#and taking a couple of scoots back before taking off in the opposite direction

[hypewinter]

Quick idea before I collapse into the sweet embrace of sleep.

Danny (running on two hours of sleep for the week) stumbled into Tim's apartment by accident. He looks around at the case files strewn about and the mountains of empty red bull cans, ramen cups, and coffee mugs before turning to Tim who's mid sip hunched over his computer.

Danny: Damn bitch, you live like this?

Danny: *proceeds to collapse of exhaustion*

Tim who just got shamed by some rando in his own home and is highly insulted: ...wtf

[sabokunsmalia]

ʚ 𝗔 𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗧𝗟𝗘 𝗗𝗥𝗔𝗕𝗕𝗟𝗘 ɞ | trafalgar d. law inking you his tattoo.

𝖋𝖊𝖆𝖙𝖚𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌: trafalgar d. law & fem!reader 𝖈𝖔𝖓𝖙𝖊𝖓𝖙 𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌: nsfw content (mdni), implied smut, naked breasts, staring which comes off a little perv 𝖍𝖎 𝖎'𝖒 𝖒𝖆𝖑𝖎𝖆: so, i have tattoos, and i would let law give me one any given second of the day. here i thought about getting law's death tattoos those past days haha. so, i placed it around the collarbones and the last little peak of the heart would be in the valley of the breasts.

seated patiently on one of the stools in law's office, you started to pull the fabric of the thin shirt over your heart. trafalgar law's back was turned in your direction as he prepared the last lines of the template for the tattoo. a design, you wished for badly and one, he knew how to draw perfectly. when he walked around the polar tong with his coat opened, presenting the ink that covered his tanned and toned body, you almost felt a pinch of jealousy. finding out, a couple of weeks later, that he was the one who literally drew them and decorated the different parts of his body as well, you immediately asked him for one.

what law not expected when he agreed, was the very uncommon position and that you wanted a replica of what he wore on his chest. the heart with the smiling face of his jolly roger in the middle. "do you want me to remove my bra too?" you asked, so innocently, making the situation worse. seated on the stool, in the middle of his office room, waiting for him to touch your soft skin around your breasts while inking his tattoo into you, it caused feelings in law. feelings, he could not understand. "guess so, or it won't stretch out towards your collarbones,"

"oh but i want it to be really wide and end in the valley between my boobs," you stated, showing the directions and placements with your fingers while the doctor forced himself to not look at your longer than a second. any gaze, which lingered too long on your exposed breasts, the hardened buds due to the temperature change under the deck, he would lose himself. not completely but painfully slow until giving in to the sweet desire of ravishing you. "alright," he held the template between his slender fingers, turning around and walking towards you.

and hell, you looked even better undressed than the drawings in his thoughts could ever create. sweet curves, smooth skin, and that cursed smile of yours, which cast a spell over his being all the time. "let's get started, this will take a couple of hours to finish." law took a seat opposite of you, holding up the thin piece of paper in front of your chest, and hesitating. he hesitated to touch your skin in such inappropriate places, and inhaled deeply. " can you like, place it yourself with the help of the mirror over there?"

eyes hidden underneath the mess of black strands and the brim of his beloved, white hat. the shadows casted over the upper half of his face saved the stoic captain from being seen with a tint of crimson red across the span of his cheeks. the situation made it difficult to think straight, or at least focus on the main reason behind being in such a scene. “why? is something wrong?” you questioned a second later, innocence written across your face and sweetness twisted in your features.

as if your naked chest wasn’t enough to push him closer to overstepping the set boundary, your glances and naive behavior became torture. those sweet, dilated doe eyes awakened an unexplainable instinct in the captain. something that increased his primal desire of wanting to touch her, and blemish her soft skin. “it’s nothing,” law commented, holding the template towards her.

“i think it’s better if you place it, i don’t want to do anything wrong,” you admitted, shaking your head carefully and pressing your chest further forward. an allowance to touch her breasts without having to say a word. “shit,” law muttered underneath a deeply frustrated groan before scooting closed. eyes at the same height as her hardened buds, his mouth watered at the sight.

carefully, he placed the tip of the heart between her breasts, fingertips pressing the template against her soft skin. it didn’t bother him, the worst part was how his hands wandered across the swell of her breasts and along her collarbone, making sure the thin paper with the most important outlines was sticking to her skin. “your touch is so soft,” you muttered, focused on how carefully and slowly his tattooed fingers moved around her chest, always avoiding go touch her breasts directly.

what you couldn’t see, was how trafalgar law inhaled and exhaled deep breaths, attempting to keep them steady enough to get through the session without ravishing you completely. afterwards he couldn’t promise did anything.

[gluechugger]

Low Honor! Arthur Morgan and my OC Louise only meet when they’ve both left this mortal coil.

✨🌑✨🌑✨🌑✨🌑✨🌑✨🌑✨🌑✨

Based on the idea for this drawing (I wanted more) and my two favorite comics; Falling in Love on the Path to Hell and Love Everlasting. I like cowboys and romance and time loops a lot.

I ended up writing something for this. Maybe I’ll write more. We’ll see. CW for mention domestic violence, drug use and the implication of cheating. 917 words.

This time Louise and Arthur are really the worst versions of themselves. No redeeming qualities.

✨🌑✨🌑✨🌑✨🌑✨🌑✨🌑✨🌑✨

It was late night when he heard her footsteps in the woods. From her unsure step, he assumed she wasn’t a threat, but his palm rested on the firearm on his hip. He stayed quiet. He knew she could already see him. No use opening his mouth. No such thing as too careful.

“Excuse me?” She spoke first, not yet having stepped into the clearing. “Excuse me, mister,” she continued, Arthur shifted his direction from the fire to meet her. She stumbled into the clearing, holding up her skirt and examining the mud on her spats. “Do you think you could help me? I got separated from my husband.”

He furrowed his brow at her, judging her choice of attire and ignoring her question. “Why you wearin that?” She had on an evening gown. Her shoulders were exposed. He noticed damage on her dress, blood stained the front lace, turning the celadon of the garment into a sick brown. It appeared her throat had been slit. The hem of the garment was tattered and dirtied with mud. Arthur knew who she was even if he’d never met her in his waking life.

“I, uh…. I can’t remember.” She muttered, pushing her curly blonde bangs out of her eyes. The curl was wilting from the humidity. “Could I just take a seat for a while?” She sounded exhausted. Arthur could tell why that could be. She didn’t wait for an answer from him before she plopped down next to him. Too close for comfort.

“Well, damn. I guess it’s alright.” He grunted and scooted away from her. The two of them were sitting on the trunk of a downed tree. It made a decent bench by the campfire.

She looked back on him in surprise. “Do I stink?” She had a thick New England accent. Arthur wondered how long she’d been married.

“I may have known of your husband? Can’t say ‘less you tell me who he is.” He kept his voice low, like it was a threat.

She looked rightfully wary. It gave Arthur a jolt of excitement he knew wasn’t healthy. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.” She urged, finally looking down to see the blood on her dress. “Oh heavens…”

“Looks like you got in a little scrape.” He joked, trying to keep the atmosphere calm for his own benefit.

“I can’t remember.” Her chest heaved. Arthur didn’t take his eyes off her breasts. He watched her cope with the implosion of her very existence. There had been no question in his case. Louise barely knew what happened to her. From the circles under her eyes, he could only presume her husband had been administering her laudanum, likely leading to her confusion in the events leading up to her death.

“You’re alright.” Arthur urged, as he started to become a little worried she might hyperventilate and pass out into the fire. “Deep breaths, girl.” He knew his voice wasn’t comforting and it made his guts twist when the opposite of the desired effect happened. She stood up and stumbled forward.

Arthur was quick behind her, grabbing her waist and pulling her back into his chest. “Hey.” He mumbled against her hair. “I know it’s scary. But Dutch ain’t here no more.” She spun around and wrapped her arms around him and buried her face into his chest.

“You smell like him.” She whispered. A conflict inside of Arthur started to build. This was something he’d never have considered in his waking life. It was true that Dutch wasn’t the best at keeping women. On occasion, Arthur had refused advances from the likes of Annabelle and Molly just to name a couple. He especially didn’t like being compared to Dutch. He resisted the inherent urge to push her away. She felt too nice in his arms.

Instead of shoving her against the tree trunk, Arthur let out a grunt of displeasure as his response.

She wept against him and he gently drew his fingers along her back. It took her a few moments before she was able to process what he’d said. “Wait, did you say you… you knew him?”

At this point, Arthur had relished in the warmth of another person a bit too long. He was forced to consider her words over the ringing in his ears. “Yes, baby—“ he was slurring his words. They felt like mud in his mouth. “I mean uh, yes ma’am.” He responded, catching himself. She didn’t seem to notice his slip up. Maybe she didn’t care. He felt dizzy.

She looked up at him and he made direct eye contact with her for the first time that night. Her eyes were light, even in the dark forest. They reminded him of uranium glass. “Is he gone?” She still wept, her eyes were wet and full of despair.

“He ain’t here.” Arthur confirmed, trying to keep his jaw tight. He knew it would sound vague, but he couldn’t bring himself to be the bearer of bad news. He had to let her figure it out on her own. The distress on her face didn’t falter. “What uh, what should I call you?” Maybe she was just an apparition. Maybe this really was hell. Either way, Arthur felt like he was taking psychic damage from her.

“Louise.” She answered. He hadn’t noticed her hands reaching up from his chest to his shoulders and wrapping around his neck. She was just as crazy as Dutch. No wonder they’d married.

((Omg I debated the choice of “baby” for so long but “darlin’” is way too sweet and comforting. This Arthur is a scumbag.))

[writernotyetauthor]

Can this Hetalia character Roller Skate 🛼

Italy: Yes, he’s pretty good. Will offer to hold someone’s hand if they’re having trouble and loves to flirt with other people on the rink. 

Germany: He won’t fall down very often but he’s stiff as a board, won’t bend his knees. Mostly relies on getting pushed or pulled in the right direction and must often accept Italy’s hand for help. Falls on his ass a couple times. 

Japan: Yes and he’s surprisingly fast. Brings his own skates to the rink and enjoys listening to the music and zipping circles around the others. 

America: This mf LOVES roller skating. He doesn’t do it as often as other sports but he’s been skating since at least the 1910s. Always says he’s gonna try out for a roller derby team but never does. 

England: No and he will not try. He used to skate a little before the 20th century but the wars fucked up his legs and his balance. Tried once in the 80s and fell on his face in front of a dozen punk youths. Never again. Refused to use a walker. He will watch people skate from the bench with his skates on and refuses to get in the rink. 

France: Same as England mostly, he prefers ice skating. He’ll sit on the bench and talk instead of skate. Can be convinced to do a light lap or two around the rink but he MUST be holding someone’s hand. 

China: Yes, he can skate decently but he can’t make himself stop, he has to let friction slow him down. Often gets stuck and has to scoot out of the rink when he gets tired. 

Russia: Also prefers ice skating but can’t quite figure out how to translate ice skating skills into roller skates. Grips the wall the entire time and can’t manage to keep his legs under him. Falls on his ass once and leaves the rink to get food. 

Canada: Hell yes, he loves some roller skating. Ice skating and hockey will always be his true love but roller skating has been a hobby he and his brother could bond over for decades. He and America will sometimes race around the rink and attempt to not run into people. 

Prussia: Oh god. This motherfucker is so fucking bad at skating but he doesn’t care. He will full throttle shoot himself across a rink, slam headfirst into the opposite wall, and fall back on the ground and act like he’s the greatest skater alive. He loves it so much and he WILL do it again two minutes later. He can’t break, he can barely turn, and if there’s someone he doesn’t like directly in his way he WILL take them down with him. If given a walker he will use it to hit the wall even faster. It gives Germany a heart attack every time he hears his quasi-mortal brother thud on the ground but as long as he’s breathing and gets up soon enough he lets him have his fun. Will go until he’s completely winded and has to be pushed off the rink. 

Romano: Yes! Started roller skating back when he worked at America’s house in the 20s and has tried to keep it up as a hobby but he’s a little rusty. Is a pro at stepping around Prussia’s fallen body. 

Hungary: Yep yep. Hasn’t done it as much in recent years but absolutely adored roller skating in the late 19th-early 20th century. Joined a roller derby in the interwar years and absolutely fucking loved it. Wants to join another but hasn’t had the free time. She and Prussia will occasionally try to push each other down while skating, though she succeeds in staying up more often than he does. 

Austria: Much like France & England, he needs to hold someone’s hand or he psyches himself out. The hand is often Hungary’s. Will often trip and fall. Prussia tries to knock him down too but they’re both so terrible at turning they usually just fly past each other. Usually resorts to using one of the walkers. 

Lithuania: Like Romano he started skating back when he worked at America’s house in the 20s. He enjoys it but he is a bit rusty. Takes photos of Prussia wiped out on the floor and posts them on social media with a caption equivalent to “Common Prussia L”. They try to push each other down but it often results in both of them wiping out. He usually tries to fall forward rather than backward because his back is still very fucked up. 

Belarus: With a long background in ice skating, she prefers in-line roller skates. Prefers to skate alone and watch others fall over but she will help them back up. 

Ukraine: Has an impressive collection of roller derby trophies in her room. Loves the social aspect of skating at a rink and gets dressed up to go with friends when she can. 

Poland: Acts like he’s better at roller skating then he really is, needs to hold the wall for a while but can eventually scoot off by himself.  

[b-ritney]

The Way You Make Me Feel

Summary: You and Eddie have been pulled in so many different directions the last couple of months, you become inexorably overwhelmed when you feel him for the first time in ages.

Warnings: SMUT +18, crying (but in the best way), praise, soft eddie, strong description of overwhelmed reader, (her symptoms are caused by anxiety but that is not explicitly mentioned.) Touched starved, deeply in love couple, oral female receiving. plz lemme know if i missed any.

~~~~~~~~~

"Love you." he kisses your shoulder lightly, rolling over on his side. This has been the ending of every night for the last forever as it seems; with both of you busy with work, school, and whatever else comes up, you haven't really had a chance to talk let alone touch each other in weeks. In fact you barely even SEE each other, one of you leaves before the other wakes up, and the other gets home after one of you is already in bed. It's a revolving cycle driving both of you slowly insane.

You almost had a chance the other day when your classes got pushed back two hours because of bad weather, and Eddie hadn't left for the auto body shop yet. You waited patiently in your room pacing back and forth while he showered, when the door finally opened and he walked out the shock of you still being there froze him in place. Without saying a word he picked you up quick, kissing you feverishly, relishing in the feeling of touching you again... he almost had your shirt off when the phone started ringing. He frustratingly yanked your shirt back down and walked over to the landline,

"Hello?.... now?.... can it wait at least an hour?....can someone else take care of it?..... yeah, it's fine man I'll be there in 20."

~~~~~~

Turns out, Eddie was rewarded for coming in early that day, he was given the entire weekend off, he even told the boys in Corroded Coffin that he needed the weekend to "come up with some new material." You luckily had enough PTO to burn so you called out of work, your leg immediately started shaking with excitement when you hung up the phone with your manager.

~~~~~~

When Friday rolled around you had spent the afternoon running like crazy around the house cleaning and shaving and cooking and lighting candles, you must've spent an hour on the floor picking through mixtapes to find the perfect one to have on when he got home. Everything was perfect the table was set the music was on the bed was made, when he walked in you hung around his neck jumping up and down happily and guiding him to the kitchen, "Hi baby!" he said kissing the top of your head.

"I made dinner."

"Wow sweetheart this is great, thank you." he gave you one more quick peck, before taking his seat at the table, opposite you. It was silent for a second as you patiently waited for him to take a bite... the quicker he ate the quicker you could jump him. He looked at you funny, feeling your burning stare. "You okay?" he asked smiling, he knew exactly what was wrong.

"I'm good.. you?" you asked tossing around the contents of your plate.

"I'm great.. lonely over here though... come sit next to me." you practically frisbee your plate across the table. Walking over to sit next to him, he watches the whole time, a big ass knowing smile plastered to his face. Once you're seated, he decides you're not close enough and grabs the leg of the chair scooting you closer. You squeal as the chair jolts towards him. You slam your fists on the table,

"Your a big fuckin' tease you know that?" you laugh, though the desperation is visible in your eyes. He shoves his chair away from the table and spins yours around, holding you by the waist to lift you onto the table,

"I'm sorry sweetheart," he says pushing the plates to the other end of the table.

"Eddie what about dinner?" your voice as sweet as pure sugar.

"I want dessert first," he whispers in your ear. Yanking you to the edge forcing your upper half to lie down on the table,

"Damn, that was a good one." you laughed

"You liked that?" he smiled, pulling your panties down your legs. He pulled his chair back up from between his legs and sat down putting your legs over his shoulders. He didn't waste any more time, you'd both waited too long for this, he licked a long agonizing stripe up your pussy, and rubbed up your thighs to keep your nerves low. You and Eddie had always been good at sex but this was something straight out of a porno, he felt like he kept on getting deeper, licking, sucking your pussy like a melting popsicle in the summer heat. You couldn't contain the noises he was drawing out of you at every pass of his tongue, it was like you'd been edged for months. He stopped only for a second so he could watch himself sink two long fingers inside your dripping center, then he quickly buried his face between your legs making you shudder and gasp for air.

"Eddieeee, it's so fucking good." you heaved just barely holding on, "please don't stop." He kept up the pace, as you gripped onto his curls, you were so blissed out you couldn't even recognize the song that was playing now, but you sure as hell did when he started humming along directly on top of your clit. You whimpered at the new sensation, "I'm gonna cum pleassse baby."

"Come on, don't hold back." That was all you needed, your back arched off the table as he continued to fuck into you with one hand and hold you down with the other. Stars rained down behind your eyes as Eddie pulled you up by the front of your shirt, licking into your mouth, he picked you up wrapping your legs around his waist, like your light as air, and ran to the bedroom.

He danced around like a crazy person when he finally got to take your shirt off, he nuzzled between your breast for a moment holding onto your sides as you hugged him. You reached down to rub over his jeans, making him tense up, "Eddie, I wanna make you feel good."

He held onto your wrist and pinned it to your side, "Maybe next time sweetheart, but I've gotta have you now before I explode." he smiled leaning in and kissing you hard, "What if it hurts? It's been so long.." you said nervously. He trailed kisses across your chest and shoulders, as he undid his belt and pushed his pants down. "I promise I'll be gentle princess, but be also don't have to-"

"NO, Eddie we have to." he laughed at your outburst.

"Ok ok! well we can at least make it more comfortable." he shoved you backward, taking his shirt off, he leaned out of your view for a moment grabbing a bottle of lube from a drawer in his bedside table. He flipped the lid open with a pop the sound making you jump, he leaned down and kissed your knees before holding them and spreading them apart. He dripped the liquid all over your pussy, the cool sensation forcing you to close your legs, "ah ah hey-... sweetheart what's wrong?" Your shoulders were shaking as tears ran down your face.

"N-Nothing I promise..." you wipe your eyes, but the tears still come, " I just need you so bad."

"Oh baby, it's ok, I'm right here," he leans down and kisses you, rubbing the head of his cock between your folds, that feeling alone making you buck up toward him.

"please," your voice breaks, making Eddie lose his mind.

"Tell me if it hurts ok?" you nod vigorously holding onto his bicep.

When he finally pushes in the weight of the last few weeks just fades away. The feeling still burnt, but it was a welcome stretch because it meant you were finally as close as you could be. He got in your ear and whispered all the praise he could to make you feel good. You cried into his shoulder while he lifted up your leg to wrap around his waist. "Eddie." you whimpered.

"I'm right here baby, it's ok, you're alright."

"I love you so much," you said shakily, as he rolled his hips slowly back and forth.

"I love you too." he said kissing your neck. He kept going until your legs started to shake, "you close?" you whined in response throwing your head back into the covers.

"So close." He reached down and started rubbing fast circles on your clit making you whimper and arch into his chest. "I'm right there with you baby, you can do it," when it happened you felt like you were floating, you couldn't hear anything or feel anything but the white-hot pleasure taking over your entire body. When you came to, Eddie had on sweatpants the music was off, and he was wiping your legs with a washcloth, "there's my girl." he reached up and brushed the hair from your face, kissing you on the forehead. He pressed the washcloth firmly against your heat causing you to close your legs around his hand, "'s too much I can't." he gently parted them again,

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm almost done." He threw the cloth in the laundry hamper and sat you up on the edge of the bed. You rubbed your eyes and stretched, "tired?"

"a little, hungry though," you said as he slipped a sweatshirt over your head. He chuckled a little,

"yeah, I ruined dinner didn't I?" he got on one knee and slipped some fresh underwear up your legs. He pulled them up as he stood to be at eye level with you.

"No, it was perfect," you said wrapping your arms around his neck and leaning in for a languid kiss. You both pulled back and looked down when your stomach grumbled, he turned around and hauled you onto his back,

"Come on let's go get you fed." He sat you down right next to him at the table, draping your leg over his. You spent the rest of the night catching up on your lives and kissing until you both ended up tangled together asleep on the couch, as the credits rolled to your favorite movie.

~~~~~~~

omg a healthy relationship gross BAHAHAHA jk jk

I'm personally disgusted with myself for being so horny about this lmao

[kaunis-sielu]

Payment: End

You hear his voice. It takes a second for it to process that Steve is awake and talking but when you do your eyes fly open.

“Steve.” You breathe, looking up at him with wide eyes.

“Hey Baby.”

“Oh my god.” Tears fill your eyes, it’s so so nice to hear his voice again.

“Don’t cry. Please don’t cry. I’m okay, they’re taking Lance off the ventilator too.” You can’t help the tears pouring down your face. Steve takes a couple of minutes to just hold you and press a few kisses to the top of your head.

It’s not until the door opens that you move, Bucky comes into the hospital room.

“I need to talk to Stark.” Steve tells him.

“You need to rest.” You argue as the door swings open again and Tony strolls in.

“Thought I heard your voice Rogers.” He says with a grin,

“Tony. Good, I need-,”

“To listen to your wife. Besides, she’s a badass and took out the entire Hydra empire in about twelve hours.” Steve looks over at you with shock on his face.

“Well, I was pissed.” You tell him with a little shrug and Steve laughs before pressing a kiss to your lips.

“So, Queenie, now that you’re the head of Hydra and you’ve pretty much burned it to the ground what’s the plan?” Tony asks.

“Honestly, I hadn’t thought that far ahead.” You admit, “did you guys have a deal in place?”

“Yea, but we’re not the ones that killed the head and the heir.” Tony says nonchalantly as he pulls up a chair to sit at the opposite side of Steve’s bed. Steve glances down at you in concern,

“Bucky why did you let her kill them?”

“Let her?” Bucky asks with an astonished laugh, “I didn’t let her do shit. And she didn’t kill the heir he died first from Daisy.”

“He was hers to kill. He took over her company when they got together and I wanted to give it back.”

“You shouldn’t have had to kill anyone Honey.” Steve murmurs, his eyes soft when they meet yours.

“If I didn’t I wouldn’t be the head of Hydra.” You point out and he hums softly,

“I still don’t like that you had to get your hands dirty.”

“I’m fine.” You promise him and he kisses you softly.

“Okay, now that we know that she’s fine can we get back to business?” Stark asks sounding bored.

“Sorry Tony, was my near death experience not entertaining for you?”

“I’d just like to get home to my own wife. Let her know that everything is okay so we can go off of lockdown.”

“Alright, so Sweetheart?” Steve says and you look up at him, “Let’s sit up a bit more.” You scoot away from the head of the bed and Steve uses the remote to lift the head of the bed into a fully sitting position. You cuddle back into him once he’s got it adjusted to his comfort level, Steve takes a breath to start talking when the door opens and your least favorite of his nurses comes stalking into the room.

“Mrs. Rogers! I told you that if I caught you on his bed again that I’d have to have you removed.”

“I’d love to see you try.” Steve growls and the nurse scowls at him. “She stays right where she is or I’m leaving.”

“You can’t leave.”

“Watch me.” Steve snaps and you give his hand a gentle squeeze.

“Steve, let’s just get this over with so we can go home.” You tell him but when you go to get off of the bed he holds tightly to you.

“She can work around you Baby. I’m not letting you go.” He says before pressing a kiss to your cheek. The nurse checks his vitals on the machine then pages for the doctor to come and listen to his lungs. She leaves with another scowl in your direction.

“You’re going to get us into trouble.” You tell Steve with a small laugh but he just shrugs. “Do whatever the plan was before with Hydra’s resources. I don’t want them, I don’t want anything from them.”

“Okay, Tony you want to handle the press release?” Steve asks and Bucky says,

“We make it look like a car accident.”

“But I shot them.” You tell them with a furrowed brow, “There’ll be a gun shot wound.”

“Queenie, this isn’t our first rodeo.” Bucky interrupts with a little smile, and you suppose that it isn’t.

“Right.” Steve presses a kiss to the side of your head and you tuck your face into his chest. You let him and Tony iron out the details, you don’t really care what happens to your family business, you don’t want any of their blood money but you also don’t want anyone else to be able to rebuild what you’ve destroyed by killing your father.

“Is that okay with you Sweetheart?” Steve says pulling you out of your thoughts.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t listening.”

“We want you to take the legit business, then Tony and I will take over the less, legit parts.”

“I don’t know how to run a business.”

“I’ll help you.”

“Okay, what if I just sell it to you?”

“I don’t want to give the government any reasons to look too far into my business. You’re the natural successor and you’ll do amazingly. I promise.” He soothes and you take a steadying breath before you nod. You’ll figure it out, you always have.

Tony leaves then, he gets his press person, a woman he calls Friday, to do the press release that both you and Steve are fine after the tragic fire at your house. It’s not being called an arson so you’re fairly confident that some money greased some hands.

You report your father and Grant missing after three days, you give the police the excuse that you’d been too distracted by the fire and Steve’s time in the hospital to realize that he and Grant are missing. You do a press release too, asking for anyone who may have seen either man to come forward.

Unsurprisingly, no one does.

Steve had been released from the hospital with a clean bill of health on the day he’d woken. You hadn’t let him do much, worried that he might overexert himself or something.

“I’m so sorry Steve.” You tell him looking at the ruins of the home he’d welcomed you into.

“This isn’t your fault.” He assures you but it sure feels like it is. “Honey, you didn’t ask for any of this. This attack on me would’ve come sooner or later, I’ve been a threat for a while.”

“What can I do to pay you back for all of this? I feel like I owe you.”

“You don’t owe me anything.” Steve says and you knew this was going to be his answer so you level him with a look, “Alright, alright.If you won’t take that, how about this. How about you marry me?”

“That’s it? You just want to get married?”

“For real Baby. Not to protect you from your father, or your bother, but because I wanna be married to you. Because I want to love you for the rest of my life.” You stare at him, god he’s just the sexiest man alive.

“Yes.” You say, “I’m going to let it slide that you’re not down on one knee because you almost died a few days ago.” You tease him and he laughs,

“Thank you Darlin’.” He wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you as close to him as he can possibly get you before kissing you soundly. You bury your fingers into his hair as you kiss him.

You’re going to spend the rest of your life with him. You didn’t think that you could ever be this happy, when you’d agreed to marry him you’d assumed that you were marrying a cold man, one that was like your father and would only use you for his own gain. You never thought that you could be so lucky, to actually love the man that you were married to. You’ll rebuild the home that you fell in love in. You’ll fix your father’s shipping company into something that you can eventually merge with Nomad airlines and you’ll get married. Legit this time, not because you have to. You’ll live a long and happy life with Steve and you cannot wait.

Tag list:

@andahugaroundtheneck @connie326 @also-fangirlinsweden @lumar014 @loving-life-my-way @pagina16ps @emdying @dumblani @valsworldofcreativity @blackwidownat2814 @sky0401 @dontbescaredtosingalong @abschaffer2 @patzammit @inkedaztec @newdaynewyearnewlife @sophham @sass-masterkittenmama @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory

[winterspiderpurrs]

can you write where its post endgame and Peter met Steve and Bucky properly and Peter still has a slight grudge on him when he found out what happened in Siberia but Steve already knew he has a grudge on him and apologize to Peter and Peter also apologizes saying its both of their fault ( Tony and Steve ) and yada yada yada you can add whatever you want at the end since i have class GTG

Steve hesitated outside of door of the dinner. Bucky butted his shoulder against his and when he looked at him he nodded. Gathering up the courage to push open the doors of the dinner. His eyes sweeping through the mostly empty place, one person at the bar, and there he was in the back corner.

When he ran into Spiderman a few weeks back, received a cold shoulder but there was a willingness to meet up. They wouldn't be working together often but wanted to make sure he knew that he could depend on them if needed. Though based on the frown on the young face he probably should of warned him he was going to bring Bucky.

