#any time the gals interact with the guys in this story it always comes with some kind of plot revelation attached and i greatly enjoy that~ | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

orchidyoonkook · 4 months ago

Text

YOONS, MY DARLING FRIEND, YOU HAVE OUTDONE YOURSELF YET AGAIN.

VIOLET I WILL CRY, THAT IS A THREAT. I LOVE YOU.

First of all, it was my absolute pleasure and honor to act as a soundboard in any small way for the genius that is this story. Thank you for bringing me into your beautiful creative process, it was so incredibly fun for me. 🥰

i REFUSE to let you downplay your help by saying "small way" THANKYEW VERY MUCH. You were an enourmous help and I will forever thank you for your friendship, kind words of encouragement, and general overall existence. It was so incredibly fun to have you along for the ride. I suspect it won't be the last time, be you willing.

Secondly, to anyone this may reach, I cannot recommend this story enough. The things Yoons does like an absolute certified pro:

*sobbing into my palms already*

• World building: The club scene in this oneshot is an entire reality of its own. The vibes VIBE so incredibly richly, giving the events and interactions between characters a context with intoxicating and transportive ambiance.

I love that everyone seems to love the club scene. I really took my time with that to try and nail the world building so I am THRILLED it's worked to my wanting for the readers. *happy dances*

• Rapport between characters: Whether it's tension-building banter, or heartwarmingly affectionate ribbing, the dynamics between characters here is something that seems to predate our little peek into their world, making our witness of the intense developments between Tae and PG so incredibly delicious. 🤤💕

They flowed so easily for me. It was like I was literally just writing down what I was witnessing in front of me. They felt so natural and real so I'm so so so happy this is how it comes across to you too!!

• Literary rhetoric: I'm talking chewy, delectable alliteration, gorgeously layered analogies, foreshadowing and allusion that has you kicking and screaming - you know, the stuff that gets you Pulitzer Prizes and all that. Here. For for us. For free.

Funny enough I was actually just talking to Remmy about this topic and how I wanted to integrate these things into the story. So I'm gunna pull what I wrote to them and place it here:

"One of my goals with this fic was to write with the essence and vibe of who Tae is. That goes down to like. The metaphors. The descriptions. Everything. I wanted it to feel like the reader (you) had him wrapped around them as they read."

Again I threaten tears at the mention of Pulitzers and kind words 😭😭♥♥♥

• Lads, lasses, and non-binary sexy asses: THE MOTHER EFFING SMUT. I won't go into detail here beyond saying it's as moving as it is filthy, as prosy as it is sinful. This is erotic art. As heavy as I can possibly state on 'erotic'. 🥵🔥

Guys, Gals and Non-Binary Pals I tried so hard with this one. I wanna get better at writing smut because for me, smut isnt just smut, it's the pinnacle of human connection. And I want so badly to do it justice. Therefore, once again, to have my hopes for this scene confirmed and encouraged brings me such warmth. SUCH. Warmth. And immense gratitude.

• Characterization: Taehyung, guys. He is so freaking in-character here that I was hiding behind my hands for most of my read, just trying to rein in my delulu to the point of retaining my sanity.

VI. VI I WAS TALKING TO REMMY ABOUT THIS TOO, HOLY SHIT. Tae isn't one of the boys's heads who I can easily get into. I'm gunna pull another quote from my convo with Remmy.

"I really wanted to nail his character and essence cuz he was always someone who's floated parallel to me. But we could never intersect. So I tried hard with this one cuz it was the first where the male lead didn’t come to me naturally no really had to work at it."

Basically, Tae is someone who I understand on a surface level, but he has a piece of art inside him I've never quite managed to grasp nor understand so it makes it hard for me to get him *jussssst* right. As artist of many varieties myself, I feel almost like an outsider when in comparisson to him, not in a negative way, he just seems to have the spirit of what I consider to be the true nature of an artist. The risks, the controlled chaos, his love of...what I see as very strange artworks that are just so him though.

It's incredibly reassuring as a fic writer, who's taking the personality traits of a person and trying to expand into a seperate universe with their likeness, to know that I succeeded in that task.

As always, this is beautiful story-telling wrapped up in a bow as BTS fan fiction, and I will continue to not understand how we get this lovely work for nothing more than the promise a of a few feeble words expressing our adoration for this work and its author.

FEEBLE. FEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEBLE!!!!???????????? VIOLET ANN ELIZABETH SIREN. (i am making up middle names) Dont you DARE downplay the incredible fuel yours and others words give creatives. I shouldn't have to say this to you considering you're a creative yourself and we've had the conversation of how much reviews like this mean to us. I will put your ass in time out. Don't tempt me.

Scolding aside: I'm crying. You've gone and done it now. Tears on cheeks, tissues nearby. CRYING.

You continue to amaze me, user orchidyoonkook. 💜

I. LOVE. YOU.

PG | KTH

Title: PG

Pairing: Older Brother's Best Friend!Kim Taehyung x (F)!Reader

Rating//Genre: (M) | One Shot, Friends to Lovers, Age Gap, Slice of Life, Angst, Smut and Touches of Fluff

Summary: You aren’t delusional enough to think anything would ever happen between the two of you, not for a damn second. Be it the age difference, the fact that he’s your brother's friend, or the extremely high likelihood that he sees you as nothing more than Fourteen’s annoying little sister that he can use to rile said best friend up.

But that’s about it. Nothing more. And reality is something you’re able to keep a solid grasp on when it comes to him. You don’t let it go for the sake of acting on a one sided and unrequited feeling you know will pass… eventually.

Warnings: nicknames! a disgusting amount, language, assholes being assholes but being put in their place, brotherly love, sibling antics, tae is a swimmer and knows judo, also a Dan is--for the lack of better phrasing--a high belt level in judo. think of it like a black belt, OC cant keep it in her pants and neither can tae, mutual pining, lots of great gatsby references because I'm tyring to be that bitch (I am joking), tae has tats, OC's brother is an overprotective idiot but we love him anyway, slight physical abuse not by tae or reader or fourteen--basically someone grips an arm too harshly, some panic but no panic attack,

Explicit warnings under the cut.

Word Count: 11,521

Release Date: September 15, 2024. 12:00PM

A/N 1: The biggest most huge thank you to @violetsiren90 for being my sounding board, tech support and beta. She's a real one and y'all are sleeping on her work if you haven't alread read it. Go check her out!

A/N 2: My access to the adobe suite was aha....revoked. So! this is my first time making a banner and divider without photoshop. Therfore, the banner and the divider are a bit different than what I'm used to having XD. Tumblr is also absolutely destroying the qualty which is sooooo great. It looks wonky and blurry to me on desktop but fine on mobile so it is what it is. If i ever get adobe access again I'll probably come back and update the graphics.

Explicit Warnings: *ahem* nicknames, teasing, kissing, biting, marking (several ways), hand and finger kink (duh), voice kinklet (duhhhh), hair 'pulling' (m rec), semi public if you squint, hella foreplay, tae has a big dick, penetrative sex, oral (m+f rec), fingering, handjob?, multiple orgasms, body worship, switch like activities but mostly dominant tae, posessiveness, confessions, reader takes what she wants but so does tae, exhibitionism if you squint, slight cum play/eating, implied squirting, choking, cream pie. Pretty sure thats all of them. i never reailse how many i need to put until the list is done and wow *chuckes while blushing*

“Oi, can you fucking not? My sister’s right fucking there,” your older brother, Fourteen—nicknamed for his forever mental age—ridiculously and unneededly overprotective as always, says.

It is especially unneeded and ridiculous as he’s saying it to Tae, when all he’s doing is taking off his shirt to go for a swim in your pool. Like he’s been doing since you were tweens.

Well.

Since you were a tween and they were nearing the legal drinking age. But that’s besides the point.

Best friend to your knuckle head of an older brother, you honest to god have no idea how they became friends.

Taehyung is poetry and jazz and button up cotton shirts. Old book smell and expensive cologne, ringed fingers and whiskey, neat. The kind of vibe someone would get from being raised by a very successful lawyer for a father and a top ranking university professor of literature for a mother, while Fourteen is… your older brother.

Maybe it’s a younger sister thing to not understand how her older brother has any friends. Considering you grew up with him, know all of his weird and gross habits, have a lovely dash of sibling bullying thrown in that you two share equally, and more. Yet, by some miracle, he and Tae manage to balance one another out.

Tae—fucking somehow—makes your brother into a more presentable human being. He showers more than twice a week and wears deodorant every day now—even puts the seat down after peeing, a habit you’ve been screaming at him to stop doing since you could use the toilet. While Fourteen gives Tae a rougher edge he previously never seemed to be able to grasp, despite trying his best too.

For example, the several delicate tattoos he now has all over his body, your favourite of which is an old timey record player on the inside of his forearm. They were something he’d been wanting to do for years, but only finally bit the bullet on and did once Fourteen took him when they were twenty two.

Since then the collection’s only grown, much to your inner glee and mental dismay.

And don’t even get you started on the delicate, thin rimmed glasses he occasionally wears—golden and the perfect shape for his face—or the ear piercings that just really fucking cement the tortured poet look that makes your heart clench every. single. time. you look at him.

Similarly to what it’s doing right now, though no one ever knows due to your truly oscar worthy talent for acting completely oblivious to the beautiful shirtless man about to dive in. Call it over a decades worth of practice, and the fact that it’s also nothing you hadn’t gloriously taken in all teenagehood long.

Every time you could get it.

Which was a lot because Tae was on the high school swim team.

For four years.

And then the university swim team.

For another four.

Teenage you was a lucky bitch. Now you’re only blessed with this sight when he comes over to swim laps or attempt to drown Fourteen. Which, admittedly, was still often. But not nearly as much as back then.

The sight in question however, is curled black hair that frames eyes so warm you swear the sun’s relocated to his irises, and a jawline that makes the Statue of David’s pathetic in comparison. It’s fingers that make your mouth water from the way they flip book pages and thighs that make you think thoughts and things you never thought you would.

It’s the scribbled text: ‘To err is human; to forgive, divine’ tattooed across his ribs, and a lean torso, muscled but not outrageously so. Just enough to have you forcing yourself not to stare at the delicate lines of his abdomen every time he comes over for a swim.

