#and of course he'd choose this asshole over me if it came to it

[marsixm]

drama w the management at work literally has me on my taylor swift rn like hes literally cheer captain and im on the bleachers fr fr 😔

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

in the sugar and spice universe, the boys know that she cams and i assume that she’s aware that her roommates watch, but does she know about ransom watching?

a/n: i. am. gnawing. at. my. cage.

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

sugar & spice au masterlist | 101, intro to the au

masterlist | join my taglist

we’ve already established that his discovery of your little hobby was what ended your relationship. i imagine that he fell over your stream while just browsing for something to jerk off to and then BOOM, there you were. 

in true asshole fashion, he of course confronted you about it in a big ol fight:

“choose. come on. me or that.”

“ransom,” you sighed as he kept on pushing.

“come on,” he roared, “just pick goddamn it!”

“that!” you blurted as he kept on yelling, “i wanna keep camming!” though that statement hadn’t been what he’d predicted, “it makes me happy and you–…”

“…i don’t?”

“not lately…”

“well how else would you think i’d react to finding out my girl has secretly been whoring herself out to anyone with an internet connection?”

the slap you then crack against his cheek echoed throughout the whole room, “fuck you,” you spat, “don’t ever talk to me, don’t even look at me, ever again.”

and then you tried to stay as far away from him as possible even though i think he would have kept trying to worm his way back into your good graces (because he obviously fucked up)

you also moved in with steve, bucky and curtis after the breakup and i imagine they began to act as your bodyguards when it came to your ex. keeping an eye out and helping you avoid him at all costs. 

but the thing is, from the moment that he first discovered your stream, and honestly also as a way to lick his wounds post-breakup, he kept going back to it, kept opening up the website till it was permanently open on his phone, always ready for when you went live or posted something (a pic or vid or just flirty message)

it was like an addiction and he couldn’t stop

he wasn’t even ashamed about it because to him it was a way to keep your faded relationship alive, keep you with him and for a generous tip (which he could more than afford as the trust fund kid he was) you’d still do as he wished, still follow his sinful commands.

turn around, let me see that ass

be a good girl and turn up the speed

send me those panties after you’ve soaked them with your cream, i’ll pay double your usual rate for the underwear you sell.

did you know that TittyCokeKingXXX, one of your most loyal followers and top tippers, was your ex? hell no.

how would you finally discover his true identity? maybe it would be at a party you’re both at, a celebration after the football team’s latest victory (of which both your roomies steve and bucky are on, but unfortunately so is ransom) 

he probably gets too drunk and then the truth starts slipping out

maybe he thinks he still has a shot, but just as you turn him down, he gets petty and accidentally blurts out, “well you didn’t seem to have a problem with me last night when you were calling me sir and making yourself squirt in the shower.” 

the image of you crumbled on the tile floor, shower head blasting in your hand as you ripped it away from your overstimulated clit was still seared into his brain. tits all soapy, yet he could still make out the faint letters of the possessive scrawling he'd paid you to scribble with marker the week before reading daddy’s girl

“…how do you know that?” you uttered and he suddenly realised that he’d actually said those words out loud and not just thought them as usual, “ransom, how the fuck do you know that?”

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[nectardaddy]

full throttle | sakusa kiyoomi

chapter nine | really? | 🏎️

masterlist

Kiyoomi never was one for loud, obnoxious behavior; but he supposed he'd let it go - just this once. A crowd full of people screaming, cheering, and his friend's whoops and yells filled his ears. Yet he still scanned the crowd for her, even through Atsumu jumping and grabbing at his shoulders. Through Hinata and Bokuto's repeated chants of "you won!" And "holy shit!" He still wanted to find her, thank her, something than just stand where he was.

A little less than twenty minutes later, he found himself searching. A nightmare of a man to his pr team, as his answers to interviews and questions more standoffish and broody than normal. Completely disinterested in what they had to ask, say, or comment on; his team thanked a higher power he wore a mask, or his scowl would've tanked his ratings.

Pulling out his phone, he visibly smiled at the slew of notifications on his phone. Scrolling and scrolling until he finally found what he was looking for - her texts were the only ones that mattered.

"What did you think about this time when you were driving?" A simple question asked with a bright smile, a cheeky toned laced within her words. Walking back to his car as a pair, together, no one ahead and no one behind.

"That you wanted me to kick their asses," responding with a similar smile to her own.

"Oh, come on," urging him to be serious and she let out a chuckle. "No way you thought about that."

"When I was with Atsumu I did," a chuckle passing his lips through his words. Shoving his hands into his pockets, changing just before he began his search, and looked over to her. "I thought about the same thing as yesterday actually."

"Really?"

"Really."

A small pause entered the air, but one that was welcomed. Not one similar to the morning that was uncomfortable and thick, but endearing and gentle. A natural lull in conversation rather than the lack there of. Cheers from fans and onlookers alike, all still walking to go to their cars, were completely ignored by him. Choosing the peace that came with brief silence rather than chaos of strangers.

"Today was really fun," her words prompting the conversation to start up once more.

"I'm glad you liked it, I'm happy you got to come."

"Yeah, me too."

Another pause. Less welcomed and more tense, a red hue building on his cheeks though completely hidden through a mask. Among other reasons, he was grateful more than ever for it now. "Are you going out tonight?" Clearing this throat after he asked, feeling all the more rigid from his out of character question.

"Aren't we all?" A confused tone leaving her lips and brows furrowing. Watching her features turn at her statement, he slowly fit the puzzle pieces together.

"One of those idiots already invited you out with us, didn't they?" Words leaving his mouth rather coarsely as he rolled his eyes, a sigh soon leaving after.

"Bokuto invited my friends too," she corrected and warranted another sigh from him. "I didn't know if you would actually go or not? Miya told us you would- but it's Miya."

"Of course he said that."

"So, you're not going?" Confusion sinking in deeper than before, choosing now to look at the ground. Watching her steps rather than look to him; the man was an enigma, always teetering between kind and too blunt.

"Did you want to?" His tone pushing almost exasperated, but he was quick to change it around. Not wanting another conversation of how much of an asshole he was to ensue once more. "Did you want to go," repeating his statement once more, feeling silly for even letting himself get this nervous, "with me?"

Eyes that were once glued to the ground now found themselves looking to the man once again. "Yes," replying all too hurriedly at his question; as there was nothing she wanted more in the moment. However, she quickly let out a nervous chuckle, fighting the desperate allegations in her mind. "Yeah, I'd love to go with you."

omi is and will always be a pr NIGHTMARE

they ask him questions like "how did you think you did" or "how do you feel about your win" and just replying with a simple good and nothing else

yes king give us nothing!!

people are obsessed with him because he's so pretty though (me I'm people)

yes this is supposed to be awkward as hell

komori really doesn't want to get his ass beat by yn

she almost broke atsumu's nose in high school at a party because he wouldn't leave her alone

I love atsumu even though I'm dragging him through the dirt in this

taglist under cut

@wyrcan @hilichurl-lover @neuviloved @mayariviolet @wqnsho

@chosugarplum @dontmindtheevie @ilyless @phoenix-eclipses @kitnootkat

@azuremyst99 @wolffmaiden

[yujeong]

Time was at a standstill. Vegas was holding his breath without noticing, and continued to hold it when he did - he was afraid of what would happen if he exhaled loudly enough to draw attention to himself. His gaze was shifting between Pete and the man who was standing before them in the doorway, blocking their entrance. Vegas had never seen him before, but even so, he recognized Pete in him enough to know who he was. A dangerous aura surrounded him. There was an edge to his presence that Vegas would only come across people of certain circles. He was a fighter. A muay khao. Pete's father. Shame coursed through Vegas' body, smearing his skin, settling in his lungs, rendering him speechless. I thought he was dead, he wanted to tell Pete if he could. He wanted to scream at him, I thought you killed him. Pete was the one who broke the stillness. As if awakened by something, he took a half-step back and made a motion with his arms, almost raising them to his chest, but not quite. In an instant, Pete reverted into the pet Vegas had been keeping at the safehouse, bound by handcuffs and afraid of his belt hitting flesh and drawing blood. A lump formed in Vegas' throat. "Have you stopped practicing? Your form is off." The uncanny similarities between Pete and his father appearance-wise didn't mean a thing when it came to their voices. Vegas shivered. Was this what Pete would sound like in a few decades? (Were these the condescending words he'd choose to spew? Was Pete going to embody his father? Was Vegas embodying his?) "What are you doing here?" Pete whispered. "They let me out for a few days, so I came here to collect some money. Imagine my surprise when I found out my offspring left the job someone found him worthy enough of doing to... do what exactly? Yaai didn't want to tell me." He crossed his arms, waiting for an answer. Vegas didn't know what he was allowed to say. If he was allowed to say anything at all. "It's none of your business." "I'd say it very much is my business, as well as yaai's business who was dependent on the money you were making being some rich asshole's human shield." A choked sound scratched Vegas' throat. He didn't like getting reminded of Pete being the main family's bodyguard, even though he stopped being one mere months ago. Especially like this. That was the first time Pete's father stopped looking at his son and turned his head to look at Vegas. For a moment, there seemed to be recognition in his eyes. Did he know who Vegas was? Did he care? A snort came out of his mouth. He leaned on the door. "Oh, I see how it is." He laughed, scratched his neck. "I never expected you to whore yourself out for money. Tell me, is it preferable to the path I carved out for you?" Vegas could sense the disgust in his voice. He could also see it on Pete's face. He was too astonished to share it, but not enough to be unable to speak. "Khun, there has been some misunderstanding-" "Don't bother. I can recognize a faggot when I see one." Pete's movements were too fast for Vegas to stop him. A direct jab to the nose; his father fell like a pack of cards, groaning like a wounded animal. Surprisingly, no blood - Pete held back. Vegas didn't know what to think about that. "That was a pathetic attack, even for you." "Get up." "We're not in the ring, son." Pete growled. Vegas could see his hands trembling as he was keeping them in the air, maintaining an offensive stance. "That never stopped you before." "You were too young to understand what I was doing back then. What I was preparing you for." Pete was silent. "The world isn't kind. It'll fuck you over one way or another." He got up, spat on the ground. "You still haven't learned a thing. You're too old to afford being naive." He turned around, and without sparing a look at Pete again, said: "Now get the fuck out of my house." (For @musictooth, whose posts about Pete's father have reignited my passion for this specific concept and for @wretchedamaranth, whose comments on my writing are always lovely and precious ❤️)

[noobsomeexagerjunk]

pentiment review & thoughts

so. i played pentiment. writing this while at my 4th play (with my first and third as same stats, different accusations). bookworm, hedonist, bookworm again, and now businessman. having a lot of fun so far.

was prompted bc 1) this game is a common rec for disco elysium players, 2) i got andreas maler in a blorbo uquiz, so of course i had to see what the fuss was about

spoilers, obviously:

prefacing first that. uh, i got into this game with relatively surface-level understanding of the late middle ages/early renaissance, and like very little of how this impacted germany. god bless the glossary. the only thing really guiding me was being catholic + my familiarity with benedictines (the people who ran the all-girls catholic school i studied in) so uh

given that, my 1st andreas had his wanderjahre in Italy, is a bookworm with skills towards Oratory and Logic, possessing a Master's in Theology. this will be about the first play

act i

what an introduction. i played off my andreas as an intellectual with a love for God but also a concern for people regardless of class, and i just went around being as respectful as possible. emphasis on "as possible," bc i can refuse to be a Lutheran and still criticize the abbey actually <- pissed off both gernot and rothvogel

the DRUCKERS! my best friends :)

spent much of my dinners with the farmer-peasants. had a meal with sebhat as well. tassing is so alive!!!

the implication that andreas fell asleep if you choose to watch matthieu and rüdeger go at it is very funny to me. monk sex is boring ig. also sorry zdena, im too worried about piero to fuck you right now

why did i think the baron was just an intellectual outcast. of course he's an asshole who abuses his power

THE KIDS! THEY ARE SO LOVELY!

none of these suspects feel like the murderers. tbh i probably should've settled on lucky bc he had the most damning evidence in retrospect. but ferenc just had more, and i was able to push him to the archdeacon

i am a coward and did not look at the execution

act ii

this Andreas just came from France!

"you are banned from the abbey, but i need you to come join me for dinner" okay father gernot???

the golden hand inn looks sooo pretty. surprised i could only make conversation with samuel until the troops were like, really close/the drinking quest

things got worse, a revolt is in formation. this was apparently a trend all over germany at the time, and not limited to tassing. weirdly familiar huh

when you want to escape from your problems via involving yourself from the problems others instead

caspar my boy! im glad to have known you

the Sommerfelds are so lovely

these aqueducts are so cool

it was so much easier to pick Guy, as far as the evidence i got on him is concerned. your embezzlement had an effect on the abbey's management of tassing, which is now biting all of you in the ass

i knew Lenhardt was an ass but i didnt think he'd go as far as to protect the accused

that ending holy shit

act iii

haha i opened tumblr before getting here and got spoiled about the mysterious guy following magdalene

my magdalene bg is Vitae Sanctorum, Bookkeeping, Haggle, & Volksbücher

Ötz you are adorable but you do not suit Magda at all

it does not help that the town ships the two

every single theme is coming together. the question... of history!

the letter writing being so prominent here is very felt

the familiar and unfamiliar are so clouded as time progresses, its insane

apparently ill peter can live *that* long

i learned the hard way after my first run that werner will be an outright asshole in act iii if andreas doesnt speak with him well via my second run; see, my major and only interaction with the guy in run 1 is during the drinks quest in act ii. the difference is stark

martha pfieffer i wish i got more time with you <- got her contemplating the monastic life in the 1st run only? i wonder what triggers this

fucked up that i couldnt send sister susanne out. i think i played my magda too nice with the nuns

snitched on the twins immediately whoops. this is fine, i can go down the mines myself

haha i thought baltas was an act iii-only character, i straight up didnt interact with him during act ii and probably forgot he spoke during the discovery of otto's body

the readying for christmas was sooo brain-sctatchy. seeing the direct effects of our choices in the previous acts, it's so!!!

gotta be real, i thought the discussions on historiography and historical revisionism were like, just there? i didn't think it would be the core of the problem but. of course it is. it makes me feel very stupid for not pointing at father thomas sooner

like, if you spend significant amounts of time with the guy enough, his distrust of collective lay men and assertion towards the authority of the church is like, very very obvious. you see it during the dinner with the baron. when he says the words that triggers peter into burning the abbey. when you talk about claus publishing the 12 articles and agreeing upon the suggestion of banning book reading. the story of how he and sister amalie escaped the fire from their old abbey. in my 3rd run, i got strong hints when i (andreas) decided to eat with the albans (fr. thomas is present in the meal), particularly when discussing the strictness of the abbot

also, notably, in my 3rd run, during the conversation with father thomas for the christian tassing quest, a Vitae Sanctorum Magdalene can ask about the veracity of the story regarding the marian apparition, our lady of the labyrinth. when father thomas asks why she's pondering on it, if Magda is also of Volksbücher bg, she can bring up comparisons to a story she read about a man who tricked a town into believing a head he possessed was a relic from a saint. Father Thomas will then outright ask whether Magdalene thinks that it is valid of the guy to lie about that. Whatever you make Magda respond, he clearly values it. that fucked me up upon discovery, especially since i chose not to question the story of the church in my first run. that's outright foreshadowing, especially since that conversation literally takes place inside said church

anyways, i considered for a moment as to how conscious Sister Amalie was about the notes she wrote. to my fury (against thomas) and relief (for her), she was very unaware. fucking hell, i love christian mystics, and i outright ignored the implications of father thomas as her interpreter

like, i knew such interpreters would twist the testimonies of mystics to assert the church's authority, but. i assumed that this, like the obvious real-time historical revisionism in-game, was just shit that happens. not the core. another blow to my observation skills, but what matters to me is that i figured it out eventually

i had an inkling claus would die but not like that D":

like. magda on christmas eve. dad's friend is back from the dead. the town priest has been responsible for the deaths of people who risked the secrets of the town. dad is dead. idk if the devs over there are interested in spin-offs, but the time between christmas 1543 and when magda leaves for prague should be known

the müller kids really take after their parents, and seeing them interact with old man maler really warmed my heart

ugh, what a lovely game. it deserves its praises

[kinktae]

Btw what kind of requests you want? Like quick little drabble requests? Cause ngl cockwarming with Taehyung been on my mind all week😳

i went slightly off script but ok no bc imagine ur sleeping on ur side and u wake up to kisses being pressed against your shoulder.....

TW: cockwarming, masturbation, slight somnophilia(?)

Pairing: taehyung x f!reader

+18 CONTENT

"Baby..." He'd coo, moving to press himself into your back.

He knows you're tired and half asleep but he's missed you so bad. Plus, you looked so pretty sleeping in your shared bed, sporting one of his favorite t-shirts.

