stuck a finger in his face.

“Bullshit! I’m tired of your empty-ass promises! I’m better than this! I’m better just being your damn girlfriend for all these years! It’s either you’re wanna be with me forever or you don’t! It’s that simple!”

Erik gathered up all the anger building to yell back. “No! It ain’t that simple! You just don’t get it.” Your angry demeanor softened at his words and you took a seat on the leather sofa. You wanted to cry because this shit was so fucking frustrating. You looked up at him with all the sincerity you could muster.

“Help me get it, Erik. Please. Because I just don’t.”

Erik took your trembling hands into his larger hands. “I just...I just don’t see myself as your husband right now. I got a lot of shit to work out before I can make that type of commitment to you, ma. I just need you to understand that and stick with me. I’m not saying it’s never going to happen. I’m just saying now’s not the right time.”

As much as you tried to prevent it, it happened. Tears were rolling down your cheeks. Erik began wiping them off, but you backed away.

“You keep saying that. When is the right time, huh? When?” You asked then sneered once you saw that once again, he couldn’t supply you an answer. “Just admit it, Erik. You don’t want to marry me. You don’t want to get a house with me, you don’t want to have kids with me. You don’t...” you swallowed hard, trying to find the strength to say this. “You don’t want forever with me. Now I get it.”

Erik shook his head vigorously as you rose from the sofa and he grabbed your hand. “No, baby girl! You’re not getting it! I love you! I love you so much! Please!”

You used your free hand to wipe some more of your tears. “You don’t love me the way I love you, Erik. I’ve been dying to be your wife, but you don’t want to be my husband. So I’m not gonna waste time with you when I can find someone who will.”

You released yourself from the grip he had on you, both figuratively and literally, and packed all your shit up. Despite the protests and guilt-tripping coming from Erik, you still made it your mission to get the fuck out of his apartment and get the fuck out of his life.

After mourning and healing from the loss of your long-term relationship, you met Michael. He was a nice man who looked similar to Erik but was completely different, personality-wise. Your friends noticed how much Michael looked like Erik, but they decided not to bring it up because they knew you would deny it. You were in denial, convinced it was all a coincidence. Deep down, you knew damn well he looked like Erik.

However, he was nothing like him and you thought that would work out in your favor. It didn’t.

You laid wide awake in Michael’s bed. He fell asleep after one round of sex and you were not satisfied. The sex was good, but one round??? Erik used to go at least 3 a night. Erik also would spoon, but Michael was turned away from you, snoring away. Your phone buzzed on your nightstand and you picked it up to see a text from your ex. You sat up in shock and opened it.

Erik:

Ik I shouldn’t b but I can’t stop thinkin bout u. I never stopped.

You took a deep breath and fixed your thumbs to respond.

You:

I’m with someone else, Erik. U gotta respect that.

Erik:

I do I just don’t like it. Can we at least be friends?

You contemplated your answer, then constructed a text back.

You:

Fine. We’ll be friends.

Erik:

With benefits? 👀

This caused you to stifle a laugh that would’ve been loud enough to wake up your boyfriend.

You:

Lmao no! Just friends, Erik.

Erik:

Lol I’ll take what I can get. Good night, Princess ❤️

After that last text, you were smiling yourself to sleep. It didn’t take long for Erik to invite you to group outings with mutual friends to eventually just you and him. It felt wrong but felt so right at the same time. You were alone in Michael’s apartment once again when Erik hit you up asking if you would like to see a house he built that was being pulled off the market. You agreed since you had nothing else to do. It’s just a house.

Needless to say, The house was gorgeous.

“Shittttt look at this fucking closet!” You cooed, entering the large walk-in closet in the master bedroom, and turned around to look at Erik with an enormous smile on your face. “Erik! You did that shit! This is my dream house! If I had the money, I would buy it right now!”

Erik chuckled with his arms folded. “It’s already bought, Princess.”

You scrunched up your face in disappointment as you stood against the marble island table in the middle of the room. “Ughh for real? I bet they don’t even like it like that!”

“Nah...I do.” He walked up to you slowly.

It didn’t click for your slow ass what he just said. “Of course you like it. You designed it.”

“Nah, we designed it.”

A record scratch went off in your head and you turned to see Erik right next to you. You gazed into his eyes to see an emotion you couldn’t describe. He saw confusion in yours.

“You ain’t noticed how this house is exactly your dream house? Everything you wanted in a house is right here. Baby girl, after you left me, all I could think about you and us and how I fucked us up. I was designing other houses and buildings, but there’s one that was most important to me that I never focused on and that was ours. I remembered our discussions and you didn’t know it, but I took notes of everything we wanted in a house. I finally had the motivation to get it designed, built, and bought.”

Erik built a house for you. He actually listened to you. Even when you thought he wasn’t, he was listening to every detail of what you wanted. You had so many questions to ask, but you were speechless. What were you supposed to say to this?

“I don’t want you to think I was on some creepy nigga shit because I wasn’t. It’s just that this design was gonna go to waste and I was going to let them sell it to the highest bidder, but I just couldn’t. This house was the last piece of you I had left. If I sold it, it was like me officially giving up on the possibility of us. I still had that hope. I’m a stupid ass nigga, I know.”

Your right hand grasped his left hand and he finally spared you a glance to see unshed tears in your eyes.

“I wanted this....from you....for so long. For so long! Why are you giving it to me now?! When I have someone else?!” You threw his hand out of frustration and exited the closet. You didn’t make it far. You just went into the master bedroom and cried your eyes out. You waited so long for this and he’s giving it to you now? When Michael was in the picture? Well, It’s too damn late.

Erik got on his knees and grasped your knees. You stared at him through the tears in your eyes.

“I know you’re building a life with this nigga, but stop. Stop that shit. You know he ain’t the one for you. Fuck that nigga. You’re mines still.” Erik was pleading with you. He began to shed a tear. Holy shit, he meant every word. “Baby, I’m on my knees. Take me back.”

Your ex began planting tender kisses on your knees and traveled up to your thighs, still holding you. Your heart raced at his actions, but you didn’t want him to stop. You missed him. You missed him so damn much. As much as you tried to lie to yourself, you still loved him.

“Erik, get up.”

He obeyed and you took his face in your hands, caressing the sides.

“You’re such a fucking manipulative motherfucker and I hate that I love you so fucking much.”

Erik took your hands into his and kissed the insides. “I ain’t trying to manipulate you, baby. I swear I’m not. I love you and I just wanted you to know that I heard you. You just wanted a nigga to show you that he was serious about you. I get it. While you were gone, I focused on myself and fixed myself because I admit I was dragging my ass with doing that while we were together. It was because I thought you were here to stay so I had all the time in the world to get my shit together. When you left, I saw that I was wrong. I was wrong as fuck.”

You didn’t say anything. You just let him keep talking.

“I love you, baby. All I’m asking for is a second chance to make this right, but if you say no, I’ll sell this house and leave you alone for good. I swear on my Pops’ grave, I’ll leave you the fuck alone, Y/N.” His words were so heartfelt. “I don’t wanna go unless you make me.”

You were hyperventilating through your tears, then a smile formed across your face. “Erik, I love you. I love you so much, baby.”

Erik tackled you with frequent kisses on your lips and it turned into a whole passionate make-out session. He planted kisses all over your neck while he unbuttoned your blouse and you could feel his hard dick through his pants.

“Fuck. I missed this. I missed us.” You breathed when his lips met yours, once again.

“I missed us too, baby.” Erik rested his forehead against yours and stared into your eyes with so much love. “Be my wife.”

You backed away from him and furrowed your eyebrows. “What?”

“You heard me. Marry me, baby. I don’t wanna waste any more time.” He saw the look on your face and his joyful expression turned somber. “You don’t want to marry me?”

You shook your head. “It’s not that, Erik. I always wanted to but just because we getting back together doesn’t mean I wanna rush into a marriage. We gotta fix us first. We can’t even fix us right now because I still have to break up with Michael.”

Erik put a hand through his hands and blew air out of his mouth. “You right.”

“And the way you asked sucked.” You deadpanned but found yourself laughing afterward and he face palmed himself. “Seriously? After all this time, I deserve a better proposal than that.”

Erik chuckled and placed a soft kiss on your lips. “You right. Once again. Imma do better.”

And when he said he would do better, you knew he wasn’t just talking about the proposal.

“You better. I ain’t giving you a third chance. This ain’t baseball!”

This caused him to guffaw, pull you into a tight, loving embrace, and kissed you once again. He had a grin on his face that rivaled the Cheshire cat.

“You’re mines still,” Erik said as a statement and a question.

“Yep. I never stopped being yours, baby boy.”

TAGS:  @lifelover4u @dessianna1 @brattywriters-anonymous @marvelmaree​ @purple-apricots​ @blackpinup22 @ljstraightnochaser @slimmiyagi @cancerianprincess @iamrheaspeaks @blowmymbackout @vibranium-chakra @nerd-lovely @chaneajoyyy​ @ohliyaxoxo @chefjessypooh @yourfavoritefavorite @airis-paris14 @ljstraightnochaser @quietstorm-73 @msincognito67 @sociallyawkward18 @mychemicalimagines @nerd-lovely @marvelpotterlove   @destinio1 @madamslayyy @thehomierobbstark @fd-writes​ @semianta​ @raysunshine78​  @lifelover4u @dessianna1 @brattywriters-anonymous @marvelpotterlove @guccixcucci​ @blackpinup22 @ljstraightnochaser @slimmiyagi @cancerianprincess @iamrheaspeaks @blowmymbackout @vibranium-chakra @nerd-lovely @chaneajoyyy​ @ohliyaxoxo @chefjessypooh @yourfavoritefavorite @airis-paris14 @ljstraightnochaser @quietstorm-73 @msincognito67 @sociallyawkward18 @mychemicalimagines @nerd-lovely @marvelpotterlove   @destinio1 @madamslayyy @thehomierobbstark @fd-writes​ @semianta​ @raysunshine78​ @fd-writes​ @rbhp @fandom-fangirl22​ @bigchoose​

(Sorry if you got double tagged or I missed you. I need to get my tags together I know )

[hotshotsxyz]

would you love me for the hell of it?

buddie (2.4k) (read it on AO3)

As stupid as it seems now, Eddie always thought they’d have more time.

He should know better. If the bullet wounds that riddle his body weren’t evidence enough, the scarring that he knows twists across Buck’s leg should have been. It wasn’t, though. Despite everything they’d been through, Eddie always thought they’d have enough time.

Now, though, as he opens the door to find Buck already standing in front of it, he knows they’ve finally run out. Eddie draws him into a hug without a second thought. There’s no space left for pretenses.

“I didn’t even knock,” Buck says into his shoulder. Eddie can hear the unsteadiness in his voice and it breaks his heart all over again. None of it was supposed to happen like this.

“I was coming to find you,” Eddie says thickly. “You weren’t answering your phone.”

“I couldn’t stop checking the time, so I turned it off,” Buck admits. “I’m sorry.”

Eddie let’s go of Buck, but only long enough to grab his hand and pull him inside. “It’s okay,” Eddie says softly. “I get it.” And he does, god he does. He’d unplugged the microwave hours ago, just so he didn’t have to see its mocking green numbers staring back at him.

“Buck!” Christopher exclaims from the living room floor.