Sliding in the booth first so Bucky could sit on the outside ofnthe booth.

" Thanks for being able to meet up with me."

Peter nods and glances around. Thankfully the dinner isn't crowded course its also 2am but its New York.

" I see you brought backup"

Bucky shifts a little in his seat before flipping pages on the menu that was layed out on the table.

" Yes, sorry about not warning you"

" Don't worry, I brought my own too. Its fair"

Steve blinks and looked over his shoulder. All he saw was a man at the bar sipping a drink, eating pie. Nothing odd stood out to him other then the red glasses he was wearing. Seem to be minding his own business. Papers infront of him. And the older waitress who was currently standing out back of the place smoking with the only cook on duty.

Steve turns back to look at Peter. " Listen son. I know that there is tension between us. And I know its because of Tony.... but you have to know and you can talk to Pepper. We hashed it out during the.... lost years"

Bucky glances up at Steve then and then at Peter.

Peter takes a deep breath.

" I know I've talk to Happy...and I can forgive and understand the situation. But it's not easy. But I can't forgive you hurting him with the shield. Not yet atleast. You haven't earned it."

Steve opens his mouth to say something but Bucky cuts him off.

" I'm sorry to have caused all this... never got the chance to truly apologize for it."

Peter glances between the two before nodding as at Bucky.

" I can't accept your apology"

Bucky glances down at the table, he was used to this part. Could even feel Steve about to get worked up about this. He knew he shouldn't of join, should of just stayed outside.

" We were taught forgiveness as we have free will to do wrong and we need to be able to accept that we need to... repent. But Bucky... I can't accept your apology not because I don't want to... its because there is nothing to forgive..."

Peter sighs and looks down at his now empty mug.

" Hydra took your will away. The Winter Soldier is the one who committed those crimes... not you Bucky."

Bucky stares over at Peter, his eyes stinging a little.

" But I forgive the winter soldier too... he didn't know what he was doing... even if you remember everything... every horrible thing... he wasn't you and he didn't have free will either..."

" You have Nothing to be sorry for..."

Peter scoots over the seat of the booth to get out of it to stand. He tosses a couple dollar bills on the table top.

" I'll call if I need help... and you know how to reach me if you need me." He hesitated for a moment " Queens has a good synagogue if you need to escape a bit Bucky. I go atleast once a month...." and with that he walks out.

And Steve and Bucky sit there in silence for a while before they, too, got up to leave. So lost in their thoughts, they never noticed the man at the bar pull out a white blind stick after he packed up his paperwork and left in the opposite direction.

[pan-fangirl-345]

For You, And You, And You

Summary: As if falling in love with three people who are already in a relationship isn't bad enough, you start coughing up flowers a few months after you figure it out. Now you have a decision to make, but you don't think it's really much of a decision anymore.

TW: Blood, vomit, unrequited love (not really unrequited), angst, hurt (there is comfort!), swearing, mentions of overstimulation (not the s*xy kind), and mentions of panic attacks. These sound bad, but there is a happy ending, I promise.

A/N: I know that I have other things that I need to be working on, but this has been running around my head all day and it seems like a good idea.

Side notes: Sign language usage, hard of hearing Bakugou, ADHD Kaminari

If I have forgotten anything, please let me know!

YOU WATCHED AS Bakugou corralled Kaminari and Kirishima towards his room so that they could study together, laughing when Kaminari threw you a look that practically screamed, 'SOS'.

"What are you laughin' at, Princess?" Bakugou snapped, glaring at you. "You're comin' with us!"

"All my homework is done," you informed him, glancing at them over the top of your book. "I don't need-"

"You're coming," Bakugou repeated, grabbing his blond boyfriend by the collar of his shirt when he tried to escape, practically dragging him.

You stood, knowing full well that Bakugou was not above dropping his boyfriends in his room and coming back for you the way he had for Kaminari.

"Fine," you grumbled, stretching with a sigh when multiple parts of your body cracked and popped. "Just let me grab my things."

Five minutes later you were leaning against the wall of Bakugou's room, right next to the door.

You were, according the Bakugou, guarding the door in case his boyfriends tried to escape for whatever reason, but you were pretty sure that he knew that you were sitting there so you could make a quick getaway.

You didn't mind studying with Bakugou and the boys, but it was awkward for you, given the circumstances.

Bakugou, Kirishima, and Kaminari had been dating since the break before your second year of high school. Halfway through second year and they had settled into a rhythm of sorts after many failed attempts and a lot of backtracking.

It wasn't their relationship that made you uncomfortable though, it was the fact that you spent so much time with them.

Normally, spending time with them would be an honor, but being in love with them made things complicated.

Especially when they seemed hellbent on spending as much time with you as possible.

You propped your book up on your knees, finding your spot before you pulled your headphones on.

They were low enough that you could still hear the boys talking, in case they needed to get a hold of you for some reason, but still loud enough that you could hear the beat and the lyrics.

Two taps on your shoulder had you looking up.

Bakugou tapped his ears twice.

It had been a code you had worked out.

Because of your quirk, you sometimes needed to keep your headphones on as training, and when they boys tapped you twice and then tapped their ears they were asking if you needed them on or if you could take them off.

Good thing about being friends with Bakugou was that he taught you sign language, so you had a way to communicate with the three of them if you needed to keep your headphones on.

"What's up?" you asked softly- just in case Kaminari was still sensitive- as you pulled your headphones down around your neck.

Kaminari had fried himself during training earlier that day, and his senses became sensitive after he regained himself, not that anyone had figured it out until recently because he refused to be any kind of burden.

"Can you help Dunce Face?"

"Always," you said, scooting over to see what Kaminari was working on, careful to avoid contact. "Hey, Kami, what do you need help with?"

When he pointed you in the right direction, you started working with him once you made sure Kirishima was understanding what he was working on too.

Bakugou tended to work by himself and then check on the others when he needed a break or once he was done with his own homework.

There were times when he would help them if they asked, but Kirishima and Kaminari were both stubborn and thought that they shouldn't need the help, so they tended to wait until Bakugou took a break.

It was one of the reasons Bakugou kept you around when they had these study sessions.

You were almost always available when they needed the help and he couldn't break his own concentration.

You checked on Kirishima once Kaminari was on track again.

He had been making leaps and bounds when it came to his classes after these study sessions had started being a regular thing. Kaminari had too, simply because Bakugou kept them on track and he was able to teach them in a way that they would remember and could understand.

They still weren't high in the class rankings because according to Kaminari and Kirishima, "Todoroki, Bakubabe, Midoriya, Iida, Momo, and you are all some kind of mutant geniuses," but they were doing better than Mineta and Aoyama were.

Bakugou had earbuds in, and he was nodding his head along softly to whatever he was listening to.

You had made a collaborative playlist with everyone in your class except for Mineta, and they always added their favorite songs, or ones they thought you might like to it occasionally.

You now had a playlist over 60 hours long, and you were constantly being surprised by who added what. Not only had it been a good way to get to know your classmates, it had also been a good way to irritated everyone when you blasted it through the dorms.

You had separate playlists with Tokoyami, Bakugou, Kirishima, Kaminari, Midoriya, Jirou, Mina, Uraraka, and Shinso.

They were the ones that listened to music the most, and their interests aligned with yours more than you thought they would.

Shinso, who was going to be replacing Mineta- much to everyone's relief- was someone you had come to know through Kaminari, and you had never regretted a thing.

Kaminari tapping on your shoulder brought you back to the present, and you turned your attention to him, explaining a concept he didn't quite understand yet.

Bakugou was at his desk, and Kaminari was spread over his boyfriend's bed, while Kirishima sat near the head of the bed, leaning against it as he worked.

When Bakugou stood from his desk with a stretch, you finished up your explanation, making sure Kaminari understood.

You scooted back over to your spot when Bakugou sat down near his boyfriends.

You shut your book, leaning your head back against the wall as you listened to one of your favorite songs.

When the song was over, you glanced at the boys.

They seemed fine, so you stood and exited while they were distracted.

You shut Bakugou's door quietly, heading for your own room.

A tickle in the back of your throat had you pausing to cough into your hand and clearing your throat a couple of times.

You knew that if Bakugou thought you were even the slightest bit sick he would kill you, and harshly nurse you back to health with a lot of yelling and cooking.

You really hoped it was just a small cough.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

NOT JUST A SMALL COUGH, you thought-panicked- as you stared at the three different flower petals in your hand.

Your cough had gotten worse over the last couple of weeks, but no one else seemed to have noticed, not even Bakugou, who was known for knowing when someone was sick even before they did.

You had heard of this.

Hanahaki, a disease born from unrequited love. A disease that would grow inside your lungs until a) you confessed and the feelings were reciprocated, b) you got the surgery that would take away the flowers and the feelings you had for the person(s), or c) you didn't get the surgery and the flowers slowly started to block your airway and injure your lungs and throat until you choked to death or died of malnutrition and dehydration from the damage to your throat.

A) seemed like the best option, but there was little chance of that happening.

You sighed, tucking the petals away in your suit pocket.

You knew you would have to tell someone about the problem soon, especially if they started to injure your lungs, which they likely would.

But for now, it would be your dirty little secret.

You had been going to the library after training, checking out books on flowers, trying to figure out what kind of flowers you were coughing up, since it might tell you who you were in love with.

You had a feeling, but you really hoped that you were wrong.

With further investigation, you found that you weren't wrong at all, quite the opposite in fact.

All three petals, despite being different colors were sunflower petals.

The red ones symbolized energy and passion, and while that one could have been for all of the boys, you knew that petal meant one of the people you were in love with was Bakugou.

Normally, people associated red with Kirishima, and while that was also true, you had a gut feeling that the red petals were for Bakugou.

The orange ones must have been for Kaminari then. They symbolized high spirits and happiness, and while Kaminari had his bad days, he could make you feel better even when he was having one of his bad days, and you loved him for it.

Which left the yellow ones for Kirishima. Goodness, truth, and endurance were definitely something you associated with Kirishima, and the brightness of the petal was a reminder as well.

You let out a shuddering sigh when the realization set in that you either had to confess and hope for the best, or get a surgery that would erase your love for them permanently.

"There you are Princess," Bakugou snarled softly and your jerked upright at the sight of all three of them standing there, looking worried.

"Hey, what's wrong?" you asked.

"You aren't in my room, for one thing," Bakugou said, eyes roving over your little workspace. "Taking an interest in botany?"

"Sort of," you said. "Someone's been leaving me flower petals, so I was wondering if there was a specific reason."

You had prepared the lie in case of something like this, you were just hoping that Bakugou bought it.

"Is that so?" he inquired, eyes sharp as they took you in.

Kaminari and Kirishima locked gazes over Bakugou's shoulder, some expression crossing both of their faces for a few moments before they went back to normal.

"So what are they?" Kaminari asked.

"Red, orange, and yellow sunflowers," you admitted.

You gave the boys a run-down of what they meant, but you noticed that Kirishima and Kaminari continued to share looks with each other, while Bakugou seemed to be scrutinizing your every move and word.

"I'm sorry that I missed your study session," you said after a few minutes.

"Don't worry about it," Kaminari said. "It's not like we're forcing you to go. We understand that you have other interests sometimes."

You noticed that he used the words 'we' and 'we're' and you wondered if that meant just him and Kirishima, or if that extended to Bakugou too.

"Still, I should have-"

"It's in the past," Bakugou interrupted. "Just make sure that you're at the next one."

"I promise I'll be there," you told them, smiling brightly, ignoring the urge to cough out more petals.

The amount of petals that you were coughing up continued to rise every week, and it was getting harder and harder to hide as time went on.

You knew that pretty soon, you would start coughing up full flowers instead of just petals, and that was what scared you the most.

You knew that you would have to go to the doctor soon, just to see how long you had before you were in serious danger, but you wanted to hold on for a little bit longer.

You wanted to hold onto the feeling of being with them for just a little while longer, before all that was left was the memory.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

YOU SHOULD HAVE ACCOUNTED for Aizawa though.

Despite his normally disinterested nature, he had grown attached to your class in the time he had you.

You may have been problem children, but your class were his problem children, and he had made a habit of checking in on all of you at least once a week.

"Who is it?" he asked as soon as you sat down across from him.

He had called you into an empty classroom, and you knew what he was asking as soon as he said it.

You pulled the petals out of your pocket- cleaned and pressed, because what were you, an animal?- and said, "Take a wild guess."

"I thought I raised you better than this, (Y/L/N). No loud blonds and no problem children, but two of those three are all both of those things, and the other might as well be!"

"I know, but the heart wants what it wants," you murmured, taking the petals back.

"What are you going to do?" he asked.

"I have a doctor's appointment on Monday, after class, so that I can see how long I have," you confessed. "After that, well, I guess the only option I have is to schedule the surgery. It's my best chance, even if it's gonna put me out of commission for a while, and there's a chance that it'll come back, everything considered."

"Have you tried telling them?" Aizawa asked.

"No," you admitted, shaking your head softly. "I don't want to burden them with this, and they want to be heroes, they would try to save me even though there's nothing they can do for me."

Aizawa nodded his understanding, but then sighed.

"In between your appointment and the surgery, if you need someone to talk to, Present Mic would be your best bet. He's gone through this before, and he's honestly better at talking with people about their feelings than I am."

"What happened?"

"In his scenario, he didn't need the surgery. I didn't need it in mine either."

Aizawa fished a ring on a chain out from under his capture scarf, and gave you a small smile.

You couldn't help the smile that spread across your own lips as you realized what this meant.

"I'm glad," you said honestly. "For the both of you."

"I want you to at least try to tell them," Aizawa said. "It couldn't hurt."

"I respect the hell out of you, Aizawa-sensei, and the same goes for Mic-sensei, but I'm going to have to say 'oh fuck no' to this one," you told him. "I really don't think that's a great idea."

"Well, I can't force you to do anything, but I really think that they at least deserve to know."

"I've started writing in journals," you admitted, pausing to cough petals into your hands before you continued. "I'll have someone give them out when before I get the surgery. Midoriya probably, he seems like the most trustworthy. Todoroki is another option. I want someone who isn't going to look through them."

Aizawa nodded, but he looked sad.

He laid his hand on your head, and it was comforting.

"I was hoping none of you would have this problem," he admitted softly. "I remember how horrible it was."

"I'm sorry."

"I'm just surprised that it was you, and a little disappointed."

"I'm sorry," you said again and Aizawa shook his head, removing his hand.

"You have nothing to apologize for, (Y/L/N), this kind of thing can never really be helped."

"I'm still sorry to have burdened you with this knowledge though. This kind of goes without saying, but . . . can you keep this on the downlow? I don't really want anyone fussing over it. The other teachers are fine, and they probably need to know, but I really don't want anyone other than that knowing."

"Are your parents aware of what's happening?" Aizawa asked.

"I told my mom, and she told Dad. He threatened to come, but I told him that it wouldn't do anything other than make things worse. They know about the appointment and the surgery since I'm a minor and I still need my parents for certain things regarding insurance and the like."

Aizawa nodded again, standing.

"You're free to go, and I promise to do what I can," he told you.

"Thank you Aizawa-sensi," you said, shaking the hand that he offered you.

"You don't have to thank me for this," Aizawa told you, looking for all the world like he would do anything to make the situation better.

"Still, thank you," you said.

He nodded, and you could feel his eyes on you as you walked away down the hall.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"I heard that you have a doctor's appointment later," Bakugou said when you walked into his room for the usual study session.

"Yeah, I've been feeling a little bit off lately, and I was need of a physical soon anyway," you said.

"Are you okay?" Kaminari asked, taking your face in his hands to look you over for a moment.

"Kami," you murmured, putting your hands on his. "I'm fine. Just weirdly achy, it's nothing, I promise."

"It's enough that you're going to the doctor," Kirishima argued.

"You boys worry too much," you teased.

Your heart clenched at the sight and knowledge that they were worried about you. They worried about everybody, but this was a new level that you had unlocked recently.

"You're getting paler, and you've been coughing a lot lately," Kaminari argued.

"And you're getting slower during training. You took a hit from Racoon Eyes that you should've been able to dodge," Bakugou chimed in.

Damn, they really must've been worried about you if Bakugou was joining in.

"It's a cold," you said, exasperated. "It'll be gone in a few weeks."

"But-"

"Drop it," you snarled.

Kirishima and Kaminari flinched, going quiet, but Bakugou's eyes narrowed and he took a step towards you.

"I'm sorry," you murmured, curling in on yourself, immediately regretting the outburst, "but you guys are making a huge thing out of nothing. So I haven't been feeling so hot lately, but there's not a lot you can do. Besides, like I said, I'll be fine in a few weeks. At the worst it's a virus that I have to fight off on my own."

Bakugou's eyes narrowed further, and you could still see the hurt behind Kaminari and Kirishima's eyes.

"I'm sorry I snapped at you," you told Kirishima and Kaminari. "I get bitchy when I don't feel great. That's not an excuse though. I shouldn't have taken it out on you. Come here."

Both boys moved to hug you, and you smiled at them.

"You want in Bakugou?" you asked when you noticed he was still watching you.

His face flushed pink and he snarled, "Not a fuckin' chance."

"Come on Bakubabe," Kirishima teased, opening his arms, and Kaminari followed suit.

"I have no idea why I'm in love with you fuckers," he muttered, but he walked over and let his boyfriends bring him into your little hugging circle.

"Thank you, guys, for being worried about me, but if there were something really wrong, I would let you know," you promised, hating the way the lie felt on your tongue and the way your eyes stung with unshed tears.

You let yourself soak in their warmth for a little while, tucking that feeling away, making yourself memorize the way it felt, before you let them go.

They weren't yours, you reminded yourself. They weren't your boyfriends, as much as you wished that they were.

"Let's get this show on the road," you told them, smiling brightly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Miss (Y/L/N)," the doctor said when he stepped into the room.

"That's me," you told him.

"So I understand that you're here because you've recently gotten Hanahaki, is that correct?"

"Yes."

"And, please correct me if I'm wrong," the doctor said with a wince, "but you've been coughing up three different colored petals?"

"Yes, one for color for one person," you agreed.

"Well, that's a problem," the doctor said, going over whatever was on his clipboard.

"Why?"

If this guy was going to be one of those assholes that had a problem with you loving more than one person, you were going to-

"When someone is coughing up flowers for more than one person, that dramatically decreases their time frame," the doctor said. "Loving one person means it's easier to avoid them until a decision has been reached about what they want to do. Two people is harder, but doable. Three people is hard, and given your current schooling situation . . . I'm sorry to say that my hopes aren't high."

You took a deep breath, or tried to, and let yourself take a moment to despair what was coming next, to think of worst case scenario before you steeled yourself.

"So what do we do?" you asked.

"Well, we have to do some tests on your lungs," the doctor said, "maybe a scan of some sort. I will also need to know the nature of your relationship with the people you are growing the flowers for, and their relationship with each other. It may affect the plant growth, and could sway any decision you make on your treatment plan."

"I'm getting the surgery," you told the doctor. "I made that decision before I even made the appointment. I've made the decision that I'm going to be selfish about this. I'm in the hero course. I'm going to graduate, and I'm going to help the people that need it. Not even Bakugou goading me into anything is going to get me to change my mind about this."

"Bakugou," the doctor mused, "is that . . . ."

"One of the guys I'm growing my flowers for? Yeah, he is. The other two are his boyfriends. I have a fucked up taste in partners apparently," you joked.

"Ah, you're one of those patients," the doctor said.

"Hmm?"

"You make jokes to help cope, and to try and put someone else at ease. You don't have to do that here. I am a Hanahaki specialist, I see a lot of people like you."

"Okay," you murmured.

After testing your lungs, and doing some scans, the doctor took you back to the original room.

"So, given the fact that you live in close proximity, and you have to spend a lot of time with all three of the various reasons, plus estimated rate of growth and your training routine . . . I'd say you have about a month left before you start heading towards red territory, meaning you have about a month before it starts becoming exceedingly life threatening."

"If I go into the red area," you began, "how likely is it that the surgery is going to be successful?"

"Depends on how far into the red you go," the doctor said. "Until about the halfway point, there are still high chances that it will be successful and that you will make a full recovery. Any further than that and the chances start decreasing dramatically."

You nodded, taking all the information in, processing it, tucking it away, applying it to situations that might happen.

"I can practically hear the gears turning in your brain," the doctor told you, giving you a small smirk.

"Sorry, habit," you said with a wince.

"You're taking this extremely well," he noted.

"I'm in Class 2-A," you told the doctor. "I've dealt with some bad people. Things like this don't faze me for long anymore."

"Fair enough," the doctor replied. "There's not a whole lot we can do for Hanahaki, even this early, so you just have to live with it until you set a surgery date."

"I have a vacation coming up," you admitted. "I'm assuming I have to go somewhere else for the actual surgery?"

"That's correct," the doctor said. "We aren't equipped for that here, we're just the starting point."

"Okay."

"I can give you the number for the hospital you can go to to get the surgery, and you can set everything up there or give them a phone call."

You nodded, taking the piece of paper the doctor handed you.

"I noticed that you came alone," the doctor said.

"Yes, I thought it might be easier this way. My parents aren't taking this well and the only people I felt comfortable bringing with me for this kind of thing are going to make it worse if I spend time with them, so my best bet was to come alone."

"I see," the doctor murmured. "Do your parents know that you're getting the surgery?"

"I told them, they know," you said.

"How did they take that?"

"Mom cried a lot, and Dad got mad and stormed away. They have mixed feelings about the whole thing. On the one hand, they're happy that I fell in love, they have reservations about it being who it is, but they could get over that, and they're upset that I have the disease in the first place. There's also the fact that getting the surgery has so many major side effects and they're skeptical. In the end though, they know that it's my decision, and I think Aizawa-sensei might commit murder if they don't let me make my own decision, and he made that very clear to me."

"So you have a support system?"

"Yes, quite a big one everything considered."

"Then you're free to go, but please give me a call if something changes."

"Thank you."

He nodded, sending you on your way.

When you got back to campus, the boys were there waiting for you.

You smiled when you spotted them, jogging over.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In the end, your routine with the boys didn't really change. You still trained with them, still studied with them, but when they started asking you to join them places, you refused.

First of all, you weren't going intrude on their time together.

Secondly, as much as you would have loved to spend time with them, the plant growth was something you had to take into consideration.

You had started journaling for them more, the red one was for Bakugou, the orange one was for Kaminari, and the yellow one was for Kirishima.

You had decided that Tokoyami was your best bet for getting the journals to the boys before your surgery. He likely wouldn't snoop, and he could be trusted to get the journals to the boys when he was supposed to, not before when they had a chance to try and stop you from doing what needed to be done.

You had yet to talk to the boys about the side effects that the surgery might have on your mindset towards them, but you figured you still had time to find a way to broach the subject with them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

YOU SHOULD HAVE KNOWN BETTER.

You were pushing it with your training as it was, and while you were getting stronger, your lungs were getting weaker and weaker as the flowers got bigger and bigger.

"You're pushing your luck," Aizawa said, frowning down at you.

"I'm fine," you growled. "Put me in the fucking brackets. I'm getting the surgery next week, I want to get in as much training as possible before I'm put on leave."

He frowned, and he was glaring at you enough that anyone else might've backed down, but you were going to hold your ground on this one. There was absolutely no way you were missing this opportunity because your body decided that it was going to be a bitch.

"Fine," he grumbled. "Bakugou, you're going up against (Y/L/N)."

"Bring it on Princess."

"Don't hold back Blasty," you teased.

"Do I ever?" he replied.

"No," you said. And that's one of the reasons I love you.

When you both climbed into the ring, you knew it would be a good fight. You had so much stored frustration that you could take out on Bakugou without fear of harming him.

Without use of your quirks, it was almost a fair fight.

As soon as Aizawa yelled, "Start!" you were flying at each other.

Blow and block, block and blow.

It was like a dance, and things were going well for the both of you, but then Bakugou got in an unblocked blow to your stomach.

Had that been with the added force of his quirk, you would've been on the other side of Gym Gamma, but without his explosions, it just made you roll to just inside the boundaries.

You struggled to pull yourself up in between the coughing, but you were having a rough time with it.

You managed to push yourself up with your arms, but you still couldn't breathe.

You couldn't hold back the torrent of flowers that spewed from your mouth from the force of the blow. You hadn't been coughing, so there was quite a build-up in your lungs, throat, and mouth.

Bakugou launched himself, seeing an opening, but a hand held out by you had him stopping.

"Is she puking?"

"Is she alright?"

"What's going on?"

You heard Kaminari and Kirishima rushing to your sides as Aizawa ended the fight, but you waved away their help.

You were still coughing, but you managed to push yourself to your feet, though you swayed dangerously into Kaminari's side.

You were panting by the time the flow of flowers and petals stopped, and you were leaning heavily on Kaminari.

"(Y/L/N), get to Recovery Girl," Aizawa ordered.

"No, I'm okay, I can still-"

"Go!" he ordered.

"I'm fine," you argued.

"Fine?" Kirishima whispered harshly. When you turned his eyes were dark and he looked like he might burst into tears. "Fine?" he asked, voice rising. "Fine? (Y/F/N), you just threw up like, fourteen full-sized fucking sunflowers! Not to mention the number of petals too! That's not fucking fine! That's having stage three fucking Hanahaki!"

Everyone in Gym Gamma stopped at that and swiveled their heads to look at you.

You blinked as Kirishima continued his little tangent. He was swearing almost as much as Bakugou, which had you worried.

"You should have told us," Kaminari murmured, voice tight with restraint. "Why didn't you tell us?"

He was crying, you realized when you turned your head to look at him. There were tears streaming down his face, and he looked devastated.

Bakugou was eerily silent, and when you turned your attention to him, you winced.

"It's not your fault," you told him.

You hated that pinched look on his face, warring between guilt, worry, and something you hadn't quite figured out yet.

Kaminari wrapped an arm around your waist, lifting your arm over his shoulder so that he could support you.

"Bakugou, listen to me," you ordered, clearing your throat a few times. "Katsuki," you demanded when he just looked at you with those glassy eyes and pinched face. "This is not your fault."

He nodded, dazed, clearly not comprehending what you were telling him.

"Problem children two through four are free to go. Get her to Recovery Girl," Aizawa ordered. "And don't bother coming back to class today."

Kirishima took you from Kaminari, carrying you bridal style, and you leaned into him gratefully, letting your body relax, sucking in as much air as you could.

"Why didn't you tell us? We could've-"

"Could've what, Denki?" you asked quietly, letting exhaustion take over. "What could you have done? My body has decided that it's going to grow flowers to try and get my love interests to notice me that way. It's growing flowers for emotionally unavailable people and there's nothing I can do except get the surgery."

"You still could have told us!" Kaminari cried, sniffling and furiously wiping his eyes. "We could've taken you to your appointments and tried to talk some sense into whoever it was and-"

He broke off into sobs and you reached out to lay a hand on his head.

"Come on Kami, if anyone should be crying right now, it's me," you said, having to take more breaths to get through the sentence.

"We should have- no- I should have noticed," Kirishima said softly.

"I didn't want you guys to notice because I knew you would worry about me. I didn't want you guys to have to worry about me. Besides, I had my decision made by the time I coughed up the first full flower. I'm going to be selfish and get the flowers removed so that I can keep saving people."

"It's our job to worry about you, (Y/F/N)," Kaminari sobbed. "We're your friends, we love you, we want to know about this kind of thing even if it's not killing you from the inside out."

"Sparky's right," Bakugou grunted.

Your head lolled to look at him, and he looked some kind of devastated.

"Never thought I'd hear you say that," you said breathlessly, giving a small chuckle.

"You should've told us."

"Next time I'll let you know," you told them, closing your eyes as you leaned your head on Kirishima's shoulder.

As soon as Kaminari opened the door to Recovery Girl's office another fit started.

"Get her on the bed and give her a bucket," she ordered. "Unfortunately, I can't do anything for this. And in her current state, a kiss isn't going to do much. I'm sorry dear."

"It's alright," you choked out, coughing more flowers into the bucket Bakugou handed you.

Kirishima patted your back softly while Kaminari held your hair back.

"Who is it?" Bakugou demanded.

"Babe, now is not the time-"

"Who is it?" he asked again, much slower and softer.

"There's no point," you told him when the overflow of flowers stopped.

The boys helped you get comfortable and you closed your eyes, wishing the bed would eat you.

"They don't need me, they don't want me."

"Have you even tried confessing?" Bakugou snapped.

You realized with a small start that he was desperate and snapping because of it. He was mad because he felt helpless and he didn't know how to handle it.