"'M tired." You'd whine, clearly exhausted, shuffling back closer into him. Because sleepy as you were, you also missed your boyfriend. There wasn't a minute that went by where you didn't crave his presence and warmth.

"Was thinking about you all day..." He frowned, pout pursed innocently as he snaked a hand over your hip and down between your plush thighs, pressing another kiss to your skin as he found your clothed clit. Your lips parted as a shaky breath left you, your own hands coming to grab at his wrist.

He paid you no mind, of course, loving to feign the oblivious.

"Did you miss me, sweetheart?" He asked, making your head bounce.

"Missed you so much, Tae." Your eyes fluttered closed, enjoying the way his fingers worked you like only he could.

"You sleepy, baby?" Taehyung hummed, pushing aside your damp underwear, and to your surprise, slipping himself inside you. The two of you shared a gasp, the stretch impossible to miss.

You nearly let out a whine as his fingers left your clit, choosing instead to rest on your hip, offering it a intimate squeeze.

"Goodnight, then." He stilled. You blinked in disbelief, looking over your shoulder at your boyfriend who, indeed, appeared to be asleep. But you knew him well. And no amount of fake snores could conceal the way he was trying to hide that knowing smirk.

Surely, he must be joking. He was literally inside you?

Whimpering, you pressed your hips back in hopes of some sort of friction.

You pouted as his grip on you tightened, keeping you in place.

"Tae, please..." You whined sleepily. Your body was too exhausted to properly move, and you were simply too aroused by now to just go back to sleep.

His answer came in the form of soft breathing, his head snuzzled into your neck.

"Asshole."

Your fingers found your clit desperately, cheeks burning in shame. You were just so worked up and his cock was stretching you so nicely. His familiar scent engulfed you, somehow spurring your lewd actions on. He had you completely and utterly wrapped around his finger, your own fingers rolling over your sensitive bud.

At the sounds of your familiar moans, Taehyung opened his eyes, peering over your shoulder to see the way your hand had disappeared between your thighs, clearly touching yourself while still around his cock.

"Oh, fuck."

"Tae... Tae, won't you fuck me? Please?" You pleaded, looking over at him.

You looked so sweet, eyes watery and brows furrowed. He nearly lost all composure, wondering when his girl became so needy.

"What's this? I gave you my cock and its still not enough?" He grunted, a more primal part of him surfacing. All you could do was nod obediently, an apology or two slipping your lips as you felt his cock twitch inside you.

"It's so late." Taehyung sighed, stilling your hand and pulling himself from you in one quick motion.

You didn't have a chance to voice your protests before you were pushed onto your back, your boyfriend shifting to sit between your legs. You let out a breath as he gripped your inner thigh, spreading your already swollen pussy out for him. His other hand was wrapped around his hard cock, rocking his tip up and down your slit.

He grinned darkly, "Guess I'll just have to fuck you until you tire out for real."

[elaineonline]

NSFW ALPHABET | TOJI FUSHIGURO

NOTE: omg! this was fun (*^^*) who shall be next? :)

reblogs are fine with me :D

A - Aftercare (what is he like after sex)

He wasn't big on aftercare before meeting you, but now that he's in a more serious relationship with you, he wants to make sure you're taken care of. But since he deeply cares about you, he'd do whatever to make sure you get what you need, whether it’s feeding you, giving you a bath, cuddling with you, you name it.

B - Body part (his favorite body part, as well as his partner's body part)

He enjoys working with his hands and using his arms. He enjoys picking you up and throwing you around like a rag doll, as well as holding you in his enormous muscular arms while fucking into you.

and what about you? He loves every inch of you, every part of you. But, if he had to choose, he enjoys latching onto your breasts and watching them bounce as he fucks you with your legs thrown over his shoulders. (no matter the size)

C- Cum (mostly anything to do with cum)

When he's going to cum, he normally asks where you want it, which is usually inside of you. He enjoys breeding you and watching your cum combine with his as it spreads along his cock.

D - Dirty secret (his dirty secret)

As the old couple next door go for their daily walk, he wants to fuck you from behind against your guy's glass window making them spot you guys. He’s manifesting for that to happen one day.

E - Experience (how experienced is he? Does he know what he's doing?)

Before you came along, he'd had a few hook-ups with women, so he'd always known what to do. Back when he was a virgin, though, he'd automatically know what to do based on all the porn he'd watch on a regular basis. Even though there’s a few things he had to teach himself due to the two of you experimenting. (he always does a great job)

F- Favorite position (his favorite pose)

He enjoys standing up because, as previously stated, he enjoys holding your body while fucking himself into you. and you enjoy it also, because you can feel how much deeper he is in that position.

G - Goofy (is he serious? humorous? etc..)

Before sex, he'd probably make a joke about how amazing he'll fuck you and how you'll struggle to walk afterward. The only talking there would be is degrading with a side of praise.

H- Hair (how well groomed is it?)

Hair is usually located near the pelvis area\base of the cock (aka, happy trail) as well as a small trail that leads down. He'd prefer to keep it that way because it doesn't appear to be overly busy or crazy lookin’. Unless you specifically request that he change it.

I - Intimacy (how romantic is he?)

Depending on the day, but most often on important occasions such as your birthday or after you've shared a tender moment together and he was to show how much he adores you.

J- Jack off (masturbation)

Not really, unless you’re gone for a long time which is rare.

K - Kink (one or more of his kinks/fetishes)

(these only apply if you’re into them of course :))

Knife Play - His job involves weapons including sharp objects such as knives. Running a knife or blade down your body is hot to him..

Gun play - With this one, he likes to show off his possessive side by threatening you by holding it to your head or other places, or fucking you with it in your cunt.

Somnophilia (some days)- you look good all the time but when he watches as you’re peacefully sleeping, he gets hard over how good you look

Sadism- Toji’s had a rough past, he loves taking on that pain out on you in the bedroom, and to humiliate you on top of that.

Anal sex- why not stretch your asshole the way he does your cunt? He loves hearing you scream of pain and pleasure after he puts it in there.

Dacryphilia- Toji’s huge, sometimes it’s hard for you take the inches he was blessed with which causes tears to run down your cheeks. He loves to watch those tears.

Choking- We’ve obviously learned that Toji’s rough in the bedroom, so he’d casually choke you with his large hand before and during he fucks you, along with wrapping his strong arm around his neck as he fucks you.

Begging- He needs to hear you beg for his cock before using it.

Discipline- DO NOT ACT UP! This man would punish you as if it’s nothing, you’re cervix would be screaming and crying for help.

Degradation- “C’mon you damn slut.” “Shut the fuck up and take it already.” “Fuck, stop fucking whining, whore.” and plenty of more :D

Praise- Mostly after sex because you took him so well, “You did so well taking my cock.” “i know it was hard alright? but you did great.”

Face slapping- Another part of disciplining you, is slapping you as he rams his cock into you at a harsh speed.

Face sitting- Sit. On. His. Face. you won’t regret it, and he’d could do it for however long.

Edging- On a punishment day, if you declare that you’re close he’d take his cock right out of you, leaving you to cry over and over again.

L- Location (favorite places)

Public restaurants- whether it’s fingering you under the table when you two are meeting with people, or when he takes you into the bathroom and lifts you dress as he fucks you from behind.

kitchen counter, the floor of anywhere in the house, the couch, the stairs, he’s down for anything.

M - Motivation (what turns him on)

Almost anything you do turns him on, but specifically if you’re body (like breast, or ass) Is exposed to him.

N - No (what he wouldn't do)

Unless it’s with another woman, no threesomes. He can’t even think of another man fucking you other than him.

O - Oral (prefers to give or receive?)

he prefers to receive, though again, you could sit on his face for hours.

P- Pace (is he fast and rough? slow and

sensual?)

rough and fast, for special days, slow and sensual. (both feel great to you regardless)

Q - Quickie (does he like fast sex)

Yes, If he’s on lunch break he’d hurry and go home just to fuck you quickly before going back.

R - Risk (does he like experiments/risks)

Yes! Hell, one of his sexual fantasies is to make the whole neighborhood watch you guys.

S- Stamina (for how many rounds it is enough)

Depending on the day, about 4 or 5. More or less depending on how you two feel.

T- Toys (does he have toys? does he use them?)

No, he feels as though that’s what he’s there for.

U - Unfair (does he like to tease)

Nah, he likes to hop right into it.

V- Volume (how loud it is, what sounds it

makes, etc.)

He usually grunts by how tight you squeeze him as he pounds into you, he’d also mumble a few “Fucks” and “Shits” along degrading you, but wouldn’t be overly loud. One of the things that are loud though, is the skin slapping when he’s going feral in literally any position.

W - Wild card (random headcannon)

He once made his friend listen when he called in the middle of having sex, which made him not talk to Toji for a few days. (even though his friend still stayed and listened)

X- X-ray (let's see what happens under the

clothes)

7.5 inches, girthy with a bit of curve. also, veins running along the sides of it.

Y - Yearning (his sexual attraction)

24/7, I mean, of course you guys have a healthy relationship and still talk lol. But sex still plays a huge part of it.

Z- Zzz (how quickly he then falls asleep)

He usually pulls you onto his chest and makes sure you fall asleep before him to make sure everything is fine on your behalf. after you’re in a deep sleep, he quickly goes into one also.

[joaquinwhorres]

gazes (joaquín torres x reader)

SUMMARY ››››› It's become increasingly apparent to Sam and Bucky that you and Joaquin cannot take your eyes off each other. Unfortunately for them, you two have decided to be Professionals and that means keeping your eyes, hands, and lips to yourselves. No matter how difficult it is.

WORD COUNT ››››› 3,716

WARNINGS ››››› sexy times implied

A/N ››››› Ok so these headcanons y'all have been sending me are incredible. I read these two back to back and I just had to write something connecting them.

The kid had no tact.

Sam wasn't exactly sure why he expected more from the guy who'd led into his theory that Steve was on the moon by referencing vague internet rumors, but even despite that, he'd assumed Joaquin possessed some sense of subtlety.

Instead he was over at the leg press trying and failing not to stare at Y/N as she bent over at the middle to help Bucky push deeper into the stretch.

"You know she could hit you with a harassment claim for staring at her like that."

Joaquin jumped, the weights dropping suddenly with a loud clang. Across the gym, Bucky laughed as Y/N whipped around to face the two men. "Everything ok?" Her voice sounded genuinely concerned, and Sam couldn't help but smirk as Joaquin turned towards her, giving a little wave.

"Foot slipped," he answered, and she nodded, turning back to Bucky quickly.

"Foot slipped," Sam mocked.

"Dude, you scared the shit out of me."

"If you paid half the amount of attention you give to Y/N to your surroundings, you'd have known I'd been standing here for three minutes."

Joaquin gave a defensive scoff. "I wasn't staring at her--I was just--" he stopped, searching for an excuse, and Sam raised his eyebrows.

When it was clear Joaquin couldn't find a convincing enough lie to end the sentence, Sam shook his head. "You know, if you talk to her, she might actually let you take her out."

"I talk to her," Joaquin protested.

Sam shook his head, uncrossing his arms. "No, I mean talk to her. Chat her up. You've gotta have some game, right?"

"I've got game..." His sentence trailed off as he turned to look in her direction, finding her standing over Bucky's feet with her hands on her hips. "But like, we're co-workers, you know? I don't want to make things awkward around the gym or the compound or anything."

"Joaquin," Sam said, laying a hand on his shoulder. "You're already making things awkward."

"He's staring at your ass again."

"And you're trying to get out of stretching again," you quipped, moving Bucky's leg closer to his chest. The super soldier tilted his head as if to acknowledge the legitimacy of your accusation.

"Doesn't change the fact that I think you're about to give him a heart attack."

"I highly doubt he's worried in the slightest about my ass. He's probably zoned out."

"He's definitely focused in...on--"

"On my ass," you finished, shaking your head. You might have given Bucky's claim a little more credence if it weren't for the fact that Joaquin Torres had been anything but the consummate professional towards you. He was friendly and upbeat and welcoming, and one of the few genuinely good guys you'd ever had the pleasure of working with.

You'd never caught him staring once, and it's not like the boy was exactly known for subtlety. Last time Bucky had asked him to cover for him so you couldn't come down and teach him the right way to train his body, he'd told you that Bucky had left the compound to get you a thank you gift for all of your hard work. All while staring at the gym door.

The heavy sound of weights falling against each other echoed throughout the gym, and you spun around to face the sound. Sam hovered over Joaquin's shoulder, the latter no longer working the leg press but instead looking as if he'd just received the scare of his life.

Bucky broke into laughter, and you smacked at his leg.

"Everything ok?" you called out, and Joaquin smiled, giving a sheepish little wave at you. "Foot slipped."

"It's a good thing he wasn't at the bench press. You might have killed him."

Your head snapped back to Bucky who was giving you a shit eating grin.

"You're an asshole."

"I'm right."

"Do you think if I ask nicely Wakanda will take you back?"

"So you know I'm right."

You chanced a glance back at Joaquin who was still talking to Sam before turning back around and placing your hands on your hips. "I'm calling Ayo."

You were running early.

Not to any event in particular, but just for the general course of your day. It was rare for you to wake up to your first alarm so completely refreshed, and with a fully awake brain, you found it much easier to navigate the morning. You were able to get dressed without crawling back in bed for a few more minutes, and didn't have to battle with sleepy indecision when choosing what you wanted to eat for breakfast.

One thing after another just continued to roll your way, leading you to the gym much earlier than usual.

And that's where the luck stopped.

Or maybe it didn't stop. But it definitely took a turn. Because while you fully expected someone else to be in the gym already, you hadn't expected just one person to be in the gym. And even if you had, you wouldn't have guessed that that one person would be Joaquin. And if, for some reason, you'd had the foresight to sense that, you definitely never would have pictured him to be running on the treadmill shirtless.

You stopped in your tracks, eyes falling to the bouncing dog tags on his chest and then lower to the well defined abs you'd somehow never seen before.

It felt like you'd seen just about every man in this compound shirtless. At some point, they all seemed to strip in the gym or during one of your group training classes you ran for those who weren't field agents. Bucky was shirtless half the time you worked together. It was so normal, you hardly even blinked an eye anymore. Seeing Sam without a shirt was more rare and quite the sight, but it'd never caught your breath quite like seeing Joaquin. Joaquin, who had never so much as worn a tank top in the gym, Joaquin.

And now here he was, chest bare and heaving, feet pounding rhythmically against the treadmill, hair still messy from his pillow and sweat. Your brain couldn't seem to function correctly, offering you images of the sight before you, only closer. Much closer. Hovering inches over your stretched out body as the headboard behind you rammed into the wall with the force of each thrust--

"Hey," Joaquin greeted, noticing you standing off to the side. You blinked, heat rushing to your face as he turned the treadmill down to a more leisurely pace. "Something wrong with my form?"

It was tempting to lie and offer to "help him fix it." Or to be completely honest and tell him you'd never seen a human form as perfect as his.

But neither of those responses were professional or even appropriate, and you needed this job.

You swallowed, shaking your head. "No, I was just wondering why you were wearing those," you said, gesturing to his dog tags, and allowing your eyes to fall to his chest once more. You followed a bead of sweat as it rolled down his body, heading to the waistband of his shorts. Joaquin reached to touch his tags, causing them to jingle together once more and pull your attention up to him.

"It's hard to let them go," he smiled, ruefully, hitting the button so the belt slowed even more. "I'd say it's a habit, putting them on, but at this point they're just like a part of me."

You nodded, wishing you'd taken this conversation anywhere but to the idea of dog tags and what they stood for. It wasn't so much a mood killer but a guilt inducer because instead of you feeling embarrassed and somber, all you wanted to do was grab them and pull him closer to you.

He must have read the conflict on your face because he gave a crooked smile. "Yeah, sorry, it's kinda morbid."

"No," you shook your head, clearing it of the daydream induced fog. "I probably shouldn't have asked."

"No, nah, it's cool," his smile grew into grin, as the belt came to a stop. He leaned his forearms against the console, staring at you as if waiting for you to continue the conversation. Which you were not equipped to do with a smiling and shirtless and sweaty Joaquin Torres right before you.

"Well, thanks for being cool about it," you said with a nod.

My God, something was wrong with you. They were just abs. And sure, maybe the abs belonged to the man who not only found the time to moonlight as a superhero but star in your increasingly dirty dreams of late, but it was just a body party that you'd seen a million times.

But never on Joaquin.

You blamed everything your brain was doing to you on Bucky and all of his stupid comments about Joaquin's supposed fixation on your ass. You wondered what he would say if he could see you now. "And I thought I was half machine. I could practically see your brain short circuiting." or "If that's what you're like when you see him half-naked, how are you ever going to--"

"Yeah, of course," Joaquin said, still smiling, his eyes lifting up over your shoulder as the other door to the gym opened and Sam came in. "Hey," he greeted with a jerk of his chin.

"Hey," Sam said, drawing closer, his eyes on you. You forced a smile on to your own face, and lifted a hand, not trusting anything that was coming out of your mouth.