Thank god for sunglasses.

“Nah, I’m sure PG can handle it, Dumbass. I’ve only been using your pool every summer for the last 15 years give or take,” Tae says with a quirked brow and a half smile directed at you.

Behind your sunnies, you heat up a touch, and internally sigh. Have you mentioned his smile yet?

Because oh yeah, his fucking smile.

Tae’s a nickname kind of person, hence why even you call your brother ‘Fourteen’. Taehyung’s called him Fourteen for so long now that calling your brother by his birth name just feels wrong.

This being said, PG is Tae’s nickname for you.

It stands for the TV rating ‘Parental Guidance’ because you’re younger by enough that when you were still under the age of 18, they—see: your brother and Tae because they’ve been joined at the hip since they met—were usually assigned babysitting duty. Very much the ‘take your sister with you’ sibling, but they never complained. Not once.

As much as you and Fourteen bully one another, you’re actually quite close when you aren’t verbally sparring—which is where his annoying overprotectiveness comes in. Even when it comes to Taehyung.

“Yeah, Dumbass,” you copy, earning a smirk from Tae as he leans down to take his shoes off. “It’s just Tae.”

“It’s not about that YN, it’s about respect. You’re my little sister, and Fuckass over here,” you brother jabs a thumb in Tae’s direction, which earns you a second hidden smirk from the Fuckass in question, “Still doesn’t know how to respect that fact even after a decade and a half apparently.”

You shrug as Fourteen finishes his point and narrows his eyes at his best friend. Tae gives him a shit eating grin that screams ‘what are you going to do about it’ and your brother gives him a two fingered salute before shaking his head and taking off his own shirt.

You take that as your cue to put your head back down because you don’t need to see that.

Currently in very comfortable linen shorts and tank, you’re sitting on a padded pool lounger, rereading The Great Gatsby for the hundredth time. It’s one of the classics that never gets old for you, has the benefit of being a shorter read—therefore perfect for the poolside—and happens to be the copy Tae’d gotten you for Christmas a couple years ago. Pure coincidence, you tell yourself. Nothing more.

With the beautiful addition of your very darkly glassed sunnies, it also makes the perfect decoy as you watch Tae over the top of the open book without risk of being caught.

You firmly follow the rule of a little looking can’t hurt.

You aren’t delusional enough to think anything would ever happen between the two of you, not for a damn second. Be it the age difference, the fact that he’s your brother's friend, or the extremely high likelihood that he sees you as nothing more than Fourteen’s annoying little sister that he can use to rile said best friend up—see: current shirt stripping debacle. It’s not the first nor the last time he’ll do something like it, and you’re pretty sure you and Tae have an unspoken agreement at this point to push as many of Fourteen’s buttons as you can together, just to see how far he’ll let it go before freaking out.

Despite the flames that rage and roar on in your heart.

Despite the green light on the dock across the way tackling your brother under the water.

You hold on. And only in these little moments of in between do you allow yourself to look. Pockets of time where a peek won’t be seen or recorded, and a moment of self indulgence keeps your sanity from trying to escape its tightly locked box.

You look and look and look until the green light is covered in fog once more, and the lid of the box seals tight.

Another day, another glorious abuse of best friend privileges, Taehyung thinks to himself as he continues his butterfly down the imaginary lanes in Fourteen’s pool.

He tries to come over at least three times a week. Four or five if he’s able, the more he’s over the higher chance he has to see you, not just Fourteen. But he’s rarely able to these days.

Though the wind appears to have shifted in his favour today. You’re sitting on the lounge chairs again, reading away in the afternoon sun.

It’s his favourite view. And it’s sweetened by the fact that you’re in the shorts he loves and reading a book he gave you. Something he’s done since before he could remember, really.

Christmases and birthdays, he’s always given you a book. Usually a classic, sometimes something else. If it caught his eye or reminded him of you, he’d grab it and save it until the next Christmas or the next birthday, whichever came first. And you’ve always loved them, so he’s never stopped.

They’re gifts that seem harmless to Fourteen, and for the most part they are. But these last few have been…different. Had deeper thought put into them. The titles, the story lines, the prose. He swears you notice it, but maybe that’s just his own wishful thinking.

And he sure as fuck can’t be doing any of that.

This cold water isn’t doing its job well enough.

Finishing his set, Tae swims over to rest before starting on his front stroke. Forearms hold him up on the edge of the pool, his chin balancing on stacked knuckles while his breath catches.

He also uses this little break as an excuse to talk to you. He only ever freely can when Fourteen isn’t around, and right now his best friend is inside grabbing drinks, towels and probably relieving himself–which, knowing Fourteen—could take anywhere from thirty seconds to thirty minutes. So he has to take advantage of every moment he gets.

“Got any new recommendations for me PG?”

Books are an easy starting point when it comes to you. Fourteen may be a graphic novel at best kind of guy, but your brain can’t seem to inhale enough books to satiate it. And just the thought makes his temples rush with heat.

He should dunk his head again.

You lower your Fitzgerald by one inch and raise an eyebrow to counter it. Just like your brother, you’re always one to give him a hard time. Make him work for every millimeter of ground conquered. And he’s pretty sure you have a smirk hiding behind the pages, though he can’t be certain due to the sunglasses hiding your eyes.

“Maybe,” you say. “What do I get in return?”

Answering that question about fifty different ways in his head, Tae decides none can be said out loud. He seriously needs to fucking reel himself in. Fourteen could return at any moment and the last thing Tae needs to have is a problem between his legs because you never make it easy for him.

But rather than listening to his very rational thoughts and very logical brain, he instead decides to say fuck it, and croons in the voice that used to fluster you as a teenager.

“What do you want in return, PG?” Hoping to soften you up, even the playing field a bit.

And it works like a charm.

Your body releases its tension on an exhale, your page is marked, book set to the side, and your legs extend and stretch before crossing at the ankle. It makes him wonder if your little girlhood crush on him still exists somewhere in the back of your mind. Probably not.

Scratch that.

Definitely not.

“What if I wanted a new nickname?” you ask.

Both his eyebrows raise in surprise. “What’s wrong with PG?”

“It makes me feel like I’m eleven,” you explain. And then hit him with a dose of his own medicine as you croon, “I’m not eleven anymore, Tae.”

No you sure as hell are not. And it kills him in a way that has him wanting to die over and over again.

He could consider it. But he doesn’t think he’ll change it, not when PG can stand for so many wonderful things. Things you would never think he’d let it when addressing you. Things that would have Fourteen trying for drowning attempt number two thousand four hundred sixty three, and succeeding.

“I’ll think about it—Fair?”

You ponder before agreeing. “Fair.”

“Now about those recommendations…” He reminds you, and that’s all it takes to get you going.

Fourteen comes out about ten minutes later, but by then, Tae has a new list of books to grab from the store, two laps under him with eight more to go, and you’re reading again—one bare leg bent at the knee he’s trying very hard to ignore when he comes up for air.

By the time he’s due for another breather, you’re talking to your brother about plans for the weekend.

“I’m going out early on Friday for Rei’s birthday, remember? And I’ll probably crash at her place after,” you say.

Fourteen is sitting on the second lounge chair across from you, most likely playing a game on his phone if Tae had to guess. But at your reminder, your brother looks up.

“Fuck that’s right. Okay so no dinner then, I’ll just grab something on my way in.”

“Sounds good. What about tonight?”

Fourteen gives it about two seconds of thought. “How about Don’s?”

Your face lights up at the suggestion. “Fuck yes! I’ve been craving their milkshakes for like a week. Hey Tae!” you call to him. “Don’s for dinner? There’s a chocolate shake with your name on it if you’re down.”

Tae pushes himself out of the water onto the pavement and doesn’t miss the sly once over you give him while Fourteen chucks a towel at his chest, covering your eyes with his other hand.

He catches the projectile before it can knock him back into the pool, and uses it to dry his hair.

“Dude! Seriously? Go find a fucking shirt or something, no one wants to see that.”

You swat your sibling’s hand away and give him a look that screams ‘grow up’ while Tae drapes the towel over her shoulders, a hand gripping at each end.

“I’m only down if Dumbass is paying,” he says, smirking at your brother.

“—What—”

“That sounds like an excellent idea,” you agree, holding out your hand in his direction.

“—Hey wait a seco—”

Tae grabs and shakes just to watch the steam flee Fourteen’s ears at the contact. He meets your eyes conspiratorially, and you both nod before rushing Fourteen.

“—You fuckers!—” is all he gets out before Tae and you are grabbing an arm and a leg each and throwing Fourteen’s fully clothed ass in the pool.

He curses the both of you out several times as he treads, drenched and dripping, up the stairs and out of the water. Tae throws him the towel.

“You’ll pay for that, Asshole,” Fourteen tells Tae, and Tae grins.

“Oh, I’m counting on it. Worth it though.”

“And you!” Fourteen says, eyes on you. “What the fuck dude? The betrayal to your darling, one and only brother hurts. I’m wounded,” he lays it on thick, walking up directly beside you.

You're a hairsbreadth too late to realize when he shakes his hair out directly over top of you and you shriek, pulling your knees up, protecting the book under your shirt and behind your legs at all costs.

“Fourteen! The book! I will kill you if you damage it!”

Fourteen chuckles. “Payback’s a bitch Little Sister.”

You sneer at him, checking your prized possession for injury. Not a scratch.

“And sopping wet is your colour, Jackass.”

“Big words for someone who can just as easily be thrown in the pool.”

You pause. Eyeing him directly.

“You wouldn’t.”

“Wanna bet?”

Your brother looks at Tae with an evil plot in his eyes and you screech as they both nod once. You drop your book behind you as they yank you up by your arms and fling you into the pool, too much momentum from them and not enough resistance from you leaving you matching your darling, one and only brother.

As you come up for air, two colossal splashes ricochet from the left and right. Tae and Fourteen having both cannonballed in on either side of you. You choke on splattered water for a second before you’re attacking them with splashes, merciless in your pursuit for revenge.

“You both suck!” you half giggle half yell.

“Yet you love us anyway!” your brother falsely—correctly—claims.

You roll your eyes before trudging out, heavier and dripping with your soaked clothes.

And it's not until weekend plans are cast aside for current memories, Taehyung treating you all to dinner, and you treating everyone to milkshakes, that all is forgiven.