“Hey, buddy!” Buck says, crouching next to him. It amazes Eddie that, even now, Buck manages to exude the bright, beautiful energy he always has in front of Christopher. He kind of loves him for it.

It’s not the first time Eddie’s had the thought, but it might be the first time that he has no urge to run from it or to push it down until he can put Buck neatly back into the best friend slot he’d occupied in Eddie’s mind for so long. What’s the point in all that now? Whatever he’d been afraid of losing, there’s a countdown on all of it now.

Christopher’s explaining his drawing in detail to Buck, and it makes Eddie’s heart ache. Sure, Chris has been growing like a weed lately, but Eddie’d figured he had a year or two left of this at least.

Maybe time has always been the enemy, and he’s just the last one to work it out.

Thank god for Buck. As much as it hurts, knowing with certainty now just how good Buck is at pretending to be okay, Eddie can’t help but be grateful for Chris’s sake. He sits down on the couch next to them and puts his hand on Buck’s shoulder, just because he can. Buck looks up at him questioningly, and Eddie offers him a small smile. Buck nods and smiles back, but Eddie can read the sadness there.

“Can we watch a movie?” Chris asks eventually.

“Yeah, mijo, pick one out,” Eddie says, opening the Netflix app on the TV and handing Christopher the remote. “Me and Buck will make snacks.”

He stands, knowing Buck will follow.

In the kitchen, Eddie allows his facade to crack, just a little. He rests his head tiredly against Buck’s shoulder, smiling a little when Buck’s arms automatically encircle him.

“I thought you’d be with Maddie,” he says softly.

Eddie feels Buck shake his head and swallow. “I saw her, Chim, and Jee this morning. But I needed -- god, Eddie, you have to know.”

Eddie pulls back and looks Buck in the eye. He sees love reflected there, just like he always has. “I do,” he says softly. “Me too.”

Buck lets out a wounded noise and pulls Eddie back into the embrace.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Eddie whispers, eyes burning with unshed tears.

“No place I’d rather be for the end of the world,” Buck jokes weakly. His hands tremble against Eddie’s back.

None of it was supposed to happen like this. The comet was supposed to pass close enough to Earth to be a spectacular show for anyone in the Eastern hemisphere, then continue its way around the sun and back out into the Kuiper belt. Hell, Chris has been excited about it, Buck too. They’d been talking about it for months, Buck helping Christopher learn everything he could about where comets came from and what they were made of.

And then something happened. Eddie doesn’t really understand it, but he keeps hearing words like dark matter and quantum mechanical black hole and gravity wells. The gist of it, though, Eddie gets. Something changed the path of the comet, and instead of passing them by harmlessly, it’s now on a collision course. The entire world got less than two week’s warning.

The comet is something like eleven miles wide, he’d heard on the radio. Large enough for an extinction-level event, Buck had told him quietly.

He knows that there are people around the world frantically working to prevent that. He also knows that the odds are bleak. It all came down to time, all over again. There wasn’t enough. There never is.

“Am I doing the right thing?” Eddie asks Buck softly. “Not telling Christopher?”

The fierceness with which Buck answers surprises him, though perhaps it shouldn’t. “He doesn’t need to know. You’re doing the right thing, Eds, he shouldn’t have to face this. Either the world doesn’t end, and we scared him for no reason, or…” Buck trails off, but Eddie gets his meaning.

Eddie swallows and nods. “You’re right,” he says. “He doesn’t-“ he cuts himself off and shuts his eyes tight.

Buck squeezes him again. I’m here, the gesture says. Eddie squeezes back.

The movie Christopher picks is one they’ve seen before, and Eddie’s grateful. It’s easier to tune it out, to keep his eyes on Christopher and Buck instead.

When they’d returned with snacks, Christopher had immediately asked if he could sit with Buck. Buck had turned to him, expression stricken. The sentiment was obvious.

“Only if Buck sits with me,” Eddie’d replied. They’d ended up pressed together from their shoulders to their ankles with Chris sprawled out across both of them.

It’s the kind of domesticity Eddie’s caught himself daydreaming about more than once.

When the movie ends, Chris asks to stay up and wait for the comet. Of course he’d remembered it’s tonight. Eddie doesn’t know why he expected otherwise.

“No, buddy, we’ll watch the video tomorrow,” Eddie says. The lie tastes like ash on his tongue.

Chris begins to pout, but Buck steps in.

“Trust me,” he says. “If we wait until tomorrow, we’ll get to watch the best video, instead of some shakey news camera. You wouldn’t want to spoil that, would you?” Buck asks, pasting on his most infectious grin. Knowing it’s fake makes Eddie’s chest ache.

“Tell you what, though,” Eddie says, “how about we all have a sleepover in my room tonight?”

Christopher cheers at that.

Eddie smiles. It’s small and it’s watery, but it’s real. Buck presses his shoulder further into Eddie’s, a comforting pressure.

“Go get ready for bed and pick out a book, okay?”

Christopher grins and slides off the couch. The tears that have been threatening at the corners of Eddie’s eyes all night long return with a vengeance, and as soon as Christopher disappears around the corner, they finally fall.

His shoulders shake silently, and Buck pulls him to his chest. Buck’s warm fingers card through his hair, and he could swear he feels the ghost of a kiss pressed against the top of his head. Under any other circumstance, the thought would be electrifying. Now, though, it just makes the ache inside him grow.

In another lifetime, they could have had this. Decades, maybe, of unrestrained affection. Love. God, what had they been waiting for?

He feels the unsteadiness of Buck’s breath and knows without looking that he’s crying too. Mourning the same thing, Eddie suspects.

He hears Christopher making his way back towards them, and reluctantly pulls out of Buck’s embrace. He does his best to wipe the tears away and school his expression, but if the way Christopher frowns at him is any indication, he isn’t successful.

“What’s wrong?” Chris asks, looking between them.

Eddie pulls him close and presses a kiss to his forehead. “Everything’s okay,” he says softly.

“Your Dad and I were just talking about something sad,” Buck says, “but you don’t need to worry about it, okay?”

“What was it?” Chris asks.

Buck looks panicked and desperately sad, all at once.

“There were some people we couldn’t save,” Eddie says. This, at least, feels something like the truth. “And that made us feel sad, buddy.”

“It’ll be okay,” Christopher says seriously, looking at both of them in turn.

“You’re right,” Buck says, sounding a little choked up. “As long as we’re all together, it will be.”

They settle in Eddie’s bed and read a chapter from Chris’s book, the fifth in the Percy Jackson series. They’re barely halfway through it, but part of Eddie wants to push through the rest. He wants to know how it ends. Wants Christopher to know. Christopher should get to —

Eddie screws his eyes shut. Christopher should get to graduate, to fall in love, and to have kids of his own. He should get to grow old and gray and he should get to finish his damn book.

It’s not fair. None of this is fair.

All of the things Chris has been through - losing his mom, the tsunami, nearly losing Eddie - what’s the point of it all if he doesn’t get to grow from it, to heal past it?

Eddie wants to scream and cry and punch something. Instead, he keeps reading, steadily as he can, until Christopher is fast asleep between him and Buck.

After a few minutes of silence, both of them watching the steady rise and fall of Christopher’s chest, Buck taps Eddie’s wrist and nods towards the hall. He slips out of bed, and Eddie follows, careful not to jar Chris.

He finds Buck leaning against the wall, head tipped back, eyes closed. Eddie stands next to him, mindless of personal space. It had always been an afterthought between them, anyway.

“I’m in love with you,” Buck says casually, after several moments of silence. He opens his eyes and tips his head forward, gaze landing on Eddie. “I can’t even remember why I was so afraid to say it.”

“Me too,” Eddie says. He laces his fingers with Buck’s. “I’m in love with you too. I have been, I don’t even know how long.”

Buck chuckles softly, sadly. “We have the worst timing,” he says, turning his entire body towards Eddie.

Eddie turns to meet him, and Buck’s hand comes up to graze Eddie’s jaw.

“Can I kiss you?” Eddie asks, surprising himself. It shouldn’t feel like such a leap, but it does. It’d be terrifying, but Eddie’s always trusted Buck to catch him when he falls.

Instead of answering, Buck leans in and brushes his lips against Eddie’s, soft and gentle and everything and altogether not enough. Eddie chases him as he pulls back, capturing him in a deeper kiss. It’s hard and desperate, yet somehow achingly tender as if their bodies know that their first kisses will almost certainly be their last.

Buck lets out a half-choked sob and buries his fingers in Eddie’s hair. He doesn’t let go, even as they break the kiss, just leans their foreheads together. Somewhere along the line, Eddie’s fingers have fisted in Buck’s shirt. He doesn’t let go either.

“Eddie,” Buck says, raw and grief-stricken.

“Evan,” Eddie whispers. It’s only the second time he’s used Buck’s given name. If the way Buck’s breath hitches is any indication, he notices too.

Buck kisses him again then, filthy at first, then slowing into something sweet. In another lifetime, Eddie could spend hours like this, trading kisses with Buck. In this lifetime though…

Eddie cups Buck’s jaw and pulls back. “I love you,” he says because if this is his only chance, he’s not going to let Buck doubt it for a minute.

“I love you, too.”

Eddie takes Buck by the wrist and pulls him back into the bedroom, turning off lights as they go. They break apart just long enough to settle on either side of Chris, facing one another. Buck throws an arm across both of them, and Eddie brushes an errant lock of hair from Buck’s forehead.

The minutes tick by slowly as they lay in the dark, until Eddie finally speaks.

“If there’s something after all this…” Eddie whispers, “Promise you’ll find me?”

Buck lifts his arm and holds out his pinky finger. Eddie wraps his own around it.

“I promise,” Buck says.

It means something. It has too.

Eddie doubts he’ll sleep, but somehow, in between listening to Christopher’s breathing and watching Buck watch him, he slips into a dark, dreamless slumber.

The sunlight that wakes Buck is warm on his face, just like the sheets that pool around his waist. He wants to luxuriate in it, to let the sweetness of sleep pull him back under, but this time of year, if the sun’s already out, he’s late for work.

Buck’s eyes fly open. The sun’s out. He’s in Eddie’s bed. He’s late for work. Holy shit. He doesn’t even try to contain the grin that spreads across his face. He rolls over and shakes Eddie’s shoulder.

“Eddie, Eddie, wake up,” he whispers excitedly.

Eddie lifts his head, looking rumpled and adorable. He grumbles something completely unintelligible, and the smile on Buck’s face gets even wider.

“We’re late for work,” Buck says, practically bouncing.

“Shit,” Eddie says, scrubbing a hand across his face.

“Eds, you don’t understand. We’re late for work.”

The sleep clears from Eddie’s face almost as quickly as it had from Buck’s. “Oh my god,” he says, taking in the decidedly intact world around them. “It missed. Buck, it missed!”

Eddie surges forward, mindful of the still-sleeping Christopher between them, and kisses him square on the lips. They’re both smiling too hard for it to go anywhere, but it’s still the best kiss of Buck’s life.