"You're here early," the other man said, stepping onto the treadmill next to Joaquin's, and putting his water bottle down next to the machine.

Both of them were looking at you now, and it's not like you could handle staying in this gym any longer. "I came down looking for my water bottle. I think I left it here yesterday."

Sam raised his eyebrows glancing around the gym, and Joaquin stepped down off of the machine. "Do you want help looking for it?" he asked, and your whole body seemed to tense up at the idea, your brain transporting you to a future scenario where the two of you wandered around the room, Joaquin next to you or behind you, so close you could feel the heat radiating off of him, all the while searching for a water bottle that was sitting on your dresser.

"No." Your voice came out too high, but you tried to play it off, shaking your head. "I've already interrupted your workout enough. It's either by the weights or not in here."

"Alright," he nodded. "If you need any help looking around the compound though, let me know."

"Thanks," you said. And then you gave another stupid wave and beelined it for the weight racks because you had to get out of here.

You made a show of looking next to each section of weights, even bending over to check underneath of them as if it could have been knocked under somewhere. After you felt an appropriate amount of time had passed to be convincing, you straightened up, empty handed. You turned back to Joaquin and Sam, both watching you rather than continuing their workouts as you might have hoped.

"Not here," you called back with a shrug and then left the gym and headed straight up to your shower.

He was nothing if not predictable.

The minute Y/N bent over to check behind the weight rack, his eyes were glued to her. Or perhaps more accurately, the bright teal spandex shorts she wore. As she pulled herself back up from searching for her water bottle and turned to them, Joaquin quickly looked to Sam as if the two had been talking the whole time and then "casually" returned to her.

"Not here!" she said, shrugging and then walking out of the gym, her footsteps quick and purposeful as she left through the door Sam had just entered by.

"So, what'd I interrupt?"

Joaquin looked up at Sam as if remembering he was there. "What?"

"You know, when the two of you were sitting by this machine making eyes at each other? Did you actually say anything to her or….?"

Joaquin shook his head. "No, she just came in and, uh, we chatted for a second, and then…" he trailed off, as if not fully remembering any of the past ten, twenty, however many minutes.

"You just chatted," Sam repeated, the disbelief on his face edging into his voice.

"Yeah," Joaquin nodded.

"Anywhere in this chat you finally ask her out?"

"Nah, it didn't feel right."

"It didn't--she was practically taking off the other half of your clothes with her eyes," Sam sputtered, gesturing to Joaquin's shorts.

The kid laughed and shook his head as if Sam didn't know what he was talking about. Joaquin moved to exit the gym as well. "I'll see you later, man," he said, leaving a very exasperated Sam behind.

Bucky Barnes was a motherfucking liar.

"Let's grab a drink on Friday," he said.

"Consider it me making it up to you for being such a pain in your ass," he said.

"I'll buy," he said.

Mothefucker.

This wasn't just you and your favorite co-worker getting a drink. This was a goddamn set up. Because one hour and three mojitos into the night, Sam and Joaquin walked in the front door.

"I fucking hate you," you said, glaring up at his stupid smug face.

"Well, what a surprise, he grinned, as you shook a finger up at him.

"I told you in confidence I'm a flirty drunk."

He snorted, giving you a look out the side of his eyes. "You told me you were a flirty drunk after you sent me several highly inappropriate drunk text messages about what you wanted to do to a certain Lieutenant, who," the self-satisfied smile was back on Bucky's face. "Is making his way over to us right now."

"When I get home, I swear to God, I'm buying you a ticket to Wakanda."

Bucky quirked an eyebrow. "You're not going to do it now?"

"I didn't bring my credit card because you said you were paying," you huffed.

Before Bucky could respond, Sam and Joaquin were next to the two of you, greeting Bucky with hand slaps and one armed hugs. Sam came around and wrapped an arm around you first before sliding into the seat next to Bucky, and Joaquin came forward, giving you a quick hug.

Which was a first.

More than the feeling of his back underneath your palm, or the way he seemed to emanate warmth, you were done in by how absolutely incredible he smelled. But before you could fully identify whether it was his shampoo, a cologne, or just him, he pulled away and took the only other available seat near the group--the one next to you.

"I see you started without us," Sam said, raising his eyebrows at the assortment of glasses that sat before you. Most of them were Bucky's as he downed beers faster than should have been humanly possible.

"Hard drinker, huh Y/N," Joaquin teased, shooting you a smile.

"Pfft," you dismissed. "Only three are mine."

"Three?" Sam asked, leaning forward to better look at you. "How long have you been here?"

"An hour," you said, completely unnecessarily leaning forward too.

Bucky shrugged. "I got the time wrong."

"Guess we better catch up then," Joaquin said, and you sank back into your chair, narrowing your eyes at him in challenge.

"If you can."

They did.

You were outpaced fairly quickly against the two soldiers and one super soldier. The rum-induced fuzziness around the edges of your brain was compounded by having Joaquin so close to you. At some point he'd pulled his chair a bit closer to yours so that he could better hear the conversation, and you don't remember when it happened, but his arm had also slid around the back of your chair. To your relief neither Bucky nor Sam seemed to acknowledge this. In fact, Bucky was positively quiet and normal all things considered. Everything was going better than you could have expected.

Until the music kicked up.

Sam was the first to be dragged onto the dance floor. He was Captain America. Of course he'd been targeted by the stunning girl in the red dress who'd only had to come up and ask "Does Captain America dance?" to succeed in pulling him off to the dance floor.

Bucky was next. Although he wasn't tugged onto the dance floor by his hand the way Sam was. It was the sight of the person in the tight black number that did him in, luring him away to the dance as if drawn by a magnet.

And then it was you and Joaquin, sitting at the bar. Alone. Together.

You looked up from your drink, pushing the straw down into the ice to stir up the clinking sounds, and he took a swig of his beer before putting the bottle back down on the bar.

"Alright, let's dance," he said, nodding with his head towards the crowd, and you let out a disbelieving snort.

"I don't know how to dance. I mean, I can dance," you attempted to clarify, although you had a feeling words were failing you at the moment. "But that's real dancing, and I can't do that."

"I guess you're lucky you have a really good teacher asking you to dance then," Joaquin grinned, holding out a hand. You looked down at his open palm, hesitating only for a second before you slid your hand into his and jumped down from your chair.

He led you out through the moving bodies expertly, dodging couples who were clearly more into the dancing than each other and couples where the complete opposite was true. The small bit of space he found you was closer to the center of the dance floor than you'd usually feel comfortable with, but when he turned towards you with that look on his face, any of your residual anxiety had vanished.

"Ok, come close," he said, and you took a small step closer to him, causing him to laugh. "Closer." He gestured, and you moved forward some more, Joaquin's hands finding their way to your hips and pulling you even closer. His hands rose, one finding its way to your mid-back, pushing your elbow up to rest on his, as the other took your hand and placed it over shoulder.

"This ok?" he asked, eyebrows raised, and you nodded, trying to keep your attention on him, his instructions and his words, and not the way that you could feel just about every part of him from the way he was angled against you. His right side was flush against your left, and his knee pushed between yours.

"Just follow me," he said, his head bent close to yours. Before you could even respond, he started to move, pulling you along with him through the dance. It was smooth and rolling and you'd never seen a guy able to roll his hips like Joaquin. He seemed to know exactly how to guide you, moving his body to push and pull yours along whenever you hesitated or felt lost, coaxing waves and movements out of you that you didn't know you could do. Each success was met with a small word of praise and a brilliant smile, as his hands shifted to hold you closer, and you wrapped your own hand around his neck to better feel and predict his movements.

It felt as if a fog had rolled in over the dancefloor, obstructing all else from view so it was just you and Joaquin, eyes locked to each other as you moved together, occupying the same space.

The song faded into the next one, and Joaquin stopped. You went to move backwards, to give him space and have him move on as many other of the more skilled dancing couples seemed to do, switching partners amongst each other. But he kept you close to him, hand sliding down to your waist.

"Now you can really dance," he teased, his eyes shining as they stared into yours.

"Only with you." It was supposed to be a self-deprecating joke, but it came out too quiet and earnest. Joaquin licked his lips, and your eyes followed the gesture, flickering between his mouth and his eyes.

You don't remember making the decision. You only remember, moving even further into his arms, and pushing yourself up to reach his lips with your own. He bent down to meet you, pulling you even closer and pressing his hard body into yours. His lips moved as slowly and sensually as his hips had, drawing you in and guiding you through a careful rhythm that promised much, much more.

Sam sat with Bucky at the bar. Joaquin and Y/N had disappeared somewhere amongst the dance floor, hidden amongst the crowd.

"You think it worked?" Bucky asked, raising an eyebrow at Sam.

"If it didn't we're screwed," Sam shook his head, taking a swig from his drink.

As if on cue, the two emerged from the swaying bodies, hand in hand, sweaty and much happier than they had been when Sam had left them at the bar.

"We're gonna head back to the compound," Joaquin said with practiced casualness.

"Yeah?" Bucky asked, and Sam swore there was mischief literally glinting in his eyes.

"Yeah," Joaquin nodded too fast and too many times. "Yeah, Y/N forgot about something there…"

"What'd you forget?" Bucky asked, turning to Y/N with a wolfish smile.

"Nothing. We're going to have sex," Y/N said, flatly, causing Sam to nearly spit out his drink. "And if you say one more word, I know a pilot who will fly you to Wakanda himself. No ticket needed."

Bucky mimicked zippering his lips into a smug look, and she rolled her eyes before tugging Joaquin out of the bar by his hand. And he followed. Eyes glued to her ass.

[rwprincess]

Two Worlds Collided

Masterlist

A/N: Oh, an anachronistic songfic from RWPrincess? But this time it’s about John Bender! :D Inspired by Never Tear Us Apart (originally by INXS in 1987, but I particularly like this Paloma Faith version)

Word Count: 2K

Synopsis: Bender met reader at the Breakfast Club and the two seemed like opposites, but they shared a common hidden sadness. Over the years, feelings and relationships change.

CW: Swearing, sexuality, Bender being a general asshole

Bender had met her the same way everyone in the Breakfast Club had, on the Saturday detention on March 24th. He had seen her in the hallways prior to that as he was always observant. He had seen everyone in the Breakfast Club before that day; but he hadn’t given her much thought. Now, he was paying attention to little else. He had no idea why he was drawn to her; they were both so different and he could never picture himself with a goody-two-shoes like that. But the way she had reacted to his more vulnerable, real moments, how she tried to make a connection with him...that stuck with him. He knew he should have learned from his disastrous blow-up with Claire that two people who were so different just wouldn’t work out. He repeated this to himself over and over, like a mantra, but it never changed how he actually felt.

After the breakup, the Breakfast Club had a split between those who chose Bender and those who chose Claire. Of course, Andrew sided with Claire unconditionally, but John considered that as no big loss. Allison tried to play the middle ground and Johnson had sided more with him, but he was surprised at the wholehearted backing he received from Y/N. He had assumed that she would either try to be neutral like Allison, or pick Claire. She had no reason to side with him, he had always come off as an aloof ass. But she had, and he was eternally grateful for that. He had originally decided to get together with Claire because the notion had a hot, forbidden quality to it. They spent time insulting each other and making out to make up for it. It was as passionate as it was destructive, so of course it couldn’t last. However, when he was alone and reflected to himself, he had been attracted to Y/N all along. She was hot, yes, but he had plenty of good-looking girls to choose from. He was more drawn to that kind, quiet inside she had displayed that day. How she had gone out of her way numerous times to reach out to him and had been genuinely nice to him. Most of the time, someone only did that to gain something for themselves. Whether it was to use him or to make themselves feel better, it depended on the person, but with Y/N that never felt like it was the case.

Don't ask me

What you know is true

Don't have to tell you

I love your precious heart

He thought back to the first time he saw her on that Saturday, walking into the library and looking so out of place. He was already adjusting into his spot when she entered and she froze in front of all the tables like a deer-in-the-headlights, as if she had just materialized there and had no clue what she was doing. He remembered feeling both attracted to that doe-eyed look and scoffing internally at it. While she wasn’t part of the cliques that Andrew and Claire were, she had a very sheltered look to her and he was envious of that type of innocence. Her ignorance must have been bliss compared to the hell he lived each day at school and at home. She was just as out of place as the preppies or ultra-dweeb Johnson, but instead of being offended by that notion, she looked terrified. She meekly put her items on the front-row desk opposite to him and he thought about all the fun he could poke at everyone here, including her. However, the first blow did not land well. Bender loved making people uncomfortable, but he didn’t necessarily want to make them cry. He’d made some off-handed remark towards her. He had been circling her and eyeing her, employing the discomfort he liked inflicting, trying to ‘guess’ why she was in detention. “I bet you were caught fooling around with a teacher, right? Always the quiet ones that you’d least suspect…”

John Bender rarely regretted his words or actions. He knew he was an asshole and let unfiltered thoughts through so that he could be the center of attention. In doing so, he had to stand by all the shit he said, even when he crossed a line. This was one of the scattered occasions in which he felt remorse, though. She didn’t reply, not verbally, anyway, but she looked scared shitless and was rooted to the spot. Tears instantly sprang up in her eyes and she looked as if she were about to hurl right on his combat boots. He backed off after that. He didn’t apologize, because that’s not something John Bender could have on his reputation, but he didn’t target her. There was something so sincere about her reaction and he saw himself reflected in that expression. Not the tough-as-nails persona he projected, but his secret self who had seen too much too early in life and could barely stand another blow. He didn’t know what her deal was, but there was a heavy sadness behind those eyes that was far too real for him to tamper with.

When he had shown the group his souvenir for spilling paint in his garage, courtesy of his father, she must have seen that reflection back. No one in that group actually knew him. They all thought he was a lying sack of shit; what could he say? His reputation preceded him. But he caught her gaze as he backed away from the group, and the sadness in her recognized the sadness in him. He felt an odd sort of click, a mutual understanding, but he turned away from them all and trashed the library.

I, I was standing

You were there

Two worlds collided

And they could never tear us apart

That was months ago, and out of everyone he met that day, she was the one who truly stuck by him. He’d surprisingly connected with Johnson, sure. Everybody likes to get high and Bender was the supplier. And he and Allison had similar interests, but she wouldn’t give up Andrew and with that territory came Claire...there was just no going back to that. But Bender still had Y/N, and he could never understand it. The first time he had brought her into his friend circle, he tried to justify it as sticking to his word and ‘having the balls to stand up to his friends’ like he had told Claire to do. He also reasoned that it was some sort of social experiment. As much as he liked to portray himself as someone who couldn’t care less, Bender was entirely social. He craved attention and admiration for others and could read just about anyone like a book. Maybe that’s why he didn’t mess with Y/N after that first comment landed so wrongly. He felt like he knew exactly what she was thinking and feeling and decided to back off. However, it wasn’t just some ‘watch and see how she interacts’ set up; Bender genuinely wanted her there. He wanted to integrate her into his life.

She was still extremely quiet, mostly a speak-when-you’re-spoken-to type, but he started to peel back layers in her personality. He found that, despite that lurking sadness, there was an unending pool of optimism. She tried to see the best in situations and in people. She meshed incredibly well with his friends because she listened instead of judged. She would nod along like she knew exactly what they were talking about and how they felt. He started to develop an attachment to her. While he was still dating Claire, he told himself it was akin to having a pet. Y/N was like a goldfish that he could tell his problems to and know the secret would be kept. But after Claire, he realized that wasn’t the case...particularly when he sought Y/N’s comfort above all else. He divulged the entire last big fight he and Claire had to her, and she was just so...reassuring. After that day, he began to see her in a different light. He argued with himself over what his feelings and intentions actually were, but he couldn’t keep them at bay for long. She was good for Bender. He had never felt lighter.

Of course, Bender had not known stability in his life ever, and the risk of falling for Y/N and having it mean something and being accountable to one person overwhelmed him. He did what he knew best: he fought it and ran away from it. At first, he tried to avoid her, just distance himself. But he’d gravitate back; being without her was too heavy to bear. He wanted to try to actively push her away, to fuck up this relationship with his words, just like he did with everything else. But when he opened his mouth to try to lie, to say he didn’t need her or want her around or whatever, he would look into her eyes and it became impossible. He remembered the way he had shaken her to her core the first day they met, and he couldn’t allow himself to bring that sadness up again in her.

We could live for a thousand years

But if I hurt you

I'd make wine from your tears

Eventually, he gave in. While he was able to control his words to not say anything harmful, he wasn’t able to contain them from slipping up and telling her, “Dammit, I love you!” It wasn’t in a context that could be taken as joking or being said flippantly; she knew immediately what he meant and that he meant those words, wholly.