It turns out Rei’s dad knows the manager of the most exclusive club in the city—Youth—and managed to call in a favour. So now you, her, and your other bestie, Lea, are all on the dancefloor to celebrate her birthday.

Rei’s first request for the night besides not paying for a single drink, was to dress up in the hottest, sluttiest outfits the club's dress code would allow for.

This, for you, meant a black, square necked, low cut, and thin strapped satin slip dress that hugged you in all the right ways, matching heels adored with ankle strap bows and a sultry makeup look. Lea chose a dark blue shimmery number with a high leg split, vibrant graphic eyeliner, and wedges, while the birthday girl found the skimpiest forest green mini dress you’ve ever seen paired with heels that wrap ribbons up her legs, and a subtle dewy look on her lids.

She’s glowing, and needless to say, they both look hot and so do you.

Rei’s second request for the night was to dance until you either collapsed or threw up, whichever came first. A goal you were all making a steady descent towards as the night progressed.

That is, until your blood runs cold at the sight of your cheating ex boyfriend making his way through the crowd in a direct beeline towards you.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

You’re alone right now. Rei and Lea are taking a bathroom break.

You insisted you’d be fine for ten minutes. It was just ten minutes. What could possibly go wrong in ten minutes?

But apparently god just loves to play jokes because here you are, three shots in, not emotionally prepared enough to be near him, let alone speak to him, and by yourself in this huge crowd of strangers while he’s making very good time on his route to you.

Fuck! You do not want to deal with him right now or—fucking ever, actually.

He’d cheated on you four times that he admitted too throughout your two and a half year relationship, all while faking being blindingly happy directly to your face. He’d lied to you and hurt you and made you wonder what you did wrong for him to do that to you. It took all of your third year of university and more therapy sessions than you care to admit to realize you were never the problem, and that he was a piece of shit.

So, with quickly shrinking fifteen feet between you two, you try your best to hide from him in the crowd, only to run directly into him when you duck past a fellow club goer.

Son of a b—

“Heyyy Y/N, how’ve you been?” he says like he didn’t destroy your entire sense of self worth for a couple quick fucks.

You want to down three more shots just to be able to puke all over him. Intentionally, you haven’t seen him in years and just the reek of his stale ass cologne has you close.

“Fuck off Micah, don’t you have somewhere you need to be sticking your dick—like a garbage disposal?” You snark, doing your damndest to not let him get close. But the throng of bodies surrounding you have other ideas and you’re thrown against your least favourite person in existence.

Delusional as ever, Micah sleezes, “Doesn’t seem like you want me to leave just yet, Kitten,” and you shove him off you as hard as you can while bile rises at the horrible name you used to beg him not to call you.

You need to get off the dance floor.

Now.

Before you can, Micah grabs your arm and he pulls you back into him, hard.

Tae watches you out of the corner of his eye, wondering why in the hell you came to this club, of all the clubs out there.

The club he was at. Wearing that and truly testing the limits of his self control.

Music blasts through speakers that move the ocean on the dancefloor. Bodies sway like waves, some crashing into one another with teeth and tongues and passion, others pushing with the current, grinding and gripping and grabbing at anything they can get their hands on. The louder and faster the notes whirl over their swells, the harsher the storm rages on, people flowing in and out of the eye when needed.

He’s sitting at a booth on a dais high enough to watch you in the hurricane whilst being out of eyesight, notably with one or two faces he barely recognizes enough to most likely be your friends.

They appear to be currents. They drag you into deeper waters and you let them, helpless to their siren call. Leading you to your place amongst the sea life, and reveling in the way the melodies wash over you again and again with every song that plays.

His eyes follow you as you dance, curious if Fourteen knows you’re here before flinging the thought out of his head as quickly as it entered. You’re grown now, don’t need protection anymore. A lesson he learned the day you returned from university after graduating.

No longer his best friend's kid sister who they kept an eye on, but a woman who was and still is growing into herself beautifully. A woman who is steadfast, strong and more often than not, correct in her opinions. A woman who is well read and equally if not more so well spoken when she deigns to acknowledge his existence. A woman who knows how and when to turn all of that off in order to team up with him in a roast battle for the books against her brother.

He thinks of that day as the beginning of his downfall.

He can humbly admit that his intelligence, demeanor and education are things that have been nurtured into existence by his parents and carefully maintained by himself with practice and both mental and physical exercise. He takes care of himself, inside and out. Exercises regularly, eats well, has good hygiene. He’s level headed and patient. Respectful and responsible. Controlled and competent.

He prides himself on these things. Actively works towards keeping them maintained.

And yet.

Somehow when it comes to you, he is little more than a single brain celled idiot.

All of the things he uses to measure his self worth evaporate whenever you enter his field of vision and he becomes fucking ravenous. And all of his focus goes into controlling himself.

He’d never noticed before, never thought of you in the way he does now. How when your currents break from formation and head towards the bathrooms, their outgoing force creates a riptide that some fuckhead with a stupid haircut uses to sweep in and dance with you.

But you push him away.

He doesn’t get the memo, and the mophead tries his best to yank you out to sea again.

Magma flows through Taehyung's veins, thunder cracks in his ears and all he can think about is storming through the crowd to steal you from said fuckhead by claiming you for himself.

But he won’t.

Can’t.

All because of his darling best friend.

Fourteen doesn’t know about his feelings for you of course. And Tae rather likes being alive and in one piece, two things he most definitely would not remain should he act on any of these feelings.

You are wholly off limits, forbidden. A little too young, a little too immediately related to his best friend, a little too perfectly his fucking type. It kills him every time he can’t even look at you without Fourteen going into what he calls ‘asshole mode’.

So you remain in his very close periphery. Untouchable to the fingertips he aches to caress you with as you dangle your existence in front of him. Your wicked tongue, your delicious intelligence, your sexy fucking legs—fuck!

He has to stop thinking about you like this.

But that only makes him want you more.

It’s like the gods handcrafted you for him. Every piece, every detail of you immaculate, but he committed one to many sins in his past life, and now they’ve locked you away forever as punishment.

You float across the night sky, stuck in a golden cell. Its fourteen bars hold you hostage amongst the stars, all while he’s chained to the bottom of the ocean floor gasping for air.

But fuck the gods and fuck their gilded cages.

He’d break from his chains, swim to the surface of the sea and grow wings. Would break your prison apart with the sheer force of his wanting, then drag you down to the depths if it meant he got to keep you for himself.

He would. He really, really fucking would. If his world wouldn’t implode completely if he did.

So he keeps these thoughts to himself. Forces them down as they try their damndest to bubble over and burn him, because they will if he lets them. If any of them get outside these little moments, the ones where he allows himself to feel, he would burn and burn and burn until there was nothing left.

Therefore, Taehyung has never been more grateful that his best friend was stuck on the night shift while he watched you dance and enjoy yourself, because it granted him this sliver of time to pretend like your brother doesn’t exist.

That you are something he could let himself have, if you wanted him to.

And he’s solid in his decision to only observe, to stay inside his little moment, until fuckhead doesn’t get the message for the third time and Taehyung is out of his seat before he can think.

Because Fourteen isn't here.

And old habits die hard.

“What the hell? Let me go, Micah!” You see his eyes then, red rimmed and glazed. He definitely has more than one thing in his system as his grip on you hardens further. The more you struggle, the tighter he grasps and—ouch, ouch, ouch, yank, fuck! Ow!—it’s really starting to hurt.

“Just give me one more chance Kitten, I promise I’ll do better,” he whisper in your ear over the music, and you cringe back from how loud he is. But that doesn’t stop him from continuing, “I fucked up, I know I did. But that was years ago, and I learned my lesson. Just one more chance Kitten, just one more, and I—I promise. I promise it won’t happen again. It won’t. I really miss y–AH! What the fuck!?”

The hand on your arm releases the second Micah yelps in pain. You look down to see familiar ringed fingers around Micah’s wrist, clutching so hard they’re white knuckled and skin bruising.

A broad chest comes to rest at your back, and an arm snakes around you. Its large palm rests on your stomach and hip as it pulls you tightly against its owner.

Words covered in sharpest ice are spoken from behind you, their baritone so recognizable they have you melting back into him.

Safe.

You’re safe.

Exhale.

“Do. Not. Touch. Her.” Taehyung growls so deeply, so powerfully, you feel the rumble from behind his sternum reverberate into your body.

Micah’s focus shifts from his wrist to the man several inches taller and several years his senior still holding it. You watch as his face contorts from pained to confused and then to murderous.

“The fuck are you to tell me not to touch my girlfriend?” Micah seethes, and you stiffen because no the fuck you are not, and haven’t been for several years.

How blitzed out of his mind is he right now?

You don’t even get the chance to deny his words before Taehyung’s on Micah like fire to dried grass.

“Don’t make me laugh, Asshole. No way in hell an pig faced looking fucker like you could pull a woman like her. Now,” Tae roughly shoves Micah’s hand back to him, and it forces Micah to stumble into the people behind with the force. “Get the fuck away from My Girl before I make you My Problem. And trust me,” Tae says in a tone so dangerous, you’ve never heard him sound so terrifying in the fifteen plus years you’ve known him, “You don’t want me to make you my problem.”

And you realize, that this isn’t the Taehyung you’ve grown up with; seen through his awkward teen years and watched come into his adult life with. This isn’t jazz music and poetry Taehyung.

This Taehyung has only ever come out the handful of times you’ve ever been in trouble. The one who studied Judo with Fourteen growing up, the one who has his fourth Dan.

The one who does not play when it comes to you and your safety.

It’s enough to know that Taehyung is more than pissed off, and more than a little ready to beat the absolute shit out of Micah, if the whiskey on his breath says anything about his loosened inhibitions.

Micah seems to sense this too, and decides to back off. But not without a stupid macho expression and two middle fingers directed at both of you as he disappears into the crowd, and out of sight.

You can feel the tension radiating off Taehyung in waves, a coil so tightly wound that a gentle breeze could set him loose, so you turn around and attempt to safely unwind. His hand moves from your stomach to your lower back, and you ignore the trail of wildfire it leaves in its wake because Tae’s eyes haven’t wavered from the spot where Micah just stood.