Eventually, they’ll get up. They’ll distract Christopher with pancakes and turn on the news to learn that the global joint effort to divert the comet (“They nuked a comet, Eddie! That’s insane!”) was a success. They’ll find Christopher the video they promised, in a press release from NASA. They’ll let him see the comet’s bright blazing path across the sky, but they won’t tell him just how close it came. They’ll text Bobby to let him know they’re running late. They’ll receive a reply to let them know that, just this once, it’s okay. They’ll do all of these things in time, but for now, they bask in the simple joy of being alive and together.

Another lifetime, Eddie had thought the night before. No, he’s going to make this one count.

[sockablock]

(TW for panic attacks and discussions about trauma)

— — —

The thing is, Beau's friends are shit fighters.

To be clear—she's not saying that they're bad at fighting, gods know Veth's a force of nature with her crossbow and all of the spell-slingers can kill with a word—it's just that when it comes to fighting, actual fighting, that down-and-dirty fist-on-flesh shit, her friends suck. Most of 'em just run, or they’d sweet-talk a surrender, or go back to slinging spells.

Beau would never admit she misses the Soul, but at least those people knew how to block. At least Dairon would make her work for it, wouldn't tell her to please, gods, Beau, stop punching me, I give!

Fjord's better these days, but not good enough.

Which is why, on their third morning back in Nicodranas, when Beau opens the door to see Yasha looking restless, she knows exactly what's up.

"Should I get my staff?"

Yasha shrugs. She usually does.

"I'll grab it. Down in five."

Beau considers grabbing some toast too, but she remembers how antsy Yasha seemed and figures she should try to avoid puking in Marion’s yard.

Yasha is stretching when she gets there. The gate swings behind her with a gentle clunk, and she kicks her shoes off, curls her toes in the grass. The sun is barely broken above rooftops and towers, and the first chime of church bells ring out overhead.

Beau yawns a little, but it’s just for flavor. Mind games. She’s not actually sleepy.

“We do not have to—” 

She quickly waves her hand. “It’ll wake me up. You know, get the blood pumping.”

Yasha smiles a little at that. It’s always such a small one, but it’s getting to be familiar.

“I got up early. I couldn’t sleep. Er...sorry.”

Beau doubles her effort to be dismissive. “Don’t apologize to me, Yasha. C’mon. You think I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want to?”

This seems to be a winning argument. Yasha nods, like she can’t imagine Beau doing anything she doesn’t want.

Maybe it’s the crisp ocean breeze, maybe it’s the way they circle each other in the yard. Maybe it’s the fresh brush of gauze on her fists.

Beau wants to win.

She dives in, pulls low, uses her quick movement to catch Yasha off-guard and get in as closely as she can. Yasha’s tall, broad, strong as an ox, and even holding back, she could wind Beau with a punch. She presses even closer, limiting Yasha’s motions, sweeps out a leg and cuts up when Yasha moves. The two of them duck and weave and push, neither allowing the other an inch, fists flying, blows being blocked and sweat beginning to pour down their backs. Beau lands a hit that leaves Yasha grunting, then stumbles when a wild haymaker knocks her back. It’s clear that Yasha was never taught any form, just scraped it all together by surviving on the moors and her chaotic movement, high endurance, and reckless confidence just make her deadlier.

Beau tries to close in again, but a lucky kick forces her a pace too far. Her knuckles are bruising in that numb, seething way, and so she darts to the side, grabs her staff, vaults up and then arcs her foot to Yasha’s face—

The dance starts again, this time hardwood hitting forearms and on anyone else, Beau might even feel guilty about it. But Yasha barely seems to register the thwack, her teeth bared in a sideways grin, her eyes hard and excited and alive. Beau’s probably wearing the same expression. She hears herself laughing, and knows that she is. Up-swing, down-swing, slide left, throw a punch, block one, dart back, duck and then—

Yasha’s fist catches her right in the gut, sends Beau lurching flat into the dirt. She chokes her own breath, coughs up dust, barely gets an elbow up with Yasha leaning over her, blotting out the sun, raising Beau’s staff for a finishing strike—

Halts.

It’s like watching a tower fall. Yasha staggers back. She drops the staff. She lifts her hands and stares at her palms and Beau hears a mangled breath. Her knees give. She collapses on herself.

Beau scrambles up, aching limbs forgotten.

“Yasha?” she says. “Yasha? Are you—is—what’s wrong?”

Yasha sucks in more air, but that just seems to make things worse. Her shoulders tremble and her lungs sound ragged.

“Aw, shit,” says Beau, “I mean—fuck—uh—”

She half-runs, half-crawls, ‘til she’s at Yasha’s side. She wants to put her hand on Yasha’s arm, thinks better of it, panics a little more. She wishes she were Jester. She wishes she were Cad. They’d know what to do, they’d be better at this than her, anyone, hell, Marius would be better at this than her—

But it’s her, and everyone’s still in the house, so she shakes her head and stamps the fear down. 

“Yasha, I...aw, fuck, I’m—I’m here, it’s okay, nothing’s wrong—” clearly something is wrong, idiot, “—I mean, um, you’re safe here, okay? It’ll be alright. I’m here, and I’ll stay if that’s what you want, okay? I won’t go anywhere, if you don’t want. Uh...can you shake your head if you want me to go? Is that...possible, can you—”

A frantic shake.

“Oh good, okay, thank fuck, then I’m here. I’m right here, Yash. I’m not going anywhere.” She tries to pitch her voice calm, takes deep, long breaths, and continues to murmur as reassuringly as she can until after...seconds? Minutes? Yasha’s trembling slows. 

There’s a pause. Yasha inhales and lets it go. It’s shaky, but apparently good enough because finally, eventually, she turns and looks back at Beau.

“I’m...okay. I am okay.”

Beau sinks back into the grass. Then she lies down. “Oh, cool. I’m, uh, glad.”

“I’m so—”

She holds up a hand. “Nope. C’mon.” She pats the ground beside her.

“Er...what?”

She pats it again, emphatic. “Lie down. C’mon. I think we’ve earned a break.”

She stares up at the sky while Yasha shifts around, and eventually there’s a gentle thud as she lies down. Seagulls cry in the distance and clouds drift slowly past their heads.

Beau swears, but mentally. A private thing.

“So, uh...do we...want to talk about it, or...?”

Yasha is quiet for a moment. That’s not surprising. Then:

“It...reminded me of when I killed you.”

“What? Oh—” 

“Almost killed you,” Yasha amended. “Both times.”

“Right,” says Beau. “That’s...right.”

She thinks about saying—almost. You only almost killed me, so really it’s fine. There’s nothing to worry about. And you kill people all the time anyway, right?

She blinks. “Wait, you kill people all the time, Yasha. Is it always that bad? Shit, does it always...does it always make you feel like this? Only...I don’t think I’ve ever seen you...break like that...”

She regrets the words immediately. Stupid, Beau, that’s a stupid thing to say. 

But Yasha answers the question earnestly. “It’s usually different,” she says to the sky. “It usually...doesn’t matter. Er...no, not that it doesn’t matter, it just...”

“Doesn’t matter,” Beau sighs. “No, I...sort of get it. Man, that might be fucked up. Of us.”

Yasha shrugs, which rustles the grass. “It’s how it has always been for me. That is just what life is like.”

“I’m sure Jester would disagree.”

“Jester is...nice. I am not. I...have hurt a lot of people. And not just people who were fighting me, or trying to hurt me, but people who were innocent, who did not need not to be hurt, people who care about me, and, and people who I...”

She trails off. Beau can’t see her face, but right now, selfishly, she is glad for it. She feels anger bubbling up in her stomach.

“You were being controlled,” she says fiercely. “You didn’t do it. Someone made you do it.”

“But...part of that...part of it was still me. Since...since you all freed me, I...I remember parts of it. I remember doing it. Those were my hands.” 

Beau can practically hear Yasha’s fist tighten. She definitely feels it when Yasha hits the ground.

“If I was better, or if I was stronger, if I had broken free faster, none of that would have happened, I could have stopped him sooner—”

This time, Beau doesn’t hold back. They’re lying down, so it’s incredibly awkward, but the first thing she can think of is to grab Yasha’s hand.

She sits up, and waves it over Yasha’s face.

“But you didn’t,” she says, then falters, then wants to smack herself. “Fuck, no, that’s not what I mean. What I mean is...” Then she stops. “No, you know what? Fuck it. You didn’t break out faster. And that’s because it was a miracle you managed it in the first place. Yasha, you were being controlled by a devil. You were being controlled by the Chained Oblivion. The fact that you were even a person the first time we met—and you were a person, you were funny, you charged me money to, to, well, you charged me five gold, remember that?”

Yasha blinks. Her wrist is slack in Beau’s grip.

“I...do, yes, I remember that.”

“Right. The fact that you were a person then meant that they couldn’t keep their claws in you. Because you were strong. You were better. Better than everything they tried to make you. You kept breaking free.”

Yasha does not try to squirm away, only stays there.

“But...I needed help every time that I did escape. I never managed it on my own. First it was...it was Kord, and then you all—”

“Of course!” Beau throws her other arm into the air. “Who the fuck could do it on their own?! All that means is that when you had a chance, the second you had a chance, you were outta there. In your heart, you knew what was right. You knew it, and held onto it, even when I’m sure it would’ve been so easy to stay there, to stay in that hell and just go through the motions and lose yourself in...in grief, and loss and...and all that. But you didn’t. And now look at you.”

She cracks a goofy smile, all desperation to make what she’s trying to say heard.

“You’re an angel, Yasha. Remember?”

Yasha slowly sits up too. Her hair cascades down her shoulders, black turning white, with little blades of grass.

Beau is made painfully aware of the fact that she’s still holding Yasha’s hand. She lets go. Then she swears again, and hopes that Yasha doesn’t think it’s because of anything s—

“I am, aren’t I?”

Her gaze shoots up and Yasha's wearing a goofy smile too. Small, a bit nervous, but real and warm.

It’s getting to be familiar.

Beau snorts. She snorts so loud that it might dislodge something in her chest. She hits Yasha gently on the arm.

“Yeah, yeah, don’t, uh, don’t let it go to your head.”

She can see Yasha nodding in the corner of her eye.

“Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.” Then, after a brief battle over whether or not to bring it up, “I don’t...I don’t...for the record, I’m not mad about you stabbing me. Or whatever.”

Yasha looks stricken, and Beau regrets it instantly. “Shit, should I not have reminded you of—”

“No,” Yasha sighs, and her face softens. “No. I am...glad that you are not mad at me.”

“Should we, like...go to a cleric about this?” Beau asks. “Is this going to be something that happens in, like...fights? Because if it does, it might put you in danger. Also, it’s...it probably sucks for you. Right?”

Fjord would probably have something to say about the way she’s handling this conversation. He’s not here now.

“I...don’t know,” Yasha says eventually. “It hasn’t happened before. It was only...just now. And...just with you. It...hurting you reminded me of being controlled. It...brought me back to all the times that my mind was not my own.”

“I’m sorry,” Beau says, because she’s not sure what else to say.

“No,” says Yasha. Beau looks up, surprised by the weight in her words. “If I am not allowed to be sorry to you, you cannot be sorry to me.”

“Ah,” says Beau. She feels a grin pulling. “In that case...I’m not sorry.”

Yasha nods, like this is sacred, and Beau can’t help but snort again. 

“C’mon,” she says. “We can...work this shit out later. Or start to. With a cleric if you want, or not, if you don’t. But I just got my ass kicked, and I’m thirsty. What do you say to some drinks? I think there’s juice. Do you like juice?”