She took his face in her hands and told him, “I love you, too.” There was no turning back, and as the years passed, they fell deeply in love. He'd dug up her secrets and fears, but she seemed to trust him enough to not use them against her in any way. They both dreaded the prospect of never getting out of Shermer and falling into the same circular trap their parents had. However, he reassured her that the moment they had the opportunity, they would bust out of there. He lucked out that Claire had never asked for her diamond earring back. It was probably one of many and she had forgotten she had even given it to him as a token. He decided to pawn it to top-off the savings he and Y/N had accrued. "You're too good for me, you're sure as hell too good for this place,'' he told her. The trade-in was enough to get them out of town and start anew, but only one of them could really ‘move up’ for now. While they argued back and forth about who should get to pursue which dream, Bender rationalized to her, “I was barely cut out for high school. I can’t really do college. And that’s okay. You’re the brains in this relationship, I’m the beauty.” He winked at her and with her laughter as response, that sealed the deal of who was going to school.

I told you

That we could fly

'Cause we all have wings

But some of us don't know why

She searched the crowd, holding her diploma. Bender had supported her both financially and emotionally these last four years and now they had the degree to prove it. She felt pride in being able to take over from him and let him follow a new path. He had always been good with his hands, but despite his protests, he was good with his mind too. He was a sharp-thinker and she knew that he could make a career that he loved out of that. She’d be there to push and brace him as he had done for her. Finally, she spotted him. When their eyes connected, she felt that same crackle that she had the first day they had met, all those years ago. Before the friendship and the love, she knew there was a spark there, that they were two of a kind, even though they were so different.

I, I was standing

You were there

Two worlds collided

And they could never tear us apart

[selinakidreams]

here’s a lil something for baku (and you) to enjoy on his birthday <3 all apart of the bakugo birthday bash hosted by the lovely @jodrawssmut @phasmwrites @katsukikitten @bakugotrashpanda @lady-bakuhoe @ramen-rambles ! !! thank you guys so much for letting me be apart of this <3

pairing: (established relationship) QUIRKLESS AU kiribaku x fem! reader

word count: 3k+

warnings: alcohol consumption but sober sex, oral (f receiving), mentions of throat fucking, mentions of spit roasting, lots of mentions of spit <3 (and exactly one spit into a mouth), very light degradation, praise

a/n: this is my first time writing with three characters kdjdkdk it’s way out of my comfort zone and I only had 6 days to write it,, but I did it!! trust me I wanted to write more but I actually wanted to make it to baku’s birthday so !! don’t be mad at the endiiiiiiinnnngggg <3

The jazz wafted throughout the empty bar; your silk dress falling from the edge of your seat. It has been a slow night for the bar. You leaned your head into your hand, elbow keeping you sturdy as you swirled the drink around it’s glass cup. 

Your friend's party became a bit too feral for your taste, but you kept your word and stayed as long as you could for the sole purpose of seeing her smile, but then they showed up and you saw yourself out. 

The dim lighting made your eyes droopy with no action to keep your brain going, so you take another swig of your drink before swiveling in your chair to face the other side of the bar. 

Floor to ceiling windows greeted you, giving you the perfect overlook to the twinkling city lights below. It was incredible how your friend could afford a room in this hotel for her party. 

You noticed a movement in the corner of your eye; someone had entered the bar. 

You turn back to face all the expensive drinks displayed on the shelf, the perfect excuse to catch a quick glimpse at him. The contrast of his hair against everything else in the room almost made your eyes pop out of their sockets. 

Platinum blonde hair tufted out like an explosion, a satin red shirt that danced with the warm light of the room, black slacks and from what you could tell, some expensive ass shoes. Too dressy just to be here for some drinks.

Wanting to see more but not willing to fully stare at the man, you signed and waited until it seemed like he got settled on the bar stool before saying, “Is it your party that’s on this floor? It seems like quite the... experience.” 

Your voice came out smooth and velvety to bakugo’s ears, not that he would ever admit it. He scoffed before taking a second to look at the stranger who was daring to talk to him. His first thought settled in his mind and accepted it, almost prompting for silence- waiting to see if you would push to talk to him again.

From what you could tell, he was scanning you up and down. He opened his mouth to say something; his pink plush lips looking extremely inviting as they began to mouth something.

No sound came out for the next few seconds, showing he decided to keep his thoughts to himself. He closed his mouth and took out a phone from his pocket, the screen illuminated his face as he began typing something out. 

With this newfound light, his features became even more alluring- which couldn't be said for most people. Perfect porcelain skin, his profile pointed and devilishly handsome.

He’s well aware that he still held your attention, so when he slid his phone back in his pocket, he responded to your previous question, “yea, that’s the one. I’d rather stick it out instead of hearing them complain about me not going to my own party  for the rest of the week.”

By the end of his sentence, he had a glass of something amber in his hand that seemed to look a lot like whiskey. He didn’t spare you another glance but you could tell he expected to hear a response.

You hummed, slightly nodding your head, “The party I had to go to is upstairs and it’s… a lot. They're all just talking about expensive this and designer that and I couldn't listen to another word so I had to get out of there…” you trailed off at his silence. Noting that the conversation wasn’t going anywhere, you introduced yourself in hopes to continue interacting with him. You knew his type, and you knew in some way, he was going to surprise you. 

“Bakugo Katsuki.” He said in turn.

You slowly nodded before posing another question.

“So Bakugo, not really a party goer?” You attempt to ask, only to get a huff in return.

“not one for small talk either, i see?” You add at the end.

Another few quiet moments go by before he responds

“If I was a party goer, I’d be at my own party wouldn’t I?” He quipped back and your eyebrows shot up as you raised your hands in defense. 

“Well hey, I dunno ! For all I know you could have had a really rough night and this specific bar could be your saving grace. Could possibly use this night to drown your sorrows away behind a whole bottle of what… whiskey?” You say, ushering to his drink before turning to face your own, knowing he probably didn’t like being pegged as such.

“but you wouldn’t do that. You’re a strong man who knows what to do when things get bad, huh?” you continue, sprinkling praise to his dignity. He seemed like the type to prioritize that.

He didn’t do or say much in terms of a response but a small smile grew on your lips seeing how his body suddenly released a bit of the physical tension that was winding up.

You moved a few seats closer to him. If he didn’t like it, he hadn’t said anything. 

“So-'' Interrupted before you could continue the line of questions, Bakugo surprised you by asking, “you think you’re better than your friends? Leaving them and comin’ here to drink alone?” his voice coming out gruff and low.

“No, not one bit. I was the one who planned the whole thing for my friend, it’s just unfortunate that she had to invite all those people who aren’t all that nice to her. I can’t stand them. I’ve told them off more than I can count, but they just brush me off. A group of bullies is one thing, but a group of people who pretends to be friends with you then talks behind your back is another.`` 

Bakugo was quiet, not by astonishment or anger; he seemed to be expressionless as he piped up, “fake people are some of the uglies nobodies out there.”

You turn to look at him before sipping your drink and moving a seat closer. This time Bakugo glanced your way but continued to stay silent. 

“You ever beat someone up?” you ask, resting your chin on your palm, tilting your head towards him.

Your second surprise that night, he chuckled. It was soft, the complete opposite to the demeanor he'd been holding.

“Why? You want me to go in there and beat a few of those assholes up?” his eyes were relaxed by this point, no longer sharp and heavily guarded.

“Only because they don't believe I'm intimidating enough.”

“Maybe because you're not.”

You fake gasped, bringing your other hand up to your heart. “Excuse me sir but I'll have you know that I can be quite the fighter.”

“We’ll see about that.”

You hadn’t realized you got so close to Bakugo until you heard the footsteps nearing you both.  When a handsome voice called out bakugo’s name, you slightly jumped. Putting as much space between the two of you as possible, you looked to the source of the voice. 

Handsome would be an understatement. 

With red bangs that framed his sharp toothy smile perfectly and the rest of his hair tied back in a messy ponytail, this man looked a bit taller than Bakugo with a much warmer aura... but radiated the same type of... manliness. 

“Bakugo, I just got your text- Mina has been dragging me everywhere to make sure your party’s going well. Is this her?” the handsome man asked, a slight indistinguishable gleam flashes in his eye when he looks over to you.

“Yeah, ‘nd i wanna leave now.” he almost pouted before looking over to you. 

“You comin’?” 

Your gaze snapped between the two men, only slightly putting two and two together. 

Red hair spoke up, “He probably didn't explain it well but I'm his boyfriend, Kirishima Eijiro!” he held out his hand cheerfully, listening to your introduction. 

“Not to sound too forward or to make you uncomfortable... but do you wanna come home with us? He texted me earlier saying that there was this hottie in a silk dress and… well…” he trailed off licking his bottom lip as his wandering gaze slowly shifted hungrier, “he wasn't kidding.”

There was a lot happening at once but all that you were thinking was that these two hot men wanted you, and the happy buzz that was coursing through your system couldnt object the offer, so with a quick nod of your head, you were handed a water bottle, guided off of the stool, and into the back of the next taxi they could hail. 

The ride was filled with wandering hands and mischievous looks. Kirishima was whispering naughty promises in Bakugo’s ear that you couldn't quite hear, while your attention focused on the big palm that was making its way to the most heated part of your body. The quick inhales that the blonde took went straight to your core, making you incredibly excited for what the night had to offer. 

As soon as the door swung open, lips were on lips and clothes were coming off. The rush to get to the bedroom was heated and messy but once you all entered the room, there was an intense shift that even you couldn't predict. 

Kirishima spoke first, “So what does my birthday boy want? Does he want to fuck or be fucked?”

With a suck at his teeth, Bakugo knew if he didn’t give an answer soon he’d be met with-

“Better hurry up handsome, or I might just choose for you…” Kirishima hummed, bright crimson eyes hopping on over to meet your gaze, “better yet…”

He was by your side in mere seconds. His huge figure towering over yours, you almost flinched when his bulky fingers grazed up your arm. 

“What if you chose for him?” He purred in your ear loud enough so Bakugo’s ruby eyes found yours. Your name rolled off the red-haired man’s tongue like sweet honey, “go ahead, what do you think he would want more?”

Your gaze flickered between them, you couldn’t tell one or the other’s preferences but if they wanted to use you, they could. 

“How about… Eijiro… you could fuck my throat and Katsuki… could fuck whatever hole he wants?” You ask, the question raising an octave out of uncertainty. 

Kirishima raises an eyebrow towards the man of the hour, slightly amused and completely aroused. 

Bakugo is already smirking,“Atta girl, knows exactly what to say.” 

Kirishima starts to kiss your neck as Bakugo stands in front of you, occupying your lips for the first time that night. 

With one arm wrapped around your waist, he seemed to have rubbed on his boyfriend's bulge before reaching for the zipper of your dress. In turn, the feeling of the Eijiro’s bulge humped your back. 

Whether it was your dress hitting the floor or Katsuki’s tongue slipping in your mouth didn't matter, a sharp gasp escaped your lips, causing Kirishima to chuckle and whisper, “get on the bed, princess.” while Bakugo pulls away from you, a string of spit keeps you connected.

With your gaze lustly hazy, you dreamily make your way to the bed, but not without a little show. Before splaying yourself out on the mattress, you stretch out- almost in the child's pose of yoga except you add a deep arch in your back for the sole purpose of showing off your pretty seamless thong. 

As you reposition yourself, you glance over to the side to find that both men are now only in restricting briefs, eyes glued to your figure, both palming themselves over their boxers. 

Eyes half massed and back flat on the bed, you begin to pout, feeling almost bare without anyone’s hands on you. 

As if on cue, they began to make their way over to you, looking oh so hungry. 

You immediately sat up and swiped your tongue over your bottom lip, pulsating at the prospect of having two seemingly thick dicks at once… but they were still in their boxers. Why?

“Ya have to ask nicely in order to get a treat, you ungrateful slut.” Bakugo growled before taking your jaw in his hand, squishing your cheeks with his fingers. 

“Better yet, beg.” he said with a coldness that heated your core and had your eyes going wide.

Whimpering when he let go, you kept your innocent doe eyes as two sets of starved eyes stared down at you.

“W-wanna get fucked, please. Wanna feel both of you everywhere…” you say as you reach both hands out to palm the silhouette of their bulges. “Please…?” 

There was a “christ” that was muttered out before you were pushed back on the bed by Bakugo, then kirishima manhandled you so that your neck was supported by the edge of the bed, your head mostly hanging off.

Even in the midst of the binding tension, Kirishima didn't hesitate to instruct Bakugo to put a pillow under your hips, the blonde eagerly following through with the demand. 

“How’dyou want Katsuki to prep you, baby? He’s skillful in every sense but he really enjoys using his mouth.” 

The bed shifted and before you could string a thought together, you looked down and lost all ability to think. The sight in front of you was downright sinful. A smirk was pulling at the left corner of his lips as he sunk closer to your clothed pussy, his red gaze now a deep wicked crimson as he watched for your reaction.

You didn't have much time to analyze before a thick hand laced through your hair and ushered your view back to the red head’s now exposed cock. You gulped. 

Not incredibly long, a moderate size but with a juicy girth, Kirishima’s cock had a thick vein trailing up his underside. 

If you could make heart eyes, you're sure that you'd be doing them by now. 

Focused on paying attention to his pretty pink weeping tip, you felt your panties being pushed to the side. As tempting as it was to look down, you kept your sights set on the task at hand. Licking and kissing his cock, mixing your saliva with his precum, you earned a guttural groan from the big man above you, encouraging you to do more, please him more- until a warm muscle was met with your sopping core, causing a high gasp of a vibration to hit Kirishima’s head. 

Your mind stopped reeling for a second- it stopped doing anything to be frank. Your hips mindlessly thrust up in attempts to get more of Bakugo’s mouth. He chuckled against you in response.  

Moans bounced off the walls the deeper you guys got with each arousing movement; slurps coming from your’s and Bakugo’s mouth were the loudest noises in the room- that was until you moved down to pay the much needed attention to Kirishima’s balls. He couldn't seem to take it when you began sucking and fondling, moaning about how full he looked. He let out an obscene whine that you couldn’t believe came from him but when Bakugo pulled his lips from around your clit, you followed the noise with a similar one.

Unlike Kirishima who had stayed still, you tried to push Bakugo’s face back down out of lack of patience. Somewhere along the lines, the dominating rolls have switched, but you couldn't really find it in yourself to trace back to when that happened.

 “You really are a fighter, huh?” he chuckled out before adding, “quit whining shitty hair, you’ll get to fuck her throat once I’m done eating.” 

And with that, he dove right back in, causing you to clench around nothing yet and arch your back to get impossibly closer. In turn, your gaze caught the big desperate pleading eyes looking down at you, nearly begging you to do something... 

You were so dizzy with pleasure that you murmured  a mindless, “I didn't forget about you Eijiro.”,  before using your hands to guide his cockhead back into your mouth to coat it in your saliva then pulling off and spreading it down the rest of his length. He bit his lip and let out a cute “mmph!”, which went straight to your abused core. Wanting to hear more, you began to pump his shaft with your messy fist. 

With everything going on, you didn’t realize how built up you were. At an astounding rate, your climax crashed over you, making you shriek against Kirishima's dick as you attempted to cage Bakugo’s head in with your thighs. What pushed you even further was the death grip Katsuki had on your thighs and the sinful sounds he was making while lapping away at your juices. 

Your hands shot from Kirishima’s cock down to grip Bakugo’s hair, freeing your mouth to pant out breathy praises and a whiney “Katsuki!”.

“Fuck,” Bakugo groaned as he came up from your pelvis once you’ve relaxed, whipping your juices from off of his chin with the back of his hand. 

“Kiri, c’mere, you gotta try this,” he said before pulling his boyfriend in for a kiss over your slumped body. Watching their lips meet and seeing Kirishima’s tongue slip into his lover’s mouth sent a dull throb to your core, even moreso when Kirishima sighed into the kiss while his cock twitched upwards, close to your face. 

When they pulled away, Bakugo gave one more little peck to Kirishima before looking down at you with a mischievous grin. You mentally gather yourself and sit up, already ready to be told what to do next.

“Open up, sweet cheeks.”

You did as you were told with your tongue out on display, unintentionally closing your eyes as a sweet little “aaah” came out on instinct. 

The spit hit your tongue dead on and you had to refrain from automatically swallowing. 

A low whisper about how good you were to Katsuki pulled him out of his daze, his eyes darting away from the new wetness on your tongue. 

“Swallow, slut.” and so you did.

“You're right Kiri, she is such a good girl…  Are you ready to get fucked stupid as your prize?” was the last thing you remember before both of them did exactly that.

[hibiscusia]

Not the usual knight

The bar was not bad, if you take in consideration that he was chosen by Riven.

It's not that Musa didn't like the brown hair guy, well yes at first she had despised him. But with time...A lot of time, she had learned that looks can be deceiving, and that in Riven's case, the shell he'd created for himself didn't define who he really was. Even if he was still a piece of shit most of the time.

“This place is great Riv !”

Sky was looking around, his hand on Bloom's hip.

“See . I told you that I knew some nice places. Come on, let's get a table.”

“We should have come earlier, given the crowd finding a place might be complicated.”