"There's no point. Three different colored flowers."

"Three different people," Kaminari realized.

"It doesn't matter if two of them love me, if the third doesn't that means that their flowers will still grow. It might give me some time, but the end result is still the same."

It was quiet for a few minutes and you relaxed into the bed, trying your best to breathe through the flowers.

"(Y/L/N)," Bakugou eventually remarked.

"What's up Blasty?" you asked.

"I'm going to ask you a question," he announced, and you cracked an eye open to glance at him, only to find realization breaking over his face. "And you know I'll know if you're lying when you answer."

"Give it your best shot Blasty," you told him, closing your eyes again.

"It's us, isn't it?" he demanded.

"Ding ding ding," you sang exhaustedly, "we have a winner."

"Wait, what?" Kaminari asked.

"The flowers that I'm growing inside my lungs, they're for the three of you. Like I said earlier, emotionally unavailable."

It was quiet again before Kirishima whispered, "So . . . we did this to you? We did this?"

"No," you snapped, sitting up to glare at him. "This is not your faults. None of this is because of anything any of you did. Hanahaki is a result of a gene mutation."

"Can you . . . explain more in depth, please?" Kaminari asked.

"A long time ago, there was this clan of people who could control plants with their emotions. It wasn't a quirk, since they didn't exist back then, but it was more of a connection with the earth or something. Anyway, rage, anger, love, hate, it all fueled their powers over nature."

"Great, plant manipulation," Bakugou grumbled.

"Then they started marrying outside the clan and all that jazz. It's a recessive gene, but it was a big clan. Anyway, a lot of people have the gene, but they don't have the right circumstances to make anything happen because of it. Because it's a recessive gene, both parents need to have it before it becomes much of a threat. Only a few unlucky bastards will ever even have a chance of getting Hanahaki. There are other less deadly variants though, but Hanahaki itself is rather rare.

"Because of the gene, when my feelings got as intense as they did, it started growing the flowers for you. The way Recovery Girl explained it, my body grew them to try and convince you guys of my feelings or something. It's hard to explain when I don't completely understand what this is either. But in short, the flowers are for you and they'll only go away when you all love me romantically or I get the surgery and forget about you."

"So you're one of the unlucky fuckers that has both recessive genes?" Bakugou asked.

"You win again Blasty. Normally, when it's only one person, it doesn't progress as fast as mine did. They can be easily avoided and it can take years for it to get this far."

"But there are three of us," Kaminari jumped in. "And we all have to live together and train. You couldn't really avoid us, meaning it got worse faster than normal."

You nodded, swallowing harshly.

"I'm sorry," you whispered. "I didn't expect it to get this far, and I certainly didn't want you finding out about it until after the surgery."

"But, now we can help!" Kirishima cried.

"No, Kiri, you can't," you told him. "I'm sure you've heard, but Hanahaki is only cured when the feelings are returned. Even if you wanted to help me like that, it wouldn't work. Besides, I would never ask that of you, of any of you."

"But-But that means that you have to get the surgery and forget about us."

You opened your eyes and cupped his cheek softly.

"You'll make friends with me again," you assured him. "Even if it seems like I don't want you to. Even if my attitude towards you guys changes, I'm sure you'll somehow find a way to draw me back in."

"There has to be something we can do," Kirishima whimpered, eyes welling with tears. "We love you, we can't lose you like this."

"It's okay," you murmured.

"It's not!" Kirishima cried, sobbing.

"Hang on," Kaminari said, getting that considering look on his face. "What if we said we wanted the flowers?"

"Huh? You lost me," you admitted.

"You said that your body was growing these flowers for us, right?" Kaminari asked, then continued when you nodded. "Well, I want mine. I want to take all the flowers that you're growing for me."

You were about to tell him that that wasn't how it worked, but the flowers in your chest decided that now was the perfect time to eject themselves from your body.

You coughed and choked as a torrent of orange petals erupted from your lungs.

Just as one wave ended, another began.

Tears stung your eyes and your throat felt like it was being ripped apart from the inside out, and your chest was constricting so much you thought you might pass out.

Suddenly, something much bigger was being pushed out of your lungs and up your windpipe.

Bakugou was shouting for Recovery Girl and the other two were panicking and trying to assist.

There must've been a stem this time, you thought deliriously.

You couldn't get enough air in.

Just as your vision started to go fuzzy around the edges, someone was easing the flower out of your throat.

You hacked and coughed and sobbed as leaves and roots tore up your throat, but then there was air in your lungs and you could breath better than before.

You choked on the amount of air flowing into your lungs again and slumped over the side of the bed, panting.

You spit blood into the bucket by your bed.

"Um . . . this definitely isn't natural," Kirishima whimpered after everyone realized that you weren't dead and that you were no longer in danger of choking on another plant.

You managed to crack your eyes open enough to see that Kirishima was holding a sunflower plant almost as tall as he was.

The base was stocky and thick, with a wide system of roots.

It branched off into at least six different stems, each with an orange sunflower at the top.

You forced yourself to swallow and managed to croak out, "Kami said," before your voice gave out.

"That's right!" Kirishima cried. "Kami told her that he wanted all of the flowers that she was growing for him."

"I didn't think it would actually work though!" Kaminari cried.

Bakugou settled you back against the pillows of the bed, brushing hair away from your face as the world stopped spinning around you.

"Can we try it too?" Kirishima asked.

You knew that the question should've been directed at Recovery Girl, but he was looking at you.

You mimed writing something and Recovery Girl handed you a paper and a pen.

Maybe later, you wrote, I think if we tried it now I would die. I was barely able to stay conscious this time. More back to back and there might be permanent damage to my throat and/or lungs.

Kirishima nodded, but there was something shining in his eyes that made you wonder what he was thinking.

Think a kiss would help now? you scribbled out, showing it to Recovery Girl.

She gave you one, and you relaxed into the pillows, letting the boys ask her questions.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

YOU FELT BETTER WHEN you woke up, though not by much.

Bakugou was asleep by the side of your bed, arms crossed under his head. His arms were pillowed by your thighs and you wondered how long he had been there.

You shifted a little, reaching a hand out to run your fingers through his hair.

"Hey Princess," Bakugou murmured, shifting to look at you, grinning softly.

"What time is it?" you croaked, wincing at the sound of your own voice.

"Little after five in the morning," he admitted, sitting up. "That one kiss took a lot out of you. Eiji and Denks went to bed at about one. I couldn't sleep so I thought I would stay down here in case anything happened."

"You mean you had a nightmare and instead of waking them up you came down here to feel useful in some way."

He didn't say anything but the blush on his cheeks gave him away.

"You didn't have to stay you know," you told him. "Just because of the whole Hanahaki thing-"

"It's not because of the fucking feeling flowers," he grunted. "I would've done this whether it was my fucking fault or not."

"I already told you guys," you snapped, "this is not your fault. You couldn't've stopped this."

"We should've told you sooner," he whispered.

"Should've told me what sooner?" you asked. "If you guys aren't comfortable being around because I'm in love with you, then you don't have to stick around."

"No, it's not that," Bakugou told you.

"What Katsuki is tryin' to say," Kaminari slurred, stumbling in, looking more exhausted than you, "is that we love you too. And we had been talking about asking you to join us."

"We were talking about approaching you about being our girlfriend, but then you suddenly started not wanting to go places with us and we were worried that we were making you uncomfortable," Kirishima added, rushing to make sure that Kaminari didn't crash into your bed.

Kaminari forwent the chair at the side of your bed and instead climbed onto the bed next to you.

Kirishima rolled his eyes fondly, sitting next to Bakugou.

"Yeah, what they said," Bakugou grumbled.

"You guys don't have to force yourselves to try and care about me like that," you said, frowning. "It doesn't do anybody any good and hurts everybody involved."

"How can we show you that we care about you like that?" Kirishima asked. "Please (Y/F/N)."

"Do I really seem like the kind of guy to lie about his feelings like this?" Bakugou interrupted. "And do you really think I would let these morons do something like this?"

"Kind of," you admitted. "You all care about people enough to try and do that. Besides, I thought you were all gay."

"Demi," Bakugou grunted.

"Pan!" Kirishima chirped.

"Bi, obviously," Kaminari murmured from where he was burrowing into your side.

You blinked, processing this new information.

You were about to respond but Recovery Girl waddled in.

"How are you feeling, hun?" she asked.

"About as good as can be expected I suppose," you said.

"I contacted the doctor that you originally spoke to and he said that the only way the flowers would've come out of your lungs would be because the person you were in love with said that they wanted them and because they were in love with you when they said it.

"That being said, these other two want to give it a try. We would need a small space between flowers of course, since they did a lot of damage to you on the way out, because of how far along you are, but it should work, if you're up for trusting them."

You glanced between the boys and sighed.

"Alright, let's give this a shot," you agreed. "I still have the surgery scheduled, so if it doesn't work I can still go in."

"It'll work. And when it does, will you believe us?" Kirishima asked.

"It'd be hard not to," you told him, "the facts are right there."

"Good. We can start whenever you're ready," Recovery Girl told you.

"Let's start now, I want this over with as soon as possible," you said.

"Understood," she agreed, grabbing three pairs of medical gloves, handing them to the boys. "You boys might need these."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Roughly nine hours later and you were panting as Kaminari gently lowered you onto the pillows of your bed.

"How are you feeling?" Recovery Girl asked.

Like I just threw up my intestines, but they were covered in thorns, you scribbled out. But I can breathe if that's what you meant.

"A few kisses and you'll be well on your way," she said, not seeming to mind your snark.

Bakugou snorted and Kaminari looked like he was trying not to laugh.

"Do you want us to stay?" Kirishima asked.

You can if you want to, but I'm not going to force you to stay if you don't want to.

"Do you want us to stay?" Bakugou asked, exasperated.

You hesitated for nearly a minute before you glanced down at your lap, nodding.

But you can go back to class if you want to. I know you guys have been here for forever and that you have classes to catch up with, you scribbled out quickly.

"We ain't goin' anyway Princess," Bakugou said, flopping down into one of the chairs next to the bed.

"Besides, Aizawa gave us a pass this morning," Kaminari added.

"You want us to stay and we'll stay," Kirishima told you.

You were in the middle of writing something but Bakugou snatched the pad out of your hands.

"Just accept that you're stuck with us darlin'," Kirishima said, tossing it over his shoulder.

Kaminari hummed his agreement, crossing his arms over your legs so that he could lay his head on them.

"When this is all over, and you're good to go again, we're taking you out, for real this time," Bakugou told you, mimicking his blond boyfriend and the position you had found him in early this morning.

Kirishima followed suit and you ruffled their hair before you nodded to Recovery Girl, who have you two kisses.

You were out like a light.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Darlin'," Eiji called over the din of the party that was going on around you. "Your mom wants to see our party trick!"

You laughed, handing the cookie platter to your little cousin, who giggled, trying to look inconspicuous.

You weaved through the people mulling around and found all three of your boyfriends talking with your family.

"Are we going to have to do this at your parents' house too, Katsuki?" you inquired, hands on your hips.

"Probably, the hag loves this stuff," he muttered, but his tone was fond.

"What are we doing at Katsuki's?" Denki asked, moving to drape himself over your back.

"Our party trick," you said and he laughed.

"I don't see a problem with it," Denki chuckled. "I think it's pretty hot."

"It is, but that doesn't mean that he should have to do it every time we go somewhere," you argued.

"I don't mind darlin', really, I think it's kind of fun," Eiji said, grinning.

"I find it humiliating," Katsuki grumbled.

"That's because you can't lift Eiji yet," you teased.

Katsuki's palms crackled but his eyes were soft when he looked at you.

"Are we doing this or what?" Denki asked.

Denki, Katsuki, and you all walked over to Eiji.

Katsuki was on Eiji's left while you and Denki were on the right.

Eiji then scooped all three of you up in his arms and your family cheered.

You giggled, wrapping your arm around Eiji's neck to stabilize yourself.

When he set you all down your little cousins, and even some of the older ones, were begging him to see how many he could lift at the same time.

"Why don't we try it next time?" you suggested, getting pouts and cries of injustice. "Think of it this way, the next time we see you all, he'll be even stronger and he'll be able to lift more of you than he can now!"

That soothed them for the moment, but some of the older ones glared at you, seeing through your compromise.

"You just want to keep him all to yourself!" one of them said as the others dispersed.

"But he's my boyfriend," you argued, "so I know him better than you do."

"But you have two others!" your little cousin retorted. "It's not fair."

Denki was crying from laughing so hard in the background, leaning on a chuckling Katsuki.

"They're definitely related to you, darlin'," Eiji teased, wrapping an arm around your waist and kissing you softly.

Your little cousin whined in disgust and disappeared into the fray and you sighed in relief.

"You must remember what that was like when you were little, (Y/F/N)," your mother teased. "You were the same way."

"I was not!" you cried, cheeks heating up. "I only argued because people kept telling me 'that's just the way it is' and I wanted a real reason why."

"Aw, imagine how cute little Lightning Bug was," Denki cried and you glared at him.

Soon all three boyfriends were on you about it and you groaned.

"You're all so mean!" you whined.

"But you love us for it," Bakugou argued.

"I hate it when you're right," you muttered, sending them laughing.

It had taken a lot to get to this point, but it was worth it, you decided. They would always be worth it.

[lacheri]

|| moon river. || part vii. ||

|| masterpost || taglist form || part vi. || part viii. ||

pairing: Levi x fem bodied reader

chapter content: modern au, neighbors au, coworkers au, alcohol/drinking, this chapter is so fluffy it might make you sick, sexual themes (no smut just reader being thirsty), very brief mention of masturbation (fem), minors/ageless blogs do not interact.

summary: in which friends hang out. or, whatever you and Levi are.

wc: 7.7k

a/n: big thank you to @astridthevalkyrie, @esroh06, and Mochi for betaing this chapter and screaming along with me!!! hope you enjoy!

The taxi ride is surprisingly comfortable, given the fact you and Levi had just shared some choice words. The backseat is small, hardly enough room to cross your legs at the knee. Your hips sit against Levi’s, both of you leaning your torsos towards the windows on your opposite sides. Neither of you scoot away.

The driver makes small talk with Levi, the two exchanging words you don’t recognize in French. You’ve seen the ravenette speak in his native tongue before, but you’ve never had a front row seat quite like this. Out of the corner of your eye, you watch the way his tongue rolls in his mouth as he speaks, the way his eyes shift around as he thinks of what to say next.

You still have no idea where exactly you’re headed. You’ve been in the car for a good ten minutes, congested Saturday night traffic keeping the vehicle stagnant at a snail pace. The urban scenery outside your window is foreign, but you recognize it as the center of the city. Crowds of people line the sidewalks — women in tight dresses wearing their tall heels, men varying from casual street wear to fancy suits. Everyone looks like they’re either headed somewhere important, or they just came from somewhere important.

You glance down at your attire, suddenly grateful for your choice in clothes. You dressed up quite nicely for your shift at the bar tonight, you could easily dismiss your clothing as casual wear instead of a uniform. Hange is pretty lenient in that department anyways. As long as you show up when you’re scheduled, you suppose that’s all they care about.

The taxi pulls over to an empty parking space to the right, and Levi taps your thigh, “Get out on your side.”

You nod, sliding out the door that happens to be closest to the curb. Standing on the pavement, you cross your arms under your chest as you wait for Levi to join you. You watch as he fishes out payment from his wallet, handing the money over to the driver before scooting over to the side you came out from. You quickly move out of the way, Levi joining your side as a couple of people rush to the cab before it drives off.

The city is magnificent in the day time, but in the night time it sparkles with a glimmer of mystery. You can’t see a single star in the sky, but the warm lighting from the passing cars paint constellations at eye level. Light fixtures on conjoined brick buildings shine a fresh perspective on the concrete, music plays from all directions, people laugh and chat in a flurry of mixed languages. It’s sort of overwhelming how many things are happening at once, if you’re honest.

Levi’s palm settles on the small of your back, heat spreading across your lower spine, “Come on, it’s right around the corner.”

Once again, you nod. His hand nudges you to take a step forward, his body moving in front of yours. You walk silently, flickering your eyes all around to absorb all of the new sights. It’s so busy, you can’t begin to imagine what these streets look like in the daytime. They have to be just as crowded, if not more.

Levi doesn’t lie when he says your destination is close by — the front door sits on a perfectly placed corner, slim and short with two concrete steps leading up. Edison light bulbs line in front of curtained side facing windows, indecipherable vinyl lettering plastered to the reflective plains. His hand leaves your back to tug at the door handle, nodding his head for you to go first. You shoot him a tight lipped smile, and follow his instruction.

Levi took you to a bar. You almost want to roll your eyes. You could’ve just stayed at Hange’s if he wanted to drink.

The bar is small, soft indie music playing over the radio. If you don’t watch your step, your hip can slam right into the corner of the bar counter. There’s a slim space for you to walk ahead, just enough for one person to slide through at a time. A handful of people sit in stools at the counter lining vertically with the opposing wall, not paying a single ounce of attention to anything other than each other. The lighting is dim, soft in varying purples, reds, and yellows, hand painted artwork decorates the walls. It’s hard to tell exactly what’s painted, but you think you recognize a zentangle interpretation of The Creation Of Adam. If you stare at it long enough, your eyes start to morph it into a complex Rorschach test.

“I’ll get us a drink, go find a table,” Levi murmurs, distracted by the alcohol lined shelving behind the counter. You start to reach into your bag to dig out your wallet, but the action catches his attention from the corner of his eye, “No. I got it.”

You frown, but sigh, “Okay, but I’m buying the next round.”

You don’t wait for him to reject your offer, shuffling your way through the tight walkway to the back of the building. The floor ascends from the main room to a larger square of space, a short metal staircase leading the way. The lights are somehow even more colorful back here — Christmas lights tacked to the ceiling, hanging low on the walls covered in posters and more interpretative artwork. It’s practically barren back here, only a few groups of people occupy the tables lined against the sides. You find an empty booth that looks like it was used the least, save for a forgotten straw wrapper left on the tabletop, and sit yourself on the leathery cushion.

You have to admit, this place is pretty cool. You start to wonder what other niche, hole in the wall places Levi knows of — and if he’d be willing to show you them.

Your head tilts in all directions to get a better look at the bar around you. Levi startles you when he places two glasses down on the table, holding back a smile at your not so subtle jump and gasp.

“Thank you,” you chuckle breathlessly, reaching for the drink pushed closest to you. You place a curious nose above the liquid and sniff.

“It’s a screwdriver,” he arches an eyebrow, sliding in on the other side of the booth.

“I know that,” you defend, rolling your eyes.

“What’s in it then?”

“Uh,” you dart your focus between Levi and the orange colored drink. “Rum, obviously.”

He snorts, “Orange juice and vodka.”

“I was just testing you.”

“I’m sure you were.”

The two of you fall into an awkward silence then. You busy your mouth with a tentative sip of your drink — oh, you like this one — while Levi does the same. His knuckles wrap around the circumference of the glass, drinking from in between his fingers. You arch an eyebrow, but don’t comment.

You find it sort of funny that you’ve been working at a bar with Levi for almost a month now, and you've yet to see him take even a sip of alcohol. Up until now, he could’ve told you he doesn’t drink, and you would’ve wholeheartedly believed him.

“I’m surprised you took me here,” you confess, attempting to break the silence. “I would think you’re sick of sitting in a bar.”

“I am, most of the time,” he tilts his head. “It’s different when someone else is making your drinks. You should know that better than anyone.”

“I still prefer your drinks though,” to prove your point, you take another sip of your screwdriver. “You can really taste the “I hate my job” in every single one you make.”

He breathes out through his nose in a laugh, “Glad someone appreciates it.”

“So,” you take a deep breath, choosing your words wisely. “Are we gonna talk about why you just ignored me for a week, or do I need to get you drunk first?”

“Hm,” he eyes up his drink, shrugging, and lifting the rim to his lips. Levi tilts his head back, and with one long inhale, he swallows the contents in seconds. Ice falls into his mouth, his tongue peaking out to cup it and hold it to his teeth. His glass returns to the table, his eyes meeting yours, and he crunches down on the ice, chewing slowly.

“Man, your dentist must hate you.”

Levi swallows, “Learned that move from you. You have no idea how badly you pissed me off last week with that.”

You narrow your eyes, “Hey, what’s the French word for asshole?”

“Trou du cul.”

“You’re such a trou du cul.”

He laughs, deep and genuine, “Good job. Said it perfectly.”

“I had the perfect example,” your smile feels treasonous. You want to stay mad at the ravenette, but fuck does he make it hard.

“And you’re a belle contrariété,” he cups his cheek with his free palm, leaning his elbow on the table.

(Beautiful annoyance.)

“And what does that mean?”

“Pain in the neck.”

“Why does it seem like you’re lying?”

“Maybe I am,” Levi smirks. “There’s no way to know, is there?”

An idea strikes you then. You slide your phone out of your pocket, and hold it just out of Levi’s sight, “Say it again, maybe I can figure it out.”

“Belle contrariété.”

“Belle contrariété, beautiful annoyance,” your phone chimes back. You stare pointedly at Levi. He stares back.

“I downloaded a translator app last week. Guess it comes in handy.”

“Guess it does.”

His cheeks blossom with the beginnings of a blush, and he shifts his gaze to the wall. You beam with victory, but then, it hits you.

Levi called you beautiful.

“Beautiful, huh?” your smirk conceals the way your heart races in your chest, feigning puckish confidence over budding butterflies in your stomach.

“You’re infuriating,” he huffs, though a hint of a smile twitches at his lips.

“I think you meant to say beautiful,” you wiggle your eyebrows, shifting your leg underneath the table to poke your foot at his shin.

“Whatever.”

“You’re still a jerk though,” you press your sneaker clad toes to his knee to emphasize your words.

His hand shoots down under the table, circling his fingers sternly around your ankle. His silver eyes lock with yours, and your breath catches in your throat, “I know.”

All moisture leaves your mouth, you gulp down on dry air, “I take it you don’t play footsies?”

Levi breathes out his nose and his grip relaxes. Using the very tips of his digits, his fingers snake up under the cuff of your jeans, toying with the denim nonchalantly, “I do.”

“You’re trying to distract me,” you try to tug your foot away with no real force, your lower abdomen squeezing in an all too familiar way.

“Maybe,” his nails gently scratch the surface of your skin, sending scolding chills up your leg. He smirks, cocking his head coyly, “It’s working, no?”

It is, but you don’t want to give Levi the satisfaction of knowing that. With all the willpower you can muster, you slowly move your foot away, his fingers gliding against your ankle all the way to your shoe-covered toes. Your foot meets the ground, and it feels like you can properly breathe again.

“You need another drink,” you choke out, discarding your gaze to the table. If you keep looking into his eyes, you don’t know what might come out of your mouth.

“Seems as if I do,” you hear Levi shuffle out of his seat again, his shoes hitting the floor as he walks towards the bar. He stops on your side of the booth, waiting for you to look up. You do despite your best efforts, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. He leans forward, bangs hanging in front of his eyes, “Shots?”

You nod in response, not trusting your voice. He licks his lips as he pulls away, his eyes magnetic. You watch him as he walks away, releasing a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

Levi’s extraordinarily good at distracting you. You almost forget why you’re here in this bar in the first place. It’s after you take a swig from your glass you remember — Levi owes you explanations.

When the ravenette returns to the table, slotting himself back on his opposing side, he holds on to two shot glasses. You don’t ask what the contents are — clear liquid sloshes against the rim as Levi gently pushes it across the wooden surface separating the two of you. You wait for his lead, picking up the tall, thin glass.

“Are you waiting for something?” Levi asks sarcastically, gaze flickering between your lips and the shot.

“Thought we took them at the same time?” you tilt your head in questioning. “That’s what Petra told me anyways.”

“Usually, yes,” he hums. “You can go ahead though.”

He just doesn’t want to miss when you choke on the straight alcohol and start crying, you roll your eyes.

With a deep, long inhale of air, you push your hair behind your ears, and place the glass to your bottom lip. The tip of your tongue rests against the rim, preparing to cup and guide the liquid as your head falls back. It flows surprisingly smooth into your mouth, trickling down your throat before it settles into your stomach. A lone drop slips from the corner of your lips, trailing to your chin and jaw. Placing the emptied shot on the table, you use your thumb to collect the stray bead, and wrap your lips around your digit.

It tastes really good. The burn in your throat is hardly noticeable.

You look at Levi expectantly, “What was that?”

“Baise-moi,” he groans, carting his fingers through his hair. “Coconut rum.”

(Fuck me.)

“I liked it!” you smile. “It’s called baise-moi?”

You don’t think you’ve ever watched a person turn red so fast and bright before. He shakes his head aggressively, “No, don’t say that.”

“Baise-moi?” you blink, furrowing your eyebrows. “What does that mean?”

“It’s a saying,” he grits his teeth. “Cuss word. Don’t look it up.”

You shrug, knowing you’re definitely going to look it up as soon as Levi turns a blind eye. He takes his own shot with lightning speed, hardly blinking an eye at the taste. Coconut rum, you’ll have to remember that when you find yourself drinking alongside Petra again.

As it turns out, Levi is a fantastic manipulator of conversation. He somehow avoids bringing up the events, or lack thereof, of the past week. Multiple trips to the counter later, you sit facing one another mildly buzzed. An hour passes you by, and two glasses of water sit on the table. Levi is very adamant about staying hydrated while taking shots — something you’ll more than likely thank him for tomorrow morning.

“We should play a game,” you suggest, head swimming in your tipsiness. “Like, a question game.”

The ravenette shrugs, leaning back into the upholstery of the booth, “Don’t ask any stupid questions and I’ll play.”

“No promises,” you giggle, leaning chin into your hands, elbows perched on the table top. “Okay, first question — what’s your favorite color?”

“Green,” he slowly nods, as if unsure of his answer.

A silence consumes you. Oh, Levi doesn’t get how the game works.

“We go back and forth asking each other questions, Levi,” you smile teasingly. “You ask one.”

“Okay. What’s your favorite color?”

You roll your eyes at his originality, stating your favorite color, “How long have you lived in the city?”

“About fifteen years, give or take. Moved here with my uncle when I was a teenager, and never left.”

“Where are you from originally?” you lean forward.

He smirks, “Not your turn.”

You roll your eyes once more, hoping they won’t get stuck like that, “Right. Well, that’s my next question anyway, so might as well answer it now.”

“Northern France,” a darkness lingers in Levi’s pupils, disappearing as soon as you notice it. “I get two questions, then.”

“Ask away,” you chuckle lightly.

“Why’d you move here?”

“I purposefully flunked out of college. Well, technically art school,” you snort. “Got fired from my bookstore job because of that. My mom got remarried to some rich asshole who wanted to send me away to some business school to teach me manners. I told him I’d rather die than be some corporate zombie. So I packed all my shit and came here.”

“That sucks,” Levi comments, rolling his glass of water between his fingers. “Did you take some of his money at least?”

“No,” you laugh. “I should’ve though. Do you—“

“My turn,” his eyebrow arches, a teasing smirk on his lips. “You already asked your second question, remember?”

“Right, sorry, my bad.”

Levi pauses for a few moments. He holds an air of nervousness, and just as you’re about to offer up a suggestion for what he could ask, he clears his throat and speaks.

“Can I take your picture?”

Your eyes widen, “What, like right now?”

“Right now,” he looks intimidating as he keeps his eyes locked with yours. “You can say no, if you don’t want me to.”

“Do you even have a camera with you?”

He shakes his phone in his hand, “Not very professional of me, I know.”

“You don’t have to,” you insist, suddenly feeling guilty. Levi doesn’t have any equipment with him, and for whatever reason in your intoxicated mind, you feel at fault.

“I want to. You look,” his words trail off, an unreadable expression crossing his features. “The lighting looks good.”

You think you get what he’s saying, so you nod in silent agreement. You run your fingers through your hair, not sure if you should keep the strands tucked behind your ear or in front of your face. Should you smile, pose?

Levi must see your internal struggle, positioning his phone after thumbing through the brightness settings, “Do what you were doing before. Elbows on the table, looking at me.”

Slowly, you lean back into your previous position. Your fingers feel out of place as you cup your cheeks, like they’re almost too natural. Or too posed. Levi doesn’t say anything about it though, only instructing you to look at him once more.

“You look like a deer in headlights, or whatever that stupid saying is,” he remarks.

You giggle in response, and he’s tapping at light speed on his phone screen, “Levi! I wasn’t ready!”

“Candids are better than staged pictures anyways,” he states. “It’s real.”

“Aren’t all pictures real?” you tease.

He laughs dryly, “Funny.”