She stands up, and sticks out a hand. 

Yasha takes it.

“Okay. I like juice.”

— — — 

✨ Ko-Fi Link in Bio! ✨ | Requests are OPEN

[pan-fangirl-345]

Meeting the Team

Summary: You’re out with your boyfriend, Tsukishima, when you run into his team unexpected. You were not prepared for this.

It was supposed to be a calm walk through the park. You really weren't expecting to be introduced to your boyfriend's entire team at once.

You and Tsukishima had been walking through the park after spending the day window shopping. You had finally managed to convince him to go shopping with you. Even though it was something that neither of you particularly enjoyed, you need some new school supplies and maybe a few new sweatshirts and Tsukishima liked to point out the weird things that people bought so you could ponder what they were using it for.

It was a nice day, the skies were clear, there was a nice breeze, and it was cool enough that you weren't overly hot.

Kei had told you about his team before, obviously, and you and Tadashi had known each other since middle school.

"Hey, (Y/F/N), heads up," Kei murmured, nudging your side as a group of boys headed towards you.

"Isn't that your team?" you asked, letting Kei, nudge you behind him slightly. Kei's hand slid into yours, giving it a small, reassuring squeeze. You wrapped your arms around the arm Kei was using to halfway shield you from the rest of the boys.

"Yes, unfortunately," Kei muttered.

"Oh my god! Is Saltishima with a girl?!"

The small red-head that had spoken was clearly Hinata, and he was just the way Kei had described him.

"What else would she be, dumbass?"

That was Kageyama then, if the stoic face and the dark hair were anything to go by.

"It's good to see you again (Y/F/N)," Tadashi said, giving you a small smile.

"Who's your friend Tsukishima?" the silver-haired male asked, giving you a warm smile. That must've been Suga.

"This is (Y/N), she's my girlfriend," Kei admitted, glancing back at you warily.

"I-I can go," you whispered to him, starting to back away from them all. It wasn't that you or Kei were ashamed of your relationship, if either of you were it wouldn't have gotten this far, but neither of you were ready to tell his entire team at once.

One of the first things that you had told Kei was that you and crowds didn't tend to mix. You sometimes got overwhelmed when you had to remember so many names and faces. And Kei had told you enough that it was better if you met the team in groups or one-on-one.

"How did Tsukishima get such a pretty girlfriend?" You looked to see a short boy with spiky hair and a blond tuft. That would be Nishinoya then.

"Guys, let's give them some space, she looks like she might puke." That was an older boy, with short brown hair. That was probably Daichi.

"Damn, she's almost as pretty as a Kiyoko and Yachi. You never told us that you were a player Tsukishima." Loud, buzzcut, looked like someone you would avoid in an alleyway. Tanaka then.

The three standing back and watching looked like Narita, Ennoshita, and Kinoshita.

"It's nice to meet you."

Tall, long hair, looked like a tough guy. Asahi then.

"It's nice to meet you too Asahi," you murmured, giving him a shy smile.

"Y-You know how I am?"

"Kei's told me about all of you," you admitted. "I think I can name all of you. Maybe."

Kei glanced back at you, running his thumb over your hand softly.

"Aw, so Saltishima does care about us!" Hinata chirped, practically vibrating.

"Hinata's as enthusiastic as you said he was Kei," you murmured, stepping out a little bit.

"You got my name right!" Hinata said, giving you a bright smile, one you returned slowly.

"It's nice to meet you (Y/L/N), I'm assuming you're the reason Tsukishima is always smiling at his phone during practice lately," Suga said, smirking at Kei, who glared at him.

"You told me you weren't doing anything!" you hissed, pinching Kei in the side lightly.

"I said that what I was doing wasn't as important as talking to you," Kei replied, wrapping his arm around your shoulders.

"I-I'm really n-not that important! You should be paying attention to practice," you told him, glaring at him weakly.

"Good to know you'll call this stick out on his shit," Nishinoya mumbled.

"Noya, language," Suga hissed.

"It's alright Suga, that doesn't bother me."

"You should hear her when we study together," Kei muttered, pushing his glasses up his nose again.

"You aren't any better baby," you informed him.

"You really aren't Tsukki," Yamaguchi pointed out.

"Baby? Never knew Tsukishima would be into pet names," Kageyama said.

"You're never gonna here the end of this, are you?" you asked Kei, who shook his head.

"This is one of the reason I was hoping to delay telling them," Kei confessed.

"Hey, (Y/L/N), do you want to play with us?" Hinata asked, throwing a ball into the air.

"I . . . um, I don't really play. I come to your games and everything, but I'm more of a softball person."

"You likes hitting things with a metal bat, you mean," Kei said. "Since you can't legally do it to the idiots in our class."

"Maybe, but I also like the feeling of a ball hitting my glove, the sound it makes, the way it feels when you catch a pop fly no one thought you could catch and the ump yells 'you're out'!"

"What position do you play?"

"Outfielder, I have an arm apparently."

"She's one of their strongest batters," Kei boasted.

"What's the point in you boasting about my abilities, Kei?" you asked.

"Because you won't do it yourself."

"I do too!"

"No, love, you don't."

You pouted, but it was true. You never really saw a reason to boast about how hard you could throw a ball, or how far you could hit one.

Your phone ringing saved you from any comments.

"Mom?"

"Where are you?"

"I'm out with Kei, I told you that I was going out with him today. What's wrong? What happened?"

"Nothing, I guess I just forgot where you were."

"Do you need anything while I'm out?"

"No, just be home before dinner."

"I always am," you reminded her.

She hung up, making you tear a hand through your hair.

"I need to leave a note or something next time," you muttered.

"Your mom?" Kei asked.

You nodded, intertwining your fingers together.

"Need me to take you home?"

"No, I just have to be back by dinner, so I'm good until about five-thirty."

"Wait, were you on a date?" Daichi asked, raising an eyebrow.

You glanced at Kei. 

You were definitely dating, but you had never really labeled the outings that took place. They didn't feel like dates.

"Yeah. I told you guys I was going out with my girlfriend," Kei muttered, pushing his glasses up his face.

"We thought you were joking man!" Tanaka bellowed. 

"Yeah, we just thought you were trying to get out of team hangouts."

"You should've gone, we could've done this another day," you told Kei.

"I wanted to spend some time with my girlfriend, is that too much to ask?" Kei asked, tightening his grip a little bit.

He was clearly getting exasperated with everyone, and the lines on his face said that he was getting irritated too.

"No, but don't you guys have your tournament coming up?" you asked. "You should be practicing. I can wait."

Kei frowned, and then you realized your choice of words.

"That's not what I meant and you know it," you muttered.

"Love," he whispered, a low warning.

"Look, all I'm saying is that you should be practicing. We can go on all the dates you want when your tournament is over."

"If you don't go out with her Tsukishima, I might," Noya teased.

You couldn't help the heat that flushed to your cheeks.

You had never thought of yourself as particularly pretty, you were intelligent, sure, but you weren't what most people would describe as crush material. It was one of the reasons it took you and Kei so long to get together, you had thought it was a prank.

Kei sighed, deep and long-suffering and you stifled a giggle.

"I think we better get going guys," you admitted. "I think Kei might pop a blood vessel if we don't."

"Or commit murder," Kei grumbled, but he shot you a grateful look.

"You love them too much for that and you know it."

"End me now."

"Imagine how bad it'll be when I finally meet your brother," you pointed out.

The blood seemed to drain from Kei's face and Yamaguchi snorted into his hand as he tried to suppress his laughter.

"We're breaking up," he deadpanned.

"Not until I meet your brother," you told him, shaking your hands for emphasis.

"Yamaguchi, help me out here." He must've been desperate.

"Video tape it for me so I can see how it goes," Tadashi replied, making you laugh.

"This is why we're friends," you told him, fist bumping him.

"They're plotting against me I swear," Kei muttered, tearing a hand through his hair.

"Okay, let's go then Grumpy Pants," you said. "It was nice to finally meet all of you," you added, heading for the train station so you could head home.

"Did . . . did you like them?" Kei asked.

"Of course I did, honestly, with some one-on-one time with them, I would probably like them a lot more."

"I'm sorry that it happened like that," Kei admitted, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

"It's alright, I handled it a lot better than I thought I would. I think it's because you told me so much about them. I felt like I knew a lot about them before I even met them."

Kei nodded, kissing the top of your head.

"Why are you so different around me, Kei?" you asked after a while.

"What do you mean?"

"I see how you act around the others. I know that everyone else sees the- what did you call it?- bastard act. I rarely ever see that. I know it's only been a few months and this phase," you pointed out every point of physical contact, "will probably wear off eventually, but . . . you don't act like that around me."

"I act like this around you because you're different," Kei muttered. "You seem to have the ability to read me like a book. It's aggravating, but it also means that I don't have to put up the wall. You see everything, and you seem to like it anyway."

"Does . . . does it bother you? That I know you so well?" you inquired, taking a not-so-subtle step away from him.

"Get back here," Kei muttered, tucking you neatly into his side again. "I said it's aggravating, and I said that because you know how much I don't like talking about things. And you always know when I'm hiding something that's bothering me."

"You don't always have to talk to me. You could talk to Yamaguchi," you suggested.

"I talk to you because I trust you. If I didn't want to talk to you, we wouldn't be dating," he told you. "We wouldn't be dating if it bothered me that you knew me so well."

"I just . . . I've never really been in a serious relationship with someone who actually liked me."

"What do you mean?" He paused, and looked down at you, frowning.

"I've gone on dates and everything before . . .  but most of them were dared by friends to ask me out." You shrugged, toying with your hair. "It's just that I want to do things right."

"You are," Kei assured you. "Have . . . have I ever made you feel like you weren't?"

"No, baby, you have never made me feel like that," you promised him, turning so you could cup his face, stroking his cheek with your thumb. "I would have told you if you had."

Kei nodded, bumping foreheads with you.

"C'mon, let's get you home before your mother has an aneurism," Kei muttered.

You snorted, covering your mouth with your hand as you walked together.

"I would literally pay to see my mother pop a blood vessel," you told him, smiling at him as he smirked.

"Your parents don't like me, do they?" he asked after a while. "That's why she keeps pretending she doesn't know where you are."

"They just have a hard time trusting anybody. The last couple of times I tried to bring a boy home they confessed that it was just a dare," you admitted, attempting to hide your face with your hair.

"They don't know what they're missing," Kei snapped, stopping you. "You are amazing, and beautiful, and you're smart, and you know me well enough to know that it's just the bastard act. Anything they told you about how much you are worth is wrong."

"I know that," you answered, the silent 'sort of' not needing to be addressed. "But Kei, you have to remember, it takes a toll on a girl when the only reason she gets asked out is because of a dare. Why do you think it took me so long to get together with you?"

Kei frowned, but you knew he got it. Didn't mean he was happy about it though.

"We got off track," you muttered. "My point, is that they don't trust you yet. I do, and they'll come around eventually, I did, didn't I?"

Kei nodded, giving you a small smile.

"Do you think your team liked me?" you inquired as the train bumped along.

"I wouldn't be surprised if they asked you to start managing," Kei muttered. "Yeah, they liked you. A lot."