The small group of friends ended up finding a small table in the back of the bar and once their drinks had been ordered, the discussion soon turned around the contract that Musa had managed to land with a music company, the young woman was so happy since the news that even her horrible neighbor hadn't succeeded in ruining her day by reproaching her for making too much noise for almost half an hour that morning.Bloom was also swimming in joy given that she had passed her year and that she had managed to land a job in her favorite vintage shop for the summer, the redhead had only one hurry, that the year school is officially over so they can all have a crazy summer.The discussion then turned to Sky who, according to Riven, had nearly died a good twenty times from despair during the year.

“At the same time you chose to orient yourself in politics man, no one in reasonable sense chooses this sector of their own free will.

“Fuck you Riven.”

“For once I agree with him”

“Not you too Bloom!”

"I'm sorry Babe but everyone knows that entering politics is saying goodbye to all forms of social life...it's the same with studying law."

“Musa please take my side.”

"Sorry Sky, but I wouldn't even have survived a week in your place, so..."

" I hate you all."

The conversation then turned to Riven and his Masters in Biology, which was going smoothly since the young man must have been one of the best in his class. The evening progressed calmly and Musa came to the end of her drink.

“I'm going to order, anyone want something?”

“I will be ok. Sky?”

“No thank you I think I'll take a little break before the next drink.”

“A Bourbon for me.”

The brunette turned to Riven

“...“Please Musa could you bring me a Bourbon?” – “Oh but of course Riven, asked so nicely.”

The young man's smile grew even bigger.

"Please Love - light of my life, would you be so kind as to pick me up a Bourbon?"

He was teasing her, she knew, but the way his voice had dropped an octave had sent a long shiver down Musa's spine – The alcohol was surely playing tricks on her, we were talking about Riven, sure he was hot but he remained an asshole most of the time. Her only response was a sarcastic smile and she left for the bar.

“I'm going to pee. »

Riven got up and disappeared into the crowd.

“I'll bet you 10 bucks they'll come back to the table together.”

Sky looked her girlfriend in the eye

“They just went in two opposite directions. Why would they come back together.”

Bloom shrugged.

“An intuition. Do you stand the bet ?”

“...Deal.”

They shook hands and resumed their conversation.

- - - - - - - - -

Musa hadn't had many moments when she regretted being a woman, but at that very moment she was cursing nature for not giving her a dick instead of breasts.

Two minutes, it had taken two short minutes before a guy – whose smell betrayed the number of glasses he had – approached her. At first he had only stood next to her and Musa hardly noticed him, but he had to open his mouth and suddenly she remembered why she always managed to never be alone at the counter, he seemed to be in his sixties and had no scruples about flirting with someone who might have been his daughter. She had thought about texting Bloom but her phone was left at their table and since she had already ordered the two drinks she could only wait for them, praying for the bartender to hurry, but again, given the number of people that there was tonight she was surely going to have to take her troubles patiently.

Five minutes later and Musa was ready to bust the guy's head on the counter.

Not only did he not want to leave her alone despite the many refusals she had thrown at him, but he was starting to get rude and had already asked her twice if she didn't want “them to go somewhere more private”, to which our pretty brunette replied “fuck you”.Unfortunately some people seem to understand human language only when it suits them.

Finally Musa's glasses arrived and the brunette was never so happy to see drinks in her life, but as she picked up the two glasses to leave the man grabbed her wrist.

“Where are you going like this ? Stay we have fun.”

“First you let me go right away, second if I ever want to “have fun” as you say it probably won't be with you so stop pissing me off !”

Musa ripped her wrist out of the guy's grip and started to weave through the crowd to join her friends and avoid sending the glass of Bourbon into the asshole's head.

The problem with some people is that not only do they not know when to stop talking, but also when to retreat. And Musa understood it very quickly when the man's hand closed on her wrist much more violently than the first time making the brunette wince in pain.

“Who do you think you are !”

He was pissed off.

“I was nice to you so you could show some respect bitch !”

He was messing with her...No one can be that dumb...

“Let her go.”

Musa recognized the voice immediately and she turned as far as she could, her gaze immediately lost in Riven's green eyes.

“Who the fuck are you ?!”

She had felt such relief at seeing the young man that for a moment she had forgotten her wrist still in the other's grasp. She winced again in the grip and the expression that appeared on Riven's face would have scared anyone away, anyone but the asshole who was far too drunk to realize that his end was near.

“We were talking her and I so go find yourself another one and don't piss me off !”

Ok too bad for the glass of Bourbon, she was going to smash it on him, since when exactly had she become an object.

Riven grabbed the guy by the collar making him drop Musa at the same time.

“Listen to me, you dickhead. First, if your hands come near her again, I'll cut them off and good luck jerking off afterwards. Second, I think it's time you got home before you do something you're really going to regret, because I'd have absolutely no scruples about kicking the ass off a guy like you. Is that clear ?!”

The threat seemed to have an effect as the man blanched before pushing Riven away and leaving with his tail between his legs.

The brunette turned to Musa who was still holding the two glasses in her hands.

“Come let's join the others.”

The girl nodded and they headed back to their table.

« I didn't think you could be a knight in shinning armor Riven. »

« Suprise Pixie ? »

« hum... »

« I'm not that much of an asshole Muse. »

« Well you have your moments...but yeah i guess you're not. »

Musa smiled at him, a real smile, the ones that she'd always give to her friends, a smile that Riven would secretly die to receive, and something discutingly warm took place in the young man's chest.

- - - - - - -

“You own me 10 bucks babe.”

“How ??”

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

Finally I'm done !!

This is the first time I write a fanfic in English so I apologize if there are small mistakes I did the best I could.

I hope you like it anyway.

Do not hesitate to leave a comment it is always nice to have your opinions.

@gossipqueen2000  thank you for the idea this is for you !!

[epicene-humanoid]

some trans Jeff thoughts:

he realized he was trans in elementary school and just went fuck it I'll just start introducing myself as Jeffery and see if anyone decides to stop me (as we know, jeff winger can get away with almost anything)

he got top surgery the second he could afford it (around the same time he started at his law firm), and probably bribed someone to keep it a secret

"I'm jeff winger and i would rather look at myself naked than the women I sleep with" are the words of a man proud of his transition

he's really insecure about his fashion sense, which is why he mostly dresses like the douchey guys at his firm in the start of the show, he thought you can't go wrong with the sleazy lawyer look

he will never admit it but he feels super good about the dean hitting on him, because the dean is a (cis) guy, acknowledging that Jeff is more manly than him

i think he starts out stealth and comes out to everyone one by one, probably starting with abed because he knows abed won't judge him and will probably just see it as an interesting backstory.

abed just says it's cool and maybe worth a prequel exploring Jeff's transition, and jeff asks him to predict how all of the members of the group will react to him coming out.

abed's predictions:

britta will be over-the-top supportive and do a ton of research about trans history, probably put together a slideshow just to prove how progressive she is, and jeff will be a little bit weirded out, but also touched that she did all that for him, though he would never let her know that

shirley will be confused, because she doesn't know how someone she trusts and knows so well could be part of a group she was raised to hate, but ultimately realizes that there's nothing actually against the lgbtq people in the bible, and, as a cool character development arch, starts to advocate against use of the bible to justify bigotry

troy will just think it over and decide that Jeff's physique and coolness are even awesomer knowing how much work he'd had to put in to be like that, and respects Jeff's manliness even more

annie will give him a hug, say something sweet about how she'll always love him, and worry about his health, because even she read somewhere that taking testosterone makes you more likely to have a heart attack, jeff will explain that the risk is still only as high a cis guy, and she'll be the one to always remind him to take his shots

peirce will say at best say "jeff winger used to be a chick?" and at worst call him a slur, either way there's sure to be a lot of misgendering from him, and pestering to know Jeff's deadname (needless to say, Jeff just doesn't tell peirce)

the whole group goes out of their way to keep their beach trips a secret from pierce (the girls don't want him there anyways, he's too liable to be creepy) even though jeff knows that even if pierce saw his scars, all he would have to do is make up a story about some childhood accident and pierce would never question it

sorry this ended up being super long. can I hear some of your headcanons for him?

YES ALL THIS!!! yes yes i’m fully accepting this as canon oh my god

i’m about to type a whole ass ESSAY at midnight because i have been DYING to talk about this for months ajfdksljk,,, this is going to be obscenely long and i might end up adding even more to it as i continue to rewatch the show because there is truly no shortage of trans jeff content (especially when you’re trans and see transness in every little thing ajdkslfkjs)

spoiler warning for literally everything about this show under the cut <3

i 100% agree, i feel like he realized he was trans super young, especially since in the show we see him as a little kid a couple of times. 

like look at little jeff with the oversized sweatshirt and little ponytail!! that’s childhood trans fashion. not to be dramatic but part of me thinks that jeff’s dad left before he fully came out to his family (which gives him even more angst about it, because until that one Thanksgiving episode, he’s never able to prove to his dad that he’s a better man), but part of me thinks that his dad left after he came out (which adds that spicy i-should-have-stayed-in-the-closet guilt that he has to work through). 

either way, because his dad wasn’t there, he had to base his concept of masculinity on something else, which was becoming a lawyer!! there’s some line that’s like “after the dust and divorce papers were settled the only man i looked up to was [the lawyer guy]”. like, replacing your father figure in your mind with the concept of “a job where you can talk your way in and out of anything and distort other people’s concept of reality”? that’s trans.

 and the fucking THANKSGIVING EPISODE... i struggle to watch it without crying hehe <3 yeowch! the dichotomy of willy jr. being the “wrong” kind of man because he’s “too soft” but jeff also not being enough despite adhering to all the social standards of masculinity... fuck!! this whole scene of him telling his dad “i am Not well adjusted” and talking about how he gave himself an “appendix surgery scar” when he was a kid and he still keeps the get-well-soon letters from his classmates under his bed? oh my god. the implication of people loving him not despite his scars but because of them?? trans. i can’t think about this episode for too long or i’ll start yelling.

OH and this scene? where he talks about how his mom got him a girl costume for halloween?? and everyone said “what a cute little girl” and after a few houses he stopped correcting them?? and “once the shame and the fear wore off, i was just glad they thought i was pretty”?? THAT’S TRANS... the man needs validation oh my god... and then in all the halloween episodes we see he has these ultra-masculine costumes (a cowboy, David Beckham, one of the fast and furious guys even though he never watched the movies, a boxer with his DAD’S boxing gloves... god) costumes are about becoming something else and he always chooses to be hypermasculine and that is trans.

THE PHYSICAL EDUCATION EPISODE!!!!!!! being uncomfortable during P.E. is a queer experience. period. but him being specifically uncomfortable in the clothes someone else is assigning to him? trans. “are we gonna talk about clothes like a girl? or use tapered sticks to hit balls around a cushioned mat like a man?” TRANS. and him eventually stripping in public? celebration of transness. and the fact that he eventually becomes comfortable in both the uniform and his own style!! trans!! god i love this episode. 

AND AND AND!!! the gay dean coming out episode!!! where it’s the three of them discussing the best way for the dean to come out as gay despite not entirely identifying with that label!! so we have both frankie and the dean who are sort of ambiguously queer, and jeff who’s a stealth trans man who’s probably only out to only the study group at this point. this scene where the dean and jeff have this like eyebrow communication while frankie is talking is just so cute. queer-to-queer communication. “I am so curious” “oh?” “intellectually.” “oh...” ajfdksljfk this scene just screams high school GSA to me and i love it so much.

and SPEAKING of the dean!! i totally see you on that. i feel like jeff has some internalized homophobia/biphobia (like he’d throw punches over someone else, but when it comes to himself he has a lot of shame). and also seeing the dean so confident in all his different outfits/costumes has a weird affect on him bc it’s like “okay, the dean, a cis guy, can do that, but i as a trans guy could Not because that’s Breaking the Rules”. which, like, throwback to the halloween thing. of course there’s no right way to be masculine, but mr. winger does not know that.

another thing!! the episode where their emails get leaked? that includes his emails with his therapist. fuck!! he was outed to the whole world in that episode!! no wonder he was so fucking angry!! this whole episode (and really any time he mentions his therapist) is so interesting when you think about them as a person he talks to about his transition. OH which adds to the thing with the dean!! “and you told your therapist you wanted to be alone this weekend” and “not you jeff, i know you’ll be visiting your dad” ”I told you to stop reading my emails”. luckily his study group has his back and just makes fun of him for emailing astronauts lmao

and WHO can forget “they’re giving out an award for most handsome young man!!!!” what else is there to say about this line besides: he’s trans. you know he didn’t get awarded enough for being a handsome young man when he was a kid, and no amount of compliments when he’s fully-grown can really make up for that. some people crash a kid’s bar mitzvah to cope with the fact that they struggled to be seen as themselves when they were a teenager <3

also his weird relationship with pierce? where he kind of hates him (understandably lmao) but at times has this almost-friends-almost-father-son relationship with him? especially in this episode where he’s forced to bond with him and ends up having a good time by accident (at a barber shop no less, the perfect place to Be A Man with your Man Friend). idk what to say about him besides the fact that pierce says his mom wanted a girl when he was born and made him dress like a girl (and his middle name is anastasia!) so if they’re gonna do any bonding over transness it’s gonna be that. 

okay one last thing and then i’ll shut up for the night. this episode kills me (and almost kills jeff hahahahelpi’mcrying). it’s a very Trans thing to not be able to visualize your future self, it just is. growing up trans at the time he did? i don’t know what kind of future he saw for himself, but i’m so happy that he ended up with a group of friends who became his family and love him the way they all do. i’m so emotional over this asshole it’s ridiculous. 

in conclusion:

they’re trans, your honor <3

[oopsgracie]

seven

peter parker x avenger!reader

summary: codependence was a weakness, but with seven long, lonely nights without you, Peter Parker may have finally come to a realisation.

warnings: bad words, angst

word count: 5.4K

italics = memory / pov change

Six days and ...3,2,1 eighteen hours.

That was how long it had been since you'd gone missing, almost to the second, or so everybody else thought. They had been the worst six, nearly seven days of Peter's life. And he'd been counting down the minutes ever since.

Until you came home.

It was always cold on the roof of the complex, especially in the night breeze but as it whipped against your cheeks you couldn't help but thank it for giving you some other excuse for the tears, even if you had to wrap Peter's sweater a little more tightly around you than you wanted to. The sky was clear, clearer than normal, and the sheer expanse of it from the soft lights of New York City on one horizon to the shadow of the tree line on the other, helped put things into perspective, that Peter could be mad with you all he wanted and it still wouldn't change the fact that nothing would ever really matter, not in the long run. Deep down you know it still won't change the fact that it hurts when he holds her hand down the school hall or that she's sat in your place at the dinner table just downstairs, with your friends and your family but at least for now you can pretend it does.

Of course clarity like that never lasts very long.

This was apparent from the forceful noise of the roof door that shattered the peace you'd deceived yourself with and of course, a very conflicted looking Peter making a beeline for you.

"Peter I—"

"What y/n? What do you have to say that could make up for any of this?" Here it goes. You'd never fought with him, not unironically before, so the crack that fractured through your heart was a fresh one, a step closer to its breaking point.

"I—"

"For once, sorry and a make up breakfast tomorrow morning isn't going to cut it! Not this time," He took a deep breath to steady his voice. It was beginning to shake and a small part of you ached to just leave this, let jealousy rot through you and save him the agony of having to choose his girlfriend over anything you'd ever promised, which in three years of heartbreak and loss shared between two orphaned teenagers in New York City, where, to remind you, civil duty takes priority over loved ones, you're sure you can imagine is a lot, even if you don't remember every single one.

The accusation in his voice felt like it broke them all.

"Why can't you just be happy for me? What is your problem with her? What have I possibly done to push you this far over the edge that for the first time since— since the Blip at least one of us is finally trying to move on and be happy?" Asshole. Asshole asshole asshole.

"Happy Peter? You want happy?" Your voice was trembling and was carried into the night by the wind that soon picked up. "You think I don't want that for you? For my best friend?" This part of you is seething. And not with the usual anger you'd kept down since HYDRA but the kind that simmers just under your skin, waiting for someone to push you too far or to say the wrong thing that makes it boil over. And he wasn't holding back.

"I don't know do you? Because from the way you spoke to her and refuse to even look me in the eye I cant actually tell if you do. It's not my fucking fault that you're jealous, that you don't have the respect to even hold a civil conversation with her, that you think I can't even hug you anymore because—"

"Because fucking what Peter? I'm jealous? I couldn't give a fuck who's bed you sleep in anymore or that because you have a girlfriend I don't want your affection, it's the fact that you can't even make time for the one person you promised to support above anyone else, that you let her speak to me like i'm some whor—"

"I don't have fucking time to deal with your shit right now! Do you not understand what i'm saying? With schoolwork and spiderman and seeing her I don't have time for you to unload ever—"

"Un-fucking-load? All I wanted was to get a sandwich with you after school! Watch a movie at home even, I couldn't give a fuck what it is we did only that I wanted to spend time with you and I can't help but fucking wonder if i'm even that important to you anymore?"