“Okay, my turn,” you take a sip from your water, clearing your throat. “What got you into photography?”

“Same thing that got you into painting,” his arms cross along his chest, closing himself off. “The want to capture something, keep it frozen in time. Control it. Make others see things from your perspective, however fucked up or unrealistic it may be.”

Your face softens, “Levi, that’s beautifully put.”

He shrugs, tilting his gaze towards the ceiling, “I essentially just said we have control issues.”

Your laugh seems abrasive in the context of your conversation, “You’re not wrong.”

You? Control issues? No kidding — you ran away from home because you couldn’t paint the perfect future for yourself there.

It seems as though Levi isn’t ready to let the topic move on, he continues, “It’s just, well. It’s like living in your own world, you create everything around you. Maybe add god complex to our list of problems.”

“We should probably seek out a therapist,” you muse.

“I know a guy, actually,” Levi smirks, eyes set in a mischievous glint. “Makes house calls.”

“You’re a funny guy, Levi, you know that?”

It’s true. He’s funny and charismatic when he lets himself be, smart and witty. You could name a thousand things you like about Levi, but when he’s carefree like this — you could name a million.

He shrugs off your compliment, becoming all too self aware, “Sometimes.”

“One more round of questions?” you propose.

He purses his lips as he thinks, “Sure. I don’t think I have any good ones though.”

“I can ask mine first?”

“You didn’t need permission when you skipped over mine before.”

You ignore his comment, “What happened this week?”

His arms fall to his sides, his expression neutral, “Not drunk enough yet.”

“I deserve an honest answer,” your gaze shifts to the wall, finding interest in the way the lights sparkle. “I need to know if I offended you, so I can apologize.”

Levi sighs your name, your sight returning to his form, “You didn’t do anything wrong. I was, fuck I’m really not drunk enough for this conversation. I’m just an idiot.”

“You’re not,” you reassure him. “I won’t force you to tell me, but I do deserve a genuine, honest apology.”

“For our friendship?”

“For our friendship.”

Your heart races, you can hear it clear as day in your ears. Whatever buzz you had going for you has taken a backseat, you’re actively choosing to sober up for his words. This is the moment you’ve been waiting for, for Levi to finally, officially, consensually be your friend. Or, he’ll decline you once and for all and you’ll be perfect strangers.

He clears his throat, eyebrows furrowing, “I’m sorry. I was wrong for everything. You didn’t deserve that.”

Your heart soars, “Thank you. So, we’re friends? You’re not going to ignore me anymore?”

“Four questions, that’s a new record.”

“Levi.”

“Yes,” you swear you see a spark of a smile start to form in the corners of his mouth. “We’re friends. I won’t be an asshole anymore.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” you joke, and his spark turns into a full grin. “Look at us. Friends.”

“You’re fucking ecstatic, aren’t you?”

“Absolutely. It’s taking everything in me not to jump on this table and scream in victory.”

“Thank you for not doing that. I’d leave you here by yourself.”

“No you wouldn’t,” you challenge him. “You wanna know why you wouldn’t?”

“Five now.”

“Because we’re friends.”

“I take it back, we’re not friends.”

“Nope, can’t take it back. It’s official.”

“I’m taking it back.”

“I’ll remember it forever. I have the words replaying in my mind right now.”

“No one will believe you if you tell them.”

“Doesn’t matter. You and I both know the truth.”

“Whatever,” he grumbles, slumping back into his side of the booth. “I better get friendship cupcakes out of this.”

You gasp, “So you did like them!”

Staring pointedly at you, Levi huffs, “They weren’t the worst.”

You don’t mean to do this, but you start zoning out, a lazy smile on your face. If you were a hundred percent sure that Levi wouldn’t shove you off and actually take back his words, you’d bolt across the table to swaddle him in an embrace. Running your fingers through his raven locks, gushing about how happy you are that you’re officially friends.

You’ve never been good at being subtle, so why start now?

“You wanna get out of here?” you ask.

“And go where?” Levi responds, his voice soft.

“Anywhere, everywhere,” you pull your bottom lip between your teeth, excitement flowing through your veins.

“Sounds dangerous,” he mimics you, tugging on his own lip.

“C’mon, when was the last time you were spontaneous?”

“It’s supposed to rain. This is the only place open right now.”

“Then I’ll guess we’ll get wet,” your tongue presses to the back of your teeth, you lean forward. “I’ll make you tea when we get back to the apartments?”

“Bargaining I see,” Levi begins to stand, shaking his head. “You better make the best cup of tea I’ve ever had.”

“It’ll be adequate at best,” you scramble out of the booth. “I’m better at coffee.”

“I hate coffee.”

“I know, that’s why I offered tea.”

You replay one of the first conversations you had with the ravenette — snarky remarks made on both sides waiting for your drinks at the cafe. Your heart swells, remembering the interaction fondly. Even if Levi was sort of an asshole. Well, is.

He sighs, heading towards the bar counter, “Wait here, I’ll close the tab.”

“Wait!” your eyes widen. “I was supposed to buy the next round! Levi!”

He’s walked away, purposefully ignoring you. You glare at his back.

On second thought, you suppose you will make him the best cup of tea he’s ever had in his entire life.

Levi buys another round of shots while closing his tab, the two of you stumbling out of the bar with your buzzes reignited. You’re laughing at the way your ankle nearly twists on the concrete as you step out onto the sidewalk, and Levi is hissing something or other about watching your step. The bar door shuts behind you, the two of you on solid ground, and you face him.

You don’t think, closing the short distance between you and Levi, you swing your arms around his neck. You lean your forehead into his shoulder, and squeeze.

You feel him stiffen, feel his arms slowly lift. You feel Levi as he wraps them around your back, smoothing his palms between your shoulder blades.

You hum in contentment, whispering, “For being my friend.”

He breathes out through his nose, his right hand coming up to cup the back of your head. He ruffles your hair, “You’re such a sap.”

“Maybe,” you chuckle, letting your grip loosen. You pull away, Levi frowns, and you’re walking in the opposite direction.

“Do you even know where you’re going?” he calls out, slowly trailing behind you.

You look around — brick buildings to your left and the now barren street to your right, “Nope.”

You’re sure you’ll find something intriguing eventually. It’s about the journey, not the destination, you rationalize. Besides, you haven’t seen this part of the city yet, and it looks especially dreamy in the night’s light.

It’s probably three in the morning or something. You can’t be bothered to check your phone to confirm the time, but somehow in your bones you know. Time sort of froze inside that bar, talking and hanging out with Levi.

“So, we’re just going to walk around the city?” Levi interrupts your thoughts.

You nod, not looking back at him, “Yeah! Until we find something cool!”

He can hear his eye roll as he speaks, “We won’t find it going this way. C’mon, I know a place.”

You stop in your tracks, still not turning around, “A place?”

“A place.”

“What kind of place?”

“A cool one,” Levi snickers.

“I may be interested, give me some details,” you cross your arms childishly, pursing your lips.

“Are you really in the position to question my offer? We could go home, you know.”

Fair point, “If this place is anything but cool, I’m revoking my tea offer.”

“It is and you won’t.”

He’s got you there, “Fine. Let’s go.”

You were planning on turning around, but Levi might not have foresaw you doing that — he grabs your hand, cupping your palms together, and gently pulls you. Gravity tugs you to face him, heat flushing through your face. Levi holds a playful glint in his eyes, youthful and endearing. Your heart hammers in your ears, your mouth running dry. You have no choice but to follow him as he begins to walk, your feet moving in their own accord.

“It’s not far, just a ten minute walk,” he states though the thought never crosses your mind.

You nod even though he can’t see you, “Better be cool.”

It doesn’t take long at all — a few turns taken and a couple of streets crossed. The illuminated buildings of the center city start to dissipate, the brick less consistent, alleyways between them more prominent. Like an oasis in the desert, the urban jungle ends, the sound of rushing water heard from a distance.

The street opens into a large stretch of concrete, steps descending towards a river. The water is dark, nearly black in the dark light of the moon. Purposefully placed trees stand tall in appointed squares of earth, and it makes you realize how long it’s been since you’ve seen so much foliage. It’s beautiful. You can see a bridge to the right, distant warm lighting attached to tall metal towers. It must lead to the highway — cars zoom back and forth on asphalt you can only assume is there.

“Thought you hated anything tourist-y?” you ask breathlessly. Your hand is still interlocked with Levi’s.

“Do you see any tourists?” he responds sarcastically.

Not a single soul is present. It feels as if this place exists only for the two of you. Like one of those cheesy scenes in a romantic comedy, but, it’s real. You’re standing here with your own two feet, feeling the whipping winds of the large open plain before you, around you. It lingers in your ears and sends your hair in a flurry, lashing around your cheeks in contemporary naturality. You can see the rolling tides of the channel of murky water, watching as it ripples and churns to the right, dispersing into the black of the night.

You swear you can see a single star in the sky too.

“No,” you finally answer. “It’s just us.”

Levi let’s your hand fall from his, and you find yourself immediately missing the contact, “Is it cool enough for you?”

“Yes,” you think your breath is following the direction of the water, leaving your lungs with violent speed. “It’s pretty cool.”

Levi hums, beginning to walk down the descending steps. He stops after a few, turning his head, “Are you coming?”

You don’t respond, your brain kicking your legs into gear, and follow him.

Along the water’s edge is a seemingly endless galvanized fence, separating the canal from the pavement by a few yards. It’s as close as you’ll get to the depths, but it’s rejuvenating nevertheless. Water always has that effect, whether it be an ocean or a creek.

You lean your elbows against the railing, taking in the sight around you, “Do you come here often?”

“That’s a terrible pick up line,” Levi huffs, pushing his back against the barrier, shoving his hands in his pockets.

You roll your eyes, “Trust me, I have better ones. You know what I meant.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” he laughs. “Yeah, I like to come here whenever I need to think. It’s a great place to take pictures too.”

“It’s peaceful, quiet. Which is pretty hard to find here in the city,” you think out loud. “It’s nice. I didn’t even know this was here.”

“Most people don’t,” he explains. “It’s not a park, it’s just city water. Nothing exciting according to the tourist websites.”

“I think it’s exciting,” your eyes float to the corners, smiling at Levi as you gaze at him.

His smile is soft as he looks back, “I think so too.”

Your elbow brushes against his, an electric current running through your nerves. It’s way too tempting, so you don’t stop yourself from leaning your head onto his shoulder. You’ll accept it when Levi inevitably pushes you off, probably making some snarky joke about you being clingy when you’re drunk. He doesn’t. Instead, he shifts closer, balancing his weight on the leg closest to you. His temple knocks against the crown of your head, and you stand together in comfortable silence.

You were wrong about comparing this scene to a romantic comedy — it feels like a line from a poem. Not so wordy, but it hits your gut the same way a novel would. Pretty words appear as light touches, spaces and commas serve as the heartbeats you and Levi share.

“You should let me paint you,” you muse. “Since you took my picture, ‘s only fair.”

“You’re gonna draw me like one of your French girls?” you feel his body vibrate in laughter under your cheek.

Your lips spread across your teeth as you grin, giggling, “Wow! I can’t believe you actually just quoted Titanic!”

“The opportunity arose, and I took it,” Levi breathes.

“If nothing else, you’re a risk taker,” you tease.

“I’ll add it to my list of stellar qualities.”

“You have a list?” you lean your head back to look up at the ravenette. “Please, share with the class.”

He smirks down at you, “It’s very long, I have a lot of winning attributes.”

“Mhm?” you arch an eyebrow.

“Mhm,” he repeats, nodding his head. “My killer good looks, for a start.”

“Oh my god!” you bark out laughter. “What did you drink? I’d like my grumpy neighbor back, please. I don’t know who this guy is.”

“I can’t make jokes? I’m not always a stick in the mud, you know.”

“Seems like it,” you stick your tongue out. “You don’t think my jokes are funny!”

“Because they’re not.”

“Levi!”

You’ve never seen Levi laugh so much in the time that you’ve known him — his eyes crinkle in the corners, his smile reaches his pupils, his face in complete delight.

“C’mon, we should get going,” he whips out his phone, shaking the screen in front of your eyes. “It’s late, taxi’s aren’t going to run much later.”

“I mean, how far is the apartment? We could just walk,” you shrug, not particularly caring at the time that reads three in the morning. Turns out, you were right.

“It’s a ten minute drive, so, maybe it’s about a thirty minute walk?”

“We walk everywhere else, so why not?”

Levi deadpans, “I’m calling a taxi.”

“Boo, you’re no fun,” you shake your head. “My shoes will probably thank you later though.”

Levi sits on hold for a good while, probably enough time to get a good head start on your walk home, but he secures a ride. You stare at the man made river for a while longer, taking in the scenery while you still can. He taps on your shoulder after he hangs up, pulling you from your sight seeing.

You follow him up the steps from where you came, navigating the streets back onto the main road in the center of the city. If you thought it was dead before, the roads are practically in a post apocalypse state now. Not a single vehicle drives by, you don’t see a living soul anywhere in your immediate line of vision. It gives you the same peaceful feeling as the spot Levi had shown you.

“You’re shivering,” Levi says.

“It’s cold out,” you chuckle. “I’ll be fine.”

Wordlessly, Levi drapes an arm over your shoulder, tugging you close to his body. You gaze at him, a smirk on your lips.

“Shut up,” he rolls his eyes, securing his grip. “Just being a friend.”

You only snuggle up closer, taking the crumb he’s given you. The taxi shows up not too long afterwards, and Levi holds the back door open for you to slide in. Shutting it once you’re settled into place, he circles around the trunk, coming in on the opposite side. He instructs the driver where to go, and you’re off.

You had fun tonight, probably the most fun you’ve had in a long time. You’ll have to tell Levi that before you part ways. Your chest feels funny after having that thought.

Your apartment comes into view a lot sooner than you had anticipated, thanking the driver before exiting while Levi pays for the ride. You silently curse yourself. You definitely can’t forget about the cupcakes now.

You wouldn’t call the silence on the journey up to your apartments uncomfortable, but it’s oddly placed. All night, conversation had flowed so easily between the two of you, so why does it feel weird now? Like you can’t find the right words to say, no matter how hard you think about them.

Your front door should feel welcoming, but it feels like a bitter goodbye. You stand before the cedar, fumbling with your hands, searching with failure for words to speak. Anything to fill the silence, to keep this night still going.

“You promised me tea,” Levi mutters, standing so very close behind you.

“Can I confess something?” you bite your lip. “I actually don’t have any tea bags.”

“That’s a shame, I was really looking forward to it.”

“Next time?” you hold your breath.

“It’s not tea,” he exhales, the air catching locks of your hair. “But I have a bottle of red wine I can bring over.”

“Sure,” you nod, relief flooding your senses. “I’ll leave the door unlocked, you can just come in.”

You feel his warmth retreat, his voice distant, “Okay.”

“Okay,” you blink.

Once he’s out of sight behind his own door, you scramble into action, unlocking your door hastily. You scan your apartment for any signs of mess — it’s nearly perfect in its tidiness, only an unmade throw blanket lounging on your couch. You realize with a start that you don’t even own wine glasses.

Oh well, you hope Levi likes drinking out of plastic cups.

You kick your shoes off in your bedroom, stuffing them behind the door to conceal the haphazard way they lay on the floor. You shuffle into your kitchen, picking out the cleanest looking pair of cups, and wait.

You shouldn’t be so nervous to have another person inside your dwelling, especially one who’s already traversed through your apartment only a week ago. It reminds you of your prom night — sneaking Eren into your childhood bedroom while your mother and step father slept soundly. Except it’s just you, and soon to be Levi, and there’s no logical reason to sneak a man into your own home.

Besides, Levi invited himself over. You had asked Eren to come home with you and take your virginity. Not that you’re asking Levi to fuck you — oh god, now you’re thinking about Levi in a suggestive way. How his shirt would fall to the floor in beautiful symbolism, his breathing erratic and heavy. How his lips would feel pressed against your neck, your collarbones, your breasts. You imagine his tongue would be scorching hot as it trailed along your jugular, his hands kneading any flesh presented to him. You imagine how big his—

The creek of your front door pulls you from your dirty mind, Levi appearing in the doorway, holding a bottle of deep red.

You know it’s big. It has to be.

“You’re not tired, are you?” the ravenette frowns, pausing in your threshold.

You shake your head, both to answer him and to rid yourself of your thoughts, “No, just zoned out. Come in!”

“You sure? We can do this another time,” Levi offers though he makes no effort to stop himself from getting comfortable in your home. He kicks his shoes off at the door, nudging them neatly against the wall, crossing through your living room in route to join you in your kitchen.

“I’m sure,” you grin. “Thanks for bringing the wine, I can’t tell you the last time I had a glass.”

“Or cup,” Levi nods his head at the tall pair of plastic cups on your counter. “Should’ve told me to bring over wine glasses too.”

“Didn’t think of it then,” you shrug, becoming distracted as Levi begins to uncork the bottle with his keys. “Whoa, I didn’t know that actually works! I tried one time, nearly gave myself a black eye.”

“I’m a bartender,” Levi murmurs, focused on the way the cork makes a popping noise upon its release. “I know all the tricks.”

The plum colored liquid fills your cups with sloshing and gulping noises from the bottle. Levi gives each cup a generous pour, leaving about half the bottle left. You lift the cup to your lips, and drink.

You cough, the bitter taste settling on your tongue in an unpleasant lingering, “What the fuck is that?”

Levi chuckles under his breath, “Wine, obviously.”

“Why is it so dry?”

“It’s a Merlot, it’s supposed to be dry.”

Your face turns sour, “Gross.”

“It’s strong though,” he shrugs, taking a large gulp of the dark liquid. It stains the insides of his lips a deep vermillion, his tongue licking away the remenients.

Not wanting to look like a quitter, you take a deep breath and lift the cup once more to your mouth. Holding in that breath, you chug. Once your lungs burn with the need for air, you set the glass down, shuttering as the wine settles into your stomach.

“This isn’t a frat party,” Levi snorts. “You can drink it slowly, it’s not going anywhere.”

“Nope, this is disgusting,” you take several more gulps, leaving the cup empty. You squeeze your eyes shut, gasping for air, “Holy fuck, what the fuck is in this?”

“Grapes.”

“Get out.”

Levi smirks, “No.”

You narrow your eyes, “Fine.”

You refill your cup much to your distaste. You repeat the same chug, slower this time, and shutter. Levi casually sips his wine, looking around your apartment.

“It’s smaller than mine,” he comments. “It's sort of empty though.”

“Yeah, haven’t had much time to decorate with the whole trying to find a job ordeal,” you say snarkily. “I have a painting of Jeremy up on the wall though, remember?”

“Jeremy?” Levi scrunches his eyebrows, eyeing up your walls. “You mean the painting of the plant?”

You nod enthusiastically, “Yes! That’s my precious son.”

“You’re fucking weird.”

“Thank you!”

“‘S not a compliment.”

You finish off your second cup, “I’m taking it as one anyways.”

Levi hums, half paying attention, half gazing at your artwork, “You’re pretty good.”

“Thanks,” you tuck your hair behind your ear, the wine reawakening your dwindling buzz. “You wanna see him? Jeremy?”

“Sure,” he side eyes you, tone apprehensive.

You circle around Levi, walking through your living room to cut through your bedroom to your balcony doors. The ravenette follows closely behind, quiet as a mouse as you unlatch your doors and step onto the platform. The night air is somehow chillier than earlier. The clouds are darker too with the promise of rainfall.

You point at your begonia with pride, “I raised that boy.”

Levi flickers his gaze between you and the leafy plant, “That’s, your art, I mean — that’s pretty, well, accurate?”

“Wow, don’t hurt yourself trying to compliment me,” you tease.

“You’re talented,” he forces the words out, groaning at himself. “Vous êtes très talentueux.”

(You are very talented.)

Blood rushes beneath the layers of skin on your cheeks, you smile sheepishly, “Thank you, Levi.”

Maybe you’re a bit more intoxicated than you previously believed, but Levi’s French settles into your brain in a funny way. It sets your nerve endings ablaze, a yearning deep within your stomach. You stare at his lips, watching the way they form the foreign words with ease.

He catches you, those cursed lips tilt upwards, “Je peux vous aider?”

(Can I help you?)

“Stop,” you groan, running your palm over your face.

“Why? Do you like it when I speak to you in French?” Levi’s voice drops, you could almost believe the tone to be seductive. “Est-ce que ça vous rend nerveux? Vous fixez mes lèvres.”

(Does that make you nervous? You’re staring at my lips.)

You glare daggers at the ravenette, “Shut up.”

Levi chuckles, “Fine.”

The two of you fall into yet another comfortable silence. Your eyes are drooping in sudden sleepiness, the cold seeping into your bones. It’s been a long day, and the wine in your system is coaxing you to indulge in the comfort of your mattress. Which looks quite tempting from your view.

“I should probably head home,” Levi announces. “It’s nearly five in the morning.”

You nod, not having enough energy to form a proper response. It is late. Levi works tomorrow. You should let him get some rest.

You walk him through your apartment, sort of sad the two of you didn’t get to enjoy the rest of the wine. Another night, you tell yourself, heart full of hope. You watch as he slides his shoes back on, insisting you to keep the bottle here.

“I have another one in my fridge,” Levi explains, catching your worried look. “Don’t worry about it.”

His departure is bittersweet. You don’t want this night to end, but your fluttering eyelids and slumping frame reminds you that you need your own rest. As much as you don't want to say goodbye, you have to.

Standing in the hallway, tipsy and tired, you watch his mouth move as he speaks — words you don’t listen to, too focused on the way his pout is plump and pink. You wonder what it’d be like to kiss him.

“You’re shameless,” he breathes.

“What do you mean?” the curve of his bottom lip is so pretty. It looks like it feels like a pillow, soft and mailable. His tongue peaks behind his teeth, wetting the flesh in a quick swipe. You can’t ignore the feeling in your stomach when he does this.

“You’re staring at my lips,” Levi’s voice cracks, so low and quiet you can barely hear him. “Like you want to kiss me.”

“And if I do?” you’re leaning towards him, consciously or unconsciously, you’re not sure.

Levi doesn’t move a muscle, his pretty lips moving so slowly, “Then I’ll tell you that you’re drunk, and I don’t kiss drunk girls.”

“You’re missing out,” you breathe out through your nose in a silent laugh. “I use a lot of tongue when I’ve had a few drinks.”

“Goodnight, ami,” Levi leans in, pressing a chaste kiss to your cheek.

(Friend.)

Suddenly wide awake, your eyes bulge in their sockets. You stare at him in disbelief as he pulls away, mouth agape. Levi sends you a knowing look, walking to his door, and disappears behind the cedar.

You lay in bed questioning if this is what being Levi’s friend entails, or if the two of you really are friends. Is it normal to imagine your tongue in your friend’s mouth as your fingers travel under the elastic of your pants?

LACHERI © 2021: all writing content belongs to LACHERI. I do not allow reposts or translations

taglist: ( strike through couldn't be tagged ): )

@imkumichan @devilstempt @tokyo-banana @misslovingpearl @midaribaby @dekcolrehsb122 @notgoodforlife @astridthevalkyrie @asilentshout @blondeboyfriend @people-arent-food @araveticazx @eripeachy @ryukatters @resonancesoul @khwohsahnt @joykamado @thebeardedmoon @m2yatwins @esroh06 @sinnerofthewalls @kimchisodaa @bikinibrattoms @scummy-simp @himboslayer @erepiki @vngelis @levihny

[kenbunshokus]

eggnemies to lovers

nami/vivi, zoro/sanji | 7k words  (best viewed on: ao3)

My (20F) Date (21M) keeps getting into fights with a cook at Baratie. submitted 6 months ago by u/throwawaypinwheel

(Or, the one where Sanji is a diner cook, Vivi is their waitress, and Zoro and Nami accidentally became each other’s wingman.)

Zoro glares at his plate as if his omelette has just challenged him to a duel. Nami tries her best to focus on the map she’s working on—this one’s a particularly difficult homework from her Intro to Coastal Navigation class—and pointedly does not look up.

“Holy shit,” Zoro mutters under his breath, poking at the offending egg, “Nami, I swear—”

“We are not having this conversation again—”

“I told you,” Zoro plows on, “that fucking cook is doing this on purpose.”

Nami takes a deep breath. Cartography is a delicate art, and Nami aims to be a professional. She takes her favorite pencil and elegantly traces over the coastline of Cocoyashi Village, poised and collected and calm. She’s not going to take the bait and ruin her map, no matter how much Zoro is sulking over an egg—

She sighs. “Zoro, I’m pretty sure there’s just been some mix-up with the orders.”

Zoro huffs at that, clearly disbelieving. “For the third time this week?”

“This isn’t exactly a five-star establishment,” she points out, and adds, reasonably, calmly, in an attempt to find some semblance of peace, “I doubt the cook of some no-name diner even knows your name.”

The words seem to have brought about the opposite effect, because now there’s a dangerous glint in Zoro’s eyes as he mutters, “well, he’s about to find out,” before standing up and shamelessly yelling, “ OI! COOK! ”

Nami drives the pencil through her map.

+

     r/relationship_advice

My (20F) Date (21M) keeps getting into fights with a cook at Baratie. submitted 6 months ago by u/throwawaypinwheel

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  My (20F) Date (21M) keeps getting into fights with a cook at Baratie.

submitted 6 months ago by /u/throwawaypinwheel

 I know this sounds really weird, but here it is:

This guy and I have been on a couple of dates. We’d been friends long before we started trying this going out thing, so he isn’t a total stranger to me, and I’ve long known him as a pretty calm guy. Chimes in once a week in the group chat, grunts a lot during conversations, you know — one of those quiet, meditating types. He’s only competitive when it comes to his favorite sport (he’s a professional kendo athlete), but other than that he tends not to care about what other people think about him. I’ve never seen him respond to anyone’s taunts or getting worked up by a stranger’s words.

Except at Baratie.

Any time we’re out he wants to go to this diner called Baratie down in Grand Line. I don’t really care about the food, but the tables there are big enough for me to do work (Maritime Science major here—lots of stationeries and large maps to work with). But that became impossible once he and this one cook started chirping at each other every time we went there. Date complained about his eggs one time, because he likes them a little runny and they were served hard. The cook responded by giving him scrambled eggs. When he brought it up again, the cook served him two hardboiled eggs. It was kind of funny to be honest, but my date wasn’t able to laugh it off. When we left, he was in a bad mood.

This is the crazy part: he keeps going back.

In fact, he keeps going back and ordering eggs and getting into fistfights with the same cook. It’s almost a ritual at this point. He orders runny eggs, the cook serves him some other version of eggs, and then they beat the shit out of each other. We never eat out at any other places now; it’s just Baratie every fucking week. Sometimes he even goes there without me. 

I’ve tried to talk to him about it a few times, but he keeps saying it’s a matter of principle. I’ve told him to just talk to the manager, but he just waved me off. Apparently that cook hasn’t yet made him the correct runny eggs, but it’s like he spends the week learning new ways of preparing eggs to piss my date off.

My question is — this is weird, right? Like, I’m not really concerned about the fighting part — he’s never been physical with me and I never once felt threatened by him — but what’s with the obsession ? They’re just eggs, aren’t they?

Is this indicative of something deeper? Should I reconsider going exclusive with this guy?

 +

 When Nami looks up from her map this time, Zoro has already stalked off to the kitchen. This isn’t new or remarkable in any way, except the fact that he almost ran into one of the waitresses, who immediately clutched her tray against her chest and watched his retreating back warily.

Zoro didn’t even spare her a glance. What a brute. Nami’s going to add to his debt later for that.

“Hey,” Nami calls out towards the waitress, waving at her to come by her table, “I’m sorry, uh…” 

“Vivi,” the waitress fills in with a polite smile.

“Right, Vivi—I’m Nami,” Nami replies, finding herself nervous all of a sudden, because up close like this, holy fuck is the waitress so pretty, with long blue hair and silver-sharp eyes. Nami clears her throat. “Uh, I just want to say sorry about his—his whole deal with your Cook. Zoro—that’s his name—he’s usually really chill, so I don’t know what’s happening here.”

Vivi thankfully chuckles at that, seemingly finding the situation more hilarious than threatening. Good. There’s also something about that laughter that makes Nami feel like she’s fourteen again, full of butterflies and all too small for everything, but she tries not to think too hard about that yet.

“In your friend’s defense,” Vivi says, “Sanji is usually really good with memorizing orders, so he’s totally messing with your friend on purpose.”