“Don’t.” You say, loud enough for him to hear. And his flame filled irises snap to yours, burning. “He’s not worth it.”

Your words seem to bring him back somewhat because Tae sniggers. “Damn right he’s not,” then softens. “Are you okay?”

You look anywhere but at him, the reality of the last three minutes crashing down onto your head like broken glass while the both of you are still caught in the middle of the dancefloor.

The people around you seem to understand something’s happened, and you’re left mostly untouched aside from the gentle nudges of inebriated party goers whose balance isn’t the best at the moment.

Like the mellowed waves in the eye of a storm.

Taehyung seems to make sense of this at the same time you do, and lifts his free hand for you to take. Slipping your fingers into his, he leads you to an unused and out of the way emergency exit hallway somewhere in the back of the club. It’s completely empty and dark, undisturbed besides the occasional server passing by.

It’s private.

It’s safe.

You’re safe.

He lets go of your hand and looks at you again. “Now, are you okay?”

The adrenaline is wearing off, and you can feel yourself start to shake. You ignore it. Sort of.

“I’m okay,” you say. But he’s eyeing you suspiciously and rightly so, so you repeat yourself, trying to convince your own brain more than his right now.

“I’m okay, really! I’m good. I’m–” you exhale a shaky breath and he doesn’t ask before pulling you to his chest. Wrapping both his arms around you, one around your back while the other holds your head protectively to him. Your own go around his waist as you grip him back tighter.

“I’ve got you,” he says.

“I’m okay,” you say again, muffled into his black high necked shirt, taking deep breaths of his soothing, familiar scent. You do it and again, and again. Repeating the pretty lie to yourself again and again until it becomes the truth.

He doesn’t let go until you do, and you don’t let go until you’ve finally stopped shaking.

You look up into his eyes, and all signs of his previous wrath are gone. It seems the hug didn’t ground just you, it grounded him too. Got him out of the headspace that would’ve been required for action first, words later. But now the sun is back, it shines down on you, and you bask in its warmth.

“I’m good now. Thank you,” you say in an even and unwavering voice, because you are. The panic and immense relief having washed over you, and you’re once again simply, pleasantly buzzed.

Though you do have a new problem in the form of the warmth pooling low from the feeling of both his hands still on your lower back.

You’re trying to convince yourself it’s his way of keeping you safe.

But the lock on your box has the key inside it, and it’s just begging for you to turn it.

“Good,” he replies, still not letting go. And it’s chipping away at your sanity. “Who was that guy? I only caught the last bit of his pathetic ramblings.”

You wince. Due to a lovely combination of not being very active on social media, not being much of a picture taker, and the newly dyed hair Micah seemed to be sporting tonight, you’re not surprised Tae didn’t recognize him.

“Ah. Uhm…That was...Micah,” you admit, unable to meet his eyes again. That’s when you notice his outfit tonight is all black.

Oh you are so fucked.

“As in Micah, Micah?” Tae asks neutrally, familiar with what your ex had done, just not what he looked like.

“...Yeah...”

“I see.”

“Yeah...” You say again. Because what else could you say?

Tae cracks a smile. “Should’ve let me kick his ass. The balls on him not only to approach you, but to call you his—” he cuts himself off, biting the inside of his cheek before continuing in a hushed, caring tone. “After everything he’s done to you, you should’ve let me, PG. Consequences be damned.”

Your cheeks flame at the nickname so close to your ears. So tenderly said. And you honestly can’t tell if you still hate it in this moment, or if it’s only adding kindling to the fire his hands are fueling at the base of your spine.

The new name he’d called you earlier, its ignition point.

My Girl.

You swear, even in your panicked state, you’d momentarily forgotten how to breathe before inhaling far too much all at once.

Fuck, what you won’t give to hear him say it again. But you’re 98.9% sure that’s the three shots of vodka talking. Trying their best to turn the damn key. And maybe they succeed in turning it half way—hell, maybe all the way, because you look him back in the eyes and hear yourself say,

“Maybe I should’ve, but I was far too distracted by the new nickname you finally gave me to give a single fuck about anyone else.”

The moment the last word is out Taehyung stiffens beneath your touch, fingers locked on your back, and you’re very pretty sure you just fucked absolutely everything up.

Years of good behaviour, of keeping yourself in check. Of pockets of time and side long glances and knowing nothing would ever happen, stolen from you. By your own big, fat, adrenaline depleted, vodka loosened mouth.

You're a second away from damage control before his grip shifts from your lower back to your hips.

Higher. Tighter. Controlling. Oh fuck.

He leans down to murmur, “Liked the new name, did you?” in your ear.

Shivers shoot from your crown to your core and down to your toes. Having his deep, deliciously inviting voice so fucking close to your pulse point has you millimeters away from drowning in it. You know he can feel it course through you, just like you can hear the smile it makes him display away from your eyesight as he does.

“You did then,” he responds for you, a cat toying with its meal as he lifts his head once more to look into your eyes.

You don’t need a mirror to know the state of your pupils. Your gaze is glazed over in the sinful kind of way.

“I did,” you needlessly confirm, looking up into similarly blown out ones.

The fingers twined behind him release, and make their way around to his abdomen. They pause to splay for just a second at the defined ridges, before slowly crawling up his chest and meeting again at the nape of his neck.

They play with the soft hair there, gently scratching their nails at the skin beneath where it grows and you watch as your ministrations cause his eyes to roll back, flutter shut, and his head to meet the wall behind him. A barely audible moan escapes the confines of his lips before he swallows, the divine bob of his adams apple as he tries to regain his composure is the dawn of your undoing.

“Fuck, PG that isn’t fair,” he groans towards the ceiling, his hands on your waist clamping down harder, pulling you so close your bodies touch in more places they definitely shouldn’t be. The contact has you reeling and all you want is more, more, more of it.

More of him.

“PG isn’t the name you called me earlier,” you hum, yanking on a single loose strand and Tae sucks in a steep breath, biting the corner of his smirking lip with a canine.

You want to hear him say it again. Badly. So you release the sensual grip you have on his nape, and let his head lul slowly back down to where it was, his deepening amber wholly fixated on your now entirely onyx. Your heart is begging for release from your chest, and for a moment you wonder if he can see your pulse thrumming in your eyes, because you sure as hell can feel it.

“No, it’s not. But it also hasn’t meant to me what it means to you for quite some time now,” his voice like honey, thick and dripping its way over your body. It’s making you dizzy and weighty with want. It has your mouth opening slightly as he leans closer still, knocking his nose gently with your own. Inhaling in your exhales. Teasing you. Making you work for it.

“And what does it mean to you?” you ask, barely above a whisper, irises never straying from his as your bottom lip brushes against his in one solitary, intoxicating moment that has you more buzzed in one touch than three shots has had you all night.

“Pretty Girl,” he breathes onto your lips, pushing his thigh between your legs at the same time he pulls you impossibly closer. You hear yourself moan ‘fuck’ at the contact it gives your throbbing cunt. Too focused on the need coursing through you like a live wire—your body pure water—to think about what you’re saying.

It’s a sweet sound and a violent pleasure he devours as his lips finally, finally, finally crash into yours, pinning you in place and allowing him to take every piece of you he wants. One hand slithers up your naked spine to hold you, your backless dress doing you every favour imaginable as his other continues to help you grind over his thigh.

His tongue slips into your mouth and you suck on it, causing him to jerk into you once with the rapidly growing want pressing into your lower belly. But your hands hold firm at his neck as you pull him into you, a knee lifting to meet his hip. Needing more contact.

The electricity filled pathways his fingers leave down your back, over your ass and across the bottom of your thigh to support your search for pleasure do nothing but spur on the overwhelming need to touch him everywhere.

No holds barred. No clothes worn. Nothing stopping you.

He uses his new grip to spin you around and press his hips into yours as your shoulders meet the wall. You’re left to moan sickly sweet sounds of bliss into his ear as Taehyung frees your mouth in favour of your jaw and neck, sucking gentle purple hues down the column of your throat and onto your collarbone.

“Pretty Girl,” he whispers between love bites, “My Pretty Girl.” Over and over and it has you melting so far into him, the only thing keeping you apart is fabric and a potential audience. Though from the colour you’re going to have to cover with far too much concealer tomorrow, you don’t think he quite cares about that last part.

It drives you farther into insanity. Years of want and restraint and pretty white lies you told yourself are crashing down on one another and it shows in the fervor of your touch, your wants, your pleads.

“Fuck, Tae—please. Please, I need you— please,” you beg, and the bite he leaves at the junction where your neck meets your shoulder has you gasping for air that refuses to be consumed gently.

But Taehyung is a man on a mission. One who will not be deterred, and you can’t tell if he will be your pinnacle or your inevitable end.

With what is very clearly great effort, Tae pulls himself back from your decolletage, only to kiss your lips once more. Open mouthed and dirty, tongue clinging to you like the only thing he’s concerned about is swallowing down as much of you as he can while you’ll let him, and you’ve never felt more desired in your life.

He’s hoarse as he says, “Not here. Not for the first time. Not…not here.”

“Then where,” you ask, near impatient and far too eager as you let your hands roam wherever they want. And you find your thumbs tracing the waistline of his pants, dipping a nails width below where they should. They trail over the indented V of muscle you know is hiding under his shirt. He shudders.

It makes you smile wickedly.

“Then where, Taehyung,” you murmur into his neck with that wicked smile in your words as you trace your nose along his jaw.

“Fuck, you’re something,” he says, almost pained, bringing you immense delight. To know you affect him as much as he does you. That you have him as much as he has you.

Sly hands slowly pull his shirt from his trousers in an attempt to urge him on. It works, and his response is quick.

“My place. It’s a ten minu—fuck PG,” he almost scolds as your digits toy with the hair at his navel, dipping lower—enough to feel the beginnings of something—but not low enough to discern anything.

Yet.

“Can you behave for that long?”

You smirk.

Retracting your hands, you hold them up to show you can be good, do a quick once over to make sure you're decent and spin on your heel to walk towards your booth. Tae is behind you immediately, hand placed low on your back, thumb rubbing circles on the sliver of skin it touches. You ignore the goose bumps that arise.

Rei and Lea are at your table, thankfully. You explain to them you ran into Micah and that it really shook you, so Tae’s going to take you home. They know who Tae is, so they’re not worried when they give you goodbye hugs or when they tell you to text them when you're home safe.