"Well maybe you aren't."

In every argument you'd ever had, you'd never expected Peter Parker to be the one to desert you. To tell you what you'd known all along.

And you could watch the instant regret bloom on his face a thousand times, as any anger in those eyes you get lost in, softened into sorrow and possibly... fear? but somehow you don't think any of that could change the fact that those words had fallen from his lips.

"y/n— I... i'm so—"

"It's fine you made it pretty clear." But as strong as you wished you were and no matter how neutral you kept your features, the tears kept falling. Because above anyone else on this fucking planet he was supposed to understand how it felt to be alone.

"Please, please I'm so sorry I never meant for that to happe—"

"Peter, leave." you wanted your voice to be steady but you could barely even hear a coarse whisper over the wind that snapped your hair against your shoulders violently and snatched any anger from your voice, leaving it bare for only the pain to be heard. And you hoped he'd listen.

And that was the last thing he'd ever told you. That you meant nothing to him. Only a few hours before you'd walked out and never came home. Home to your bed that he'd slept in ever since because it smelled like you, or home to switch off the music that you'd left playing in the kitchen, home so that he could tell you he was sorry and you were worth every second of every day he'd ever known you. That you were his everything.

At first he'd blamed you, gone downstairs and sat right back next to her without even smearing the tears from his cheeks. He'd thought it was unreasonable and unfair that you'd still expected so much from him when all he did was give, give, give. His time, his love and on a few occasions prepared to give his life. And for what? At seventeen years old. You'd thought the same for a while. That Gwen should be his sole focus after patrol and schoolwork. But as time went on and he fell deeper, even the smiles disappeared when he looked at you and the movie nights with Morgan and training practice that was literally compulsory. Which then made you mad, then sad before jealousy snuck in and poisoned every breath that filled your aching chest. Until it finally imploded.

And left him there, alone with nothing but the pieces of your heart to try and piece together, to find some clue as to where they'd taken you.

But learning how to breathe without you was as far as he'd got.

Mr Stark had taken you in a few years back, when he'd found you cowered in some room with HYDRA, broken and bleeding, at first tucking you away on the 38th floor of Stark tower that eventually became your home until the move, and somewhat Peter's, to find out what you were, what you did and who you worked for. He remembered it so vividly.

"Hey Mr St—" was how he always greeted his only father figure, except this time when he'd arrived at the complex with an overnight bag and a massive ego for the weekend, he'd been confused as to why he'd ended up on the wrong level, graced with the sight of a grubby teenage girl with tangled hair and a slight accent sat on the floor outside what he thought was his bedroom, except that that was three floors down and this room was very much forbidden. You hadn't noticed the elevator open to reveal a gangly teenage boy yet, or else you probably wouldn't be crying so obviously but from the very first quiet sob that had escaped your control, to the night before he'd hurt you so badly that he thought he might never recover, Peter Parker had been with you for what felt like every second.

And for a while that's all you needed.

He'd taught you in the first few weeks what a friend was. He'd made you laugh for the first time in years, taught you how to work a television and patched up any nicks and bruises you sustained from being clumsy. He'd even learned to braid so that he could teach you and attempted a few times to cook you pasta but both of you had been banned from entering the kitchen again ever since. He held your hand through the first day of school and cheered for you when your first report card came home filled in with only straight As. He'd stayed awake while you sobbed into his shirt after nightmares and watched you fall apart over how they treated you, tested you and finally how your life changed when they succeeded in breaking you, leaving you with uncontrollable power you never wanted, only so that he could build you back up when you needed him to and glue every broken piece back together with cuddles and soft words, even with a few nights in his bed where he'd made you watch Star Wars, explaining every scene so many times that you knew it just as well as he did now and forgot your own planet, just for a little while. On bad days he whispered against the crown of your head while you'd both ended up slumped against a wall, how brave you were and how you'd survived this far, "Just another minute", he'd said, "Just hold out another minute and it'll all feel better," for every minute until it worked and your breathing slowed down and you felt safe and supported in the comfort of his embrace.

He'd introduced you to the team, Nat and Bruce first, then Cap and Bucky and everybody else all while Mr Stark kept a watchful eye over how close the two of you became, treating you as he did Morgan and Harley and Peter. Even if you were different. And slightly confused about the way of the world after so many years alone.

It had been some time before you met Wanda. But Peter remembered how your eyes sparked, not with joy, but with a fiery understanding that drew you to her and her to you, sparking a bond forged in shared trauma and a newly lit flame that made you angry, that compelled you to become an example, to train harder, to prove to the rest of the world that HYDRA had not ruined you, nor had they made you, but that what you had suffered at their hands needed to be avenged, a deep desire for an inner sense of justice.

That's what made you an Avenger.

He'd shared his friends with you, introducing you to MJ and Ned and Betty and Harry and even Flash who you'd grown to think of as a more-than-acquaintance despite his selfishness and general asshole-ness. And well, since then your life had been blessed, maybe you weren't completely fixed but the wounds of your past had healed as scars and no longer bled so openly or so frequently. The quiz team accepted you quickly and the group of Peter's friends became yours over time, but he was always your favourite, your best friend. The one person in this world you valued beyond all else, even your own happiness, so when you saw him walk into lunch with his hand in the one and only Gwen Stacey's, you'd grinned and bared the weight of a heavy heart and felt a love so innocent at creation become tainted with resentment that left a bitter taste on your tongue.

And that's when your world collapsed.

The small touches that had become so common slowly withered, even at home, the smiles he saved for the moments when you learned something new or won at his video games he now spent on her when she wore her hair down or his favourite pink skirt, the immediate defence he put up when someone brought up your cluelessness on a word you'd not learned yet or how long it took you to answer an algebra question, were suddenly silenced when they rolled off her tongue and became small flushes of embarrassment or a half-assed, mumbled "hey babe don't you think that's a little harsh?" instead, that left you feeling open and humiliated. Even in the night where you'd sought his familiar warmth for comfort, a reminder that you weren't completely alone, had left you bruised when his arms didn't hold you as tightly anymore.

But it was only once you'd lost him that you realised how he made you feel. His smile that used to mirror yours now lit up the room and his laugh was as sweet as honey, disturbing a warmth in your chest as it dripped of his tongue. The way his curls were mussed in the mornings and the hoarse croak of  his nicknamed 'sleepy voice' sent your heart into overdrive as you fixed it all for him with bacon and eggs on good days and a smoothie when you noticed he hadn't eaten enough vegetables the night before. At first you didn't understand why anything had changed, you missed hanging out of course and first you'd blamed the stomach flutters on that, but he'd never stolen your breath before now, with the exception of a fair fight in the gym, but small details like how his bicep sometimes showed under his shirt, gave you a dwindling mercurial high that had never pulsed through your veins before that day, even when he'd had his shirt off so many times before. Wanda had eventually explained that one. That sometimes when girls and boys get older they learn to love each other differently, like Tony and Pepper or her and Vision, in ways that meant more than 'best friend' and that maybe thats what you felt about Peter. You'd taken some time to mull it over but eventually come to the same conclusion.

You loved Peter Parker.

You were in love with Peter Parker.

And tried so hard to keep it a secret, but with tension built by Gwen, and him drifting farther each day it had peaked that night on the roof. That night that he'd wished on every star you always watched since seven days ago he could take back.

But as he broke it off with Gwen forty eight hours ago, shut out his friends and family and now lay tangled in your bedsheets that were beginning to lose the warm familiarity of you, in your favourite of his hoodies sprayed with your staple perfume, he knew he couldn't. It was done. He couldn't bring himself to go downstairs and admit he was so lost without you, that any attempt to conceal how truly his heart had disappeared with you was futile. The hope of seeing you safe was beginning to dwindle as the presence of you faded into old coffee mugs he refused to clean up, sat right where you'd left them down to the scrunchie you'd left on his wrist which remained exactly where it was, because god forbid he take it off to shower, even though deep down he always expected that they would bring you home. Tony had told him a few evenings ago that they figured out what had happened to you, that their tabs on HYDRA made it obvious they'd taken you back, making him sick to his stomach to the point where he'd thrown up the limited contents of his dinner, three times in the last few hours over what they could be doing to you now, to you again, after everything else they'd put you through. Especially now he knew you'd understand what you were missing and how you must feel so betrayed by what he'd said and done.

The only question they really had left to answer was where.

Where had they taken you? And how could he steal you back? But it was much harder to figure out than he'd expected, and with every second causing you more pain than was fathomable to anybody else, made the waiting even worse.

He knew exactly what would be happening, or so he thought. The solitary rooms that would crush the free spirit he had found in you with the same routine day in, day out that he knew you'd find unimaginably unrelentless and of course the constant torture they inflicted upon you in forms of mental and physical desolation and for what purpose? He'd heard you scream before, albeit over a broken bone or night terror, but that raw pain bounced around in his skull now as clear as day and echoed, making that gut wrenching grief and regret twist painfully again so he wound up dry retching in the bathroom for a fourth time, wondering when this torment will end.

When you come home.

That reduced him to tears for a fiftieth time, to the point where he'd wondered if he'd ever run out of them, that this would make him numb to any other pain, because what could go wrong if his worst nightmare had already come true? And a newfound anger flickered behind his eyes, red rimmed from sleepless nights and determination.

Eventually he went down to lab and stood in the doorway, listening to the endless theories Steve posed that Thor argued with and Nat yelled at. He watched Wanda blink back tears and Tony nervously pace from one end of the room to the other to stay calm but Peter noticed he still couldn't stop his hands from shaking as he shoved them in his pockets. He must be just as terrified as Peter felt, unable to comprehend that he could lose another person he loved, let alone his daughter. Bucky fiddled with a pen that he'd used to write down every base he remembered and Bruce was leant against the wall, silent and unmoving. And that wave of nausea rolled back over Peter when he came to the realisation they were getting nowhere. But this time he pushed it down. If this was how they were planning on saving you it would be another seven days before it happened, then another and another and another, especially without his input as the person who knew you best. From every skeleton in your closet you'd exposed to him there must be something in there that could help, a place, a person. So as he stalked round the back of the room, every mouth fell silent and every eye watched him cautiously, seeing him skulking around was all they saw him do now, but only ever alone, too incensed to spend time with the others. He flicked through every page of Bucky's notes until he finally came across the one.

Siberia.

The place of Bucky's torture and the reason for the way you sometimes mispronounced words, unnoticeable to most people but the roll of your 'R's was unmistakable to Peter from the nights you'd whispered against his chest or buried your head in the crook of his neck.

There was a feeling in his gut that told him there.

—————

So a day later that's where they went, and they fought and they bled and they struggled until you were found, unconscious, and for the longest second Peter had thought you were dead, screaming at Tony on the intercom to come and wake you up, until he felt your cold breath against his cheek while he'd cradled you in a heap on the floor whispering sweetly any shaky apology he could think of, waiting for anyone to come and help take you back.

That was the way it had been for another seven days.

You, unmoving, in the infirmary after the best doctors had pronounced you comatose as a result of sustained and undiagnosed injury to the frontal lobe.

The moon was bright and still in the velvet night, lighting the way down the empty hallway that lead to your hospital-like room where, from behind a closed door, the steady beep of your heartbeat echoed clearly in the silence, matching his although he'd never know that. He'd had his duvet and pillow in hand, despite being forced to get some rest in his own bed by the others, but the knowledge that you were right there and still alone sat uneasily in the pit of his stomach, hatching a plan to come down later, aka now, when everybody else was asleep and exhausted from a flight to Russia and back, and the week of worry your absence had carved into everyone's lives. But it wasn't over yet and that made Peter want to scream. They'd taken you from him once and now, you might be slipping away for the final time, not knowing that he could never love anyone as much as you.

It was then his spider sense prickled and every instinctual alarm inside him blared, that this time nobody would lay a finger on you, but the fight not flight triggered by the opening door faded into a sharp heartbeat when a tired looking Tony, with bags under his eyes as black as Peter's, emerged with a look of plain shock, that slackened to understanding when he recovered from the initial surprise of seeing a small, pale boy stood about twenty feet away from him, clutching his space themed bedding like a lifeline and looking like death was one step away with a drawn complexion and a sag in his shoulders, blinking like a deer caught in headlights.

"Hey kid," he sighed, and a breath of relief spread through Peter. So he wasn't going to send him back upstairs.

"Hey Mr Stark, is she okay?" the worry was still evident in his voice but Tony noticed a slight, albeit saddened smile tug at the corner of Peters mouth that he hadn't seen in more than a week. And that relieved him, if only slightly.

"Yeah Pete she'll be okay," he smiled "...she just needs time," And he ruffled Peters hair playfully, making that smile bloom into a dull laugh that bounced off the apex roof. It was a start. "Go ahead, I know she never likes to be alone," and Peter did, for the next six nights, he chose your floor over any mattress, and he'd do it again. He won't admit it but he spent more time crying over you and matching his breathing to yours in any attempt to alleviate the jarring sobs that racked his chest, than he did sleeping, but it was still a few hours more than he'd got while you were gone, so he was grateful for that much, and obviously he'd thanked the stars you loved to watch that you would no longer be under their control, only his, and the doctors orders.

He did that until today. Where after his first day home from school, that he'd avoided like the plague while you were gone, he had drawn a chair up next to you and was detailing how Ned and him were going to build the new Lego model Millennium Falcon in a few days and how much love the group had sent you, even Flash, rather excitedly. That was until the hand he held in his, rubbing over your knuckles in soft little circles, suddenly twitched and the colour of your eyes became visible through slits.

"Y/n?" he'd gasped breathlessly, still not allowing himself the freedom to hope that this could be true and over and that he could sleep in a real bed tonight  but most importantly that it would be nestled against you and Star Wars and maybe Morgan if she promised not to get scared of the Sith. These dreams had rattled endlessly in circles around his head, in his sleep, even invading the zoned-out-space you go when you stare out the window in math class, but he'd pushed them so far ahead of the curve it became a sphere, and they came right back around the next night, feeling like a sucker punch to the stomach when he'd awake in a cold sweat with clammy cheeks. But this time... this time they might finally come true.

And he can make it right.

And as he watched you blink a few times, the spark you once had long extinguished, he couldn't ignore the ache he still felt but vowed to help you light it once again, you gripped his hand like a vice and he smiled inwardly over how strong you'd remained, in more ways than just how hard you squeezed him, and as new sets of tears rolled down your cheeks he wiped every one dry, too stunned to speak so he peppered you with forehead kisses and gentle hugs that did all the talking, your head against his chest feeling the exact same way it used to. He'd told FRIDAY to get Mr Stark and the others, but wanted this moment to last so he closed his eyes, breathed in the smell of your hair and held you together.

—————

Even a few days later your memory was hazy. You'd thought Peter's room was yours and slept in his bed by accident, you couldn't remember how you got home and had no real idea of who Pepper was which frightened Morgan a little at first, but the doctors had assured them with solemn nods that the memories would be back and that detachment was a common coping mechanism among trauma patients. And, over the course of the next seven days, it slowly trickled back feeling as tangible as water for a while until it began to materialise again, with encouragements of "That's my girl!" from Tony and a tearful 'reunion' with Pepper and hugs from everyone you knew, and some you didn't remember yet. The names of your friends, what your favourite song was and finally, in the middle of the night while you watched the strange boy you always, always knew you loved, sleep peacefully, the steady rise and fall of his solid chest a comfort against your cheek, the words that melted from his soft lips like poison struck you right through the heart, that you were so unable to fit into his life that he'd let you walk away, and left an earth shattering rift between your twin souls in the wake.

That thought made you physically draw back, it felt like a sting, a mockery of every soft spoken sentence he'd mumbled and the way he held your hand under the dining table was suddenly unconvincing. His duvet abruptly didn't feel very reassuring and so, as you had before, although you couldn't quite pinpoint the details from the last time you did this, you left into the night alone. This time only onto the roof again, partly as a reminder, a way of gaining clarity on the fuzzy memory swimming around somewhere just out of reach, as the Doctors had told Tony on the sofa just inside, that places and faces would help clear up any confusion, if you could physically see the setting it had happened, but also because you hadn't seen the stars in so many weeks it felt wrong to be anywhere else.

And all you were doing when once again Peter shattered your silence, this time breathing rapidly, his cheeks drained of colour and the telltale trace of panicked tears that shone under the starlight, was looking up. He didn't say anything, completely understanding what had happened, what you were piecing together and instead hesitantly brushed his hand over yours that was rested on the railing. You let him.

Maybe minutes, maybe hours later, you heard a broken...

“I'm so sorry,"

... ricochet through the dark, and it finally broke you. You hadn't cried since the day you came back, but knowing that it was true and they hadn't put that thought in there made you question everything for a second.

But only a second.

Because shortly after, everything else came crashing down, the braids, the pasta, the hugs and the school days and your friends and Peter, the real Peter that could never hate a bone in your body, the one that stood by your side now and for always.