"Don't go getting jealous Kei," you teased, wrinkling your nose at him playfully.

"'M not," he grumbled, but the slight flush on his cheeks told you otherwise.

"You know you'll always be my favorite volleyball dork," you said, standing on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek.

PDA was never something Kei had ever really been against, the most he usually went with was an arm around your shoulders or waist, holding your hand, but other times he would allow things like this.

He always had a protective arm around you when you were on the train since he knew there were all sorts of creepy people, mostly men, that might try something.

"Kei, you know you don't have to introduce me to your brother right? You seem a little on edge about it."

"No, I want you two to meet," he admitted, toying with a small piece of your hair absentmindedly. "It's just going to be chaos when you do. Akiteru can be . . . a lot sometimes."

"And your team isn't?" you asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"You . . . have a fair point," he confessed.

"I tend to," you teased.

"Okay, don't get too cocky, that's my job," Kei replied.

"I thought it was your job to be pessimistic."

"I'm a realist," he retorted.

"Keep telling yourself that babe," you said, patting his shoulder lightly.

Kei snorted, wrapping his arms around your waist.

You loved bickering like this with Kei, it was never hurtful, it was playful teasing, and it made you both smile. You were both very good at it too, which meant sessions could go until someone stopped you.

Many people had asked if you guys were having an argument the first time you did it in school, and you had just giggled and said it was how you communicated.

When you got off at your stop Kei slipped his hand into yours, interlacing your fingers together.

"Text me when you get home alright? There's been some sketchy stuff going on," you tell him as you walked down your road.

"I will," he assured you, kissing your forehead before you slipped inside.

"Bye Kei," you called, waving.

"Bye (Y/F/N), I'll see you tomorrow."

You smiled as he strode down the street toward his own home.

Yeah, he was definitely different from the others.

(A/N I’m such a simp for this boy! Oof.)

[kenmasangel]

getting back together after years

synopsis : the get back, part 1 “why am i even with you”

characters : sakusa, tsukishima

genre : fluff

warning : cursing, mention of alcohol

an : sorry for any gramma or spelling mistakes, everytime i’d right it was nighttime and i’d be really tired so i wasn’t able to focus 100%. please notice me of any mistakes masterlist

Sakusa Kiyoomi

years have passed since your break up with sakusa, it was a sad but necessary break up for you to move on and finally glow up

you also realized that the only person you truly ever needed was yourself and you worked hard to be the person you are today

“at the end of the day, men are trash,” you would try to cheer your friend who had a fight with her boyfriend in one of the best clubs of tokyo. “so wipe your tears and come move your hips,”

on the professional side you became tokyo's favorite journalist, sports related; not only because of your looks but also your professionalism and personality

every hot athlete you've ever interviewed tried to get with you, but they always got rejected

on the other hand sakusa joined MSBY Black Jackals; a professional volleyball team in japan's v.league, in the top tier of division 1

yes sir period

he never dated someone else, the break up kinda broke his heart but he'll never admit it

he also became more distant with people lowkey

however, one day your manager called you to tell you about who are you going to interview next

as she mentionned the name of a famous volleyball team you couldn’t stop your mind of thinking about your ex who used to play volleyball

little did you know that he was a part of the team

lmao who gon tell you

when you got back home you decided to do some research about that MSBY team or whatever

...

oh to your surprise when you saw sakusa kiyoomi’s face there

“no shit,” you mumbled to yourself lowkey annoyed

after the brake up you grew stronger and more independent as you put in mind that all men are trash, you didn’t want to go through that steretipycal sad phase where your self confidence would be all crushed. you wanted to remain strong and you learned how to truly love yourself without expecting anything from anyone as you had your own self

period boo

anyway, you kinda had numbed all your feelings, and to see him now made all your memories with him comeback; how you first met, your first kiss, your first dates and that fight

so here you were, in your appartement checking out their previous interviews trying to get all the juice you needed yet your mind would still zone out on his face

“just keep it pro, y/n, he probably even forgot about you, just keep it pro,” you told yourself before turning off your pc

the day of the interview, here we finally are. the MSBY team knew they had an interview with the most appreciated journalist of all times so they got ready.

“do y’all think they’re cute ?” asks atsumu, “if they’re cute you better back off guys, i’m sure i’m going to catch their attention anyway,” he cockily adds flipping his bang and flexing his muscles, no one bothered answering him at this point they were used to him

“they’re here,” their manager clapped in his hands. “don’t forget what i told you guys, they are very influent so don’t mess it up and don’t scare them away,” he looked at atsumu and bokuto who just stuck their tongues out

“good morning,” you greeted all of them and bowed, “i’m l/n y/n, the journalist who’ll interview you today,” you looked at all of them with a poker face. saying that sakusa was surprised would be an understatement; he was in shock, his brain forgot how to function correctly. you followed the others who took you to the room where all the staff would chill, offering you coffee, tea and snacks

sakusa couldn’t keep his eyes off you, seeing you after all these years was like a wave of fresh air; he was relieved to see you successful and blooming, what a beautiful sight he thought when he saw you laughing with his teammates as he got in the room. but at the same time his heart ached him as he remembred what made you two go separate ways and the guilt he tried to hide deep inside him all those years started creeping up again in his chest

“c’mon, it’s just an interview,” he sighed before sitting on a chair behind his team

the interview started and it was going fine, sakusa’s teammates were cool and you had a lot of fun interviewing them. you liked their chaotic energy and it happened for you to match it, they immediately liked you

“y/n-chan,” started atsumu getting close to you, ”would you like to go out with me tonight, we could have dinner together or just grab a drink-”

“okay barry b. benson, you’re not my type sorry,” you stopped him as you pinched his cheek making all his teammates laugh, you got a pout from him but he eventually laughed liking your attitude

“y/n-chan, why don’t you come and have dinner with us tonight?” asked bokuto with sparkles in his eyes, “oooh~ say please we’d love to!” joined him hinata with the same sparkles in his eyes

you akwardly chuckle looking at sakusa then bringing your stare back at them, “i don’t kno-”, “please come, it would be nice,” finally adds sakusa what made you look back at him

you kept staring at each other for  moment before you nodded makinf the three balls of chaotic energy; bokuto, hinata and atsumu scream a ‘yes!’ you exchanged numbers and you went back home

well, that wasn’t too bad you thought to yourself once back at you appartement plopping on your couch

for some reason your heart was beating fast and you damned those feelings you tried to hide and not get rid of for coming back

he was looking as handsome as ever, you were not going to lie

and that look in his eyes... was it regret ?

“as he fucking should,” you shook your head thinking about what he’d said in that fight

but you were young, he probably regrets, “stfu stupid heart,”

you got up and got ready for tonight’s dinner

“keep that poker face y/n, you’re doing great” you said to yourself before getting into the restaurant, you quickly saw hands waving at you, spotting the team and you went to the table. there was a place left next to bokuto and sakusa, just great, you tried hard not to roll your eyes and sat

the diner was going well, you were not bothered by sakusa’s presence, he didn’t talk much anyway and you had fun talking to the others who were really funny, the thing is that everyone got drunk; hinata and bokuto were hugging each other singing the yarichin bitch anthem, atsumu kept saying ‘ya like jazz?’ every time the someone would pass by, you and sakusa were the only ones in a good state. you couldn’t help but laugh at them trying to stop them but you’d eventually fail

“atsumu please stop,” you tried to stop him from getting on the table to ask everyone if they liked jazz, “i won’t unless you tell me ya like jazz, honey,” he wiggled his eyebrows as you couldn’t help yourself from laughing, “i do like jazz now sit down,” you finally said

sakusa kept thinking if he should talk to you or not in the mean time, he couldn’t help but to create two imaginary cases in his mind one for that says ‘yes’ and the other one ‘no’, he finally came back to earth when you sat back down after stopping tsumu from performing a jazz song

“but y/n i swear it’s a good jazz song, it is called... Jailhouse Rock by Elvis Presley,” he grins proud of himself, you stare at him trying to hold your laughter and when you were going to anwser you heared sakusa do it first, “no miya, and make the owl and the tangerine stop crying,” atsumu salutes him and goes to talk to the crying duo

“long time no see, l/n,” he finally says making your heart miss a beat

“never thought i’d see you again sakusa,” you answer, finally looking at him

“glad to see you’re doing well,” he adds. “even tho i wish we’d be on good terms,” you sigh turning your head. “gotta admit i am the one to blame,”

“glad to see you are mature enough to admit your wrongs,” you anwser him sipping on your drink

“i’ve always knew that i was the one who fucked up, y/n... maybe back then i just didn’t have the guts to admit it, nor to try keeping you close to me. i just saw how you were doing better off without me, and i thought it was better to let go even if it did hurt me...” he finally admits

all what you wanted to hear, craved to hear when you broke up with him. you felt some type of way, good memories you had with him flooding your mind and the feelings you’ve once had for the pretty germaphobe

what were you gonna say? were you finally ready to forgive him and move on or stay on your positions and just live like you’ve been living since the brake up

“well... we’re grown ups now, it’s all forgiven and forgotten,” you give him a small smile,

“thank you,” it was then quiet for a brief moment before he finally decided to man up, “i missed you,” he looked down at his plate

wow the butterflies in your tummy, heart and brain went off with no warnings, you stared at him with wide eyes trying to comprehend what on god’s green earth did he just say

did you miss him too ? did you hate him ? were you over the fight ? did you really stop loving him or did you just hide those feelings ?

too many questions yet no answers, as he realized you didn’t answer he mumbled few apologies but you stopped him telling it was fine

“it’s just... it’s been so many years and we didn’t end up on good terms,” you explain

“yeah, no, i totally understand that is normal,” you nodd looking down at your lap. “can i hold your hand?”

“pardon me?”

“can i hold your hand? fuck that y/n, can i have another chance? allow treat you right, to love you deeply. that guilt that built up in me kept growing with the years, and now that you’re finally here i just want one thing as i see your face is to make up for everything, even after years.”

oh wow, you were definitely not expecting that; not from sakusa who wasn’t this expressive with his feelings and especially not after all these years

you held his hand and smiled sincerly at him, “it’ll take me time; to figure out how i feel and to trust you again, but i’d like to give it a chance,” he smiled back, hope filling his eyes

after that night you tried to spend a lot of time together

usually he would be the one to initiate it

he did his best to prove you that you can trust him and that he became a better person for you

your heart would melt everytime he told you about a memory of you together or how he still remembered stuff about you

you were on your guards in the beginning but slowly you began to soften

eventually you got back together, but that’s another story

it took several months but you don’t even know how happy he was

oh and let’s just not talk about the media and how powerful you guys were

anyway you were happy and that’s what matters

Tsukishima Kei

ara ara what we have here

do you know how the life works in a weird way sometimes? a compilation of events that happen by sheer luck, fucking coincidences that are just way out of this world that lead you to bump into that one person even if you don’t want to?

no ? aight sorry

anyway, that is lowkey what life had in store for you and salt shaker man

tsukishima had gotten into that college he wanted to attend

he was happy but he would’ve secretely loved if you were there to share his happiness

oh how little did he know that you got into that college too

ahaha *awkward laughter*

homeboy found it out in a special way, not the best way there is but you know he had to know a way or another

he went to that party with his two roomates who actually lowkey forced him ngl

as he was making his way to the kitchen he heard someone laughing, a laugh he’s heard way too many times but he shook it off thinking about how many people may have the same laughter

“oi y/n, you look hot!” a male’s voice shouted

what ?

there was no way you were there and he decided to make sure by checking out by himself

he was CHOKED when he saw you there

“tell me something i don’t know,” you laughed as you approached the boy who called you. “what’s up hot stuff ?” he said as you were finally next to him

hot stuff? tsukki almost gagged at the horrible name you were just given, yet it was not false that you were indeed ‘hot’; you looked as flawless as ever, you did a 180° change

the sweet, soft, innocent y/n was replaced by the baddest bitch in the motherfucking block he almost didn’t recognize you. he wondered if you stayed together would you have gone through this change an didn’t notice you coming his way

“god, don’t stand in the middle of the- tsukishima ?” you stopped when you saw his face. “you attending a party, what a surprise,” you stood there a hand on your hip

“oh y/n, how are you?” homeboy didn’t know how to act at this point, he awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck

“i’m doing great actually, so did you get into here ? the ‘college of your dreams’,” he could feel the sarcasm in your voice, he also noticed how cold you were

“yeah, thankfully. where’d you go ?”