You promise you will, and hope that the rest of Rei’s birthday goes well.

True to his word, it’s a ten minute rideshare before you’re pulling up to a tall, black windowed apartment building.

You’ve only been to Tae’s a handful of times with your brother, mostly for things like pick ups for concerts and such, but now that you’re here—alone with him—you’re trying hard not to jump him in the fucking lobby.

The pulsing between your legs has only worsened since you removed your hands from his waistline, and you’re close to crawling out of your skin with need.

His hand stays in its place at your lower back as the elevator climbs.

It’s not helping and completely helping at the same time.

Fuck.

Tae lives on the sixteenth floor and the view is incredible. It’s the first thing you see past the island when you walk in the front door. There’s the kitchen to the left past the entrance, which turns into the living space that’s furnished in a way you can only describe as pure Tae.

Books littering every surface, warm neutral toned furniture to counterbalance the colourful artwork he keeps on the walls. There’s an old record player with a collection of vinyls in the corner and what you assume is this morning's coffee mug on the art book filled coffee table.

To the right of the living space is the bedroom. It’s a studio apartment, but Tae’s managed to keep the flow of the place beautifully with some creatively put, gorgeously decorated room dividers. And the tall floor to ceiling windows wrap around it all, showcasing the lights of the city as they blend into the stars in the night sky.

Mesmerizing.

Just like the man locking his door behind you.

A kiss is placed on the back of your neck as you slide out of your shoes at the front door. You angle your head to allow more space, letting the arm that folds around you bring you closer to him. The feel of his arousal begins to grow behind you once more and you push back against him. A faint grunt meets the shell of your ear before his hand delicately slides up from your lower stomach and past your sternum. It teases your neck for just a moment before it meets your jaw to turn your lips towards his.

He captures them in a brutal kiss, drinking you in for all you’re worth and then some as his other hand replaces the one that now holds your jaw in place. He pulls you into him but you spin in his hold, throwing your arms around his neck once more and dragging him towards the living space. He sheds his jacket in the process, uncaring of where it lands on his floor so long as you are still kissing him.

You only stop when your ass meets the top of the couch and Taehyung palms the back of your thighs to lift you, your legs wrapping themselves around his hips as you sit on its edge.

He growls at the contact and it has you raking your nails down his neck and over his shirt as you open for him once more, tongues clashing and teeth scraping at the desperate nature you both share. You yank his shirt up and he breaks from your embrace for only the amount of time it takes for the fabric to hit the floor before he’s back on you, adding twin bruises to the other side of your throat.

You let the strings holding up your dress fall naturally to the side, revealing your chest to him, and a low, “Fucking hell,” is murmured somewhere below your ear before a nipple is in his mouth and you’re arching into his touch, slices of need shooting straight downwards. Giving no mercy to your attempts to draw out the pleasure.

One large hand cups a breast, molding it to his wanting before he switches and you’re groaning into the air above you, begging him for more, determined to have his tongue anywhere and everywhere you can get it. He lavs at your peaked bud, roaming over the sensitive flesh, making you squirm at the sensations he’s drawing from you.

You never want it to end as he makes his way back up to your mouth, dragging his bottom lip over all of the freshly deepend skin it trails in its wake, making you hazy with the feel of him and his marks.

His delicate touch wanders the insides of your thighs and your cunt aches for it the higher it climbs. But it slides up not down, reaching around to your ass and hoisting you onto his hips.

Turning, he walks the eight paces to his bed, places a knee on the mattress for support before setting you down. His lips never leave yours he crawls over you, settling his hips over yours for mere moments, allowing you to thrust only twice before he’s removing himself completely and sinking to his knees.

The fingers you’ve spent way too much time thinking about can’t get enough of your skin as they skate down your sides, taking the dress bunched at your hips with them. You raise your hips to help him get the scrap of fabric off, leaving a delicate, black lace thong the only thing keeping any of your remaining modesty intact.

You watch as his now fully blackened gaze takes you in, jaw dropped in slight at the sight of you with your legs opened on his bed. Like you were the prize he’s been waiting years to claim, and now that you're here and that you’re his his, he can’t quite believe it.

It’s then you realize that he wants you, and has been wanting you. That your attempts to stay in reality these last couple years weren’t just harder for you, but for him as well.

It hasn’t been one sided.

He wants you.

Taehyung.

Off limits, older brother’s best friend, swim club participating, jazz and poetry loving, judo knowing, book gifting, perfect smile having, protective, Taehyung.

Wants you.

You can physically feel the gush that rushes from your core at the thought and you know Tae can see it through the lace.

“Holy fuck…you’re fucking drenched and I haven’t even properly touched you yet,” he rasps, unbelieving.

“Then touch me and find out just how much I want this,” you whisper. Begging, pleading, praying your words have their intended effect. “How much I want you, Taehyung.”

The sound that leaves his throat is a mixture of a whimper, a groan, and a guttural noise indicative of pure desperate want as he takes hold of your legs and spreads them further. Those mother fucking fingers trace from your ankles to your knees accompanied by the occasional light kiss, back up your inner thighs, and finally to the spot where you’ve been weeping for him for the better part of thirty minutes with a heaping side of ten years yearned.

He places one open mouthed kiss on the top of your clothed clit and that simple touch has you arching, lightning crackling through your veins with the pleasure it brings. Tae slides one single finger down your covered slit before pushing it under and pulling it to the side.

At the mere sight of you he’s swearing so fiercely under his breath that you involuntarily clench and he can’t fucking take it anymore.

His mouth is on you and you buck at the sensation. Yielding you no mercy, his tongue swipes from opening to clit in one long lick that has you gasping, clutching bed sheets above and below your head to keep from screaming.

“Oh my—Fuck—Tae. Ohmygodohmy—” you’re rambling. Incoherent. A mess.

He’s consuming your very being, no nerve left untouched, no reaction too minimal for his learning as he snakes his hands around your legs to haul you closer, pull you deeper into his mouth and you can’t fucking take it. You’re screaming out at the intensity he circles you with, and you can feel your impending orgasm come rushing to the surface. You’ve barely even processed it’s begun before you’re spasming so hard Tae has to remove an arm from your leg to throw around your pelvis.

His devious fucking eyes meet yours for one earth shattering moment as he slips two fingers inside and begins a secondary merciless pursuit on your already overwhelmed senses. Using the pads to press upwards in time to the motions he never ceased with his tongue, a second wave is cresting before the first has ceased and you feel yourself clamping down, legs holding him in place as the intensity of your release climaxes.

You’ve never felt a pressure so intense before, it’s like your body is a volcano and you’re erupting for the first time while someone sets off fireworks from its peak. The lava flows in waves, your hand holding his hair as you ride his face, shuddering at the vibrations his moan into your cunt leaves on the most sensitive parts of your body.

Gentle strokes and licks calm as your pleasure begins to wane and you can breathe in more than just stuttered inhales again.

“Holy fu–” you try to get out, but your voice is hoarse, like you’ve been screaming the entire time.

And fuck, maybe you have been. You sure as hell can’t remember or think of anything more than the warm fuzzy feeling currently radiating from every single pour in your body. The damningly deliciously dizzying feeling in your head not allowing for coherent thoughts to pass. Your limbs are loose, your body wholly relaxed.

You’re…Well. You’re fucking perfect right now. If you could stay in this moment forever you would without second thought. Locked in this room with him for all time sounds like the best way to live out the rest of your days.

Until you wince as Tae blows warm breath on your core and he chuckles, then does it again.

“Hey,” you say, sounding much clearer now, “Stop that and come here.”

You slip your hand down his face and grab him by the jaw, pulling him up and over you. Tae tastes like fire and whiskey and ambrosia and you as you kiss him with abandon, near feral as you take what you want from him and he revels in it.

He’s on his elbows and a knee over you, and you use it to your full advantage to palm him over his pants and—Fuck he’s big. No wonder he was so thorough on you. This is going to hurt no matter how much prep either of you did.

He hisses at the contact and that only spurs you on, grasping firmly at his base and roving up and over the head with the heel of your palm, squeezing gently in time with his reactions.

“Christ PG, if you keep doing that I’m going to cum in my pants,” Tae laughs into your neck before rising to sit back on his heels. He gets as far as undoing his belt buckle and button before you take over, sitting up and pulling him out.

He is disastrously beautiful, just like the rest of him, and your mouth waters at just the idea of him in your mouth.

Licking your lips, you hear him curse quite colourfully as you take the tip into your mouth and swish your tongue over the head. Once. Twice. Thrice.

Tae raises one hand to his eyes and the other behind him to hold him up as you take him deeper, shaking from restraining himself so hard, murmuring to himself, “Oh fuck. Fuck me, can’t believe—so fucking good, pretty—perfect—ohmygod,” and you seal the motherfucking deal by taking him into the back of your throat and looking up into his eyes at the same time.

Taehyung barks and bucks once into your throat before removing himself and throwing you down onto the bed. He looks furious in the way that gets your heart racing, your cunt thrumming and your breathing so fast your chest feels like it might shatter from the crosscurrents.

He grabs each of your hands and raises them above your head, sliding his fingers up your wrists and between your own, holding them in place on his pillow.

Leaning down, he uses his lowest timber to speak darkly into your ear, teasing your swollen clit with the tip of his cock. Sliding back and forth, sending bolts of white hot need through you.

“You drive me fucking insane,” he starts, thrusting, teasing, torturing. And you moan at the contact.

“You make me want to throw away a decades old friendship just for the chance to touch you.”

Thrust, tease, jolt, whine.

“And what’s worst of all is you’re the best thing I’ve ever tasted, the most beautiful I’ve ever seen, and you turn me into a complete idiot the second you enter the room. It’s like your fucking presence takes away all the working functions in my brain and leaves me with only the incurable fucking desire to make you cum until you can’t remember you own fucking name. Only mine.”

Thrust, squeeze, glide, jolt. “Tae...” you whine, delirious with pleasure, drunk on his greed and delighted by his torture.

“I call you PG because it’s the only way I can get away with calling you anything more than your name around him.” He sounds almost angry with how low he growls. “And it means so much more than you could think.”

He leans further into you, so close now that his lips brush your ear as he speaks.