And suddenly you couldn't keep it down anymore.

You didn't know why you had to in the first place yet, Gwen Stacey not taking up enough brain capacity to be worth remembering, but you knew that now the time was finally right to tell him how you felt. Wanda had told you you'd know and as the moon washed over the brush of his hair, and hollowed the depth of his cheekbones and reflected so slightly in the tears that had caught in his eyelashes, you just knew.

"Peter?"

"Hmm?"

"I— i like you," you whispered, almost ashamedly with deep red cheeks graced with the flush of embarrassment at being so transparent with your 'best friend'.

"I like you too," he smiled back breathily, taking your hand finally and squeezing it three times.

"No I mean—"

"I know what you mean," he interrupted, trying to hide a smile by tucking his head down, taking a deep breath.

“But Pete—“

“—I think I love you y/n,” he whispered at the same time. He’d told you he’d loved you before, but the erratic heart palpitations set this time apart from the others, making a smile tug at the corner of your lips, unnatural feeling from disuse but genuine, and it sent a wave of courage through Peter.

“I— I'm so sorry y/n, so sorry that I won't ever be able to tell you how much. While you were g—gone I couldn't sleep, I couldn't eat, I couldn't even breathe sometimes because the fact that you weren't there, and your last memory of me might have been that, tore me up so bad in ways you can't ever understand, and it made me realise, that all along, especially that night, i'd been so in love with you that I was so in denial that the only way I knew how to fix it was to push you away and also—“ he was rambling, the nerves evident in the edge of his voice, so you placed a finger against his lips and brushed the messy hair from his forehead, leaving your favourite curl in its place before meeting his wide eyed gaze with a sharp breath of anticipation.

“I forgive you,"

"Wait really? 'cause I thought—"

"And I love you too,"

Before you formed a single thought, he was catching your bottom lip between his and despite his super strength, he cradled one half of your face in gentle disbelief, the yellow edges of an aged bruise bleeding from between his fingers where he touched you softly, reassuring himself this was real. The warmth of his mouth against yours slowly beginning to knit over every wound and you felt the cool tinge of peace on the horizon as you moulded your lips with his. When he pulled away he’d had a smug look in those round doe’s eyes and a smirk that tugged against his upper lip.

“What Parker?” you breathed, leaning your forehead against his.

But he just grinned, thinking of the stars as they finally aligned and shone down on the two of you. And they hadn’t budged since.

—————

you can make writing requests here

[moonylantsovs]

Unlikely Match [ J.M ]

summary: You found yourself stumbling into Bellamy's tent at a really inconvenient moment, experiencing your first heartbreak, never expecting John Murphy to be the one to pick up the pieces.

pairings: john murphy x griffin!reader, slight bellamy blake x griffin!reader

warnings: angst, swearing, mentions of sex

A/N: This is an au for maggie's (@slytherinbarnes) bellamy blake series called 'sub rosa'. It isn't necessary for you to read it before this but I'd recommend you to because it's amazing! Also, this was supposed to be longer but my phone deleted it the first time I wrote it so this is the rewritten version

𝗆𝖺𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍

You wouldn't call this a usual day at the delinquent camp, but it was close enough. Especially after everything you experienced in the past week. From a kid jumping off a cliff in front of you and making a decision to banish one of your own, to a mechanic flying down to Earth in a pod so you could contact The Ark and to John Murphy stumbling into camp, beaten up and carrying a disease you can't remember the exact details of the situation - that was always your sister's stronger side - but you can remember it spread like wildfire and it created complete chaos in camp.

But that was what the grounders wanted. To start killing your people off one by one from the inside. And John was the key. 

You didn't blame him for it of course, he wasn't aware that the grounders made him a walking contagious disease. But he was aware he gave them information about everything he knew about your camp so yeah, you were a little pissed about that.

Not as much as Bellamy was though, if you asked him he'd let John back into the woods without the care if the grounders captured him or not. You and your twin sister - Clarke Griffin - cared though and that was the only reason he was in camp right now and not running around the woods, alone.

You remembered Bellamy's words when you told him John wouldn't be a danger to camp. 

"Fine, he can stay. But he doesn't leave this camp or get a gun. He's your responsibility. So if he does anything, it's on you."

Truth is, Bellamy didn't mean what he said. He was just pissed John was staying after everything that happened with Charlotte. He knew it and you knew it too, so you brushed off his words and went back to camp, still choosing to keep a close eye on John during the next few days.

Now, you were making your way to Bellamy's tent. You weren't sure if you were going inside to apologize for how harsh your words towards him were during your fight or if you were coming to him as one leader to another so you could set things right and make the job of leading easier.

Deep down, you knew it was the first option but you didn't want to face your true feelings for him just yet. You wanted to at least wait until the war with the grounders was over before starting anything with him.

You stepped into the tent, calling his name, only to come face to face with a scene you never wanted to see again, it made you feel both nauseous and mad. 

Raven stopped putting her shirt on and her eyes widened at the sight of your figure standing at the entrance of the tent. You quickly put your hand over your chest, blocking out Bellamy's wide, guilt-written eyes.

"Sorry--" you stammered "I-- uh some people aren't back from hunting yet, so come find me when you're . . . done."

Ignoring Bellamy calling your name, you turned around and made your way past the delinquents that were still outside their tents and to the camp gate. The two kids that were guarding the gate were Miller and Starling, knew not to question why you - one of their leaders - was going outside camp, especially after seeing you already had a gun on you, and they let you out.

You needed to clear your head, the picture of Bellamy and Raven in the same bed half-naked was tattooed in your brain and you needed to get it out before you explode. You needed Clarke. But Clarke was still out with Finn and Myles, probably lost and you needed to find her but to do that you'd have to be able to look Bellamy in the eyes and you knew you wouldn't be able to do that.

A snap of a twig made you aim your gun - which you still didn't know how to shoot properly - at the bush the noise came from.

"Relax, Princess. I'm not planning on killing you anytime soon."

You recognized the voice belonged to John Murphy and immediately dropped the gun "What the hell, Murphy?"

He cleared his throat awkwardly "I uh-- saw you run out and then I saw Raven coming out of Bellamy's tent so I kinda connected the dots."

"And you were allowed out of camp why?"

"Because Miller saw it too and got worried so he let me out." John admitted, looking at you almost sheepishly.

You nodded in understanding and looked back down. The two of you never really interacted at a time he wasn't an asshole or tried to kill someone. He was the camp's psychopath and you were the invisible Griffin twin that hid in her parent's closet.

"Why wouldn't you kill me?" you asked hesitantly "I'm one of the reasons you got banished."

He nodded, rubbing his chin slightly "Yeah but you're also the reason I'm allowed to stay here. Plus telling Bellamy you'd keep an eye on me isn't a job anyone would take."

"How do you--"

"You're not very subtle." he interrupted with a chuckle "I saw you following me around camp with your eyes too many times for me to count."

Now it was your turn to smile sheepishly "Sorry."

"It's fine." John brushed it off with a shrug before noticing the sadness in your eyes and speaking up again "Bellamy's an idiot, you know that right?"

You scoffed at his words and shook your head only for him to speak up again "Well only an idiot would choose a one night stand over Y/N Griffin."

Both of you were surprised by the sincerity in his words. John felt a sudden feeling of vulnerability shoot through his body and he didn't like it one bit so he quickly plastered on his usual cocky smirk and added "I mean if you ever want to get back at him I'm right here."

You gave him a deadpan look "In your dreams, Murphy."

I mean yeah. He thought bluntly before shaking those thoughts away and grinning "Never said you need to sleep with me, Princess. There'd be a little payback both ways by making the king jealous. Just sayin'."

"Wouldn't you like that? you chuckled teasingly.

Yes he would. Because John Murphy could never get himself to figure out why someone as smart and as beautiful as you could fall for someone like Bellamy Blake. It's not like he's any better, but it just made him dislike the male even more.

"You know he doesn't deserve you, right?" John asked after a bit of surprisingly peaceful silence.

You just shrugged at his words, nor believing a word he said. But not because he had a habit of lying every time he opened his annoyingly smartass mouth. It was because you really couldn't see it. Raven was beautiful, the smartest person in camp, if not on Earth, and everything you didn't think you were.

Why would anyone think any different?

Noticing you didn't believe his words, John sighed and gave you a small smile "Well for your information, I'd pick you over anyone else any day."

"I thought the big bad Murphy didn't need anyone."

He stared at you for a few seconds with something unrecognizable in his eye and you were about to open your mouth to ask if there was something on your face when he beat you to it "Do you even know what my real name actually is?"

You narrowed your eyes in thought before a look of realization passed over your face "Wait 'Murphy' isn't your real name?"

"No. But it's last name and I go by it. My first name is John."

Before you could stop yourself you let out a snort - some would say it was completely unattractive but John thought it was adorable - followed by a chuckle as you repeated his name in disbelief "John?"

Said bot squinted his eyes at your amused, no longer heartbroken face, and asked "What?"

You shook your head with another chuckle "I never would have pegged you for a 'John'." 

"And I never would have pegged you for a girl that falls for someone like Bellamy Blake." 

He didn't even realize what he said until he did and was about to apologize, maybe begged you not to slap him but you laughed instead and nodded in amused "Touché."

And that's how you spent the rest of the night, sitting on a log right outside of camp and talking. Sharing stories about how each of you grew up and growing closer than you thought you ever would with someone like John Murphy.

But I guess there's a first time for everything.

[imaginethebeautifulworld]

prussia x reader: silly squabbles

Hello, lovelies~ I was plagued by images of this dumbass and his general ridiculousness, so of course I had to write it all out. This fic is pointless, but I hope you enjoy anyway.

"You are really annoying."

"And yet, somehow, I'm not detecting any real annoyance. Wonder why?"

His words hung lightly in the air, gentle and playful, just shy of taunting.

You did your best to ignore them, trying to focus on your book. But his fingers were moving again, trailing over your back in an inconsistent pattern, heavy enough a presence to register, yet just light enough to torment.

You were sure, in some long-winded, ridiculous, roundabout way, he would blame you for this predicament- for not reading as fast as him, for not paying him enough attention during a lazy day in.

Regardless, you tried to focus on the passage at hand, rereading the same paragraph for the tenth time now as he teased a particularly sensitive spot near your ribs.

He wasn't quite tickling you- not yet- but the shifting tempo and pressure all played upon the obvious threat.

Only mildly irritated- really, you were too familiar with his shenanigans by now to ever be truly annoyed- your focus landed on the bookcase, the only immediate target for your long-suffering gaze. "Do you mind?"

There was a hint of pride in his voice as he answered, a cockiness at successfully distracting you. "Nope!"

His fingers- now having tasked themselves with massaging more than teasing- paused between your shoulder blades. "Why? Do you?"

Rather than allow him another victory, you huffed quietly, pointedly making an effort to lose yourself once more in your book. "No... Not at all."

If he was amused by your answer practically being ground between your teeth, he made no indication of it. Instead, he resumed his massage, keeping his palm mostly flat against your spine, adopting a steady rhythm that lulled you into some semblance of security.

You allowed yourself to relax, turning your attention fully to your tale, praying he would at least let you finish this chapter in relative peace.

It was a hope to be short-lived alas, his posture shifting, bringing him near enough to read over your shoulder.

You were far too invested to truly pay him any mind, but then he was hovering near your temple, fingers drifting ever closer to your neck, once more dancing in that maddeningly light way which he employed solely in effort to agitate you.

You knew what he was doing, and you'd be damned if you'd let him win; summoning every ounce of self-restraint within you, you purposely, blatantly, chose to ignore him.

It took only a few moments for him to acknowledge your determination towards defiance (a few torturous moments where he had started tracing his nails against your hairline and whispered some of the passage aloud), his huff of displeasure bring you a small taste of sweet, sweet victory.

You would have been naive to think he had given up, knew it would be foolish to assume, to dare to presume, that he didn't already have other strategies in mind.

What you couldn't guess, regretfully, was exactly which plan he would attempt next.

When he sat upright once more, leaving you to lounge peacefully on your stomach, you unwisely surmised that he was actually finished with the whole affair, that he'd grown bored, that he would actually leave you to your novel in peace.

Feeling him shift back to the head of the bed, hearing him tapping away at his phone- these factors allied with his distance away from you all allayed your worries, letting you escape once more to the realm belonging to the pages before you.

The temporary tranquility was somehow less than simply fleeting; it had scarcely existed at all.

Not even five minutes had passed, and you felt teasing fingers once more, now grazing ever-so-softly against the bare skin of your ankle.

A jolt of panic fueled your reflexive movement away from him, your legs kicking, book falling to the floor in your surprise.

You shot upright and fixed him with a glare, hoping to convey just how furious you were with him. "I swear to God-!"

The villainous grin on his face revealed vanity in its purest form, and it did nothing to reduce your resentment.

Scowling now, and forcing yourself into an upright position, you narrowed your eyes at him. "What do you want, asshole?"

He was quiet for a moment, by all appearances still savoring his triumph. But then his smile shifted, the self-satisfied smirk falling slowly into something softer, fonder.

It took you by surprise, sent a stutter through your pulse, all irritation rapidly transitioning into confusion. "What?"

He shifted forward, leg bending beneath him as he drew closer.

Suspicious, but not too concerned, you offered an unimpressed expression, relaying your distrust. "Gil?"

There was a flicker to his smile, but it was soon replaced by something far more serious, his eyes languidly studying your features.

Briefly, more a passing fancy, you considered teasing him for his sudden quiet, yet there was something too tremulous tormenting him, and you dismissed the thought as quickly as it came, instead offering your concern. “Teuton?”

Whatever spell that had held him within its grasp was finally dismissed, his head cocking to the side and a considering tone coating his next words. “You love me, right?”

It sounded innocent enough, and his behavior certainly suggested no ill-intent. But you knew him, and knew all-too-well not to fully believe in it. “Is that a trick question?”

You made sure to keep your words only just on the side of playful, but tempered with enough sincerity to assuage any possible self-doubts that may be afflicting him.

It was clearly the right approach, the left corner of his mouth only just hinting at a smile, a familiar spark almost tangible in the air. “It’s a simple question, Liebling. No need to sound so suspicious!”

You felt your eyes narrow as you studied him, his wording only heightening your wariness. “You know- The fact you feel you have to say so really isn’t winning you any points here.”

His grin was back at that, disorienting in its intensity, just enough that you nearly forgot his previous grimness. “I’m just asking if you love me, mein Schatz. ‘Snot like I’m asking you to sell me your immortal soul or something.”

You neglected to point out how those two things were near one and the same, instead choosing to offer a faux sincerity. “Oh no, you’re right. I hate you so much,” you quipped, each syllable oversaturated in sarcasm.

He scoffed, melodramatically pressing a hand to his chest. “I’m wounded.”

You rolled your eyes, leaning down just long enough to rescue your book from the floor, marking your page and setting beside you on the comforter. “I’m sure your pride will be just fine."

“I dunno…” His words trailed off, and you could make out the distinct, irritating sound of him sucking on his teeth. “I think it may be mortal this time.”

You decided to play along, content to lose yourself in the absurdity. “Oh no,” came your reply, emotionless a tone as you could muster, in spite of the smile playing on your lips. “How could I possibly live with myself?”

He hummed, running a finger over his chin as if he were seriously considering it. “You’d probably take my fortune, settle somewhere warm.”

You fought a laugh, unsuccessfully. “Mm, definitely. Have sordid affairs with all the cabana boys and the waitresses.”

“Sing drunken renditions of Mamma Mia during karaoke night.”

“And I’ll adopt some ugly, exotic pet that I insist travels with me everywhere.”

“Only after your third husband disappears after mysterious circumstances, of course.”

He was only half-serious, and you couldn’t resist raising an eyebrow in mock offense. “Only three?”

Your question made him snicker, his eyes shining in amusement, but he didn’t continue the exchange.

Several moments passed, and with them the lingering ridiculousness of the “argument” faded away. There were many of these odd backs-and-forths, all somehow sillier than the last. The quiet was just as pleasant though, and you embraced the comfort it carried.

That was, until, he was biting his lip in thought, his amusement long abandoned.

Concerned, you shifted closer, studying his features carefully. "Gil?"

His eyes were glued to some distant place you couldn’t see, miles and centuries away from the here and now. “You do love me, right?”

“Of course,” you replied almost reflexively, still taken aback by the sudden shift back to solemnity.

“Really?” His eyes turned to yours once more, unguarded, open, a haunting fragility shining in them that made your heart clench inside your chest.

Wherever this insecurity came from, you wished you could rid him of it, tear all traces of it from his psyche, make it so he would never question his self-worth ever again.

As it was, you did what you could, lifting his hand to your lips and pressing a soft kiss to his ring, meeting his gaze as you lingered against the silver. “Would you be wearing this if I didn’t?”

There was a smile, the one you fell in love with: fond, slightly shy, just a little cocky. “Good point.”