“oh i go here, the same college as you,” you fake a smile, he feels his heart miss a beat.. or two.“you know sometimes i look back, and i can’t help from noticing that being in a committed relationship didn’t stop me from attending one of the best colleges out there and you, on the other hand who didn’t want anything to do with a relationship got here too,” you spat, obviously you didn’t get to tell him how you felt when you broke up. “good thing i’m not in the same major as you though,” you sighed

“y/n i_,”

“no save it tsukishima, there’s no need to say whatever you want to say. at this point i’ve moved on, i just found it funny to see you here after what you’ve said and how i actually also got here; now i know for sure that you were the problem... and i hated myself thinking it was me,” you scoff. “hope i won’t get to see you often, good luck for the rest,” and with that you left, joining a group of friends who waved for you to join them

needless to mention that he was pissed and heartbroken

he was not expecting that from you, he always saw you as this delicate person whose kindness is infinite

now, oh now he didn’t recognize you

even your voice got more.. mature? cold? idk

anyway after your encounter he directly headed back to his dorm

he couldn’t sleep the whole night rethinking about all what those years with you and what you said, you hated yourself as you thought you were the problem

bravo tsukishima they hate you, he thought to himself

uhm lol so the rest of your college ‘journey’ went without the two of you seeing each other

you were both majoring in different stuff, the campus is huge, y’alls schedules didn’t match and you had different friend groups

yet rarely he would find you at the library at 4am, many empty coffee cans on your table, looking all sleepy with your glasses falling off and your hair in a messy bun

“fucking ass why on god’s poluted earth did i ever want to major in that fucking shit of a topic, couldn’t i do something basic like stripper or something ? ugh fml,” he caught you once in the middle of an existencial crisis

he couldn’t help his lips from twitching upwards and he couldn’t stop the memories of the two of you studying together flooding his mind

he never came close to you tho, especially after what you told him in that party

sad </3

you guys graduated from college fucking finally

congrats folks you did it!

and you thought it was the end of your story

how sweet, how naive

uh-uh baby life decided otherwise and you saw each other years later

in the same company 🤪 

“oi tsukishima-san, don’t forget we have a metting with the new manager in 10,”

how could he forget ? everyone has been talking about this manager for a week

tsukki was respected by all his work mates as he was such a good element what made him get the best promotions and claims from his boss

n e way

he got into the conf room where everyone was seated and took his place waiting for the new manager and the boss to come in, he was clearly annoyed and didn’t want to be there; he just wanted to finish his work on go back home

anyway his attention was brought back by his boss entering the room, “good evening everyone, with no longer introduction let me introduce you to y/l/n y/n your new manager,”

tsukki’s head SNAPPED, he almost broke his neck

tsukiskima.exe has stopped working

you were surprised when your eyes landed on him too but you’re a bad bitch and kept it professional

he couldn’t focus for the rest of the meeting, even tho it was just presentations and basic information for the future collaboration

the meeting ended and everyone went back home, except for you as you stayed in late to work on some stuff

you thought you were alone since it was late, but you were wrong since tsukishima had also stayed in late to finish up whatever file he was asked to analize

this is why you were startled when you heard some noise and a tall figure got out of the office ahead of you

“oh my,” you held your chest and relaxed when you noticed it was tsukishima, “i thought i was alone,”

“staying in late on your first day huh, didn’t know you were still here,” he responded, you noticed how his tone didn’t change from when you first met him in highschool, maybe his voice got a bit more deeper tho

you couldn’t help noticing how good he looked in his suit, it fit him really well. his broad shoulders covered by the dark blue vest, the first few buttons of his white vector shirt opened letting you lowkey see his collarbone

“yea well i’m leaving now, good night,” you quickly say and took your leave, seeing him after all this time was weird and you didn’t know how to feel

you still remember what you said the last time you saw him at that party, you were hurt and you said some things you probably regret by now and you thought that he probably hated your guts and as long as you wanted to be at the top in your  new work you still decided to stay away from him

“ugh what a dumbass,” you whined and slapped the back of your head thinking tsukishima was still in the floor you left him in, but he saw you and his lips twitched upwards

everytime he thinks you can’t look any better you prove him wrong, he thought to himself as he went to his car finally heading back home. after all those years life decided to still play with you guys and put you in the same company, i mean, he wasn’t complaining but he wished it wasn’t awkward between the two of you

you guys started working together, a new journey for the both of you started

he thought you still hated him and that is why he was cold with you :(

so you were both distant with each other and if you ever had to talk it was cold, formal and quick

it’s been a few weeks your collegues had noticed the tension between the two of you

they were lowkey sus of something but didn’t want to butt in

it was physically painful to watch

n e way everything was going more or less smoothly until a new face made an appariction in the company

“my god! what are you doing here?” you hugged the good looking man

“i missed you and i thought that i couldn’t live without you, so i am here to cling,” you pull away and playfully slap his chest. “nah more seriously i am here to get that bag boo,”

“as you should hun, so you’re a trainee huh? i’ll ask them to put you under my supervision,” you wink

“say less,” he flirtily gets close to you

“uhm, sorry to interrupt your i bet very educational discussion but y/l/n, here, the file,” tsukishima butts in out of nowhere, his voice colder than usual and his eyes lowkey darker than usual

“oh thank you,” and he left

“well, that was awkward,” your friend cringes

“shut up, yuuji,” you roll your eyes

“wait wasn’t that tsukishami? sushikima? suspicual tall bitch who broke your heart?” the last attempt made you chuckle

“yes, it is,” you sigh, going through the file. “i can’t believe you still remeber that!”

“miss girl, you were not the one listening at your own self sobbing at how some tall, blonde, salt shaker broke your heart and how you’d want to, and i quote “punch his beautiful face then hug him so tight that i’ll squeeze his organs”,”

you narrow your eyes at him then for quite a while, then you scoff, “i am glad you’re here, dickhead,”

“so am i, headass,” he gives you a sincere smile

yuuji’s presence made things complicated even more

tsukishima didn’t appreciate the new flirty, good looking, lowkey smart trainee who was under your supervision

he was more irritable than usual, he knew he had no right to feel like that but still, he couldn’t help it

everytime he saw you two together working, laughing, grabing lunch together or even just being in the same area it made him want to break walls

but he couldn’t

he also saw how yuuji would flirt with other female collegues and it made him furious; you didn’t deserve that!

deserve what tho lol you and yuuji were friends but since tsukki was blinded by his jealousy or whatever he was feeling he assumes you were a thing or soon to be a thing

dumb mf

anyway

your boss had assigned you an important file to work on

all cool and shit until he mentioned that you had to work with tsukishima

ahaha.......... right

you started working the day after

°3°

it was awkward as fuck ngl, y’all would share max up to 3 words in a matter of 20mins

each one of you was sitting in their side

the tension buddy, the tension!!!!!

idk how you survived

day 2: you slapped some sense in yourself and an old relationship that ended in bad terms shouldn’t affect your work years after

so you started talking more, always pro stuff, but still

kei was the same as yesterday but that didn’t surprise you since he was always like that and you weren’t expecting anything from him except contribute effectively to the work, what he did

day 3: work in progress, nothing less

day 4: same as day 3 except that you stayed in later than the previous days

day 5: yuuji bursted in because he had broought you food, he kissed your temple before he left wishing you good luck. tsukki almost gagged, homie was fuming in rage

day 6:

it was late, everyone had left but you and kei still working on that goddamn file, thankfully he had given enough time to finish the work

“y/l/n, the food is here,” tells you tsukishima as he got back into the office

“thanks, i almost died from hunger,” you get up getting what you ordered

you were eating in silence until tall man decided to speak up, “funny, huh?” you looked at him confused. “how we went to the same highschool, same college and now we are working together,”

you just let an “oh” thinking about what you told him in that frat party, “i guess you were right, i was the problem,”

“tsukishima look, it’s been years and it’s all forgotten now okay?” he looks at his food, his mind elswhere

“remember what you told me in that party?”

“tsuki-”

“i mean, now that we’re grown ups we can talk about it, right? i feel like i didn’t get closure, not like i deserve it but still,8

you just nodd and go sit in front of him

“well, i lashed out on you on that party because i didn’t get closure, i was obviously still hurt and petty and immature. Seeing you there was like a slap in the face, i really want to apologize but i feel like what i said was true,”

“and it was true, it took sometime to accept it and realiwe it, but you don’t need to apologize; i didn’t treat you right, so i am sorry,”

you give him a small smile, “i am also sorry, i shouldn’t have talked to you that way it was rude,”

“but true,” he adds and you chuckle

“yeah, it’s all fine now. we can start over again,”

“i mean, i’d like to,” he gives you a small, tiny smile but you could still see it

“y/n?”

“mmh?” you look at him, your mouth full and cheeks about to explode

“i know we just made up and stuff but... please be careful with that new trainee,”

“yuuji? what why?”

“look i’m a man and i know wha another man thinks when i see him in action, and he’s just... not trustworthy i guess,”

“tsukishima kei, tf are trying to say?”

“look, i don’t want you to get hurt! but he is all flirty with other women and it’s just a huge disrespect to you and your relationship,” he explains

you look at him with wide eyes than laugh your ass off, you couldn’t believe what you just heard

“tsukki, yuuji is my bestfriend we’re not dating,” you wipe a tear tha slipped

he just stares at you, “oh” is all what he could say

“thanks for worrying tho,”

“whatever,” he rolls his eyes

as the days went by you and kei got closer

he would tease you and you’d tease him back

“oi, salt shaker, put my stuff on a high shelf again and i’ll pull your highschool pictures when you played vb,”

“as if you still have them” he scoffs

“don’t mess with me!”

“whatever shortie- OW why would you throw the stapler at me?”