As if on cue, the cook’s voice—Sanji’s—rings out from the kitchen. “YOU’RE NOT SUPPOSED TO BE HERE, MOSSHEAD, I TOLD YOU THE KITCHEN’S OFF LIMITS FOR CUSTOMERS —”

Nami finds herself laughing with Vivi. “You know, it’s actually impressive that Zoro doesn’t get lost on his way to the kitchen anymore.”

Vivi raises her eyebrow. “Nami, the kitchen door is right there.”

“It’s Zoro,” Nami presses, because it’s always fun to see strangers learn about Zoro’s disastrous relationship with directions and maps for the first time. “One time, during our junior high sports festival, he got lost on the running track. For a hundred-meter race .”

That earns her another laugh from Vivi as she takes a seat beside Nami, body leaning forward in curiosity, “really? Is he short-sighted or something? Can’t he just—I don’t know, literally see the finish line?”

“Here’s the thing you need to know about Zoro,” Nami begins, and watching the way Vivi’s soft hair falls over the slope of her shoulder, bright blue and blinding despite the dim lighting of the diner, Nami somehow can’t find it in herself to be mad at Zoro anymore.

 +

 u/salveshine • 492 points  6 months ago

This seems like an obvious question, but I have to ask: have you considered going somewhere else for your dates? Most people don’t go to a diner for dates in the first place.

/u/throwawaypinwheel • 23 points  6 months ago

Well, as I said on the original post, it’s downright an obsession at this point. Asking him to go somewhere else doesn’t solve the problem since he’d just go there on his own on a different day.

Also, the waitress there is nice. She’s been keeping me company throughout this whole thing. She’s a godsend.

 +

 Vivi appears by her table as soon as Zoro disappears into the kitchen.

“Again?” Vivi asks by way of greeting.

“Again,” Nami agrees, scooting to the side of her bench to give Vivi space to sit. “It’s eggs benedict this time. Perfectly poached. I went to this fancy restaurant a few weeks ago, and they didn’t even make it this good.”

Somewhere from what presumably is the kitchen, Zoro’s frustrated voice echoes throughout the whole diner. “Now you’re not even serving me eggs anymore!”

“What are you—“ there is a moment of stunned silence before Sanji‘s reply comes, equally loud, dripped with utter disbelief. “Are you fucking serious? You thought this wasn’t made of—you’ve never seen scotch eggs before?”

“SHUT UP,” Zoro yells back.

Nami cranes her neck out of instinct, wishing to catch a glimpse of the scene from the window behind the counter—she’s never heard Zoro sounding so flustered before—but Vivi’s voice, small and low and far from the confident tone Nami has started to get used to, pulls her attention back.

“I’m sorry.”

It takes another moment before the words fully register in her brain. “Wh—for what?”

“I mean,” Vivi says, twiddling with her fingers as she mumbles, “this is supposed to be your date.”

“My date?” The question already falls out of her mouth before she realizes, oh. Oh. This is supposed to be a date, because her and Zoro are…well. Sometimes she doesn’t even remember that part—they’re certainly not acting the part, considering they’re hanging out with other people during these ‘dates’. Nami understands, rationally, that she should be mad about this; and yet— “It’s fine. I’m not that bothered.”

Vivi blinks. “You’re not?”

“Nah,” Nami says, waving her hand dismissively, feeling as surprised as Vivi looks. “Well, when it comes down to it, it’s still free food, you know? Could’ve been better—no offense, but a family diner isn’t exactly date material—but considering the menu and ingredients you guys have to work with? Sanji’s practically been making feasts fit for royalty here.”

“Well, I still think you deserve to be treated better during a date,” Vivi crosses her arms and—is that a pout on her face? “Don’t you feel a bit lonely?”

“No?” Nami replies, taken aback. That’s literally the furthest thing on her mind, because— “I have you, don’t I?”

Nami feels her face heat up as soon as the words left her mouth, because that sounded way more presumptuous than she intended. She meant to say, I have you to keep me company , like a friend , in a totally friend platonic way. Except they were talking about dates in a decidedly very romantic way and she should totally take it back—

Vivi beams at that, the kind that makes her look like she’s glowing inside her skin, and never mind, Nami’s not taking it back. Nope. She’s never taking it back even if someone’s paying her a million berries to take it back.

Vivi takes Nami’s hand from the table and holds it in both of her own, and Nami’s heart trips in her chest.

“Yeah,” Vivi says, the words sending a low hum under Nami’s ribcage. “Yeah, you have me.”

 +

 /u/mettlemental • 301 points  5 months ago

This is their ritual. Do not interfere.

/u/throwawaypinwheel • 279 points  5 months ago

You know what, I think you have a point. This thing between me and the waitress is also a ritual now, so we’re even.

 +

 “Shishishi!” Luffy laughs, eyes practically sparkling. “Sanji is so cool!”

“No he’s not!” Zoro pinches Luffy by the cheek to try to drag him away from Sanji. “I brought you here to defend me!”

“But Sanji’s the one making me delicious meat right now,” Luffy pouts, seemingly unperturbed by the potential disfigurement of his own face, gaze still rooted on Sanji—or, more specifically, the food Sanji is carrying on a tray. “What can you make, Zoro?”

Sanji lights up his cigarette, expression hidden behind his hands, but his whole body visibly puffs up like a peacock. Nami notices how the tips of his ears have turned red. “Finally, someone with taste.”

Zoro tries to grab the tray away from Sanji’s hand, and Nami watches Vivi masterfully maneuver between the messy cacophony of the trio, placing a tall stack of waffles in front of Chopper.

“This doesn’t make me happy at all!” Chopper says, his words nowhere near convincing, considering he’s saying it with the largest grin Nami has ever seen on a fourteen-year-old. “Did Sanji make this one, too?”

“He did,” Vivi says as she takes a seat beside Nami, as she always does. The table settles into a comfortable silence as Chopper digs into his waffles and Vivi absentmindedly plays with the salt shaker, observing the idiot trio from a distance.

“They sure get along fast,” Nami says as she takes out her cartography tools, and Vivi’s gaze sweeps between Luffy, Chopper, and the maps on the table.

“You’re not even trying to have a date anymore, aren’t you,” she points out.

“Nope,” Nami agrees, gesturing to Chopper with her pencil. “Chopper here wanted to try the waffle for a long time ever since I told him all about Sanji.”

“Please tell Sanji I love it!” Chopper adds around a mouthful of sugar.

“And Luffy’s been really curious about you two anyways.”

One table away, Luffy took the last bite of whatever meal Sanji just served, and dramatically announces, “this one’s better than the last one!”

“You always say that after every plate,” Sanji mumbles, but shoves another plate towards the kid anyways, clearly preening from the praises.

“It wasn’t even that good,” Zoro adds desperately, and scowls when Sanji chooses to watch Luffy eat another serving with the same gusto like he did the first one. “Oi—don’t ignore me, Shit Cook!”

It’s...fascinating. Nami never had a habit of watching Zoro—those activities are reserved for those fangirls in their university who barely know him—but she finds herself unable to look away whenever they’re at the Baratie. Whenever he’s with Sanji, to be precise. The chef seems to have brought out so many different sides of Zoro she’s never seen before in all the years she’s known him, and that’s saying a lot, considering she’s known Zoro for a decade.

Zoro has always been a steady presence in her and Luffy’s life ever since he moved into their neighborhood when she was shy of turning ten; he is strong-willed and loyal and eternally dependable, like a safe place they can always come back to. He can be a little hard to read, quiet and reserved as he is, but these days Nami knows where to look, the telltales hidden in the way he straightens his back and carries himself.

But with Sanji, Zoro is—he’s all those things still, sure. But he’s also— so much more. There’s suddenly this— kid, lively and boyish and so, so easy to read. Open book, heart on his sleeve. He grins and yells and throws his punches, and Sanji would take them in stride and return them as easily. This Zoro pouts when Sanji doesn’t pay him attention, and scowls when he does; and when Sanji makes him laugh, it’s a loud, open thing.

Sometimes it feels as if the Zoro she knew was an impostor all along. As if there was a pale imitation of Roronoa Zoro with a ghost of a smile, and he’d only come alive in the middle of a fucking diner.

And the worst part of it all is—

“You two?” Vivi suddenly mumbles, seemingly to herself. 

Nami tilts her head. “Yeah?”

“You were saying something about Luffy being curious about… us two ,” Vivi says. There’s an odd, pensive look on her face. “Are you talking about Sanji and…”

“You, of course!” Nami cuts in, perplexed.

“You told your friends about me?” Vivi wonders, and it’s baffling. Of course Nami told her friends about Vivi. Sometimes Nami thinks Vivi is all she could talk about. She’s hilarious and smart and a thousand times more interesting to talk about than Sanji and Zoro combined.

That’s a really weird thing to suddenly spring on someone though, so Nami instead says, “Vivi, you’re the best thing about these weekly visits, because that sure as hell isn’t.”

She’s pointing at the dumbass trio; somewhere along the way, Luffy has seemed to fall asleep, and Sanji is smiling at the boy’s sleeping form, looking very pleased with himself. Zoro is fuming behind him, arms crossed and chest puffed, like a child being forced to share his favorite toy.

Vivi laughs at the sight, shaking her head. “Well, boys will be boys.”

The words bury itself uncomfortably in the pit of Nami’s stomach.

Boys will be boys—which is why sometimes (oftentimes, many times, always) Nami thinks she’s much more easily enamored with girls. Nami supposes there is a certain charm in Zoro’s brutish ways, but she’s beginning to learn that it may not be for her—Nami appreciates people who can hold their own in a fistfight, but there is also strength in reigning yourself in despite the circumstances, the way she’s seen Vivi handle difficult customers with a firm tone, graceful and dangerous at the same time.

(What could this mean, then? For her, for them—)

Zoro and Sanji have started fighting animatedly again. Roronoa Zoro, his heart on his sleeve.

And the worst part is that Nami doesn’t even care.

 +

 /u/sorcatarius • 334 points  4 months ago

I usually appreciate it when OP updates their posts with recent developments because I’m one of those people who get easily invested in a stranger’s life story, but is it just me or do all of these updates seem irrelevant? Most of them are about the waitress. I feel like I’m learning nothing about the actual date here. Who’s dating who again?

/u/NeonRain15• 137 points  4 months ago

OP is clearly a troll lol.

 +

 They are sitting at a corner table in front of the door to the kitchen, because Franky and Robin aren’t even pretending they’re here for the food instead of a show. Usopp told them he would rather ‘see where the danger is coming from ’, but Nami suspects the real reason is something closer to morbid curiosity.

Nami doesn’t fault them. It certainly is hard to look away from what those two clowns are currently doing: Zoro is waving a spatula and a frying pan like he would his kendo swords, clearly breaking several kitchen-related OSHA rules in the process; Sanji puts out his cigarette against the counter—seriously, has nobody here heard of proper kitchen etiquette—and swings his leg in a drop kick.

There’s a loud CLANK as his shoe comes into contact with the pan.

Franky whistles. “That’s super awesome, bro!” He cheers, before turning back to the table with a lower voice, “Seriously, how have they not fired Sanji-bro already?”

“Other than the fact that he’s overqualified as hell?” Usopp asks in between spoonfuls of Sanji’s fried rice.

“Well, they do provide a wonderful source of entertainment for us customers,” Robin observes.

“Sure thing,” Franky replies, “but they’re totally destroying kitchen appliances right now, I mean, look at that roller. There’s no way any normal wood could withstand that —there it goes.”

“Let them be—what’s the worst that could happen?” Robin muses. “Other than a kitchen accident that leads to a gas explosion and the restaurant burning down to the ground, obliterating all of us in the process, of course.”

“Robin,” Usopp squeaks.

Inside the kitchen, the tables have turned—Sanji has somehow regained possession of his kitchen appliances, and he’s now teaching Zoro how to cook. They’re standing shoulder-to-shoulder, heads bent over the stove, and Sanji would occasionally wrap his hand around Zoro’s wrist to instruct him.

Zoro looks like he’s going to spontaneously combust. His eyes are darting between Sanji’s hands (still lightly gripping Zoro’s wrist), Sanji’s face (dangerously close to Zoro’s own), and Sanji’s lips (there’s something there, something he wants to do and Nami knows if she thinks hard enough she can put a name on it) —anywhere but the food they’re actually cooking. Zoro’s own face is now redder than the tomatoes lining up the kitchen counter.

Heart on his sleeve, Nami thinks. Open book, open book.

“I’m going to get some refills,” she announces, suddenly feeling like she’s intruding on something private and practically leaps towards the soda station. She could feel a pair of curious eyes on her back—Robin’s, no doubt—but she’s more distracted by another presence currently standing beside her.

“Hey,” Vivi says, voice light, teasing. She’s carrying a lot of cups on her, presumably the others’, and she bumps her shoulder against Nami’s playfully. Nami could feel the touch fizzle against her skin.

“Hey,” Nami replies, trying to pretend that the close proximity doesn’t bother her at all. “‘Sup?”

Vivi wordlessly helps her with the drinks, and they easily fall into comfortable silence, filling cups after cups, until Vivi nudges her again. “You know, Usopp was right about Sanji being overqualified.”

Nami fills Franky’s cup slower, wondering where the conversation is going. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah. You know, I have a secret,” Vivi says, tone playful, but when Nami looks up there’s something in her eyes. “Actually, I own this place.”

Nami stops filling the cup. “What?”

“I mean, it’s mostly on loan, and I’m not halfway done with the payments, but technically, yeah,” Vivi says, tucking her hair to the back of her ear in a nervous gesture. “I didn’t really want to tell anyone because it’s not like I wanted a special treatment from the patrons. And I am effectively a waitress here.”

Nami is suddenly reminded of all the instances when she called Baratie a no-name diner right to Vivi’s face, and feels her stomach sink. Holy shit, she called it a dumpster fire just last week.

Vivi must have noticed Nami’s mental breakdown, because she quickly waves her hand and laughs. “No, no, don’t worry about it—I know we’re still a work in progress. Especially ever since—”

Vivi trails off at that, suddenly looking unsure. She starts collecting all the cups, like she’s giving Nami a reason to back out of the conversation. “It’s kind of a boring life story, actually, I’m sorry for dumping that all to you out of the blue—”

“Vivi,” Nami says, placing a calming hand on her shoulder. She doesn’t usually do this; she knows, better than most, how heavy one’s past could be, and she hates it when people try to pry into hers. But Vivi is looking at her with sad eyes and unsteady hands, and suddenly Nami wants nothing other than to tell her, “I’ll drop this if you don’t want to talk about it, but remember this: I will always want to know more about you.”

She places her hand on Vivi's arm, for emphasis. “I will always want to support you.”

It takes a moment before her words sink in, and Nami could see the moment it does, Vivi’s eyes widening in surprise as her face breaks into a slow-starting smile. “Thank you, Nami,” she whispers, and it’s almost reverent.

Nami’s gaze falls onto Vivi’s lips, and suddenly it’s become very difficult to maintain a conversation.

She wonders how she’d look now, to an outsider. Flushed face and a stupid smile on her face, hands fidgeting with her own hair. Open book, open book . Could they hear, she wonders, the way her heart is hammering against her ribcage—would they find out—

Robin claps her hands together, snapping Nami out of her reverie. The whole group is already standing by the door, waiting for her, and god, how long have they been talking by the soda station again?

“Perhaps we can take the drinks another day. Time to go home, don’t you think?” Robin suggests. Her tone is light, but her gaze is heavy, and Nami has to resist the urge to curl into herself.

Zoro still stares at the kitchen, oblivious to the tension. “Yeah,” he says, almost in a daze. “ Shit — yeah.”

Shit, indeed.

 +

/u/Lanzifer• 975 points  5 months ago

This is a love story.

 /u/nashdezus • 307 points  3 months ago

I hate to break it to you but I think your boyfriend is in love with the cook. If this is fake you have written one of the greatest gay romances of this generation, if this isn’t fake I dunno what.

 /u/ParkNight • 399 points  3 months ago

Your BF needs to cut to the chase and invite the cook over to your place for some eggs and rough sex.

 /u/Cod3Man • 760 points  4 months ago

He has a crush on the cook & vice versa but they’re both living a lie so they fight because it’s the only way to release the sexual tension. Every different way of cooking an egg represents a different sex act.

 /u/jakubada • 523 points  3 months ago

Girl, not to wish ill will on your relationship, but you should bang that waitress instead.

 +

 “Have you ever heard of Baroque Works?”

Nami pauses. She places her pencil away, knowing that Vivi deserves nothing less than her full attention.

It’s only been a couple of days since the conversation she had with Vivi, but Nami can’t get her mind off of it. She’s been coming to Baratie every single day now after college, and it’s just so convenient that Zoro suddenly refuses to go. It’s simply harder to have Vivi open up when someone else is around, and not because there are other reasons. Like wanting Vivi all to herself. No sire.

She shakes herself out of the dangerous train of thoughts. “Baroque Works? Isn’t that the new restaurant chain down the block? It’s the one that’s taken over that other chain, right? Uh, what was it called—”

“Alabasta,” Vivi supplies, before sighing. “That’s the chain my family used to own.”

Nami blinks. “Wait, you used to own Alabasta?”

Running a diner on her own at her age is already an impressive feat in and of itself, but Alabasta is a whole different beast. It’s a nation-wide chain with dozens of restaurants, and owning the chain is probably equivalent to owning a small empire.

“Oh, no, I mean, my family did,” Vivi quickly adds, ever humble. “It’s not exactly anything impressive. My grandfather ran the business before my father did, and his father was the one who started it—it was passed down the generations, and I was simply born into it.

“As you said, Alabasta went down a few years ago because my father struck a bad deal with a ruthless businessman. It is clear now, in hindsight, that Crocodile was tricking us, but we were naive and perhaps a little too eager to expand. Baroque Works took over, and we were left with the only branch they deemed the least profitable—here.”

“And you renamed it to Baratie?”

“That was Sanji’s idea,” she says, a small smile playing on her lips; it is clearly a much fonder memory than what that businessman—Crocodile—did to her and her family. “At the time, Sanji just moved to Grand Line. His father had a restaurant back in East Blue with the same name, and he told me he would help me build everything back from the ground up. We would borrow the name, acting like we’re a branch of Baratie, and I can rename it back to Alabasta once I can settle all the legalities with Baroque Works.”

Everything slowly falls into place now—the way Sanji is clearly trained to cook dishes much more sophisticated than waffles and scrambled eggs, the freedom he gets to be able to mess around with Zoro, and his close camaraderie with Vivi.

Nami feels a pang of—god, jealousy, if she dares to put a name on it—towards Sanji; for being able to stand by Vivi’s side when she needed it the most. It’s silly, because Sanji has always been kind to her, and it’s not like it was Sanji’s fault that Nami didn’t know Vivi until recently, but the feeling gripped her like a vice anyway, heavy and suffocating.

Vivi seems to have taken her silence wrongly, though, because she looks away, almost shamefully. “You must think this is all stupid.”

“Of course not,” Nami immediately retorts without missing a beat. She thinks of Bellemere, holding her head high despite the judgments from the neighbors. She was alone and penniless, countless doors slammed close in her face just because she was a single mother; but none of that stopped Bellemere from sending Nojiko and Nami to the best school in the neighborhood

So Nami tells Vivi what she has always wanted to tell Bellemere, and what she knows to be true of Vivi, of any women in her life who has never backed down from adversity— “You’re amazing.”

Vivi blinks, cheeks coloring at the words. It takes her a moment before she can reply with a shaky, “Yeah?”

“Yeah? Vivi, you’re—” Nami turns her body to face Vivi fully, grabbing her by the arms, “—you’re the strongest, most hard-working person I’ve ever known. Most people in your shes would’ve turned tails and run.” 

Vivi flushes further. It’s the first time Nami has seen her flustered, really cute, actually. And the fact that Nami is the one who put that expression on her face —

“Are we intruding on something?”

Nami almost jumps from her seat, suddenly feeling like she’s five again, getting caught with her hand halfway into the cookie jar. Vivi is scrambling to her feet from her side, cleaning imaginary dust from her uniform as she stammers, “no, of course not! I’m sorry, sir—sirs , can I take your order?”

Nami looks up to see Jinbe laugh and wave at her, signaling her to calm down. Brook is standing right behind him, giving Nami a small wave. “What do you serve?”

Nami tries to return to her map as Vivi starts rattling off the menu, but Brook—wise, old Brook, with his soft voice and observing eyes, goes, “No Zoro this time around, hm?”

Her pen stills. There’s nothing accusatory in Brook’s voice—he would never, none of their friends would never. But she waits for Vivi to be off with their orders still before replying, arms crossed across her chest almost defensively. “What is it to you, old man?”

She realizes a little too late that it’s an awfully rude response, but Jinbe simply laughs. “Old men, aren’t we, Brook?”

“Certainly older than most,” Brook agrees, eyes shining in mirth, not offended the least. “Hopefully wiser, too.”

“Well, sometimes,” Jinbe says, turning to Nami, “old men like us have the fortune—or the misfortune, some may say—to have loved and lost.”

Nami isn’t quite sure where the conversation is going, but there’s grief carried by Jinbe’s voice, and what comes out is, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s all long past, miss,” Jinbe dismisses, not unkindly. “More importantly, what I’m trying to ay is, you and Zoro might have been looking at the wrong places. Love, that is. But there is time to rectify this—isn’t that what you young people have? Time”

Nami sits still, stupefied.

She has the suspicion that Robin knows, but Robin has always had her ways. For Jinbe to notice? Jinbe, who would rather talk about his fishing trips than to gossip? How obvious has she been?

(Open book, the thought resurfaces, unbidden. Heart on her sleeve—)

“Though, Nami?” Brook suddenly says, snapping Nami out of her own reverie.

She suddenly realizes that it’s just the two of them on the table, Jinbe already wandering around after imparting her with some advices. She clears her throat, trying to get her bearings. “Yeah?”

“I have to disagree with our dear Jinbe, I must say. We have loved and lost, but,” he takes her hand and guides it to rest on her heart.

“To love,” Brook says, voice steady, sure as a day. “Is never a misfortune.”

 +

     r/AmITheAsshole

Realizing I am a lesbian while dating a guy. AITA? submitted 2 months ago by u/throwawaypinwheel

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   Realizing I am a lesbian while dating a guy. AITA?

submitted 2 months ago by /u/throwawaypinwheel

I’m a girl who has gone through a couple of dates with a dude, but I’m falling in love with another girl. Like, I’m having a gay crisis right now. I’m not actually cheating since we haven’t decided to be exclusive yet, but he’s also a childhood friend, so it makes me wonder if this is a dick move? 

To make matters more complicated: my date? Friend? Sort of boyfriend? He seems to have fallen in love with someone else too, and it’s another guy, so he might be gay, too.

Yes, I know bisexuality exists. Can’t exactly speak about him but I think I’m not that, so it’s not like I can suck it up and date him instead. AITA?

  [deleted] • 725 points  2 months ago

Aren’t you the OP of that one viral post from r/relationship_advice about the Baratie cook?

/u/throwawaypinwheel • 2324 points  2 months ago

Yes, and that’s relevant, how?

 /u/alohci • -20 points  2 months ago

LOL you’re clearly a troll. This isn’t r/CreativeWriting, go write your romance novel somewhere else. I’m reporting you to the mods.

 /u/cheesus32 • 1739 points  2 months ago

This is better than most shit on Netflix right now

 /u/veloace • 1641 points  2 months ago

Communication is key, OP. Sexualities aside—which is a topic for another day—isn’t this essentially a case of the two of you wanting different things from the relationship?

 +

 Nami takes a deep breath and checks her phone for the time.

She sees the 1:00 displayed on the screen. Her appointment with Zoro is supposed to be on twelve thirty, which means she’ll have another 30 minutes as Zoro gets lost on the way to Baratie as usual. One hour was his record.

She takes another deep breath and sighs.

This is it. She’s going to tell Zoro the truth.

It’s rare for her, to be so nervous around Zoro, but in her defense, it’s not like there’s an easy way to say, “hey, sorry, this may come out of nowhere but I’m breaking things off between us. Apparently I’m a lesbian and I’m also in love with the waitress at the place where we’re supposed to be going on dates in. It’s not you, it’s me.”

...Nami really needs to work on her delivery.

Her heart stutters in her chest as the automatic door slides open and Zoro walks in with the grim determination of a soldier going into battle. Perhaps Zoro is more perceptive than she’s giving him credit for. She hopes so—it surely will make this whole sort of-break up easier for the both of them.

She has run her line over and over again in her head, but nothing has prepared her to see Zoro sit down across the table, bow down, and says, “I’m sory, but I don’t think this is working out for us.”

She blinks. Wait. Wait—“ You're breaking up with me?”

“Luffy thinks we’re having a fight because we’ve been acting weird around each other ever since we tried out this whole dating thing, and hell, Nami, he’s right—I’ve seen you less now,” Zoro plows on, oblivious to her shock. “And don’t get me wrong, you’re my best friend, and you’re still my best friend, and I want us back. The us that’s, you know, normal. Alsoimightbeinlovewiththecook .”

Oh.

That’s—oh.

Nami is pretty sure her mouth is hanging open stupidly now, but she can’t bring herself to care. “Holy shit,” she breathes, perplexed. “Reddit was right.”

Zoro finally looks up at that. “What’s red—” he seems to take in her expression for the first time since the conversation started, eyebrows furrowing. ‘Wait. You’re not mad?”

“Mad? No, Zoro, god—how could I be when you’re right?” She feels her body slumping into the chair, the weight she didn’t know she’d been carrying has suddenly been lifted. “We are terrible for each other. I have no idea what got us to agree to this.”

Zoro visibly relaxes. There’s amusement in his tone as he suggests, “the copious amount of alcohol?”

Right. They were in the middle of a drinking competition when the idea of a date came up. “You know what, in hindsight, it’s kind of crazy that we got this far with such a stupid idea.”

“I think I was running away,” Zoro admits, eyes unwittingly darting towards the kitchen. “I couldn’t—I had this thing, for the Cook, but I couldn’t bring myself to admit it. So I tried to make you an excuse for my cowardice.” He bows again. “I’m sorry.”

“No, no, dummy, don’t—” she kicks him on the shin, forcing him to stop bowing. “Stop being all bushido on me. I wasn’t any better. I’m—in love with Vivi.”

It’s Zoro’s turn to look at her in surprise. “What, really?”

It’s comforting, in a way, that at least she isn’t so obvious that Zoro would notice. “Yeah. You’re probably too preoccupied with your pretty blond to notice, but I’ve been pretty smitten myself. And I guess I have you and your little crush to thank for dragging me here in the first place.”

Zoro blushes at that, and it’s cute—not in a way that makes her want to kiss him, but definitely in a way that makes her want to tease him until the end days. God, how did it take her so long to realize she never loved him that way?

“‘Dragging” you, huh?” Zoro seems to decide to hone in on that, probably because he could burn himself alive from embarrassment if he keeps talking about Sanji. “This place is that bad for a date?”

Nami throws her head back and laughs. “You’re the worst date ever, Zoro,” she says, in between peals of laughter. “But you’re the best wingman I’ve ever had.”

 +

 “Going on a date again this time?” Vivi asks.

Nami looks at her—really takes her in, her smooth long hair and bright smile and long eyelashes. Holy shit, she’s staring at her eyelashes. She is so fucking gay.

She clears her throat. Focus, Nami. “No, actually, uh, can we talk? Like, super serious.”

Vivi immediately straightens up at that. “Of course. Give me a moment."

She rushes towards the kitchen, probably to tell Sanji that she’ll be occupied for a moment; something pulls inside Nami’s chest at the sight, knowing that Vivi would drop everything to be by Nami’s side.

When Vivi reemerges from the kitchen, she’s no longer carrying the tray and the menu. She takes a seat beside Nami and takes her hand. “Is everything all right?”

“Yeah, kind of, uh,” here goes nothing. “Zoro and I broke up.”

Vivi’s free hand shot up to cover her mouth in surprise. “Oh my god, Nami, I’m so sorry.”

“No, no, don’t be,” she rushes to clarify, before Vivi gets the wrong idea, “I did say we broke up, but that isn’t exactly right—I mean, we were never exclusive, Vivi. And I don’t think we were ever dating for real. Like, we’re gay.”

There’s a beat. “What?”

Okay, so Nami could  have broken the news much more smoothly than that.

“Zoro and I, uh—I’m gay. And Zoro never exactly put a label, but I’m pretty sure he never even dreamed of banging a chick, and—” she squeezes Vivi’s hand. She isn’t sure she’s doing it for Vivi or herself. “I know this is a lot, but I just—I think we were just very comfortable with each other, and since we are man and woman, we somehow thought we should date. Which is dumb, looking back at it, but we’d never fallen in love before.”