“My Pretty Girl,” thrust, “My Precious Girl,” moan, “My Perfect Fucking Girl.”

He releases one hand to line himself up with your entrance. “That’s who you are to me. That’s what I’m calling you when I call you PG. My Pretty, Precious, Perfect Girl. My Girl.” He slips past your walls, sinking deep and you both groan in euphoric unison. “Mine.”

Tae pulls out, slow and controlled.

Blissful.

Then pushes back in, methodically.

Torturous.

Feeling every inch you can take, which is every single fucking one.

Inevitable.

Bottoming out for the second time, you whisper, “Yours,” into his ear, and he turns fucking ravenous.

Setting an absolutely ruthless pace, he claims your body, taking what’s so clearly always been his. Your legs wrap around him again, digging a heel into his ass as you drive him closer, harder with every push. Then lay claim to the one thing you’re able to, taking his lips with yours and biting down hard enough to draw the most sinful groan from the back of his throat. Hoarse, deep, almost broken with how raw it is.

One hand bruises its fingerprints into your hip while the other holds him up over you, and you use this to your advantage, slipping one leg around his and flipping the both of you over.

You trail your tongue down his jaw to his clavicle, he tastes of sweat and lust and sex and it is the most intoxicating thing you’ve ever consumed. Creating your own gardens of little blooming flowers down one side of his neck and up the other, Taehyung moans greedily into your ear as your ride to match his thrusts, sending him deeper while you decorate your willing canvas.

Because as much as he wishes to lay claim to your body, you want to claim his as well.

“Mine,” you say, positioning yourself to take over completely, using the springs of the mattress to do most of the work for you.

“Yes,” he says. But that’s not good enough.

“Mine,” you demand, and let loose, pressing down on the mattress with your knees rapidly, creating the glorious effect you wanted. You watch as the up force from the mattress causes Taehyung to be driven into you so quickly he throws his head back, mouth dropped in pure ecstasy.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, YN, What the fuck—” he rambles, lost to the pleasure, biting his lip, going slackjawed, clenching and unclenching his fists into bedsheets that already have your handprints seared into them.

And you keep going, a little torture creation of your own.

“Mine,” you demand again, and this time, it clicks.

“Yours! Fuck, yours. All yours, only yours,” he surrenders and you slow back down to a regular pace, breathless.

It’s a great move but it’s exerting.

You all but collapse on his chest and he takes over, thrillingly pissed off due to your power play.

“So that’s how it’s going to be?” he asks, and you clench at his tone.

He removes himself and you whimper, but he’s maneuvering you like a ragdoll on the bed and you’re more than fucking willing to be thrown around.

He’s kneeling on the bed, lifting your hips and sliding into you in a doggy style, but then he’s doing the most insane thing you think you’ve ever seen. With an arm around your stomach he brings your back to his torso and twists you both to face the open floor to ceiling windows. One of your legs is thrown over his that’s up to splay you wide for the skyline to see, and you can see your reflection in the glass.

You look beyond fucked out, and so does he, and it’s the sexiest thing you’ve ever seen. But then his hand is sliding to your throat, and a whispered, “Is this okay?” finds your ears. You nod.

Gripping the sides of your throat, he slides his other hand to graze your clit before beginning his own version of the move you just pulled. Pumping into you at a pace that has your g-spot screaming from all of the attention it’s receiving, his fingers swiping deftly over the bundled nerves at the apex of your thigh whilst lightly cutting off the blood supply to your brain.

It has you twitching and hazy and dizzy in seconds. You can see yourself losing to the feeling so steadily building at the base of your spine in the glass. Mouth open, body willing, the man who’s been at the center of your wanting for longer than you can remember, its deliverance.

Dark, sex tousled hair, muscled forearms holding you up and driving you insane. Blackened eyes focused on you and only you through the mirror the darkness of the night’s sky has created for you.

It’s that visual that sets you over the edge when he releases your throat, and you feel a gush flowing from where you two meet.

“Fuuuck yes. My Perfect Girl, cum all over my sheets, drench my cock. That’s it,” he purrs in your ear and it’s doing nothing but sending shock after shock into your already over sensitive and pulsing cunt, letting your consciousness float somewhere above or below you, you don’t really care.

All you know is that you feel light as a feather and not of this earthly plane.

Taehyung removes himself and lies you down gently. He’s back inside soon after and it just feels right as he fills you, like it’s where he’s meant to be.

He hovers over you once more, and you lift a single knee to his hip, mimicking your position from the club as he thrusts into you with fervor, chasing his own high after delivering three mind shattering ones to you.

Reaching one hand to his cheek, you hold him as he kisses you, working himself to completion.

Using your other to deliver a few expert circles to your clit, so you can come together, you breathe in each other's release and drown in once another’s embrace.

You leave his name on your tongue this time. A gift. A cry so delicate that a tear falls from your cheek and he kisses it away.

Taehyung inhales sharply, before stuttering his exhale and an exquisite warmth fills you.

“F-f-uu-ckkk,” he shudders as he lets the aftershocks of his release claim you in the most basic and animalistic of ways. You drink in the vulnerable sound, taking his mouth with yours one final time as you bask in each other's pleasure. Silent but for catching breaths, exertion evident as you hold one another.

Taehyung rests on your chest. Lines are sketched gently with your nails up and down his spine and into his hair as he comes down, content in the afterglow, where nothing is wrong and everything is perfect.

Before consequences kick in and regrets form.

When he decides he’s ready, Tae lifts and removes himself from you and you can feel the remnants of your combined efforts slide down to the bedsheets.

Tae takes a single finger and gathers it up before pressing it back in. You hiss at the now tender flesh. Though the pain doesn’t stop the warmth newly pooling at the sight and feel and meaning.

He pumps it back in once, twice before removing his finger and placing it in his mouth to clean off. Your cunt flutters at the sight and Tae smirks, leaning forward to share his findings with you in the form of a filthy, open mouthed, tongue filled kiss. It’s slightly salty, slightly metallic but you pull him back for one last lick when he tries to pull away.

Watching him kneeling there, in the glow of moonlight, you realize just how truly beautiful he is. The shape of his illuminated profile, the expanse of his chest as he breathes in, the colour of his skin under silver rays. He’s stunning.

You smile up at him, spent, sated and so astronomically fucked if your brother ever finds out.

Tae must see the thought on your face, because he says, “Don’t worry about him. I’ll handle it.”

But you honestly don’t give a fuck about that right now. That’s a tomorrow issue. What you want to know is, “Did you mean it?”

“Mean what, exactly?” He specifies.

You sit up, eye to eye as he sits on the edge of the bed, one leg on the ground.

“All of it. Any of it.”

There.

Now it was out in the open. And the rest is up to him.

You could drag yourself back down to reality. Chalk this night up to booze and bad timing and perfect timing. Could convince yourself it was just one night and that it would have to be enou—

“All of it,” he interrupts, the most sincere expression you’ve ever seen on him on full display. “Definitely all of it. Every last fucking word.”

You slump on your exhale, so fucking relieved you didn’t have to keep trying to lie to yourself that you could forget this happened.

You’re laughing before you can fight it off, shoulders shaking. Smiling so wide it hurts.

“Uh..YN?” Tae asks, clearly not sure how to take your reaction and you compose yourself.

“That’s PG to you,” you say as you crawl onto his lap, and kiss him into oblivion.

It’s interesting to finally sit on the dock across the way in East Egg.

The fog is gone, the sky is a brilliant blue, and the little box you kept sits open next to you, the lock and its key lost somewhere to the depths below your feet. Funny how harmless it seems now that there’s nothing locked inside anymore, like it could never really have hurt you in the first place.

You take in your newly emptied creation, and quirk a brow when you see it move.

A wiggle at first, before it’s shaking and spinning and shrinking, turning from a box into a glass windowed locket. Golden and delicate and beautiful, with a matching chain. You ponder for a moment what it could be for, before turning to look down at the green light to your right.

An idea strikes.

Unclasping the little window, you lift the opened pendant to the green light. And to your delight, the emerald hue hops into its new home, closing its tiny windowed door.

You smile at the clever little light, lacing the chain around your neck, resting it on the middle of your sternum, right above your heart. Its brilliant hue shining brightly through the pane for all to see.

Funny how the green light you so longed for, longed for you back, and is now yours for keeps.

A/N 2.5: This is what has been rotting in my brain for the better half of two weeks so please enjoy, it was supposed to be short and trope filled to cure my writers block but apparently I am incapable of short. But trope filled it clearly is. Overall tho, I'm quite pleased with this one.

A/N 3: As always, thanks for reading, loves. Xoxo, - Yoon <3

Masterlist

#reviews #violet <3 #violetsiren90 #i got carried away responding to this...whoops #THANK YOU ALWAYS FOR EVERYTHING #I HOPE ANYTHING I DO CAN REPAY YOU CONSTANT LOVE AND SUPPORT #PG reviews #Kind Souls

915 notes · View notes

avakin-life-avacoins-diamonds · 2 years ago

Text

[Avakin Life Free Avacoins Diamonds Generator] wITHOUT HUman Verification

Avakin Life Hack – Free Cheats Generator for Unlimited Coins & Diamonds.Avacoins and diamonds without any limits! Only with Avakin Life Hack!Avakin Life Hack Unlimited Coins and Diamonds Generator No Verification 2023.

Hello to all you amazing players! Here you will learn how to use the Avakin Life hack and get free coins and diamonds. Our cheats generator tool is always available to you, there are no limitations on how many times it can be used. Use Avakin Life cheats on iOS and Android platforms without installing any mod or apk files and get unlimited money!

🔴 𝙂𝙀𝙏 𝙁𝙍𝙀𝙀 👉 𝘾𝙇𝙄𝘾𝙆 𝙃𝙀𝙍𝙀

Avakin Life Cheats Generator

Get Coins and Diamonds!

Alternative Link to Generator

We are testing, working and updating our generators each day. Please if the first link doesn’t work and you dont receive resources try with the second one!

Avakin life hack generator tool is the thing to use if you’re looking for a better game experience. It gives you unlimited free coins and diamonds every time you need resources. Learn how to use it below.

How to Hack Avakin Life for Free Coins and Diamonds?