“it’s your mouth that i’m gonna staple next time,”

anyway it was all giggles and shit

you enjoyed working together and gaining your complicity back

the due date came, you had to present in front of 3 other CEOs and your own ceo

you did an amazing job, obviously

everyone liked the harmony between the two of you and how neat your work was

“WOHOO here’s my bad bitch,” yuuji hugged you after the deliberation

“stfu we’re not alone,” you laugh. “did i look good?” you ask

he smirks and checks you out, twirling you and wolf whistling, “hotter than ever and thicker than snicker,” you laugh at his remark

“uhm-uhm,” tsukishima came behind you

“hey, sushimika, good job out there,” yuuji gives him a big grin

tsukishima just nodds and his eyes dart to yuuji’s arm around your waist, something he notices

“erm anyway, Vanessa is calling me gotta go,” he kisses your head and leaves

“he’s one of a kind, i gotta admit,” you say pulling him out of his trance

“i mean, y’all are bestfriends so i’m not surprised,” you roll your eyes

“we did a good job out there, i mean i was better but you weren’t too bad yourself,” he smirks

“you’re so annoying,” you laugh. “i guess we make a good duo,”

you lookn at each other for a while before tsukki finally speaks up

“uhm look, i know it’s only been one month since we’re back to normal but... would you maybe like to have dinner with me?” he rubbs the back of his neck

“like a date?”

“you know what i mean y/n,” he rolls his eyes

“uhm sorry i don’t clearly see what you mean,” you grimace

“ugh alright, like on a date, would go with me yes or no ?”

you laugh at his impatience, “pick me up at 7,”

“is that a yes?”

“you know what i mean, tsukki,” you say as you leave

so the date went well

really well

you didn’t want to burn steps so you lowkey took your time in the process of getting back together

going on dates, talking everything out to build a strong base

work together was fun

i mean i’m not gonna talk about the sneaky make out sessions but haha you know 👀 

surely you got back together, even shared an appartement and you are the happiest you’ve ever been

he proposed 3 years after

fin

taglist : @fallingforyuu @ukhyeonn @yeonayona  @terminallyvolatile @bryai003​ @ichigo-post​ @virgyalizu​ 

i truly hope you like it, <3

[sylvies-chen]

You Make Me Feel So Young

Summary: Tim shows up at Lucy's apartment after struggling with some guilt, and finally gets that dance she'd saved for him.

Warnings: none

Words: 2.6K

A/N: For day 1 of the Chenford Fanfic Week 2021 organized by @therookiebook!! I'm so excited to participate, I hope you guys like this oneshot <3

AO3 link

++++++++

He feels guilty.

Lucy knows he does, even before he tells her. After everything at Angela’s wedding went down, after she and Jackson had been taken and nearly died, after the dust had settled from that entire stressful day, Lucy can feel the guilt oozing out of him.

Only Tim Bradford shows up at her door to talk about it, and it’s about the last thing she expects to happen.

Like, ever.

“Hey,” he blurts out as soon as she opens the door.

“Hi.” Lucy doesn’t know what to say but she knows the hand that’s holding onto the edge of her door feels numb all of a sudden and her breath gets caught in her throat.

“Can I come in?” Tim asks, trying to seem nonchalant. Lucy sees right through it, knows that him coming here alone, out of the blue, must mean something’s wrong. But she doesn’t say anything because she knows Tim takes a while sometimes to be able to open up. So instead, she nods.

“Yeah, of course.” Jackson’s out, so she lets Tim in without hesitation. Not that it’d matter if he were here, really, but she sees that broken, guilt-ridden look in Tim’s eyes and knows it’s best that they’re alone.

He plays it cool at first— out of self-preservation, she thinks— and looks around the apartment as she lets him in.

“This place looks a lot nicer than the last time I saw it,” he starts out.

“Yeah, well Cujo’s not around to tear up pillows anymore so I’d say it’s a big improvement,” she jokes meekly.

His hands are shoved in his pockets stiffly as he walks around her living room, glancing over to Jackson’s bedroom.

“Jackson’s not here?”

“No, he went to check up on Angela. I’m surprised you aren’t there too,” she adds.

“Why’s that?”

“Because it’s where you’ve been for the past week,” Lucy explains simply, glancing at him expectantly and waiting for him to talk. Not this kind of talk, not small talk or dancing around what he really needs to get off his chest, but for him to actually, really talk.

All does is stand by her couch, less than ten feet away from her, and avoid her gaze. She swears she can see his fists tensing up in the pockets of his jeans. “I didn’t realize you were keeping track.”

“I wasn’t.” She was . “I just know how worried you were about her when she was taken. I don’t blame you for not wanting to leave her side.”

“Just making up for what I didn’t do the first time, I guess,” he grumbles under his breath.

Lucy sighs, cutting their small talk short and getting to the point. “Why are you really here, Tim?”

Her bluntness surprises him, she thinks, because he blinks at her. “What?”

“Why are you here?” She repeats. “You’ve never shown up at my place randomly while off shift. Hell, I didn’t even think you’d remembered I live here. I know this past week has been intense but clearly you need something or else you wouldn’t have come here. So would you just tell me whatever it is you want to say so that I can help you?”

He exhales quietly, his chest shaking as it falls. “It’s my fault. Angela and Jackson nearly died, she nearly lost her baby, they were put in danger at her own damn wedding, and it’s… it’s my fault.”

“No, no,” she replies sympathetically, shaking her head. “It’s not. What happened to them happened because of La Fiera, not you.”

“I was her man of honour,” he explains with a dry and slightly sarcastic chuckle. “Where’s the honour in failing to protect the bride?”

“If you really felt that, you wouldn’t have come here. You knew,” she tells him, her voice determined and fierce. “You knew I wouldn’t let you sit here and feel sorry for yourself. If you wanted to sit around feeling sorry for yourself you would have gone to a bar, alone. But you came here, which means somewhere deep down you know you couldn’t have done anything to stop it.”

For one of the only times since Lucy’s known him, Tim Bradford is speechless. He looks for words but finds none, huffs, and sits down on her couch, fiddling nervously with his thumbs. Her heart sinks at the sight of it. This guilt of his isn’t going away with anything she says, she knows that now. Healing takes time, so all she can really do is just be there for him.

She sits down next to him on the couch, leaving only an inch of space. “You don’t have to carry the weight of everything, you know,” she continues gently. “You take on so much, you don’t always have to feel so responsible for every bad thing that happens. That’s no way to live.”

“I’m a cop,” he shrugs painfully. “I became a cop because I wanted to keep helping people, protecting them. So sure, it might make me a more serious person, but I do it because it’s supposed to be what I do best.”

“I get that. But no one’s perfect. I’m not perfect, even with all of your Tim tests,” she teases meekly. “That doesn’t mean you did anything wrong. You fought hard to get both of them back and you did. You did that. Angela’s home now, she and the baby are safe and alright. That’s what matters.”

He looks at her, stunned but greatly appreciative. “Thanks,” he offers, slightly begrudgingly, after a moment. “I just... thanks .”

“I think I have something of yours,” she tells him gently, changing the subject to lighten the mood. Because if she can’t assuage his guilt then at the very least, she can make him feel better; feel happy again.

Tim’s brows scrunch up, sending a confused look her way. Lucy wordlessly moves to pull out her phone, connecting it to the small wireless speaker on the coffee table. The buttons crisply click as she turns up the volume, pressing play on the first ballad she finds in her list of varied songs. (But her taste in music isn’t actually as diverse as she’d like and is really just filled with K-pop tracks).

The music streams through the speaker and throughout the apartment, audible but still quiet so as not to disturb the other tenants. Tim stays seated as Lucy stands up, still confused but shifting to the edge of his seat as if being drawn to her by an unnamed force.

Lucy finally extends her open palm, giving him a shy but cheeky grin. “Your dance, Officer Bradford?”

Realization hits and Tim’s shoulders relax a little. “I don’t know, I’m not in the mood for dancing right now.”

“Come on,” she pleads. “It’ll make you feel better, I promise. Or, at the very least, it’ll give you something to tease me about at work.”

Tim gives a hearty chuckle, smiling widely as he accepts her hand. It makes Lucy smile too. Why shouldn’t it? He’s always so surly and serious, making him laugh would make anyone proud and giddy. Right?

“Alright. After you, Officer Chen,” he replies as she pulls him off the couch and onto the rug in her living room. His hand is warm. They’re calloused, and bigger than hers to the point where her fingers get swallowed up in his as he gives her hand a squeeze. But god, they’re so warm and safe . Her mind can’t stop coming back to that observation, no matter how much she knows she shouldn’t.

Tim’s other hand finds her waist, his grip gentle. Her hand flies to his chest, pulling him in until her chin is inches away from resting on his shoulder.

Up until now, space hasn’t really been an issue for them. The only time there’d been this much physical contact between them was last year when Caleb had buried her alive. Even then, the situation had allowed for a special exception. She’d needed all the physical and emotional support she could get at that moment, and Tim had provided it for her.

Now though, there's no exception, no special circumstance, no excuse. They’re dancing while wrapped up in each other solely because they want to be, and that change is enough to terrify Lucy. She doesn’t move though, only keeps swaying to the music and letting out small, shaky breaths.

What can she say? She never was one to back down from something that scared her.

“You’re a good dancer,” Lucy points out quietly.

“You’re not half bad yourself,” he replies, his breath catching onto her neck and sending a delightful shiver down her spine.

“Is it safe to say you’re enjoying yourself? You feel more relaxed, I daresay you’re having fun,” she tries teasing.

“I’m just surprised,” he counters. “I was prepared for my toes to endure some serious stomping.”

“Oh please, like my tiny toes could ever harm you.” Her nose scrunches playfully as she feigns a threatening look, which makes Tim smile again. What is it with that smile of his killing her softly?

“I don’t know, you’re a lot tougher than you look.”

“Was that a compliment?” She asks teasingly.

“Don’t tell Nova, she’ll get jealous,” he jokes back, continuing to sway to the music.

“Yeah but I bet she’d love this,” Lucy remarks. In her head, she adds that the line between herself and Nova is getting blurred but it goes unspoken and, eventually, ignored.

“Nova’s not the only one,” he risks replying. “You’re right. This is… nice .”

Tim leans back a little to meet her eye, the swaying decelerating until they’re standing in her living room. Alone. With an intense and inviting gaze piercing into her eyes.

“It is,” Lucy agrees. Her voice is barely audible and before she can think twice, she blurts out probably the worst thing she could ever think of: the thing she means with every fiber of her being. “I wish we could stay like this forever.”

She really does mean it. She wants to stay there forever, where everything feels good and safe and right . Only she hadn’t meant to say that out loud, per se. To her surprise though, he doesn’t react poorly to it. Instead, he flashes the smallest smile and nods in agreement, swallowing hard. "Me too."

He looks so young like that, something juvenile and exciting radiating off of him like a breath of fresh air. For a second, she almost thinks he’s the same age as her.

And oh fuck , something just clicks after that.

His lips part only slightly, his eyes glimmering with something intense and hopeful. Her skin is on fire, her heart is racing, and every neuron in her brain is telling her to look away but she can’t. She can’t escape his eyes. Lucy doesn’t know what this thing between them is, only that one minute, they’re dancing and the next, they’re… doing something else. The swaying stops and everything comes to a glaring halt as the song starts to come to a gradual end. They’re left with nothing to do but stand there and look at each other. It’s almost like he’s listened to her and that somehow, he’s made them become completely frozen in time so that maybe, just maybe, they really could stay here forever.

Admittedly, terrifyingly, Lucy would have no complaints about that.