She thinks of Vivi—beautiful, fierce, kind Vivi, who carries the world on her shoulders. Vivi, whose smile lights up the whole room. “We didn’t know how different it was going to be, when it’s the real thing.”

Somewhere behind them, she can hear something heavy hit the floor in the kitchen, which means Zoro must have confessed right about now and Sanji must have dropped something from the shock.

Well, at least Vivi hasn’t dropped anything yet. 

“What I’m trying to say is,” she continues, finding newfound courage from the way Vivi looks at her—is that hope in her eyes? “Vivi, you’re the most wonderful, amazing person I’ve ever met, and you’re beautiful and pretty but I like you more than just that.” She takes Vivi’s hand in both of hers now. “Would you go out with me?”

There’s a moment as her words seem to sink in, and Nami feels her blood run cold—what if she read this whole thing wrongly? What if Vivi was straight? What if she was just trying to help out a friend, being the nice person she is?

But then Vivi’s face splits into a smile, soft and golden-warm, the white light of the overhead fluorescence illuminating her almost ethereal-like. “Yes, Nami,” she says, lacing their fingers together, “I would love to go out with you. But only on one condition.”

“Anything,” Nami says without thinking, because it’s true.

Vivi grins, and there’s a teasing edge on her voice as she says, “If you’re asking me on a date in a diner, count me out.”

“Oh my god,” Nami says, finally, finally pulling Vivi in for a kiss, “never again.”

 +

  UPDATE: My (20F) Date (21M) has left me for a Baratie cook (21M)

submitted 3 days ago by /u/throwawaypinwheel

 It’s fine though, I have a girlfriend (18F, beautiful, amazing, doesn’t get into fights with random cooks) now. Yes, it’s the waitress. Yes, you guys have told me so. I’d love to take the L, but I’m the one with a hot girlfriend here, so am I really losing in this scenario?

[birdiefw]

LET ME SHOW YOU | SAM WINCHESTER [SMUT 18+]

Summary: Having been turned on all day, you decide you can’t wait any longer and lead somewhere more private.

Warnings: swearing, teasing, oral (female receiving), impala sex (unprotected but y’all can pretend otherwise)

A/N: It’s been a hot minute since I’ve written an imagine, and technically this one is meant for my Sam Winchester fic on Wattpad so it wasn’t intended to be an imagine, but I figured it could work as one so here it is lmao. Also, destiel is pretty much implied in this, but you’re free to see Dean and Cas however you want. I also edited this, but I apologize for any errors or if it says her/she/birdie (who is my spn oc) instead of you/your/etc!

You felt like your entire body had been set on fire without warning. Your skin was incredibly warm as you tried to remain still, feeling like your body was getting hotter and hotter despite how cold it actually was inside the bunker. Your hair was pushed back so it would stop clinging to your neck/sides of your face, your mind unable to focus on your laptop that was placed in front of you as something else was taking over all of your senses.

You were very aware of the fact that you weren’t alone in the library, twisting and pursing your lips together as you tried to ignore the rampant thoughts that kept popping into your mind every time your gaze flickered over to Sam. But, every time your eyes fell on your husband, you couldn’t help but admire his stunning features, picturing all of the sides you’d seen of him in your many years of being a couple—some of which only made the ache between your legs increase.

You bit her lip when you looked away from him again, trying to force the thoughts aside; you desperately hoped you’d be alone soon.

“Y/N?”

Your head shot up from your laptop that had started dim from your lack of actually doing anything on it in the last few minutes, eyes slightly widened as you looked across at Castiel who was sat in front of you, his bright blue eyes pinned to your features.

“What?” you asked, glancing aside at Sam and Dean who were both staring at you with confusion much like Castiel.

“We were askin’ if you found anything,” Dean said, noticing how your laptop had dimmed.

“Oh, uh, I—no. Not yet, anyways,” you answered with a heavy sigh, briefly glancing towards Sam before your eyes swiveled to Dean and then Castiel.

“Are you feeling okay?” Castiel wondered, curiously tilting his head at you. “You don’t look like you’re feeling well.”

“Thanks, Cas,” you sarcastically said, giving him a fake smile as you folded your arms over your chest and crossed your legs. “I can always count on you for a pick me up, can’t I?”

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean it like that,” he said, a faint frown appearing on his lips.

Sam’s lips turned into a frown, noting that you did look rather pale compared to usual. You looked slightly sweaty, eyes looking more dark than normal. You easily noticed the change in Sam’s expression, quickly shaking your head as you closed your laptop; there was no point in keeping it open, anyways. “I’m fine,” you firmly told him, giving him a look when you saw him shoot you a similar look.

“You sure?” Dean asked, curiously eyeing you from the seat next to you.

“Yes, I’m sure, Dean,” you said, flashing a perky smile on your lips as if it would assure the three men.

Dean shook his head with a small smile appearing on his lips, closing his own laptop. He could tell something was off with you, but knowing Sam wouldn’t let it go, he decided against pushing the subject. “Alright, whatever you say, Y/N,” he said. Then his eyes flickered over to Castiel, nudging his head to the side as he started to stand up from the table. “Come on, you still gotta finish watchin’ Seven.”

Castiel warmly smiled, looking at Sam and you as he stood up from the chair. “Night, guys.”

“Night, Cas,” you and Sam said in unison, smiling back at the angel.

Dean tucked his laptop under his arm, silently nodding towards his brother and you as he waited for Castiel. You and Sam quietly watched them walk away, a grin lingering on your lips until they were gone.

You let out a heavily sigh and leaned your head back, puffing out your cheeks. Sam stood up from his own chair and headed over to you, placing the back of his hand against your forehead. You jumped at the sudden touch, looking at him with wide eyes. “Fuck,” you whispered, letting out a breath of relief as you realized it was only Sam, “You almost sent me into cardiac arrest.”

Sam softly laughed, innocently raising his hands as he sat on the table, peering down at you. You shook her head as you stood up, adjusting Sam’s flannel that you wore over a pair of leggings, pushing the sleeves up to your elbows. “Are you sure you’re feeling okay, babe?” he asked, genuine concern etched on his features as you stood in front of him. “You’re pretty warm.”

You let out a sigh, glancing around to make sure Dean nor Castiel were around at the moment. “I-I’m not sick, I promise,” you said, looking at your husband. “I’m just. . .”

Sam softly gazed at you when she lowered you head, warmly smiling as he lifted his hand to you chin to make you look at him again. “Just what?”

You coyly smiled, a thought suddenly occurring to you. “Let me show you.”

The corners of Sam’s lips tweaked up into a smirk, finally noticing the look that was swirling around in your eyes. ‘I should’ve known,’ he thought to himself, already feeling himself start to grow hot with anticipation. You eagerly took his larger hand in yours, tugging him in the opposite direction of their shared bedroom.

You giddily giggled as you hurried down the narrow halls of the bunker, tugging Sam towards the garage with a devilish smirk appearing on your lips, stealing a glance behind you to make sure that Dean nor Castiel hadn’t left the room for some reason. “You don’t think they have plans to actually go anywhere tonight after their movie, do you?” You asked Sam, carefully walking with your back facing the spacious garage while your intense gaze was pinned to Sam as your warm hand still clutched his in your own.

“God I fuckin’ hope not,” Sam breathlessly replied, eyes lighting up with a rush of excitement as you guided him over to the Impala.

You tugged your bottom lip between your teeth as the two of you came up to the side of the Impala, standing beside one of the back doors as you fully faced Sam, body even warmer than before.

“Well, even if they do. . .” You softly said, trailing one of your hands up one of Sam’s buff arms, fingertips trailing up until they reached his stubbly jaw. Your eyes flickered to his, seeing his usually bright eyes had darkened a few shades as they took in your features. Your smirk instantly widened, peering up at Sam. “They’ll just have to wait.”

“Is that so?” Sam asked in a low tone, taking a few steps closer so you were pressed up against the Impala, your chests almost pressed together as he stood in front of you with his hands softly caressing your hips. “Well, how much longer are you gonna make me wait?”

“I don’t know yet,” you teased, running a few of your fingers along his bottom lip. “You were teasing me all day pretty much with your soft hair, your kissable lips. . .”

Sam darkly chuckled, a mischievous glint sparkling in his eyes as your words made his excitement increase. “Then let me make it up to you.”

You leaned forward in response, Sam quickly bending his head down to connect you lips when she moved towards him. One of your hands automatically went to his shaggy hair, gently tugging on it to elicit a low groan from Sam. You smiled with approval, feeling one of his hands go to your lower back and press your body up against his while the other went to the back of your head, fingers combing through your hair. Your soft lips parted as the kiss became more needy, giving Sam access to explore your mouth like his life depended on it.

Sam’s hand moved from your back and to the handle off to the side, quickly finding it and pulling it open with a grunt. “After you,” Sam panted.

You excitedly grinned and crawled into the backseat, seeing Sam steal a glance around the garage to make sure no one was around before climbing inside as well and closing the door behind him. You eagerly leaned forward, connecting your lips once more as your fingers started to undo the buttons of the flannel Sam wore. Sam grinned into the kiss, assisting you with removing the shirt before carelessly tossing it to the side. Then he broke apart from the kiss, discarding the plain gray shirt he’d been wearing underneath as you started to undo the buttons of the flannel you had on.

Sam reconnected your lips just as she finished unbuttoning it. You giggled, going to shrug it off until one of Sam’s hands stopped you. “Seeing you in my clothes drives me absolutely crazy. . .I wanna see you come undone with it on.”

You let out a shaky breath at his words, lowering your hands. You bit her lip and cupped his cheeks in your clammy hands, firmly kissing him. “I love you,” you told him.

Sam grinned, giving you a quick peck in return. “I love you too,” he murmured, one hand trailing down your sides, stopping along the side of your thigh as his other hand guided you to scoot back more and lay against the back of the leather seat. “And, I wanna show you. . .just how. . .much,” he gruffly said, pecking your cheek, nose, and chin as he spoke.

Your eyes fluttered closed as you sucked in a deep breath, feeling Sam kiss along your neck. “God. . .” You whispered, involuntarily bucking your hips up as one hand gripped his hair again.

“Someone’s eager,” Sam murmured against your hot skin, his hand still caressing her thigh, setting her entire body on fire even more with just a simple touch.

“Please, Sam,” you whimpered, catching his gaze.

Sam slowly moved down your body, reaching for the hem of your leggings. “Wearing a skirt today woulda made this a lot easier,” he said, causing a laugh to erupt from you as he started to tug down your skin tight leggings. You lifted your hips, helping him to discard both your leggings and panties as quick as possible. “But, they don’t show off your ass as well as these do.”

You bit her lip at his words, your heart starting to beat even faster as Sam settled himself between your legs. The corner of his lips were pulled up into a smirk, easing your legs apart with one leg settling over his shoulder and the other over the seat with your foot planted on the ground. Sam’s gaze remained locked on yours as he scooted closer, blowing on you gently. Your head instantly fell back, a gasp escaping your lips.

“I really was turnin’ you on without even touching you, huh,” Sam said, one hand caressing your inner thigh. You merely whimpered in response, lifting your head just in time to see him dive in to your center.

A loud moan escaped your lips as he expertly dragged his tongue through her heat, feeling Sam slip one arm under your leg, keeping her close. “Shit, Sam!” You gasped in pure pleasure, lips parted and brows furrowed as you sat up on her elbows, breathlessly watching him move against you core; he knew just what to do to get you even more turned on and screaming his name. He looked up at you, groaning against you when you bit her lip and leaned your head back again. “Oh, fuck!”

He swirled his tongue through your center, circling around your clit as he fastened his pace. “You’re being more quiet than usual,” Sam said in between licks, causing you to groan at the uneven pace. “Don’t want Dean or Cas to hear how gorgeous you sound?”

“I—please, Sam,” you gasped.

“What was that?” Sam asked, lightly licking at you heat.

You panted, looking at him with desperation. “Please, Sam! Fuck!”

Sam flattened his tongue against your center to give you exactly what you wanted, seeing you close your eyes in pleasure. He got a steady movement, going faster when you started to moan louder. One of your hands reached down, tightly gripping his hair as you moved against his mouth. Sam moaned against you, nearly getting off just by watching you fall apart with only the use of his skillful tongue.

“Holy fuck,” you moaned, eyes screwed shut as you felt herself getting closer and closer. Sam could tell too, fastening his pace as you tightened your grip on his hair, a loud moan erupting from your parted lips as you arched your back. “Sam! Shit, I-I—”

“I got you, baby,” Sam said, knowing you were incredibly close. “I got you.”

With those words, you came against his mouth, your loud moans filling the Impala as Sam continued to suck and lick you through your orgasm. Your grip on his hair loosened while your hips stilled against his mouth, chest rising and falling quickly as your eyes remained closed with complete bliss.

“Holy fuck,” you said after a few moments, opening your eyes when you felt Sam crawl on top of you. You wrapped your hands around his neck, bringing him in for a sloppy kiss without a second thought. He eagerly kissed you back, lowering his body so you were closer together while one of his hands traveled down between your legs.

You gasped against his mouth when his fingers slipped through you, opening your eyes to look at him. “I think it’s your turn now,” you told him, going to reach down to his pants until he shifted to sit up.

“Later,” he breathed out, starting to undo the buttons of his pants. “I just need you.”

You sat up as well, Sam’s flannel sticking to her skin even more than before, but you didn’t mind in the slightest. Your hands quickly moved to help Sam, giggling with joy as he removed his pants and boxers, kicking them off into the floor. Your eyes flickered up to his again, biting your lip. “Can I be on top?”

“Fuck yes,” Sam eagerly said, wrapping an arm around your waist to bring you to his lap without a moment to waist.

You giggled again, looking down at his hard member as you straddled his waist. “Someone sure is excited.”

“Hard not to be when I just watched you get off on my tongue,” Sam replied in a gruff voice, his eyes sparkling as he looked up at you, not just with lust, but also pure love.

You whimpered at that, reaching down and giving him a few strokes. You watched Sam’s eyes flutter close at your gentle touch, lips parting with a breathy moan; you got turned on by his reactions just as much as Sam did with you. You shifted slightly, lining yourself up with him before slowly sinking down.

Your and Sam’s moans filled the Impala at the feeling, Sam’s hands automatically going to grip your waist as he filled you up. Sam bit his lip with anticipation, waiting for you to make sure it was okay to move before he did anything. You leaned forward slightly, planting your hands on Sam’s chiseled chest, starting to move against him as you locked eyes with him.

“Fuuuuck,” Sam groaned, his nails digging into your hips as you slid up and down. “Just like that, baby.”

“I’ve wanted to do this since this morning,” you breathlessly admitted, fastening your pace. You and Sam moaned again, your nails scratching at his chest as you moved your hands up and down his body. Sam loudly groaned at the sensation, thrusting up to meet your movements, making you cry out with pleasure.

“God, I love you so fucking much,” Sam panted, his eyes rolling back as you leaned down and gave attention to his neck. “So fucking perfect.”

You moaned as well, connecting your lips in a messy kiss while Sam’s thrusts got faster. “Fuck. . .” You whispered, “I love you too. . .so so fucking much.”

“Shit, Y/N,” Sam moaned as you nipped at his dampened neck, hands running up and down his abs.

“Faster, baby,” you whispered into his ear, heart beating faster as you and Sam got closer.

Sam grunted, tightening his grip on you as he picked up the pace. You started to lose her own rhythm, your hips shaking as you rode him, your orgasm growing closer and closer. “Sam, I’m. . .”

Sam lurched forward, pulling you further into his lap with your bare chest pressed against his own, the flannel pushed back and exposing your entire chest to him. His hips moved up into you as he hungrily kissed you again, his tongue dominating yours while his hands moved to cradle the back of your head.

Sam grunted, his forehead resting against yours as the Impala rocked back and forth, no doubt making it obvious what was going on inside if anyone were to enter the garage.

You meekly whimpered, feeling the knot in your stomach getting closer to finally snapping. “Sam!” You loudly moaned, many swear words and the repeat of his name getting drowned out as Sam pressed his mouth to yours again. Your hands went to his cheeks, holding him closer while Sam’s orgasm got closer and his fingers gently tugged on your hair. His hips smacked against yours faster, the sound filling the steamy Impala alongside your loud moans. You clenched around him as you came, making Sam groan into your mouth as he came seconds after you.

You pulled apart after a few moments, resting your clammy foreheads together as you finally started to catch your breaths, you still sat in Sam’s lap and his hands in your hair.

You warmly smiled as you locked eyes with Sam, his lips curling into a grin as his dimples poked out as well. “Maybe I should tease you more often, huh?” Sam asked.

You softly laughed, playfully rolling your eyes as you moved your hands to rest them on his damp shoulders. “You could, but two can play at that game, babe.”

“Is that a challenge?” Sam taunted.

You playfully narrowed your eyes, running a hand up and down one of his arms like you were in deep thought. “No, because you and I both know you would lose the first day.”

Sam breathed out a laugh, tilting his head. “Says the one who almost couldn’t wait till we were alone.”

You simply shrugged, a small smirk starting to appear on your lips. “Today I couldn’t,” you said, gently pushing him back down on the seat. Sam’s eyes slightly widened, brows raising. “But you just looked extra sexy and handsome today. You, on the other hand, can hardly keep your hands to yourself when you’re horny.”

“That’s not true,” Sam protested, going to speak again until you moved your hips, causing his head to fall back with pleasure.

You proudly smirked at his reaction, peering down at him. “Tell you what—let’s go again, and if you manage not to touch me, we can do that challenge.”

Sam breathed out a faint laugh, smirking back at you. “As long as you’re okay with not touching me. But, you and I both know that’ll be even harder for you than me.”

“We’ll see about that,” you said, moving your hips again.

Sam let out a shaky breath, gazing up at you as his hands returned to your hips. “Yeah, we will.”

———

A/N: Feel free to leave some feedback or send me some requests!

[cerebralthundering]

Tour II

Let’sa go! Make sure to read part 1 first! This might be the shortest of the 3.

warnings: oral, daddy kink, intercourse, spanking

—-

Josh hovers back over top of you, kissing you hard again as he snakes his one hand down your body until it slides underneath your underwear. You can feel his fingers slide between your wet folds as he groans out. “You’re so wet.”

“Fuck, you’re telling me,” you counter. You started getting wet the moment he touched you since this was something you’ve been craving for so long, but watching him as you sucked him off really got it going. He presses light circles over your clit while applying pressure at the mound with his thumb, exposing you slightly more. Your hands rake through his hair & down his back. Soon he slides two fingers inside, causing your mouth to fall agape & your back to begin to arch. His fingers work inside your walls for a moment before he pulls them back out & completely out of your panties. You give him a confused puppy dog look.

“Don’t worry, kitten. I just want to taste you.” With those words your toes curl in excitement as he hooks his fingers under the waistband & pulls off your underwear. You’re now laying there completely exposed to him on the floor. This is not exactly how you had imagined this to go but you’re definitely not complaining. He moves his body to position himself to get right between your legs. Right before you think he’s going to lower himself down, he pauses & purses his lips. “I have an idea.”

He reaches his hands out for yours. You comply & he pulls you to sit up & then up onto your knees. After that, he lets go of your hands & starts to twist himself to lay on his back in front of you with his head pointing towards you. He then tilts his head back to look at you before gesturing you over to him. “Sit on my face.”

You moan deeply at this suggestion & scoot your way over to him & position yourself over his face. He wraps his arms around your thighs to pull you closer. He begins by just suckling on your inner thighs, making you crave his tongue right where you need it as his fingertips gently press into your skin. “Josh, please…” the desperation dripping from your voice. Finally his mouth moves right where you can feel his hot breath over your core before he gives you a long lick. His touch jolts through your body, making your hips twitch, your stomach muscles tense, & breath hitch. He applies pressure with his tongue right over your clit before taking it to suck on with his lips pressed around. You twitch & moan as your breathing increases as he begins lapping you up. You feel his tongue move down to your entrance to tease circles at momentarily. He’s really starting to get you going before he stops. He pulls you back from his face just enough to speak, “Turn around.”

With his command, you do just that. You lift your leg over him & turn to face the other direction. “Much better. I wanna be able to watch your beautiful face as I eat you out. Also don’t be afraid to really ride my face,” he tells you before wrapping his arms again around your thighs & pulls you back down. This direction you can also wrap your fingers in his hair & watch the focus in his face so it’s definitely a win-win for both of you.

He goes back to working his mouth on you as you start slowly grinding your hips as you grip lightly on his hair. You can see him occasionally look up at you, watching as you bite your lip & how your eyes are almost closed as you focus on every touch while dropping expletives. After a minute he unhooks one of his arms from around your thigh & reaches underneath to slide two fingers inside you, making you groan out as your mouth falls open & your back arches as you buck his face. You can feel him curling his fingers inside you, reaching for your g-spot. He starts sucking harder at your clit, occasionally swirling his tongue around it like he’s french kissing it, & pumping his fingers faster. The multiple feelings of pleasure is making your head spin. You’ve never had anyone work you like this. You are literally like a wind up toy, getting tighter with each passing moment.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum, daddy,” you cry out as you tighten the grip on his hair & grind your hips faster, your legs now beginning to quake as your breathing steadily increases & becomes almost erratic. The heat is brewing deeply in your lower stomach, feeling yourself getting close to the edge. Your words make him grip his one hand tighter on your thigh & moan out vibrations to your core as he looks up at you before muffling out, “Come for me, kitten.” He pulls his fingers out just long enough to add a third, really working you fully now as you breathlessly cry out. “Fuck!” you scream. He releases one more wave of vibrations before finally pushing you over the edge. He keeps you pulled down tightly, working your orgasm out completely until you untense & slow down.

You raise yourself just a little to give him some breathing room as you try to catch your breath yourself. His arm is still wrapped around thigh very lazily as the other rests on the floor. After his breathing has normalized, you lean back so you’re sitting on his chest. You look at his face - flushed, wet & shiny. He then licks his lips before taking the three fingers he used & sucks seductively on each one, tasting every last bit of you. You sit there in awe, watching him with his eyes half lidded tasting you. “I knew you’d taste good.”

Now that you’ve both had the chance to catch your breath, you graze your fingertips down his sweaty chest, biting your lip innocently, before looking down at him & speaking, “Now there’s only one more thing you need to do.”

He moves to position himself back up to face you on his knees & begins to go push you back down on your back on the floor before you stop him. He furrows his brows in confusion before you answer, “I have a better idea.” You start shifting up again & then turn around so you’re on all fours with your ass facing him. You turn your head around to look at him while giving him a smirk & wiggling your butt at him. He moans in approval while giving your ass a swat, making you yelp.

“One sec,” he interrupts. He starts moving over to his bunk & you hear him rustling around in a bag before he pops his head back out & holds up a condom. He quickly tears open the wrapper & then slips it on before steadying himself behind you. He gives your ass another smack before rubbing it over. “How much do you want this?”

You groan before answering, “I don’t want this. I need this, daddy.”

“Tell me how bad you need this,” he demands while spanking you again as he starts teasing you by rubbing the head of his cock right against your entrance.

“Ugh, I need this so bad. I need your cock filling up my wet pussy. I need you pounding me hard as you pull my hair. I need you smacking my ass as you push me to the edge.” You can feel his grip on your hips tightening with each word as you try to push your ass back towards him, begging him with both your body & words. “Please…”

And with that, you feel him enter you so quickly you barely have time to adjust, causing you to cry out as he fills you up as you dig your nails into the carpet. His pace already starting out fast, bucking his hips forcefully. Your head falls down for a moment before you feel him grab a hold of your hair, pulling it back up. “Keep your head up.” Your senses are so overloaded you can barely see straight. You still can’t believe this is real & it’s even better than you ever imagined. You think the grip he has with his other hand on your hip might even leave bruises. You can hear him breathing hard & moaning with each thrust, pulling your hair back with each one. He’s fucking you with the intensity he gives while playing the drums & you know you won’t last long.

“Fuck, I’m already close!” you whine out. You can feel your legs starting to shake. You go to try to drop your head again unintentionally but he pulls you quickly back up.

He smacks your ass swiftly before leaning his body forward to get closer to your ear & asking, “Is my good kitten going to cum for daddy? Is she going to make a mess all over daddy’s cock?” His breath heaves between every few words as he continues thrusting hard into you. The sound of skin slapping skin is loud even through the various moans, groans, cries, & expletives. Your head is still instinctively trying to fall but unable. Your nails are latched so deeply into the carpet you can feel the hard surface underneath.

“Yes…” is all you can manage to express as you’re beginning to see stars. As if you weren’t already on sensory overload, he moves his hand from your hip to your clit to rub at to really push you over the edge. You have literal tears of pleasure seeping from your eyes at this point. You can’t even create coherent thoughts, let alone words, so only sounds are coming out. A couple more thrusts & you’re pushed to your climax. You scream out as your walls clench tightly around him. He loudly grunts as he finally reaches his climax as well, making him pull back on your hair even harder & grip your hip tighter. He sloppily continues thrusting to milk both of your orgasms until the end.

Once he’s done, he stops still inside you for a moment to catch his breath. His hand is steadying himself on your lower back briefly before he finally lets go of your hair, your head finally able to hang. He then pulls out & takes off the condom, tying it & tossing it in a nearby trash can. You feel like if you try to move much you might just collapse, so instead you lay yourself down your side. He takes a cue from you & lays on his opposite side so he’s facing you.

“That was fucking amazing,” he purrs as he reaches his hand out to tuck the hair out of your face. Both of your faces are flushed & sweaty but glowing as you smile at each other in bliss.

“I 100% agree. I don’t think I can move yet, & I kinda don’t want to anyway,” you state while reaching your arm out to wrap around his waist, attempting to pull him closer. He scooches towards you more so your bodies are right against each other & wraps his arm around you. You lift your leg up over him & you both just lay there silently, taking each other in, before dozing off.

—-

Who knows how much long later, you wake up groggily. You look around with hazy vision & that’s when it hits you that you both are still lying here on the floor naked. You start quickly jostling to get up, waking Josh up. He groans with his eyes still closed & asks, “What’s wrong?”

“Josh!” you loudly exclaim. You’re quickly putting your bra & underwear back on as he finally opens his eyes to look at you, now standing. It still hasn’t hit him yet so you gesture around the floor area & then towards Jenna & Tyler’s room. That’s when he ultimately gets it & his eyes widen as he now rushes to get up, gathering clothes off the floor. “Shit!” You freeze for a moment & hold out a hand prompting him to do the same so you can try to hear if they were back already or not. It’s dead silent & you think certainly if they had returned you would’ve noticed & they would’ve said something. Once you realize you’re still safe, you see him go to grab his shirt off the floor before you reach out & steal it from him & slip it on over your bra & underwear while giving him a content smirk. He smiles at you while checking you out, moving to run his fingertips along your hips. “You look much better in it,” he confirms. He starts slipping his fingers underneath before you stop him. “As much as I’d love for you to continue, we need to hurry up before they get back,” you explain. He sighs in agreement & goes to toss his jeans in his bunk & grabs a pair of basketball shorts instead to put on as you toss your jeans in yours.

“Stay with me…” you plead as you reach out your hand for his. He places his hand in yours as you begin climbing into your bunk before he enters behind you. He pulls the curtain closed before cuddling up behind you. His calloused but soft hand rest on your stomach as you let out a content sigh & hold onto it. This is real.

[harrysweasleys]

a little more touch my body // b.b

summary: babie!!! hi!! may i please request a fic based on into you by ariana grande pls? i'll leave the rest up to you, please surprise me (you can also choose if you want to write it for sam, steve, or bucky) thank you so much !!! <3

warnings: lil bit of sexy times, fatws spoilers if you haven’t watched, mentions of alcohol (beer), language 

word count: 2.7k

a/n: i chose to write this for bucky!! hope you all enjoy!

“Well, don’t you two look like a sight for sore eyes?” 

You huffed out a laugh at your own comment as you stepped down onto the boat, making sure to grip the ledge behind you to avoid losing your balance as the structure bobbed against the tides. 

Sam and Bucky sat looking exhausted, each with a beer in their hand, faces slick with sweat and grease. You could nearly smell them from here. 

“Where were you all afternoon? Said you’d help,” Bucky raised an eyebrow as he looked you up and down, beer bottle against his lips as he took another sip. As if he knew what he was doing, he leaned his arm back behind him, muscles and tanned skin glistening under the late afternoon sunlight. You peeled your eyes away from the sight just in time to catch the end of his question.

You placed your hands on your hips, giving him a grin, “Sorry to ditch, I was in town with Sarah picking up some stuff. But clearly, I’m devastated that I couldn’t be here to get all gross with you guys.”