You couldn’t help but feel as if something was still off about him however, something bothering him that you couldn’t even hope to guess. “Why do you ask, anyway?”

He took to studying your features again, his free hand rising to trace his fingers softly against your cheek. His eyes were warm and gentle, posture completely at ease. His words however-

“Sometimes I can’t believe this is real, or how lucky I am; some days I swear you’re just a figment of my imagination.”

His words carried an almost unbearable amount of loneliness, layered among disbelief and adoration. They triggered several different emotions within you, stirring them into a frenzied muss of affection and sadness, leaving you breathless.

Several potential reactions came to mind, but were all dismissed as you weighed his words, compared them to the relaxation of his shoulders, the familiarity as he languidly brushed his fingertips behind your ear, lightly teasing your scalp.

You could easily surrender to it, could already feel your own posture relaxing with each steady shift of his fingers. Still, you weren’t quite ready to abandon your prior playfulness, offering a haughty hum to prelude your reply.

“Unfortunately for you, I’m very real.” You felt a passing smirk flicker to life for a moment, blazing brightly before it was gone again, sober sincerity settling once more in its place. “You’re stuck with me, Beilschmidt. Forever…” you finished in an elongated stage whisper.

He breathed a laugh, the slightest hiss, his grin irrepressible now. His tone, however, mimicked nonchalance. “Eh. There are worse things, I guess.”

The tease was impossible to ignore, especially as that all-too-familiar deviousness was taunting in its own right.

You tried to keep your words accusatory, but they came out entirely too fond. “You’re a dick.”

He smirked, offering a half-hearted shrug.

“Guilty,” he sang, almost entirely too proud.

Suddenly, unexpectedly, he was cradling both of your cheeks, and before you could guess at his next move, he was shifting forward, gently pressing a kiss to your forehead. “But I’m a dick who loves you very much.”

Thanks for reading!

[baka-writings]

𝘈 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳𝘦��𝘵 𝘖𝘯𝘦 - 𝘒𝘪𝘮 𝘠𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘨𝘣𝘪𝘯 & 𝘓𝘦𝘦 𝘚𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘩𝘺𝘶𝘬 (𝘚𝘍9)

Warnings: angst, smut (not a threesome), probably car sex, fuckboy!Dawon, language, unprotected sex (reader is on birth control), mentions of past trauma which includes triggering themes such as harassment etc; If this is something that might trigger you, please don't read this as it will be slightly detailed

Summary: There was something going on between you and Dawon, you weren't dating but weren't fwb either. You had a crush on him despite his fuckboyish lifestyle, because before when you talked he himself said he liked you, so you thought it will be okay. But it wasn't. What will happen?

Word count: around 4k (rip)

This gonna be very long honestly, so prepare yourself. Also this is written in a huge time interval so please read everything, because it might not make sense If you skip something. It's starting in the past and continues until present day. Also² I was not naming the members, they were always "your friends" and "your brother" because I let you choose who your brother is so I didn't want it to be weird

Thank you for reading🖤

𝙇𝙚𝙚 𝙎𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙝𝙮𝙪𝙠;

Many see him as that handsome, funny and talented guy. All of that is true, but what they don't know and don't see is the fact that he can have and he in fact has every girl who wants him. It always pissed you off, because you had a huge crush on him, but yeah you're not the only one as you can see. Sometimes you thought about how lucky those girls were, but on the other hand you pitied them. You shouldn't be worrying about such things though, it's not like he'd ever feel the same way as you feel about him. Not with these girls around anyway.

His friends knew how you felt about him and they felt sorry for you. Not the pitiful sorry, but the sad one, because they knew your feelings were genuine, but they will never be returned; not from Sanghyuk. Your brother (choose which member you want as your bro, except Dawon and Youngbin) always joked that you can have one of his friends who were your friends as well, but that's not the same. You can't just throw the crush on someone away in seconds. However, the sight of him fucking every bitch that passed him hurt you everytime. You were living like this for five months and nothing has changed since then. Well you knew your brother was right, there was a certain someone with a crush on you so by time you could develop a relationship, but it's not that simple. You're not like Sanghyuk. You can't just "love" one person today and another one the next day. You wouldn't be able to even If you tried. Not gonna lie all of this was getting to you. No sleep, lot's of anxiety and stress. Your brother and his friends started to notice that, but you always shut the off so they didn't bother you. Throughout the time you hung out with them, even Sanghyuk joined sometimes, which always lowkey made you happier, because he actually talked you nicely, hugged you, was close to you as If he wasn't fucking that girl he came home with last night. Why was he so affectionate all of a sudden? Honestly you knew something was off and you weren't that naïve to actually think he'd like you or that he'd actually date you and ditch his bitches. You were long over it.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Week by week after those few times he hung out with you, Sanghyuk was having less and less girls around himself, that made you suspicious. You didn't want to ask him about it, it's none of your business anymore, okay honestly it never was your business plus you were starting to slowly fall out of your whole crush thing. But there must've been something wrong with Sanghyuk. He casually talked to you whenever you dropped by, actually sometimes replied to you in a group chat the 10 of you have. Before he always ignored it or just replied with an emoji. Is this a prank? That's the only thing that came to your mind. There was no way he was being nice to you just because he wanted to. You told one of your friend's what was happening and all they told you was 'you should be happy'. But should you really? This was not making you happy, suspicious and intrigued yes, but not happy.

You continued to play his little game for weeks. You got a bit closer to each other and in that period of time you haven't seen him with any other girl. You could maybe give him a chance no? You asked him what happened and how come he wasn't doing whatever he was doing before. His reply was simple, only a 'because I like you now so I'm not touching any other girl'

He liked you.. at that time. You asked him about the 'now', because to you it sounded like 'I want to fuck and dump YOU now that's why I'm nice' But even If so, you couldn't believe he was not around any other girls? What If he really liked you?

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Your relationship has been going on & off for about 2 months. It was weird, because you were close, but not dating neither fucking. Even your friends and your brother actually believed that he is finally normal and that you guys would be probably dating anytime soon. However to be super honest, surprisingly it wasn't him who didn't want to date, it was you. There was still some kinda of tension from your side towards him, even If it's not that visible. You just couldn't really 'submit' to him...for personal reason he didn't know about. No one knew, not even your brother.

Some time has passed and Sanghyuk was starting to be a bit more impatient and became touchy and demanding with you. Of course you didn't like it. Now it was all getting to you, he wanted you now as he said before, which meant the exact same thing you thought before. But you didn't want it and he didn't understand. You said no everytime he tried something. It was all getting really uncomfortable, because he didn't care at all. You were just another one of his fuck toys.

You didn't know whether to cry or yell at him. You fell for his charms again and he let you down..again.

That one day you finished earlier at school/work and your brother and friends had a week off so you thought to visit them in their dorm without announcing yourself. You were greeted with a hug from your brother, however he seemed a bit... stressed? When you asked him about it, he said it was nothing so you brushed it off. As you walked inside, you were greeted by some of your friends as well, some hugging you, some just waving. You were talking about your days, schedules, weather, anything that came to your mind. Which also reminded you of a certain someone. Although your relationship was getting worse after what he did, you still low-key cared? Yes dumb.

But when you asked them where Sanghyuk was, they all got nervous and avoided the question. You wanted to call them out, but right at that time he was walking with not one, but two girls who obviously weren't his "friends" at all. Oh so he was at it again.

Everyone could see how your expression changed. He was just standing there, laughing with those bitches as If you weren't there at all.

"This is what "liking" me looks like? I thought...well I hoped you'd actually stop with all of this" you were looking straight into his soul.

"You hoped for what again? You didn't even let me touch you, how could you even expect me to keep liking you" he replied with no regret, not even after he realized your brother was literally in the same room. They all stood shocked and angry.

"You know shit about me, I knew you were an asshole, but I didn't know this much" you told him.

"Yet you still 'loved' me. If you'd let me take you, one of these would be you" he motioned at his hoes, disgusting you.

"You know what, fuck off all 3 of you" you stormed out as fast as you could, letting your tears fall.

••••••••••••••••Present Time••••••••••••••••

Now you're alone, sitting on the beach during s peaceful looking evening/night. You don't know when you got there, but it was so quiet there. All you could hear were your sobs. Right when you stormed out of the dorm, your legs took you the furthest they could. Now you knew you could let it all go and cry until you couldn't anymore, because you were alone, which was bad but also good at the same time.

Your phone was buzzing like crazy, probably messages from your brother, you though. You didn't want him to worry so you checked all messages which mostly said "where are you" and "are you okay?" . No you weren't okay, not at all.

It buzzed another time, but this time it was not your brother. It was a message from Youngbin. Great. You had nothing against Youngbin, but didn't want to talk to anyone, but you checked the message anyway. Maybe because you had that soft spot for Youngbin? He had a crush on you, which was known to you, but he never said or tried anything, because he respected you and knew you liked Sanghyuk.

The message said:

Where are you? I'm going to pick you up

You were hesitant to reply, but told him where you were. After some time you saw someone walking over to you, since it was dark you couldn't recognise who it was, only when they got closer you recognized the person - Youngbin.

He say beside you, silently scared to speak up.

"I'm sorry" he said quietly.

"What for? " you didn't look at him. You didn't want him to see your puffy eyes. But he knew anyway.

"For everything that happened" he said in a rather quiet voice.

"It's not your fault.." right, it wasn't his fault, he only felt sorry for you..

"But you don't deserve what he did" you laughed at his response. It wasn't meant to be rude, but you couldn't help yourself.

"Maybe I do" Youngbin took a breathe and wanted to say something, but you continued

*TW ahead*

"All of my relationships were the same" you still haven't looked at him

"Was cool at first, but then?" you giggled again

Youngbin was looking at you, waiting for you to continue what you wanted to say.

"...then I became their sex toy only. They thought they can touch me and make me do things anytime" he still listened hatefully.

" And the word no?"

" It was like an invitation for them. I could've screamed and begged them to stop, but no use. No one could hear me" Youngbin was looking at you with wide eyes, not daring to say anything.

“It would be a lot easier If it happened once... but it was two times in two different relationships” you continued

“So I asked myself, what’s wrong with me that it had to happen so often” you were tearing up now, so was Youngbin, but he decided to speak up.

“There’s nothing wrong with you, trust me”

“Then why did it happen?” you raised your voice and looked him in the eyes. He didn’t know what to reply, your situation wasn’t easy and he was scared he’d hurt you. Oh If you just knew how he loved you.

All of this was making him mad. How can someone hurt you? He’d never imagine hurting you, both physically and mentally. His blood was boiling as you continued.

“At that time it was so hard for me and honestly I wanted to end it all, but I stayed strong” Youngbin got closer to you and hugged you carefully. You let him.

“So when Sanghyuk touched me it all came back and I realized he viewed me as one of his many girls as well”

Youngbin spoke up “Does your brother know about all of this?”  You shook your head no.

“He knows them, what do you think he’d do?” You looked at Youngbin.

“Most likely murder them” he half asked half said.

„That’s right plus he is busy with his own things“ You replied

Youngbin was still hugging you which strangely calmed you down. Affection usually made you jumpy or scared for obvious reasons, but Youngbin’s hug was so soothing. You let your head fall on his shoulder as you sighed.

„I just don’t understan why does this always happen to me. I just want to be loved“ you sighed again. Youngbin was a bit hesistant, but spoke up

„I can show you real love“ he knew it sounded a bit better in his head and by the look on your face he was scared that he messed up.

You raised an eyebrow. Since you knew he had a crush on you it didn’t really surprise you, but the timing was kinda wrong.

„Oh? Please be more specific, I don’t want to end up like before“ your face was too close to his.

„I mean...you probably know since your brother can’t shut up, but I really love you and I’d never hurt you“ you looked away not knowing what to say.

„That’s what all of them said and look“ what you said sounded a bit harsh, but he understood very well. It’s not easy to trust someone after all you’ve been through.

„I understand and respect whatever your reply is, just wanted to let you know“

The word ‚respect‘ was stuck in your head. Is actually someone really ready to respect you? Deep down you knew what he’s saying is true. Youngbin is that person who’d indeed respect you.

You looked at him, worry in his eyes visible.

„I’m sorry I shouldn’t have-“ you cut him off with a kiss. He was caught off guard obviously and fell on his back, your upper body on his.This is crazy and you know that. Honestly If it was someone else you’d not have done that, but you knew how he felt about you. And never stopped liking you despite your obvious interest in Sanghyuk. Maybe Youngbin was the person who deep down kept you from completely sumbitting to Sanghyuk?

When you stopped kissing, you’d expect yourself so sit up, away from laying on Youngbin, but you did the opposite. Youngbin was looking at you lovingly, but still worried. You kissed him again, more passionately this time, showing him you really trust him. He of course kissed back, to deepen the kiss he brought you closer to him.

He pulled away giving you one of his smiles.

„I’m sorry to break this moment, but we’ll get sick If we keep laying there“ you nodded when you realized you were still on the beach late at night. You got up, cleaning yourself of sand as well as Youngbin did the same.

„Tell me your car is close“ Youngbin chuckled at your comment.

„Lucky for you, your car is right here“ he pointed at himself. You raised an eyebrow, it sounded way too dirty, but you stayed quiet since you didn’t want to ruin the mood.

„What? You don’t want a ride?“ he smiled innocently. Your eyebrow was still raised.

„I’ll gladly ride you then“ his eyes darkened after your reply. Well Kim Youngbin I can play too.

„Careful what you wish for“ he pointed out. You smiled at him innocently as you jumped on his back for a ‚ride‘.

He was carrying you all the way to where his car was. Throughout the so called ride you were hugging him tightly.

When you reached his car, he let you stand and wait until he unlocked it so you could climb inside.

„But I don’t want to go back there“ you looked at him with sad eyes.

„I know, don’t worry we’ll go somewhere else“ he smiled. You took a ride throught the city and stopped near plain field and hills? It was too dark for you to indetify where you were, but everything was better than going back to dorms and see Sanghyuk’s asshole face. Youngbin found a nice place where to park  and from where you can actually see the night city. You stayed in the car as it was cold outside and what would be the point of leaving your previous place, because it was cold just to get to another place and go outside, right?

You were sitting in silence, but it was a peaceful silence.

„Thank you“ you spoke up and smiled at him.

„What for?“ he smiled back.

„For respecting me and letting me trust you“ he was touched by your kind words and wanted to show you how much he respected and loved you.

„Show me how much you love me“ You almost choked on what you just said. It wasn’t meant to be said out loud.

„Are you sure? I don’t want to hurt you“ you nodded. A confirmation was enough for him to continue. His eyes changed from worried and unsure to loving. He leaned in to kiss you. You climbed over to him and sat on his lap, never breaking the kiss. Youngbin’s hands were carefully traveling all over your body. His kisses were passionate and deep. You’ve never felt such kisses before, before all your kisses were forced as well as everything you were about to do with Youngbin. You’ve never felt real love in any aspect, you were ready and wanted to experience it at least once.

You broke the kiss, stared into his eyes and kissing him again. At this point no words were needed. Your hands sneaked under his hoodie and shirt, feeling his toned body. Youngbin’s hands were under you shirt too. His hands were almost everywhere they could reach. You moaned into the kiss which made him turned on, you could tell how hard he got under you.

You couldn't help but grind yourself on his lap, earning a moan from him. His hands rested on your hips, guiding them as you were still moving them over his covered member.

"We should move this to the back" he said between kisses. You got off him and move yourself on the backseat as there was more place. After climbing over himself, he attacked your lips again so did his hands your body. You moaned into the kiss, earning a smirk from Youngbin. His lips traveled all the way to your neck and collarbone, leaving marks everywhere his lips touched you. You bucked up your hips to meet his sadly still clothed dick. This time it was his time to moan.

“Please it’s too cold for this, just take me” you half pouted half moaned. Youngbin’s smirk grew wider signalling to you that he understands. He stripped you off your pants and panties in one motion. When you wanted to do the same to him, he grabbed your wrists and pinned them over your head.

He chuckled "Next time sweetheart" While pinning your hands with one hand, he stripped himself with the same motion he did to you. It was impressive honestly how he managed to do all that with one hand. Youngbin kissed you while he entered you slowly, letting you adjust to him. The sudden friction made you moan into the kiss and Youngbin was loving it.

His hips started to move, thrusts slow but deep hitting all the right spots. You were still restricted from moving, but wanted to be as close to him as possible. If it was even possible to be honest. Your legs sneaked around his waist, keeping his hips where they should be.

His both kisses and thrust were becoming sloppier, even his hand left your wrists so he could support himself and not falling on you. His growls turned into low moans, mixing them with you own higher ones.

Youngbin felt your walls clenching around him which meant you were close and he knew it. That made him go a bit faster, coming right after you did. He gave you a few more thrusts, but keeping still inside yourself.

"Y/N, I'm sorry...I promise you none of this will end up the same as before, I love you" he kissed you.

"I love you too Youngbin"

"..and Thank You"

The End.