Follow these easy steps and get free resources. You can always come back and use the generator again without any limitations!

Avakin Life free avacoins and diamonds - cheats generator tool

Click on the button above.

Select the number of free coins and diamonds you want and click generate. The next step is to put your game username and select between iOS and Android platforms. You will have to prove that you’re not a robot by downloading a free game or filling out a free survey. Finally, refresh the page and that is all.

Share our Avakin life cheats with others!

Avakin Life hack proof

About the Game

Let me tell you my story: I first found out about Avakin Life when a friend of mine told it was a good place to meet cool people that share my interests, do the same hobbies, and make the same stuff online. I was initially very skeptical, but after a little bit of convincing from my friend, I reluctantly installed the app on one of my first smartphones.

I jumped into my first room, and noticed my whole look was very barebones and minimalistic. I stood out from the crowd, and not in a good way. It was why I was too shy to add any permanent contacts and get together with the people I liked. This made getting xp and leveling a sort of a catch 22 in that I couldn’t get the clothes that I wanted, and I couldn’t get the pets I wanted, and almost nobody wanted to add me. I asked my friend on what I should do, and he told me to add him as a friend, and we could grind out the xp to get avacoins together.

I suspected that that was his reason for trying to convince me in the first place, but I went along with it and we started making some progress. I realized how fun the game could be and started interacting with more and more people, but having a limited wardrobe didn’t let me go to some particular events since I didn’t have a matching outfit. And speaking of limited, there were events that had unique clothes that I really wanted, but couldn’t get on time. This led me down a rabbit hole and I stared at YouTube videos for days on end trying to find an Avakin Life generator, regardless of whether it would be a mod or custom apk file. Unfortunately, the only things I was able to find were either scams that claimed to enable your Avakin Life account to receive unlimited avacoins, or just purely malicious programs.

But, I was able to make a huge breakthrough recently and this is the reason why I decided to make this video and share it with you guys and gals. If you’re looking to how to hack Avakin Life and use the cheat to generate diamonds and all other resources you might want to get, you’ve come to the right place. I also did a bit of digging, and for this Avakin Life hack to work on either Android or iOS, you will not need to mod your apk file, since everything is done server-side.

If you want to read on, I can explain the process to you. You first need to go onto the website that you can see being used in the video. After a simple read-through, you need to turn on the security encryption for your own sake. Personally, I haven’t tried to use the free avacoins tool without turning on the encryption, since it may jeopardize my account, so I don’t want to risk it one bit.

After that, you only need to type in your info and login details and select the package that you want to get. I recommend starting out with a mid-size offer, but since I’ve already done it quite a few times, I will have chosen the biggest package just for comfort’s sake. Now, the thing to remember is that due to this being completed between the website’s and the game’s servers, it’s not a foolproof way of getting unlimited resources, and you might want to retry it a couple of times just to make sure. Also, remember that this sort of process also takes a bit of time, so if you do everything correctly, you might want to wait a couple of minutes until everything syncs up. These Avakin Life cheats for coins and diamonds are all a bunch of zeroes and ones on the servers, and they can be modified with a bit of digital sleight of hand.

You also have to remember that sometimes, you will need to do some additional steps depending on your device, your ID and all of that, but that is mostly explained in the video. That’s the overall gist of it, but you should be able to go through the entire process without too much trouble.

Lastly, remember that we’re all a community here, and we all want to push each other towards greater heights and climbs. So, if you do have any questions, share costume ideas, or need help getting this Avakin Life hack to work correctly, hit me with a comment down below and I will try to help you out as much as possible. If, for some reason, I’m not able to, try to discuss it between yourselves and I will jump in if I can when I get a spare moment.

I know that the Halloween event just ended recently, so I want to hear your ideas on what you decided to wear for the event. And let’s not forget that we’ve also got Thanksgiving right around the corner, with Christmas just after it. I’m sure that there will be a lot of new trinkets, petkins, clothes, and accessories for you to get, and if you’re a completionist like me, you’re going to want to get them all, which is why this Avakin Life generator is a crucial tool for you to get.

1 note · View note

takerfoxx · 4 years ago

Text

What Your Favorite Puella Magi Madoka Magica Ship Says About You

Inspired by DoubleCa5t's series, and since we're probably going to get an official video sooner or later, I'm putting my version out while I can.

Also, this is all in good fun, so don't take any teasing seriously.

...

MadoHomu (Madoka X Homura)

You are a firm believe in the inherent eroticism of this image.

You have episode ten memorized.

You have a very specific emotional reaction to “Time After Time” by Cyndi Lauper.

You have severe problems with The Rebellion Story, particularly in how it upended the optimistic note that the original series ended on and recontextualized Homura’s devotion to Madoka as something unhealthy and even toxic, but you still can’t bring yourself to reject the movie entirely, because at the end of the day, even you have to admit that damn, that dress.

The phrase, “X character did nothing wrong” pops up a lot in your internet discourse.

You ship CatraDora.

KyouSaya (Kyouko X Sayaka)

You’re always a sucker for how the dynamic of Enemies to Lovers shifts from antagonism to devotion without losing its obsessive intensity.

Your ideal date can best be summed up as Be Gay, Do Crimes…after which you have to call your responsible friend to come bail both of you out.

You know that important stuff happens after episode nine, but to be quite frank, at that point you were too emotionally traumatized to get invested and were only watching out of a feeling of obligation.

You were uncharacteristically smug after watching The Rebellion Story despite what disproportionately little screentime your ship received.

You also ship CatraDora.

MadoSaya (Madoka X Sayaka)

You don’t understand what all the fuss is about when it comes to Enemies to Lovers when there’s a perfectly good Friends to Lovers right there.

This is the same joke as the first part of MadoHomu, but with the Hot Topic switched out for a Footlocker.

You lost your mind on 4chan over Persephone’s Waltz on more than one occasion and for more than one reason (hey, ErinPtah!).

KyouMami (Kyouko X Mami)

You read A Different Story, and probably listened to that one audio drama.

You’re a firm believer in the inherent eroticism of exes that still long for one another.

You feel that a lot of the issues that both these characters struggle with stem from how messy their falling out was, and had Mami been more supportive and Kyouko not abandoned her after the death of Kyouko’s family, a whole lot of grief could have been avoided.

MamiSaya (Mami X Sayaka)

Your ideal date is getting sempai to notice you.

You have gotten into at least one altercation with Anticrack-Kun.

MadoMami (Madoka X Mami)

Your ideal date is getting kouhai to notice you.

You’re just here for some girls being friends, gals being pals.

MamiNagi (Mami X Nagisa)

You were already shipping Mami with the human form of Charlotte before The Rebellion Story came out, and even afterward you’re still unwilling to let go despite how uncomfortable it makes you now, to the point where “Aged Up Characters” is a regular tag in your ao3 searches.

Either that, or…

HomuMami (Homura X Mami)

You’re a firm believer in the inherent eroticism of passive-aggressiveness.

You were tilting your head in a particular manner during that scene where Mami ties up Homura, and feel that how it ended was a real missed opportunity.

You had to pause The Rebellion Story for about five minutes after the gunfight, and after you continued you shouted, “Goddamn it, Sayaka!” out loud.

HomuSaya (Homura X Sayaka)

This is the same joke as the first part of MadoHomu, but with the Sanrio switched out for a Footlocker.

Your favorite ao3 tag is “Hatesex.”

KyouHomu (Kyouko X Homura)

You know what's better than one edgy badass girl with a tragic past? Two edgy badass girls with a tragic past.

You felt that both these characters spent too much energy pursuing someone that just weren't into them as they were, and would better off settling with someone on more equal footing.

You are a firm believer in the inherent eroticism of game recognizing game.

You really wish that they reached that ramen shop in the movie.

KyouMado (Kyouko X Madoka)

Your favorite highschool relationship dynamic is edgy delinquent/ray of sunshine.

You are a firm believer in the inherent eroticism of “gap moe.”

HitoSuke (Hitomi X Kyousuke)

You feel that these two characters get way too much hate, and everything that happened wasn’t their fault. Like, come on, guys. How could they have known that their teenaged relationship drama would be exploited by a race of emotionless alien groomers?

Your main priority is keeping things canon…and you don’t have a whole lot else to work with.

HitoSaya (Hitomi X Sayaka)

You feel that the most effective way of resolving a love triangle is eliminating the heterosexual options.

You feel that when Hitomi declared, “Girls can’t love girls!”, Sayaka’s reaction ought to have been, “Challenged accepted.”

SayaSuke (Sayaka X Kyousuke)

You just want good things for Sayaka, but only in a first four episodes kind of way.

You are heterosexual.

SayaHitoSuke (Sayaka X Hitomi X Kyousuke)

You feel that the best way of resolving a love triangle is by connecting the bottom two axis.

You are heterosexual. Or possibly bisexual. Well, regardless, you are really horny.

HomuHito (Homura X Hitomi)

You’ve played the portable game.

MadoHito (Madoka X Hitomi)

You are constantly frustrated at how little attention this ship receives. After all, weren’t they friends too? But instead people seem to be more focused on shipping characters that don’t even like each other or never even interact in the show, and at this point you’re just glad that I acknowledged it in this silly meme post.

MamiHito (Mami X Hitomi)

You want to be a wealthy, unmarried Victorian duchess who is noted by history for your incredibly close relationship with your lovely companion who lives with you, does everything with you, up to and including sharing a bed, and after both of your deaths scholars will make note of what great friends you must have been.

KyouHito (Kyouko X Hitomi)

You were going out of your way to piss off Anticrack-kun. And really, who wouldn’t?

KyouSuke (Kyouko X Kyousuke)

You were going out of your way to piss off everybody, and I salute your courage.

HomuJun (Homura X Junko)

You are really into Pixar moms.

Also, obligatory…

KazuJun (Kazuko X Junko)

This is the same joke as the second part of MadoMami, but you’re also really into Pixar moms.

MadoKyu (Madoka X Kyubey)

I can’t say for certain whether or not you’re a monsterfucker, but you certainly enjoy the chaos that the very implication of this ship creates.

PolyMegucas (Madoka X Sayaka X Homura X Kyouko X Mami)

You don’t understand why there has to be so much drama between all these different pairings. All the girls are wonderful in their own ways, and they would be so much happier if they just stopped fighting, formed a loving and mutually supportive team dynamic as was seen in the first part of the movie, and possibly smooched one another.