Part of you was rather bummed you missed the action. You’d have loved nothing more than to be working alongside Bucky, both of you working up a sweat and sneaking in little touches here and there while Sam looked the opposite way. Little touches that would never really amount to more, but were fun in the moment. 

You couldn’t count how many weeks — no, scratch that — months, that you and Bucky had been building up this tension. The winks across the room, the lingering touches when you walked by one another, the inappropriate innuendos and jokes when no one was around. Except that one time that you thought no one was around and ended up subjecting poor Sam to your crude jokes over your earpiece. 

It was torture, but the best kind. Bucky knew exactly how to wind you up, and vice versa. Did you ever think this would amount to more? Probably not. You had overheard countless conversations between Buck and Steve about how he wasn’t ready to take a step towards intimacy just yet. Not so soon after regaining his mind and coming back from five years out of extinction, to be more specific. 

You couldn’t blame him, though. And you weren’t going to push for more. Not if it made him uncomfortable. No, for now, you were having a blast bubbling up the sexual tension. 

“I see that,” Sam motioned his bottle in your direction, “This is an act of betrayal, I hope you know.” 

You rolled your eyes, sitting down between the two. The wooden surface was boiling under your legs, so you lifted your knees to keep your skin from burning. 

“Oh, drama queen,” you grumbled, reaching your hand towards the cooler. You hadn’t done much physical work today, but the weather was still impossibly hot and a nice cool drink would help for sure. 

As soon as you lifted the cooler lid, it came slamming down. 

“Buck, what the hell—,” you turned your gaze to the super soldier, a small smirk on his lips. 

“Cool drinks are for the workers, sorry,” he was clearly fighting a shit-eating grin, much to your annoyance. His hand was gripped tightly around the cooler lid, thumb brushing against your own skin. 

“You two are going to drink all six?” you scoffed, tilting your head to the side as if challenging him. 

He raised his eyebrows and nodded his head, pulling his hand away from yours and taking another sip of his beer as if emphasizing his point before speaking, “I think you forget how high my tolerance is.” 

“Ah, of course,” you nodded slowly, “How could I forget? Silly me.”

Bucky shot you a wink, leaning back against the edge of the boat. The angle of the sun was hitting him perfectly and you wondered if the heavens above were testing you. The dark blue of his shirt accented his eyes, shining brightly as they looked you over. His dark hair had a few natural highlights — probably thanks to spending nearly a week here under the Louisiana sunshine. 

He was so distracting you nearly forgot Sam was behind you until Sarah called his name. 

“Sam, can you help me out for a second?” her voice was distant over the sound of the water hitting the boat and your own heart beating a million miles an hour. 

He stood up with a grunt, following after her. And leaving you and Bucky alone. 

“Just a sip?” you asked, eyes darting back to the cooler before meeting his again, “I’ll take one little sip and then you can have the rest of the bottle.” A fake pout made its way to your lips and you had to fight a smirk at the way his eyes darted down to watch before snapping back up to yours. 

“Nope,” he popped the p, giving you another wink. As he brought the bottle back up to his lips, you scooted closer to him, reaching your hand out and taking it out of his grasp before it could reach his lips. 

“What—,”

Before he could finish his sentence, you brought the bottle to your lips, giving him a wink before taking a rather large sip. The taste wasn’t great — it was the cheap beer that you guys had picked up yesterday at the corner store — but you were just trying to rile him up. You hadn’t really wanted the drink that badly.

Bucky’s eyes were practically glued to you. You could swear he didn’t even blink as you maintained eye contact, handing him the bottle back with a small wink. 

His tongue slid out to wet his lips, suddenly fidgety under the sun. You internally pat yourself on the back, but you didn’t show it. Instead, you maintained a steady staring contest with Buck, not sure who was going to crack first. 

God, your heart was beating so fast. Your skin was so warm. You could feel the back of your neck begin to sweat and you could swear that your hands were just as clammy. How did you ever get anything done around this man before? 

“I feel like I’m interrupting,” Sam — curse him and his horrible timing — stepped back onto the boat, causing it to sway a bit under his steps. 

“What? — It’s — we’re fine,” Bucky stuttered with a hoarse voice, clearing his throat as if you hadn’t noticed. Once again, an internal pat on the back. 

“Yeah, okay,” Sam chuckled, “Whatever you guys say. Just keep it PG around my nephews.”

You should be embarrassed by Sam’s jabs, but you couldn’t really bring yourself to feel that way. Instead, you were only focused on how close Bucky was to you. You could smell him — he didn’t smell too great right now, to be honest — but that wasn’t the point. Publicly, you guys never really sat or stayed close to each other. It was more professional if you guys didn’t show whatever was happening between the two of you, really. 

But now, relaxed and away from danger, you were both letting your guard down. Sam was sitting across from you, poking fun, but neither of you scooted away from the other like you usually would. It was nice, you thought. This little sense of normalcy. Feeling like you were just two adults insanely attracted to each other instead of two busy Avengers on a break. 

You brought yourself back to the moment as you stood up, giving them both a little smile, “I’ll give you guys some guy time, I’ll go help Sarah with dinner.”

Sam gave you a little wave, Bucky keeping his mouth shut as you made your way off the boat, holding onto the little railing as you made your way back onto land. You pulled your shirt down, covering the little bit of your stomach that had been exposed while scooting closer to Bucky. 

Shaking your head and trying to un-rile yourself, you made your way over to the Wilson household, a small skip in your step as you did so. 

The lasagna and garlic bread that you and Sarah collaborated on went down quick — unsurprisingly, since Sarah had more tips and tricks in the kitchen than you could possibly hope to count — and before you knew it, you were bidding everyone goodnight. 

Your pull out couch in the basement was calling your name and normally you couldn’t wait to get under the covers and snooze right off. Except tonight, as soon as you got under the covers, you felt wide awake. 

Bucky was in the other room, a small door separating the both of you. You didn’t usually talk after everyone had gone to bed, not wanting to wake anyone up or prevent either of you from getting the proper sleep, but tonight you couldn’t help it. You were practically itching to go over and see him, and you doubted you’d get any sleep if you didn’t. It was like a magnet was pulling the two of you together and the harder you pulled away, the stronger the tug was.

You slipped on a pair of socks after getting out of the bed, the fresh air of the basement hitting your body like a gentle embrace. It had been stupidly warm under the blankets just moments before, so the coolness was very much welcome against your skin.

Your footsteps were muffled by the carpeted floor as you made your way to the door separating you both, knuckles gently knocking against the wood before you could take a second to think about what you were doing. If Bucky was asleep, you’d just be waking him up, and that wouldn’t be very nice, would it? However, if he was awake, what would you even say? 

“Yeah?”

Bucky’s voice was soft on the other side of the door, and the creaking hinges broke the beautiful peace as you opened it up, eyes struggling to see in the dark. A small lamp was lit on Bucky’s bedside table, his own blankets tossed off the bed as he sat on the edge. He wore a pair of Sam’s pyjama pants — which you had teased him about a couple of times now — but he wasn’t wearing a shirt. That fact alone was enough to get you to stumble on your own two feet.

“Were you sleeping?” you asked, trying to keep your voice as quiet as possible. You remembered Sarah mentioning the basement ceiling wasn’t properly insulated and voices very easily carried throughout the house.

“No,” he replied, eyes meeting yours in the comfortable darkness of the room. You suddenly felt awfully nervous under his gaze, picking at your fingernails as you leaned against the doorframe.

“Okay, that’s good,” you nodded awkwardly, mind still completely blank on whatever it was that you wanted to say. Bucky didn’t seem to mind the awkward silence, though, his eyes scanning over your body slowly just to make sure you were alright.

“I don’t really know why I’m here,” you admitted, finally picking your gaze up off the floor to look at him. His lips curved up into a small smirk and he patted the spot next to him on the bed. Trudging over slowly, you could feel the temperature in the room rise up by what felt like a thousand degrees before you finally sat next to him. He smelled better this time — thanks to the shower that you were so tempted to hop in on — and you could feel the comfortable warmth of his skin next to you as the mattress dipped under your weight.

“That’s okay,” he replied after a good long moment, “You don’t have to have a reason.”

You sat facing him, close enough that you could see the steady rise and fall of his chest, his skin holding a warm glow in the cozy atmosphere of the room. He was so painfully beautiful that you didn’t think words could capture the image. 

Feeling awfully brave, you slid one of your hands over to his, your warm fingers sliding against the coolness of his vibranium ones. You knew he couldn’t feel your touch, but he shivered anyway, causing you to slide your hand a little closer to his actual skin. His hand reached quickly across and grabbed yours, intertwining your fingers together. Your head fell against his shoulder, resting your forehead against the spot where skin met metal. Without thinking, you lifted your head and pressed a kiss against the same spot, immediately regretting it when you felt his entire body tense up.

“Sorry — I don’t know what I was thinking,” you stuttered, pulling away. 

Before you could get too far, you felt both of Bucky’s hands slide around your waist, tugging you onto his lap in an effortless motion. Your thighs landed on either side of him — practically straddling him — and your chest was nearly flushed against his. His forehead fell against yours and you swore you could hear his thoughts. The internal battle he was having with himself on how far he was willing to take this.

You brought one of your hands up to his hair, raking your fingernails against the sensitive skin at the base of his neck and watched his shoulders sag as he let out a sigh. How you two could go from being ready to rip each other’s clothes off on the boat to this, being intimate and close without having done anything yet, you’d never understand.

His hands slid under your pyjama top, gripping your waist in a way to let you know he wasn’t planning on letting go. And you were more than okay with that.

“Buck,” you whispered, the words hanging in the air before he pulled his forehead away from yours and met your lips with his. His kiss was hot — heavy, and you could feel just how much he had been holding back. He gripped you tight, making sure you felt exactly how badly he wanted this. And you felt the same, hands on either side of his face as you pressed your lips and body against his. 

You guys went from having an intimate, gentle touching moment, to having a battle of teeth and tongues within thirty seconds. He let out a low groan as you tried to get closer to him, rocking your hips against his. You hadn’t totally done it on purpose, your goal mostly just to be as close to him as possible, but you weren’t regretting the action one bit. 

His hands slid further up your shirt until it was tugged off of your body, breaking the feverish kiss for one quick moment before reconnecting at full force. Your mind was blank, numb, but your belly was erupting with every butterfly in existence as he slid his hands around your exposed torso. You didn’t even register the coolness of the metal — too focused on how hot you felt at the moment. He was grabbing at every bit of you that he possibly could, and you were doing the same to him.

For someone who probably didn’t do much self care, his skin was beautifully soft under your touch, hands sliding smoothly down his back and chest as you continued to kiss the life out of each other. It was intoxicating and you swore you’d be addicted to him after tonight.

He somehow managed to flip the both of you over so that he was hovering on top of you, using his forearms to hold himself up as his lips trailed sloppy kisses down your jawline, your neck, to your collarbones. Everything he did just felt so good, so right, that you could hardly remember where you even were at the moment.

Your eyes fluttered shut as he continued down on his path, leaving kisses in every possible spot that was available.

There was no way in hell you were returning to your own bed tonight.

[melancholyshadow]

sunday’s with a solider || b. barnes

part one 

summary: after a good date with bucky, (y/n) figures out who she’s really getting involved with. 

pairing: bucky barnes x female!librarian!reader 

warnings: kissing (??), swearing

an: im honestly speechless, the first part of this series has 150+ notes! i’m so happy you guys liked it! i’m debating on make this a three or a four-part series, please let me know what you think, but there will definitely be at least another part. one of the next, or the next, will include some spice, if you know what i mean. and who do y’all want me to write about next? im thinking mr. steve rogers. 

tags: @biixlv​

“Please tell me you’re a booth person and not a table person.” You chuckled, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Uh, yeah.” He laughed and rolled his eyes at you. He began walking towards one of the booths. You followed happily behind him, scooting into the opposite side of the booth. He pulled off his hat and both his gloves, setting them on the seat next to him. You propped your head on the palm of your hands, stopping yourself from looking at his metal hand, you weren’t even sure if it was metal.

The diner was one that had been in this town for, at least, forty years, and it definitely showed its age. It was trying to be a ‘retro diner’ in the eighties, so that aged it another thirty years. You grew up coming here with your family, the food was good, and you thought the inside was cute. The building was longer than it was wide, and the floor reminded you of a checkerboard. There was a long bar on the left, space for waiters to maneuver, and a long panel of metal enclosing the kitchen portion. Bright red bar stools were implemented into the floor, screwed into the floor, every two feet or so. On the right, were five or six booths, the same shade of red as the bar stools, big enough for about four people max. 

“Hey, sugar!” A familiar voice chirped to your left. Your eyes met a familiar pair of green ones, and a smile immediately filled your face. “Hey, Mabel!” You cooed, half-standing under the table and wrapping your arms around her small, fragile frame. She smelled like coffee and smoke, as she always did. The two of you pulled away, and her eyes instantly went to Bucky. “Who's your friend?” She asked, raising her eyebrows at you. “Mabel, this is my friend James. James, this is Mabel.” You explained, quickly introducing the two. He smiled at her and stuck out his ‘normal’ hand to give her a handshake, which she was very fond of. 

“Well, it is great to meet you, James! What can I get you to drink?” She had abandoned her notepad well before you were born, her ability to just remember someone’s order still amazed you. “Coffee please, no sugar or creamer please.” She smiled at him, and turned back towards me, “Regular for you, dear?” She asked, and you smiled, scrunching up your eyes and nose. She practically pranced away with a huge smile on her face. Bucky chuckled, pulling you from your thoughts, turning your head back towards him. His eyes were scanning over the faded laminated menu.

“How do you know Mabel?” He asked, looking up and unzipping his jacket, pulling it off his abdomen and onto the seat beside him, with his gloves and hat. “I grew up coming here with my family, she’s known me since I was in my mother’s stomach.” You explained, pointing to a picture above the bar. It was pretty faded after sitting in direct sunlight for over two decades, but it was a picture of Mabel, your mom, your dad, and you, you all had on party hats. “I had my first ten birthdays at this diner.” Bucky squinted his eyes and smiled once he made out the picture of baby you. 

“That’s awesome.” He said looking back at you. He opened his mouth to say something else, but Mabel cut him off. “Here is that coffee, Mr. James.” She slid the coffee in front of him, “And a regular for you, (Y/M/N).” She wiped her hands on her apron, “What can I get you two to eat?” Bucky looked at me, wanting me to order first. “We’ll both take the ‘67.” You smiled. She copied, “You got it, dearie.” And she walked away. Bucky cleared his throat, “Just trust me, Bucky,” You chuckled, placing your hands on top of his, “You’re gonna love it.” He paused for a moment, “I’ll hold you to that.” He winked at you. Did he just wink at you? Was he flirting? You immediately shot back at a wink and a flirty response, “Deal.”

The two of you ate and chatted for about an hour and a half. “Okay, you were right, that was the best food I’ve ever had.” He said, stacking your plates and utensils together, making it easier for Mabel when she took them off the table. “Can I get you two anything else?” She asked, picking up the two plates with ease. Bucky looked at you and you nodded a ‘no,’ and he looked back at Mabel, “No thank you, ma’am, but I will take the check.” He smiled. 

“No, Mabel, split the check pl-” But Mabel cut you off, “Sorry, dear, my hearing aid died, I can’t quite hear you. I’ll bring that check right to you, Mr. James.” Quickly walking away. “Bucky, no, I will pay for mine.” You insisted, going to reach for your purse. You looked around you in your seat in a panic, and then you remembered, it was in the saddlebag attached to his bike. He laughed at you as you came to that realization. “You did that on purpose, didn’t you?” You sighed, taking a sip of your drink. He simply shrugged and smiled, pulling his wallet out of his back pocket. 

Once Mabel returned with the bill and Bucky’s card, the two of you stood, and he let you walk out first. It was a lot colder now, goosebumps layered your exposed arms, like a reflex you wrapped your arms around yourself. “Here, you take this.” He insisted, placing his heavy leather jacket on your shoulders. “No, I can't, you're gonna get cold too.” You began to shrug it off, but he placed his hands on your shoulders, stopping you. “I’ll be fine.” He smirked at you, his hands lingering for a little longer than normal. 

“Ready?” He asked as he straddled his bike, once more. You stuck your arms through the long sleeves, which went way past your fingertips. You took your seat behind him, and he handed you the helmet, and you slid it over your head. Similar to earlier, you snaked your arms around him, clasping your hands together, and resting around his mid-abdomen. His hands, once again, landed on your thighs, pulling you even closer to him, making a different type of goosebumps cover your arms. 

“Hang on tight, doll.” He said as the bike came to life. You were so glad you were wearing a helmet, so he couldn’t see the brush creep onto your cheeks. As you two rode, he used his prosthetic hand to steer the bike and kept his flesh hand on your knee the entire time. The sky had ditched the orange, pink, and red hues and was now littered in stars and moonlight. You didn’t want this to end, you felt like you could stay there for hours, but the library came into view a lot sooner than you wanted it to. 

The next day came and you got excited, as always, to see Bucky. Today was a little different though, after your date last night. Wait, was that even a date? It had to be, right? I mean he paid and flirted with you. 

“Bucky, why do you come in here every day?” You asked, peering at him over the book in your hands. He didn’t move for a second, you assumed he was finishing the sentence he was reading. “Well, all the libraries in New York City are crowded and noisy.” He explained, “So when I found this place while scoping out new libraries, even though it is quite a distance, I knew this place was it for me.” He smiled at you. “At least that was the reason initially.” He muttered, picking his book back up. 

“And what is that supposed to mean?” You set your book down this time, squinting your eyes at him, and propping your head up on your hands. “Well obviously, I now come back because the shitty coffee you offer is to die for.” He said sarcastically. You gasped and threw one of your pens at him, bouncing off his chest and onto the floor. He broke out into a fit of laughter, and you soon followed. 

“No, but now I come back to hang out with you.” He admitted to you, avoiding your stare. “Oh that so sweet…” You started, “...Dork.” Throwing another pen at him, this time hitting the bill of his hat. Bucky had come in every day for a little over a month now and missed not a single Sunday. “Hey (Y/F/N)?” Bucky asked, looking back up from his book. Your eyes didn’t leave the pages of your book, but you answered, “Yes, Buck?” You asked back, flipping the page. 

“I won’t be here tomorrow, and for a couple days after that.” When the words left his lips, a wave of sadness washed over you. Your lips twisted into a pout, looking towards him. “Why?” You asked, dragging out the word. “I have some obligations.” You rolled your eyes at him, “Okay, Mr. Mysterious.” You scoffed, feeling a bit upset. How long had he known? Why was he just now telling you? “I’m gonna be so bored without you.” You whined, leaning back in your chair with a huff. 

“I’ll make it up to you, I promise.” 

It was closing time now, and as usual, Bucky walked you to your car. “You better bring me a souvenir from wherever you’re going.” You joked, tossing your purse into the passenger seat, and turning back towards Bucky. “Would you prefer a T-shirt? Maybe some socks? How about a shot glass?” He joked back, leaning against the side of your car. “Surprise me.” You laughed, pushing his chest. 

As you went to pull away from his chest, his flesh hand wrapped around your wrist, softly. He placed it back on his chest, and his metal hand went to your hip, pulling you closer to him. The only distance between both of your chest was being occupied by your hand. You swore up and down that he could hear your heartbeat, but you were soon reassured because you could feel his heartbeat racing just as much as yours was. Bucky glanced down at your lips, and you did the same. 

You closed the space between your lips, and without thinking your eyes fluttered closed, taking in everything happening over your entire body. His lips were soft, tasting like coffee and mint. The growing stubble on his chin rubbed against the softness of your cheeks. His flesh hand was warm around your wrist, gripping it softly, he never wanted to hurt you. But the gestures with his metal hand were very different. It was leaving a cool tingling sensation against the small patch of exposed skin, and his grip was tighter, pushing you impossibly closer to him. You took your free hand, and placed it on his face, thumb running over his cheek, and your other four fingers resting on his neck. 

After what feels like minutes, but was probably only about thirty seconds, you pulled away from him. Reluctantly, of course. The two of you just stood there, not moving, relishing at the moment for as long as you could. “You know I meant to surprise me souvenir-wise, right?” You chuckled, messing with the hair on the nape of his neck. “Oh okay, we can just never do that again.” He sighed, messing with you. 

“No, no, we can definitely do that again.”

~

It was the first Sunday without Bucky in a while, he had been gone for almost a week now, you assumed working on his ‘obligations.’ You had been keeping yourself busy with a new book series, one that Bucky actually recommended to you. But today would be full of dusting, reorganizing, putting away some newer books, and vacuuming. It was probably around 3:30 in the afternoon, and you were dusting the large bay windows by the front of the store. 

You could feel the music moving through your body, making it impossible for you not to dance, at least just a little wiggle. You swayed your hips, the music taking over, singing into the duster like a microphone. Your free hand ran up the side of your body, from your thigh all the way up to your face. You threw your arm up over your head, and prancing around the tables, shifting the duster from a microphone to an electric guitar. When the song was finally over, and you were very much out of breath, you made your way back to the window. And when you did so, your heart dropped to your toes. There was a man standing on the opposite side of the window, watching you. 

It only took a few seconds for your fear to turn into relief. It was Bucky. You dashed to the left towards the door, unlocking the door, and running out to greet him. Practically leaping towards him, you wrapped both arms around his neck, and his arms snaked around your waist. After a few moments of swaying and just taking in his presence, you pulled away. He was smiling widely, “I didn’t mean to end your concert so soon, I was enjoying it.” Adding a chuckle. Your face blushed, and you put your hand over your eyes, peeking at him through your middle and ring finger, “Did you see the whole thing?” You asked, dreading his answer. “The whole thing.”

The two of you walked back inside, the music still playing loudly. There was a slow song playing, and you grabbed your phone to turn it down, but Bucky stopped you. “Wanna dance?” He asked, putting his hand out for you to grab. You smiled, happily taking it. He pulled your chest against his. Your arms rest on his shoulders, your fingers loosely interlocked. Both hands on your hips, both of you just rocking side to side. The music wasn’t even registering in your brain, you were just focusing on this moment with him. 

“I remember when this song came out.” He said softly. You cocked your eyebrow at him, “Didn’t this song come out in the fifties?” You asked confused, what did he mean by that? “So you really don’t know who I am, huh?” The question caught you off-guard, it sounded very egotistical. “No..?” You asked more like a question. And that’s when he explained everything, making a very long story very short. He explained the arm, the serum, and the ‘obligations.’ 

“You’re a fucking Avenger?” You asked, head in your hands, elbows on your knee. “Well, technically I’ve never been asked to be one, but kind of.” His hand on your back, rubbing it in small circles. “So you’re the James Buchanan Barnes from the Captain America museum?” He nodded. Everything kind of flooded back to your memory, you knew you heard the nickname “Bucky” before, and you knew he looked somewhat familiar, but you assumed he just looked kinda similar to an actor or something. 

It was silent for a good five minutes, but Bucky broke it. “Hey, guess what?” He asked, trying to hide the upturn of his lips. What now? Was he gonna break some more news to you? Was he also part alien? “Hmm?” That was all you said, running your fingers through your hair. He moved his hand to reach into his backpack and pulled out a book, sliding it towards you. 

“Russian Urban Legends.” You read the title, quickly flipping through the book with your thumb. “Flip to page 48, and tell me what it says.” He said, propping his head upon his hands. You did as he said and landed on page forty-eight. “The Winter Soldier.” You read the words written in a bright red font, the page decorated in grainy photos and ridiculously cheesy government lettering and drawings. Bucky looked at you, prompting you to continue. 

“A ghost story or a real threat?”

[hxt1b]

Hot and Cold

Jaemin x Reader 

Requested Prompts, 31, 46 "is that mine" and "I can't believe you did that." 

Genre: SMUT 

Warning: swearing, a lot of teasing

WC: 1.4k

Masterlist 

Prompt List you can send any requests you have, I am currently taking them!

A/N: I apologize for any grammatical errors, as usual I did my bed to read it over but some things may have slipped though. Also this was a request that I got and it took me a really long time to get to it. So I apologize for that as well, I really hope you guys like this! 

"Is that mine?" Jaemin asked strolling into your kitchen. You jumped not knowing he'd come over. You frowned at him as he laughed. 

"This shirt?" You asked, looking down at the black shirt you had on. "Yes, it is." 

You smiled at him as you turned back to the stove waiting for the water to boil so that you could put the noodles in. 

"You know babe, stealing is bad." He stated as he snaked his arms around your waist, resting his head on your shoulder. 

"It's not stealing, it's borrowing." You said. He pressed a kiss to your shoulder as he chuckled turning you around. 

He pulled you to him as he leaned back into the counter opposite the stove. His lips pushing against yours as he pushed his hands up your shirt. 

"You look hot in my clothes." He said in between kisses before he tightened his hold. His hand moved to cup your face, and you pulled away slightly. His thumb resting on the corner of your mouth. You looked up at him, before taking his thumb into your mouth and sucking on it. Jaemin's breath hitched, his hand on your waist tightening. 

"I can't believe you did that."  He breathed. 

You watched him as you slowly let his thumb go, your saliva coating it. You could feel his erection press into you through his sweats and you giggled at him before turned back to your noodles. 

You let out a gasp when Jaemin grabbed you again, one of his hands coming down over your eyes as he pulled your head to him tilting it to the side. The other one pulling your hips so that he could ground his hips into your ass. 

"You don't think I'm just gonna let you go like that do you?" He asked his voice low. You shivered his breath hit your ear, your pulse racing as his hand wandered up under your shirt again coming up to your braless breast. 

Jaemin clicked his tongue at you before biting down on the soft skin under your ear. He reached past you and turned off the stove, before pulling you with him to your bedroom. 

He kissed you roughly as he stopped at the foot of your bed before pulling away and removing his shirt before taking yours off, leaving you in just a pair of panties. His eyes raked over your body as he swore. 

He pushed you into the bed before following you himself. 

"Move up." He instructed, giving you room to scoot up closer to the head of the bed. 

"You're so hot." He said, brushing his lips against yours as he grabbed your breast roughly. His hands cold against your quickly heating skin.  

Abruptly rolling off you Jaemin opened up your nightstand, you whined at the lost contact and rolled onto your side, he rolled back with handcuffs and a blindfold. You pouted at him, he simply ignored you. 

"You know you'll have fun." He said as he took your hands and tied them to your headboard, before following with the blindfold. 

You closed your eyes, your heart beating against your ribs, threatening to crack out of your chest. You'd done this once before and ever since then you'd been trying to find a way to wind up your boyfriend enough to get him in this space again. Who knew all you had to do was suck his thumb while wearing his shirt. 

The bed moved as he got off of it. 

You whined his name and he shushed you. You heard his footsteps leave the bedroom as you squirmed on the bed. Your breathing shallowing at the anticipation of wondering what Jaemin was doing.

You felt him move back onto the bed seconds later. His cold hands returning to your body causing you to shiver. 

"So fucking hot." He muttered again to himself. You couldn't help but smile. 

You could feel his face hovering over your breast, his breath lighting a fire on your already flaming skin. You arched your chest into him and he chuckled. Obliging you this once as he took your nipple into his mouth, lightly biting on the hard numb. You moaned as he did so. 

You moaned his name as he copied the same action on the other side. Before he retreated from you again. Your lips parted open as you waited for him again. He liked taking his time, but you couldn't stand it. Whining you moved your hips thrusting against the air. You heard Jaemin laugh from your side, a clinking coming from his direction as he grabbed something from the nightstand again. 

"Ready baby?" He asked and you nodded. Instantly letting out a cry as ice dipped against the centre of your stomach, another piece moved around your nipples making them impossibly hard, you could feel Jaemins lips brush along the soft skin as he moved to the other breast. 

You wanted the blindfold off, you wanted to see him. Your hands moved before you could think, only to be stopped by the handcuffs. You moaned again at the feel of the metal biting into your skin, Jaemin moved his head lower and his hand went lower as well moving into your panties. 

You cried out again when the ice ghosted over your folds. Your mind was on cloud nine, as your hips began to move on their own accord, no thoughts in your head besides his name. You shuddered as he pressed the ice down onto your clit, his name leaving your mouth in a whine. 

He cooed at you, his fingers moving the ice again as he pressed two fingers into you, the ice cube with them and he kept his hand still. 

"Move for me, baby." He said. You could barely breathe properly, but you moved your hips on his hands, you could hear the lewd sound your body was making, the squelching filling the air along with your pants. 

He curled his fingers, hitting you at a different angle every time you moved now. Your mouth fell open as your mind fogged over.  

"Jaemin please." You whined as your hips slowed down. 