They’re holding each other too— god , she almost forgot about his hands on her wait, on her back. They’re strong and massive and yet so gentle. And before she knows it, they’re pulling her in closer and closer.

His face is inches apart from her, their lips so close. She shouldn’t be thinking about his lips, about any of the things she’s feeling right now, but she can feel his breath and it makes it impossible to think of anything else. Her chest is almost pressed against his and she wonders if Tim can feel the shaky rise and fall of her chest against his.

They get closer again, and closer, and closer…

Then, the door clicks and swings open, sending her and Tim jumping apart.

The moment ends before it ever has a chance to start.

“Hey, I’m back,” Jackson calls out as he walks in, checking his phone. “So fire up the next episode of Love Island and put in the popcorn because I am ready to g—”

Jackson stops mid-sentence once he looks up from his phone and finds Lucy, standing next to Tim as they both look away from each other with flushed cheeks and awkward coughs from their throats. The music on her phone has stopped now, thankfully, but the light from the speaker still flashes to indicate it’s on and Jackson soaks in the whole scene. He meets it with confusion though, his brows furrowing.

“Uhh… What’s going on here?”

“I was just about to leave,” Tim announces, looking down at the floor as he makes a beeline for his coat.

“Right, yeah,” Lucy nods. “I’ll see you tomorrow then, I guess?”

“Yeah, of course. Uh, bye,” he replies awkwardly, his eyes meeting Lucy’s one last time with something that she daresay looks like disappointment— like yearning. Jackson’s still there though, and so the moment is short-lived. Tim’s hands fly back into his pockets, just as stiff as they were when he first came over, and he leaves. The door shuts behind him abruptly.

Lucy stares at the door where Tim used to be, her shoulders sagging in a disappointment of her own, but she turns to see Jackson staring at her and knows she has no way to explain… well, to explain whatever the hell just happened.

“You want to tell me why Tim was here?”

“He felt guilty about what happened with you and Angela,” she explains, a little defensively. “I was just talking it out with him.”

“Sure, yeah,” Jackson nods with an unconvinced laugh, “that’s why you two jumped apart like frogs as soon as I came in.”

“We did not jump apart ,” she protests.

“Ok, if you say so,” he concedes, his hands up in surrender. “Besides, whatever you two were doing here, I just—… don’t want to know.” He lets out a small chuckle after that, shaking his head as he moves to grab a pack of unpopped popcorn out of the cupboard and put it in the microwave.

“It was nothing,” she mumbles quietly. “Nothing happened.”

It’s the first real lie she’s told that night. Jackson drops it after that though, and she sighs to herself as she sits back down on the couch.

She closes her eyes as the microwave buzzes and Jackson starts to ramble about his visit with Angela, slowly transporting herself back to that dance with Tim.

Maybe she’s wrong for this, maybe she’s completely insane and unprofessional. But as she plays it over in her head, her own words ring through her head and she realizes that maybe she really did want to stay like that with Tim forever.

Oh, screw it . She knows she did. It’s not a fact she can necessarily scream out to the world, but she did.

To Lucy, there are much worse things to want to be.

[moral-turpitudes]

Trouble Maker:

A/N: I got a lil carried away but I hope this is decent. I don’t do many headcanons lol.

Trigger Warnings: Swearing, Mentions of Drinking and Drug use.

Headcanon Pair: Thomas Shelby x Shelby!Sister Reader - Based off Angst Prompt #7 from my Peaky Prompts List.

Requested: Yes

Requested by: Anon (You can see the request Here)

Summary: Growing rebellious in her teenage years, Y/N embarks on a journey of defying her brother and the rest of the Shelby family. But little does she know that her actions have consequences.

 Out of all the Shelby siblings, Y/N would be the one to follow the rules up until a certain point. As she’d grow older she’d notice how Ada got away with more things and how Finn would gradually be integrated into the illegal business of her older blinder brothers.

With a scornful look she’d sit through the family meetings, picking at her manicured nails as her older brother Thomas would tell her what she couldn’t do. All while giving orders to the others.

One day though, Y/N decided to challenge Tommy’s authority. Instead of nodding and going along with things, she decided with a drunken voice, racing heart, and clenched fists that she’d say no to the person she somewhat looked up to.

Her defiance would’ve started out small. If he asked her to finish filing a whole stack of papers, she’d file only half, giving herself a much needed break after looking at proposals and betting statistics all day. Then she’d make a glass of whiskey for herself, because if Finn could have some why couldn’t she?

Thomas wouldn’t really catch on at first, thinking she’d just forgotten to do half of the filing, but after one particular family meeting, he realized she was getting into more trouble than she led on.

Y/N had a habit of sneaking off with friends in the middle of the night while Polly would be sleeping. Knowing when and where Polly would go to bed and where the door key was hidden. With careful steps she’d walk through the house, holding her breath tiptoeing at certain points as she made her way to the door and then making a mad-dash outside as her friends chuckled near the streetlights.

Together they would snort cocaine and sneak smokes from people while at the Garrison, where they’d always arrive before closing. The bartender was always too tired to care. Tommy’s on-the-house rule still applying as the group sat around the bar. She had the Shelby name after all, so technically she could get a drink or 10, for free.

If the group wasn’t drinking alcohol or trying drugs, they’d wander through the night, goofing off in the fields until sunrise. But the night she defied Tommy, was also the night she was caught by Polly.

She had a feeling Y/N had been gone several nights in a row when she’d go past her room and not hear the light snoring that usually came from inside. And on that night she noticed her bed was made, never having been laid in the previous day, without a Y/N to be seen. In a panic, this caused Polly to call Thomas, waking him from an already disturbed sleep.

“She’s not here Tom. I think she’s been sneaking out. Don’t know how long but this isn’t like her.” She’d say.

“I’ll call a meeting. If she returns just bring her in.” He’d say, his voice tired and groggy.

Y/N would usually take her time, but her and her friends got carried away, so she stumbled home half-drunk on whiskey. Not realizing how late it had been.

As she opened the door, she’d see Polly standing there, her coat on and her arms crossed over her chest. Her eyes staring holes through her.

“Y/N...I’m glad you’re home. We have a family meeting.” She said as the clock struck 4 in the morning.

“I...Pol...I can...explain.” She said, her head fuzzy as she made her way into her room, Polly on her heels.

“You won’t just be explaining this to me, you’ll be explaining this to the whole bloody family young lady. You’re too young and too sweet to be out in this fucking town this late...And I thought Finn would be a problem...” She said, lighting a cigarette in her doorway as Y/N rummaged around for a heavier coat.

“I’d rather sleep but whatever Tommy wants Tommy gets aye?” Y/N asked, chugging the rest of a glass of water that was near her bedside.

The ride there would be quiet and awkward, Polly periodically looking over at her youngest niece as she’d stick her drunken head out the window. The early morning air relieving the nausea she felt.

“I’ll have your neck if you throw up in this car, Y/N. I swear it.” She said.

“I’m not Pol. How much longer till we got to the bastards house?” She’d say, not knowing what the time was as the old buildings whizzed by.

“We’ll get there soon. You’re staying there.” She said.

She groaned lightly as they neared the fields leading to Arrow House. The dark brick building sending a shiver down her spine as they eventually made it to the drive way.

It was then she knew she’d fucked up. The contents from the nights shenanigans decorating the paved walkway up to the house.

Thomas stood at the door nonchalantly, with his dusty black coat over his night clothes. He usually slept with trousers on, usually neglecting to wear a shirt, but since he had unexpected company he had to look like he cared at least somewhat.

“Good morning Tommy. Are the others inside?” Polly would ask, Y/N retching loudly in the background.

“Mhmm.” He mumbled, a blank expression on his face as he flicked the last of his cigarette on the concrete steps.

Once inside and mostly recovered, Y/N would hesitantly walk into his office. The blinders all in varying night clothes and coats, their eyes puffy from being woken up at such an hour.

“Y/N, nice of you to join us.” Thomas would say. Pouring a glass of whiskey for himself, making her look away in disgust for the time being.

“Would you like to tell us where you’ve been running off to? You of all people should know better aye?” He’d ask as she sat in a chair before him.

“I just wanted to be with my friends Tom....you all get to run ‘round town at all hours with god knows who and I’m stuck in the house. Even fucking Finn gets to.” She’d say, flicking Finn off in the process.

“Aye don’t you bring me into thi-“ Finn would start to say, getting out of his chair with a furrowed brow and his face flushed in anger.

“Sit down, Finn. This isn’t your concern.” Polly snapped, leaning back in her chair. Finn sighing in the corner, rubbing his eyes.

“I’m tired of all this....this bullshit...Do this Y/N. Do that. File these papers. Don’t drink, Don’t stay out past 5. Don’t do anything that makes you happy.” She’d say mockingly.

“I don’t do that last one. You know I tell you to do those things to keep you out of trouble right? I’m trying to keep you away from the illegal business.” He’d say, lighting another cigarette.

“Well you’re doing a shit job.” She’d remark bluntly, crossing her arms over her chest as she remembered striking a small deal with a drug-runner all because of her last name. They weren’t a threat to the family, but it made her defiance all the more alluring as she scored drugs for her friends under his nose.

“Later today I want you to go to your friends and tell them you won’t be out past 8...I’m being generous.” He’d say.

“No.” Her eyes boring into him as she snapped back. Thomas would look at her then, feeling more like a parent than an older sibling at that point.

“Do you have a death wish?” He’d ask.

“Might as well.” She’d say, the alcohol making her not fear him as much this time around.

“Very well. Tomorrow, you’ll join us at the races. If you want to be like us, you’ll have to do it the hard way.” He’d say, getting up from his chair to stand near her.

“Thomas I’m not letting her watch you all kill someone.” Polly would say sternly.

“If she doesn’t want to be in the shop, there’s only one other place, Pol. Let’s just hope she remembers this later.” He’d say, teasingly blowing a cloud of smoke in Y/N’s direction as she swatted it away.

“You bastard...I’ll go, but I’m not ruining my friendships for this fucked up family.” She’d say, walking out of the room and up the stairs to the spare bedroom. Her head was starting to pound as she laid on the bed, her eyes begging for sleep to take her, even if she had to face the consequences later.

“What will you do if she doesn’t want to go Tom? She’s too sweet to be ‘round all that.” Arthur asked.

“If she can run off and drink and do drugs and talk back to us, I think she can handle a day at the races. It’ll show her the other side, Finn was like that too.” He’d say, pointing his cigarette at the young blinder.

“Oh fuck off Tom.” He’d say, almost drifting off.

“You’re both alike, should’ve expected that.” Polly remarked, noting how Y/N was a year younger than Finn, making them sickeningly similar.

After the meeting he’d excuse them all, probably telling the boys to rest up for the races and for Polly and the others to help with the legitimate business at the shop.

Not long after everyone’s departure though, he’d most likely creak the door open to the spare bedroom. An annoyed look on his face but a sense of relief washing over him as he saw his youngest sister was safe and sound. He’d sneakily put a glass of water near her despite him never drinking any himself half the time. And making sure her head was propped up enough before gently closing the door behind him.

As much as his sister was beginning to be a pain in his side, he would fight anyone in the world for her, and he could see that in her as well. She may defy his orders, but she could never defy the family completely, they just cared too damn much about her to let her go.