"Please what Y/N?" He asked. You just whined the word please again as you felt tears gather in your eyes. 

"Please." You whimpered again. You left his body cover yours as his fingers finally moved again, his thumb brushing against your clit. You were getting close, his fingers curling inside you as they hit your sweet spot. You were a mess underneath him, whimpering and moaning as nonsense words flew out of your mouth. 

You were so close, your core clenching around his fingers making him groan. 

"Are you close?" He asked, you managed to nod, your hips snapping against his hand again. 

He pulled his fingers out and pressed a kiss to your jaw. You were shocked for a second as your climax receded. 

"Wha- Jaemin!" You cried as he continued to kiss up to your jaw towards your mouth. 

"Not yet, you can't cum yet." He said and took off your blindfold. 

You blinked up at him, as you adjusted to the light in the room. He was out of his pants, his cock angry and pointed at you as he got up onto his knees. 

"Still taking your birth control like a good girl?" He asked, taking your underwear off. You nodded, and without waiting a second he pushed into you, his hands grabbing your hips as you let out a high-pitched moan at the intrusion. He didn't give you too much time to adjust as he began to thrust himself. 

"I'm not gonna last long." He said throwing his head back. You kept your eyes on him, the veins in his neck standing out as he fucked you. It's not like you were gonna last much longer either. Your orgasm crept up on you as he moved, his hips slapping against yours at a bruising rate. You stopped breathing as you came, your mind going blank. The white-hot heat spread over your body as you spasmed in Jaemins grasp, his thrusts egging along your climax. 

Jaemin moaned as you clenched around him, his own orgasm ripping through him as you began to come down from yours. He thrust into you sloppily a couple more times before falling into you. Both of you panting as you tried to calm your beating heart. 

Jaemin pressed a kiss to your lips before slowly pulling himself out of you. You groaned as he did, your hands jerking against your restraints again, Jaemin looked up at the jingling sound and smiled at you before grabbing the key and letting you out. 

He kissed your wrists as he pulled you into him. 

"You need to wear more of my clothes." 

[kireimarkeu]

No Contact

+another repost! i did not make any changes to this work.

summary; mark as your secret boyfriend.. but the both of you aren’t very discreet..

i was inspired by this drabble… so cute

5.1k words..

i swear i tried not to make it too long but it was so hard… also the ending is kinda funny lmfao!!!! im so funny

anw i hope you guys enjoyed this…? bc this was so so so fun to make although it’s lowkey kinda empty bc i didn’t want to make it too long!!! but yes hopefully you like it!! okkk bye!! njoy hehehehehe <3

+Day 18 3:32PM

You were holding Mark’s hands tightly, talking happily about anything and everything. 

That was why you loved Mark; he made you feel so comfortable, you could talk to him for hours and never get tired. He’s someone who you would need in a friend group to make everything less awkward. 

“And so, Yeri fell and we all laughed!” you told him, laughing at the old memory. 

You used to work as a choreographer for Red Velvet, but after a while, you decided to stop since it was affecting your studies a lot. While working with SM, you met the boys, and that was how you met the rest of NCT. 

When you didn’t get a response from Mark, you turned to look at Mark, only to find him frozen, staring ahead. 

“Mark?” you call, turning to see what he was staring at. Your eyes widened when you saw Jaehyun and Doyoung crossing the traffic light. “Oh, fuck.”

“Shit,” your boyfriend cursed, “we need to go,” he tells you, tightening his grip on your hand. 

The both of you speed walk to the opposite direction, hoping his members wouldn’t walk the same path as the both of you. Mark let out another string of curses when he saw his members walking behind them. 

Mark suddenly pulled you into a random store, trying to lose his friends. He pulled you deeper in the store, hiding the both of you from the main entrance. 

Your boyfriend was standing so close to you, the proximity making you nervous. You could feel your heart beating quickly as your cheeks flush red. Your hands going up to press them against Mark’s chest, pushing him back slightly. 

Mark didn’t notice, too distracted on finding his friends. When he noticed that he has lost his friends, he pulled away from a breathless you. His hands smoothly pull yours away from his chest. 

“I think they’re gone— wait, why are you so red?”

+Day 24 11:22PM

You were laying on the couch, playing with your phone while your boyfriend worked on some music that he has been writing for the past few days. 

“Mark~” you whine, your eyes were still stuck on your phone. You just wanted to disturb him for fun. 

Suddenly the door of the studio opened, Taeyong stumbling in as he stared at you and Mark in shock. 

“What are you doing here?” Taeyong asks you. 

“Uh…” you drag out, turning to look at your boyfriend for help. He looked at you then he quickly looked back at Taeyong. 

“I was making a new song for our Japan stage and had y/n help me with the choreography and all,” Mark explained, letting out an embarrassed chuckle. 

That was a lie. Well, not really. Mark did need help with the choreography, but at the same time he wanted you to be there to accompany him. Your presence calms him.

Taeyong remained silent as his eyes went back and forth between you and Mark.

“Should I leave?” you ask awkwardly, looking at your boyfriend then back at Taeyong. When you didn’t get a response, you stood up ready to grab your things.

The older man shook his head, “no, no, stay,” he tells you, walking further in, “I just didn’t know the both of you were so close,” he says while taking a seat next to your boyfriend. 

You let out a chuckle, “we’re close, you guys just didn’t know,”

+Day 33 9:02PM

After Taeyong found out how close Mark was with you, he wouldn’t stop inviting you to the dorm to hang out with the rest of the boys. 

“So, what movie are we watching today?” asks Taeyong as he took a seat next to Doyoung. 

You and Mark were seating next to each other. Mark was sitting at the very end while Jaehyun was sitting on the other side of you. Mark and you was sharing a blanket, your hands placed on your lap. 

“Parasite?” suggests Taeil. 

Loud whines filled the room, “we’ve all watched it, Taeil-ah,” whined Johnny. 

“Y/n, have you watched it?” asks Taeyong, turning to look at you. 

You shook your head. You were told it was pretty graphic and scary and you hated anything that has got to do with blood. 

And Mark knew that, so he would always avoid watching scary movies with you. 

“Should we watch it again? Since y/n hasn’t watched it?” suggests Taeyong, looking at the members for confirmation. The rest of the boys nod their head in agreement.

“Hyung,” your boyfriend voices out, “I don’t think—”

“No,” you quickly deny with a smile, “let’s watch it,”

Taeyong shrugs and plays the movie. 

Mark bit his lip.

A few minutes later, you felt your phone vibrate, you noticed it was Mark who has texted you. You turn to look at Jaehyun, making sure he wasn’t looking. You lowered the brightness of your phone before opening Mark’s text message. 

Markie Pooh: will you be okay?

You turn to look at Mark, but he was staring at the TV screen with a straight face. 

You bit back a smile as you typed a reply. 

You: yes, don’t worry abt me :) 

Mark quickly looked down at his phone to see your reply before keeping his phone away again. Your boyfriend let out a cough before shifting nearer to you until your shoulders were touching. 

You tried to hide your smile by looking down before looking back up, trying to keep a straight face. 

Mark had already watched the movie with the boys when it first came out. He knew when there was going to be a bloody scene. 

So, before the scene started, he had secretly reached for your hand under the blanket. 

You felt his fingers slowly reaching for yours, letting his fingers lace with yours. You tightly grip his hands, not wanting to let go. When you saw the bloody scene, your grip on your boyfriend’s hands tightened as he soothingly strokes the back of your hand with his thumb, hoping it would calm you. 

His fingers on yours distracted you from the graphic show that was playing. You were smiling like a crazy woman as Mark continued to stroke your hand with his thumb. 

“Are you… smiling?” asks Jaehyun as he turned to look at you weirdly. His question made everyone in the room to stare at you. 

Your eyes widen, shaking your head profusely. “No, I wasn’t,”

Johnny nodded, “you did, I saw you,”

At this point, Mark had already pulled his hand away from yours as he stares at you with amusement.

“I wasn’t smiling! It was a scary scene, why would I be smiling?” you ask them, crossing your arms defensively. 

Donghyuck lets out a sigh, “I think we all know y/n just loves horror,”

Taeil nodded, “yeah, she feeds of dead people,”

“Excuse me?!” you screech, throwing a pillow at Taeil, “what does that— no I don’t!”

The boys let out a roar of laughter, amused at how defensive you were acting.

Markie Pooh: you like that, huh? ;)

You looked down at your phone, letting out a soft scowl before reaching under the blanket to pinch Mark’s thigh. 

Mark let out a quiet squeal as he pushed your hand away. 

+Day 49 10:01PM

You were listening to Mark talk about his day. You couldn’t help but smile at how adorable he was; his pouty lips and chubby cheeks which you so desperately want to pinch. 

“Babe, are you listening?” Mark asks with a frown, noticing how you haven’t moved for the past few minutes. 

You nodded, “yes I am, baby,” you replied. 

Mark grins, “okay,” and he went back to talking about his best friend, Donghyuck. 

After hanging out with the boys for a couple of time, you and Donghyuck became close as well. Maybe because he was your boyfriend’s best friend, but you and him just got along so well that the both of you even started texting almost every day.

“So, what did you do today, babe?” asks Mark, snapping you out of your thoughts. 

“Huh? Oh, well I didn’t do anything today,” you tell him, “I cleaned my house a little bit then I took a nap,”

He puffs his cheeks out, “it’s a good thing you didn’t go out today, the air quality is really bad.”

He was always taking care of you; it always made your heart flutter. Mark was always looking out for you despite him being busy himself. Sometimes he would forget to take care of himself which always resulted in you lecturing him. 

Mark was in the middle of saying something when someone barged in his room, screaming. 

“MARK LEE!” you recognised it was Taeil’s voice. 

Mark quickly hid his phone, resting it on his chest. 

“Ah, Hyung, what are you doing here? What do you want?” you heard him ask.

You decided to mute your mic, just to be safe. 

“Why? Can’t I come in and talk to you?” asks Taeil. 

You suddenly heard a loud huff from Mark, as his phone fell off his chest and onto his white sheets. You assumed Taeil was laying on him. 

“Ah~ get out,” whined Mark, pushing the elder off him. 

You heard Taeil click his tongue. “who are you talking to? Your girlfriend?” he asks, “MARK HAS A GIRLFRIEND!” yell Taeil as you laugh out loud. 

Luckily your mic was on mute.

“I don’t have a girlfriend!” groans Mark as he stood up to push his member out of his room. He quickly locked the door before jumping back to bed, grabbing his phone. 

You unmute your mic. 

“Hi,” you giggle. 

He let out a huff, but letting out a shy smile, “Hi, so, where were we?”

+Day 57 7:57PM

Mark entered your house after taking off his shoes. He quietly took a seat at the very end couch. 

It was hard for the both of you to visit each other especially with the boys around, so you decided to have dates at your place instead. It was a good idea since no one could come over and interrupt the both of you. 

“Are you okay?” you ask Mark, noticing how he was so stiff. 

He nodded hesitantly, “it’s just…”

You waited for him to finish his sentence. 

“-awkward,” he finishes, looking up at you. 

You laugh at his words, “why?”

He shrugs, “I don’t know! I’ve never been to your place.”

Amused, you scoot closer to your boyfriend, wrapping your arms around his, leaning up to whisper in his ear. 

“There’s no one else here, Mark.”

You liked teasing him. You enjoyed how he would freeze up at your words. Or when his cheeks would turn a bright red colour. Or how his palms would turn a little sweaty. 

Pulling away from you, he quickly stood up, shaking his head. “No, no, that’s not what we’re going to do.” He tells you, stepping further away from you as you looked up at him in enjoyment. 

“We’re here to watch a movie,” he says, “that’s all.”

He was convincing himself. 

+Day 69 4:13PM

Marker: babe ):

You: what

Marker: I miss you ):

Marker: )))))):

You chuckled at his texts. 

Marker: what are you doingggggg

You: I’m watching a drama

You: what are you doing?

Marker: practice ):

Marker: so bored wo u here

Marker: miss your pretty face ):

You: stop it with the sad emojis!! >:(

Marker: ):

Marker: ):

Marker: ):

Marker: ))):

You: bye

You: I’m going to put my phone on dnd

Marker: nooo don’t leave me baby

Marker: okokokokok I’ll behave

You: good

Annoying boy: hehe

Annoying boy: wht are u up to babyyyy

Annoying boy: wait I already asked that

You: yes u did, u loser

Annoying boy: can I come over later?

You: y 

Annoying boy: causeee I miss u 

You: fine but not too long

You: I don’t want the boys to be all suspicious

Annoying boy: ok bb!!! I won’t hehehe ok

Annoying boy: I have to go now!!

Annoying boy: ily!! Bye bye 

You: see you later

+Day 74 2:36AM

You had one of your leg bent on Mark’s thigh, your hand resting on his chest. He has one arm around your neck for comfort. 

“Mark,” you sigh. 

Mark’s eyes were glued on his phone but let out a hum at the mention of his name. His fingers stroke your shoulder as a sign to assure you that he was listening. 

“We haven’t gone on a date in so long,” you say sadly, drawing hearts on his chest with your finger.

Mark put his phone down, “you wanna go on a date?”

You look up at him and nodded. 

When he made eye contact with you, he couldn’t help but press his lips on your forehead, “okay, but we can’t get caught,”

You nodded, wrapping your arms around your boyfriend’s neck, pulling yourself up so you could press kisses all over his face. Mark’s face scrunch at the ticklish feeling of your lips.

“tickles,” he giggles, pulling his face away from you. 

You pout when he pulls away from you. Your eyes slowly trail off his face to his hair; your fingers automatically going up to play with the black strands. 

Fuck, Mark literally just fell in love with you. 

He enjoyed the position that the both of you were in. You- laying on top of him while he had both hands resting on your waist, staring up at you lovingly. 

“I love your black hair, Mark,” you mumble, eyes stuck on the boy’s hair. 

“Yeah?”

“Mhm,” you nod, “never dye it any other colour,” you look down at him, “or I’ll get mad,” you joke. 

He laughs, “Anything for my girl,”

Your boyfriend’s hands that was resting on your waist, went up to stroke your back softly. He put a little pressure on your back, pushing you down to capture your lips in his. 

+Day 80 11:22PM

It was another movie night with the boys.

This time it was Donghyuck who had invited you over since promotions are over. 

You walked over to sit next to Mark, but you heard Donghyuck whine your name. 

“Sit with me~”

You let out a smile, sitting next to Haechan. The boy immediately grabs your arm, wrapping it around his shoulders before cuddling against you. 

Your met Mark’s gaze from across the room. You could tell he was pissed from the way he was nibbling on his lip and clenching his fist. He looked away, typing into his phone. 

You felt your phone vibrate, knowing it was from Mark. You didn’t bother checking the message because it was too risky, especially with Haechan cuddled to your side. 

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

A few hours and lots of movies of later, the boys finally grew tired and decided to call it a night.

Since it was too late for you to head back home, the boys offered you to sleep over. You told them you would take the couch. They were a little hesitant to let a girl sleep on the couch, but you managed to convince them. 

It wasn’t like you would be sleeping on the couch anyway. 

Once you were sure that everyone was in their respective rooms, you quietly sneaked into your boyfriend’s bedroom. 

“Mark?” you whisper, opening the door quietly. 

When you saw the mop of black hair laying on the pillow, you smile, closing the door quietly, your feet padding towards the bed. 

You pull the blanket down so you could lay next to your lover. You rest your arm on his waist as you snuggle closer to him. 

“Hi handsome,” you whisper, letting out a giggle as you stare at his pretty face. A frown replaced your smile when he didn’t reply to you. “Are you okay, baby?”

Mark could only pout. You pout along with him, the hand resting on his waist going up to push away the stray hair from his face. 

“Why are you pouting?” you ask quietly, pressing a kiss to his pouty lips. 

He pouts even more, “why did you sit with Haechan just now? Why didn’t you sit with me?”

You bit back a grin that was forming, “why? Were you jealous?”

He frowns and shook his head, “no! why would I be jealous of Haechan?”

“Really?” you ask, “if you’re not jealous then I’ll sit with Haechan from now on,” you tease, your fingers now caressing his exposed chest. 

He shrugs, “fine by me,”

You suddenly stood up, letting his arm fall on your lap, “actually, I’ll even go sleep with him,” you continued to pester Mark, enjoying the way it was bothering him. 

“Hey!” he whisper-shout, his hands wrapped on your wrist, stopping you from getting out of bed, “You can’t do that!”

You chuckle, laying back down with your boyfriend, “I won’t, dummy,” you flick his forehead.

He lets out a satisfied sigh, pulling you closer until his cheeks were resting on the top of your head. 

“You’re mine. Mine only.”

+Day 89 12:35AM

The both of you were on facetime again. 

Despite being only 30 minutes apart, the both of you couldn’t meet; not wanting anyone to catch the both of you. Furthermore, you felt bad, since Mark had just finished practice, it would be tiring for him to come over your place. 

There was a sudden knock on Mark’s door. Your boyfriend hastily hid his phone and you naturally mute your mic. 

“You busy?” you heard someone ask, from the voice, you assumed it was Taeyong. 

“No,” Mark reply. 

“Were you talking to someone? Is it y/n?” asks Taeyong. 

Mark pretend to grimace at your name, “why would I be calling y/n?”

Taeyong shrugs, “we all kinda assumed you had a crush on y/n,”

“Ew,” Mark shook his head, “I’ll never like y/n,” he says, “she’s not even my type.”

You knew he was just saying that to stop the suspicions of the both of you dating but what he said actually hurts. 

“Really?” Taeyong questions, “we were so sure you would like y/n,”

“I swear, Hyung. Y/N isn’t even my type, her personality isn’t even my type,” Mark tries to persuade the older boy. 

Now that actually really hurts. 

You weren’t sure if he was just lying or saying the truth. 

You couldn’t bare to listen another second of their conversation, so you immediately hung up. 

Markie: baby

Markie: whyd u end the call haha

Markie: Taeyong’s gone call me back hehe

2 missed calls

Markie: why are you not picking up??

1 missed call

Markie: call me baaackkkk babe

Markie: did u fall asleep?? Haha

Markie: but it’s so early tho :(

Markie: I guess you’re asleep~

Markie: ok goodnight baby sleep tight dream of me :3

Markie: I love youuuuuuuu

+Day 90 12:46PM

Markie: good morning my love

Markie: can we call??

Markie: I kinda miss you haha 

1 missed call

Markie: heeyyyyy

Markie: are you ignoring me?

Markie: I didn’t want to think you were ignoring me, but I feel like you r

Markie: did I do something wrong? :/

Markie: can you tell me what it is at least?

Markie: at least we can talk it out or at least I can apologize?

Markie: babe

You: why did you say that

Markie: say what?

You: yesterday

You: what you said about me

You: tht I wasn’t your type nd all 

Markie: call me

Few seconds later, you received a call from your boyfriend. You answered the call, placing your phone on your ear. 

“I didn’t mean what I said,” he quickly says, “I just wanted to convince him that we weren’t dating,”

You were quiet for a while; you could hear Mark’s heavy breathing. You knew he was stressed with work and all, and you being sulky definitely wasn’t helping him. 

You let out a sigh, “I know.”

“Was it too much?” he asks you. 

“No,” you answer, “I just, I was just overthinking it and—”

“I get it,” he cuts you off, “don’t worry about it,”

“I’m sorry,” you blurted out, “I know you’re really busy and stressed over work and I’m just making you feel worse by overthinking and all—”

“Hey,” he cuts you off again, “Don’t worry, I shouldn’t have said that.”

You couldn’t help but feel sorry.

“Sorry,” you apologised again. 

“Apologize one more time and I’ll end the call,” he jokes. 

+Day 100 8:35PM

Mark hid his hands behind his back, holding the small box in his hand tightly as he faced you with a cheeky smile. 

“What do you have behind your back, Mark Lee?” you ask, squinting your eyes at him suspiciously. 

It was your 100th day together, and since the both of you couldn’t go out to celebrate, the both of you agreed to celebrate at your place instead. 

Since Mark couldn’t make it special for you, he decided to get you a present, just to make-up for all the secret dates. 

“It’s a present,” he answers cheekily. “I got you something to make up for all the secret dates,”

You pout at his words, “I’m okay with all the sneaking around, Mark,”

Your hands going up to his jaw, your thumb caressing his cheek softly. Mark loves your touches; he couldn’t help but lean into your touch. 

Tilting his head a little, he pressed a small kiss against your palm, one of his hands reaching to grab your hands in his. 

“I bought it because I think you’ll look good in it,” he tells you, pulling out the box from behind. 

You gasp when you saw the Tiffany & Co. box. 

“Mark,” you exclaim, looking up at him, “that’s expensive!”

“You haven’t even seen it yet!” he laughs. 

He slowly opens the box, showing off the elegant 18k diamond necklace. 

Your hands went up to your mouth, gasping. 

“Mark Lee,” you shook your head, “you’re fucking crazy,”

He smiles, satisfied with your reaction, “do you like it?”

“Are you crazy? It’s beautiful!” you tell him. “But all I bought for you were $15 chocolates but here you are— gifting me an 18k diamond necklace!”

Mark giggles, pulling out the necklace from it’s box. 

“Turn around,” he murmurs. You automatically turn around, pulling your hair to one side so he could easily put the necklace on you. 

He swiftly place the pretty necklace around your neck, pinning it. You turn around to face him. 

“Pretty?” you ask him, tilting your head a little. 

“Gorgeous,” he responds, a smirk playing on his lips.

Just as you were about to reply, you heard a knock on your door. Your eyebrows scrunch in confusion, who would come over at this timing?

Mark frowns, “did you invite someone?”

You shook your head, “No, stay here, I’ll go see who it is.”

You stood up, walking to your door, checking the peephole, finding out who is on the other side of the door. You let out a soft gasp when you saw Donghyuck standing behind the door. 

You quickly kick Mark’s shoes under the cabinet at the front door then running over to your boyfriend. 

“Who—”

You grabbed Mark’s arms, pulling him up. “Fuck, it’s Haechan,”

He let you pull him into your bedroom with furrowed eyebrows, “why is he here?”

You shake your head, pushing Mark into your walk-in wardrobe, “I have no idea. Stay here, I’ll try to distract him, okay?”

You didn’t even let him answer, already rushing out, making sure to close your bedroom door. 

When you opened the door, Haechan immediately walked in, whining on how you were taking forever to answer the door. 

It has been 15 minutes and Haechan still hasn’t left and Mark was growing tired and sweaty in your wardrobe.

Baby Mark: is he still there

You: yeah

Baby Mark: fuuuck

Baby Mark: tell him to leave

Baby Mark: it’s so hot in here :(

You: I’m trying!! He just won’t leave

You: are you okay in there

Baby Mark: no

You: fine just get out of the wardrobe and stay in my room

You: sorry

You: make sure u lock the door and don’t make too much noise

Baby Mark: okay

+Day 101 2:34AM

You let out a heavy sigh when Donghyuck finally left. Closing your eyes tightly, you let out another heavy breath. You could finally sit down and rest. 

Oh shit— Mark!

You ambled towards your bedroom, twisting it open, realising it wasn’t locked. 

This little shit. 

When you walked in your bedroom, you were met with your boyfriend laying on your bed, hugging one of your pillows, asleep. Your heart warmed at the sight, you felt bad making him wait for hours when it was your 100th day as a couple. 

Walking closer, you climbed in next to him. Your hands caressed his hair and his pretty face. 

“I’m sorry for making you wait for so long,” you whisper. 

You didn’t know what made you so emotional, but you couldn’t help but tear up. 

You really didn’t know why. Maybe because he had gone out of his way just to see you. And maybe because he had to wait for hours just for you and in the end both of you couldn’t celebrate the special day. 

“You’re the best boyfriend I could ever ask for—” you choked a sob, a hand going up to cover your mouth. 

Taking a deep breath, you continue, “You do so much for me and I’m always messing up.”

For once, you were thankful that your boyfriend was a heavy sleeper. 

“I love you, Mark,” you mumble, your eyes scanning his face, appreciating everything about him. “Remember that.”

After wiping your dried tears, you slide next to him, removing the pillow that was between you two. Snuggling right into his arms, your head resting on his chest while his cheek was pressed on the crown of your head. 

“I love you,” you whisper one last time before falling into a deep slumber. 

+Day 124 7:28PM

The dome was filled with loud voices, everyone was holding their green NCT lightsticks. You felt out of place, especially when you didn’t have any kind of lightstick or poster on you. 

You nervously took a seat on your assigned seat, waiting for your boyfriend to come out. 

NCT was holding a concert after a while and Taeyong had given you free tickets to support them. 

Mark had actually gotten hold of an extra ticket for you and was about to surprise you but found out that his members had already invited you. He was a little bummed out about it but shrugged it off. 

The light dimmed and the crowd started cheering. The girls around you started squealing in excitement. 

Soon, the boys started performing. When your boyfriend’s face was on the screen, you couldn’t help but grin at his cute face. 

The fans next to you would squeal and gush at how adorable your boyfriend is. You were proud that he was your boyfriend, sadly you couldn’t show him off. 

At the end of the concert, the boys lined up in the middle of the huge stage. They started thanking the fans for coming and supporting them. 

“But I think Mark is really happy today,” Jaehyun suddenly blurted out, turning to face Mark. 

The camera started zooming in to your boyfriend’s face. 

Mark’s eyes widen , confused, “what, why? Why?”

“Because his girlfriend is here!” Jaehyun screams into the mic as the boys let out a string of weird noises. 

Mark froze on the spot as everyone went crazy over the statement. 

“Wha—”

“Okay, we will end this concert here! Thank you everyone for coming!”

Before everyone was even ready to leave, you had already run to meet your boyfriend back stage. 

Fuck, did Jaehyun actually say that?

You’re met with the sweaty boys laughing in the dressing room. 

“What the fuck was that?” you ask breathlessly as you scan each of the boys facial expression. 

“Uh oh, his girlfriend is here,” joked Johnny, staring at you with amusement. 

Mark turned to stare at the boys, “you guys knew?!”

“You guys weren’t very discreet.”

You were already standing next to your boyfriend, “how did you guys know?”

“You really think we won’t see the both of you holding hands in a public place?” scoffs Doyoung. 

Taeyong shrugs, “Mark never brings girls to the recording room.”

Your face turned red at Taeyong’s comment as Mark groans at his words. 

“And you think I wouldn’t see you guys holding hands under the blanket? Jesus,” sighs Jaehyun, rolling his eyes. 

“Fuck you,” Mark replies while Jaehyun flashes the middle finger to his friend. 

“Also, you talk way too loud y/n,” Taeil says, Taeyong immediately agreeing with him. 

“Or maybe the walls are too thin?” Taeyong questions. 

“Oh my god,” you whisper, embarrassed. “So, you guys heard everything?”

“Wish we didn’t,” shrugs Johnny. 

Mark had quietly reached for your hand, a habit he had whenever he’s nervous. 

“Also, I knew Mark was at your place, that’s why I came over,” laughs Haechan. 

You had let go of Mark’s hands to stomp over to the boy, hitting his back. “Lee Donhyuck! Did you know how long he had to wait in my wardrobe?!”

Haechan rolls his eyes, “oh please, you let him out because he was sweating.”

You let out a loud gasp, “you knew that too?!”

“Which idiot would put their password as 0000?”

“You went through my phone?!” you raised your voice, hitting the boy on the back once more. 

With furrowed eyebrows you frown and let out a sigh, “now what? Everyone knows Mark has a girlfriend,”

“I checked Twitter,” Jungwoo says, “some weren’t very happy but there are many who are supportive,”

Your frown deepens. You knew this would happen. It would affect Mark’s career badly; that was the main reason the both of you kept your relationship a secret. 

You turn to look at your boyfriend who was looking incredibly stressed right now. 

“Don’t worry y/n,” assures Johnny, you turn to look at him. “Mark is one of the most experienced and hardworking people in SM, I’m sure they’ll let you both off,”

You had your arms crossed defensively, “are you okay with this, Mark?”

You were worried for your boyfriend. 

You knew how much being on stage meant to him. He would do anything to continue performing. 

“I…I think so?” he says after a minute of pure silence. 

You pout slightly at his words. 

“I just wanna rest right now, I’m tired.”

The boys quickly agree with the younger. Everyone started standing up, grabbing their bags, leaving the room. 

You stayed with your boyfriend, accompanying him.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” you ask him again. 

He kept letting out sad sighs and it was concerning you. 

“Honestly,” he started, “I don’t know,” he turns to look at you. 

The palm of your hands automatically going up to stroke his back, attempting to comfort him. 

“I just… I just wanna be with you right now,”

You lean closer to him. “Okay.”

“Whatever it is,” he says, “we will go through it together.”