Also, you are extremely horny.

248 notes · View notes

amplexadversary · 8 months ago

Text

Oh man this is exciting!

Domon not responding to every message despite reading and appreciating them is so true to his character. I imagine he doesn't always know how to respond, so he doesn't respond, or gets distracted and forgets to come up with a response (I am so guilty of this myself -_-)

The conflict of "I'll give you two some time to yourselves ;)" versus "Oh god I need an adult I'm not ready to have the conversation that's going to lead to," is delightful. There are so many overdone romance/feeling miscommunication tropes out there and it is fucking NICE and REFRESHING to encounter an approach I've never seen used before.

I love the detail of the core lander sabotage also affecting Kyoji; that sounds like it's going to be a vital clue toward the reveal of who is out to get our heroes. Also seeing my faves get hurt gives me a warm and fuzzy feeling of wanting to coddle them.

I like that you know what the girls and Rain are doing (no potential plot holes on that front!). It might be better to divide that information up for pacing and tension purposes, though.

I'd keep the scene where the gals discover and reason away from the Haunted Honk Hotel as a cut away while the two groups are still separated. Keeping just that portion in place communicates to the reader that, yes, the search that they're expecting the girls would perform is happening, no, it's not going to save the guys, why that is, and serves to further raise the tension before quickly getting back to the spooky place.

If there is any action to happen after the two teams reunite (like if they're going after the people that attacked them), including the rest of that section as a recap for team core lander's benefit makes the most sense; it doesn't interrupt the spookums, it has a diegetic place in the story, and with the tiny taste of what the other half of the party was up to earlier, it gives the reader plenty of time to start wondering what was happening on the gals' end, making this section feel like a reward as opposed to an interruption.

Kyoji's "Horticultural Graduate Students" cover story; yeah he would go with that, the fucking nerd XD

Also love that you gave him the very briefly-implied-in-the-show newtype bullshit with a macabre bent. The specter of death following a character that's had a brush with it (or significantly more than a brush in this case) through either pre-established or new abilities is a classic thematic association; it is also like crack to me personally.

Aww Domon getting protective. Better not let Chibodee realize that until they're out of it, he's going to get even more flustered and defensive :D

I can practically hear Kyoji's internal monologue begging Domon to take the hint and discuss things, damn it. Schwarz was in emergency mode in the show and saw success in being a little more direct with Domon; Kyoji wouldn't necessarily benefit from that realization.

My thought after the segue: Hey, OP doesn't usually swear that much in text! Oh wait, this inclusion is verbatim XD You already know (or can infer) my thoughts on that section ;P

I do love that you've got plans set up for the identity, interactions, and secrets of these factions. The very abstract overview in my comment was as deep as I had gotten into it.

Royal Flush Haunted Honk - The Updated Bones!

Hello Internet Stranger looking up G Gundam on Tumblr dot com!

This is an idea for a Horror Alternate Universe involving Queer Non-Canon Relationships between the characters of the series.

It is based on the idea in the post that is linked above.

If you are not looking for this content please scroll on.

If you ARE looking for this content - and you're ok with reading my and other's Headcanons for this Alternate Universe I've haphazardly spun up -

Then go ahead and feel free to:

Check The Tags Of This Post For The Pairings

and click the Read More below!

Also the majority of the brainstorming is happening in the replies if you're so inclined.

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

Behold! The Update! It's the bare bones intro and the outline! It's 2.5K! Whoops! 😅

Some of this is just straight copy and pasted from the notes and other bits have been lightly reworded or built upon to connect to other bits.

I've gotten some scenes sent to me by @thedragonchilde that I loved and I think will fit in well with what we've got so far for the fic.

If you'd like to link or reblog them please do!

@amplexadversary feel free to message me or reblog with scenes you've thought up or written up! I can't wait to read them!

I think we've set the stage pretty well to start brainstorming the horror and whump! 😃

I'll see y'all in the replies for ideas on new plot points! 🪦💥🌩

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

This is backstory and general outline only.

It is barely edited. Typos abound.

The dialogue is extremely minimal and it is a framework upon which to build the fic. 💖

I am giving this explanation for the benefit of internet strangers as all parties working on this fic are already familiar.

Hello Internet strangers! 👋

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

Wherever the tendrils of the Devil Gundam hovered over the earth, and subsequently were destroyed, are places that may have had DG cells distributed through the atmosphere.

Atmospheric DG plumes have lead to DG infection in those areas. There's also likely tendril debris.

Neo-Japan, since the Devil Gundam's destruction, has been working with Neo and world governments on a cure for DG infection.

At the moment the current treatment involves Kyoji or Schwarz controlling the DG cells of the individual and shutting them down; however, they are making breakthroughs with advancements on a nanocite injection that they're synthesizing with an executable program that shuts the DG cells down.

The biological compatibilities are the hurdle at the moment as evidenced in animal testing.

Kyoji and Domon are traveling to some sites in the USA that were affected by tendrils. Domon is there as a body guard since Schwarz is handling infection cases elsewhere (unspecified).

Chibodee is their escort. America is a Different Beast to Japan even in the future. So they'll need an escort to get through the militant landscape and across the sheer distance of it all.

Rain wanted to come with them, but with the volatility of the current landscape of the US - Especially where they're going - Kyoji didn't want to needlessly risk her safety.

He's assured her that Domon, Chibodee, and Chibodee's team will be watching his back.

Dr. Kasshu will be with them for the first days in New York to help with setup of the mobile lab before heading back to Neo Japan to continue working alongside Rain.

Once they've rested and are ready to head out, Domon, Chibodee, Kyoji, and The Gals will take Neo America's Core Lander and a mobile lab to the TD Site and it should be a fairly straight forward affair since they've gotten permission from the national and state governments, as well as permission from Gunsinto to be in the area.

They shouldn't be more than a few days travel to get there and retrieve samples and data and get back. He should be gone a week at the absolute most.

Kyoji gives rain the contact info to their hotel in New York as well as their sponsored Gunsinto accommodations in the Midwest and lets her know that he'll call once they've arrived palnetside.

He makes good on that promise the next day, letting Rain know that their shuttle landed, Chibodee and the girls picked them up without hassle, and lets them know that they're set to have a great dinner at a favorite restaurant of Chibodee's that evening.

Seeing Chibodee is like a breathe of fresh air that Domon didn't know he needed. Life has been so needlessly complicated lately but after Chibodee releases him from the bear hug given in greeting and throws an arm over Domon's shoulders they fall into step as if they'd never been apart.

Keeping in touch wasn't exactly easy. Domon doesn't respond quite as often as Chibidee would like, but every message Chibodee left was listened to and saved.

Ever since they got wind of this mission it's all either of them has had on their minds for days.

I need some help here with feelings and dialogue and inner thoughts but Basically

They both independently realize with clarity over the days leading up and the time in New York how much they've missed each other and how easy and comfortable it all is - being teamed up again.

Domons semi-recent revelations and feelings fresh on his mind. Chibodees crush ever looming.

Hearts racing. Feeling lighter than they have in God Knows How Long. Chibodee smiling so much his face cramps. Domon feeling so comfortable and nearly zen he loses his permanent frown from constantly thinking and just vibes. Smiling occasionally even!

Chibodee proposes they spar real quick before dinner "To work up an appetite! And C'mon! I wanna see what I'm up against in the upcoming Gundam Fight!" With a grin slamming his left fist into his open right hand. (He's left handed right? Or was that someone else?)

They Spar and there's Feelings

(I have a small scene outline put together for the spar for your consideration. @thedragonchilde has submit 2 scenes that would be great for just after the spar and are an awesome read! I'll include my outline for the spar scene in a reblog)

Then they have dinner together and later part to settle in their hotel rooms for the evening.

The next day they focus on briefing the expedition and setting up the Mobile Lab that The Gals will be in charge of transporting.

Once the lab is set up, they see Dr. Kasshu off on his shuttle back to Neo Japan that has been on standby since they arrived.

Kyoji volunteers to ride with The Gals under the excuse of getting a head start on some data processing - to give Domon and Chibodee some time alone together.

Chibodee is not about to let himself be alone in a Core Lander with Domon for HOURS. He may blurt out something he regrets. He insists that Kyoji ride with them and leave the Gals to themselves.

As they make their way out west, Chibodee starts explaining why they'll want to keep their guard up.

There's been a lot of unrest recently and especially the last 10 years since Gunsinto bought out the last of their land and displaced so many communities.

Domon asks occasional questions but Kyoji isn't saying much of anything at all. Opting to rest most of the journey. Domon seems tense, which is understandable considering the events before they left New York.

Suddenly they hear gunfire and what might be a canon of some kind.

They expected resistance outside of Gunsinto territory but they didn't expect it after they crossed the border!

Aren't the Greenlords supposed to be patrolling the area???

So they're on the run from a group that blames Domon and Kyoji for all the bullshit post DG Incident. The group is made up of various parties working together to hold Neo Japan responsible for their crimes against humanity since nothing held up in court and Neo Japan is currently in control. Plus near endless bitterness at America's loss of Super Power status for decades and the effect that that has had on their economy and natural resources put under stress from these Big Space Battles.

Chibodee and The Gals are aware of THIS group of violent individuals… but they're not aware of the OTHER group of violent individuals. (The Clown gangs are kept under wraps by the Greenlords - Gunsinto's private militia similar to to the Pinkertons as going public would be an embarrassment and an open invitation to more trespassers.)

They have a good idea of what weapons they have at their disposal and what their general tactics are.

They decide to split up and have The Gals create a distraction to lure the majority of the aggressors off before rendezvousing close to the TD Site in this region.

After they split, the core lander has some issues and breaks down in the middle of nowhere. As they break down Kyoji has an awful headache. There's a terrible signal he can feel and he knows it affected the core lander's processors but he's not sure what it is.

(It's a device that broadcasts a malicious signal that infects the processing units of hovering vehicles - was gonna be an emp but realized that would mess up their gps. It has only a very mild effect on DG cells it seems. Their GPS was made by the Kasshus with DG tech so it's unaffected. - Their communicator was issued by Gunsinto and was not so lucky - it's dead.)

Luckily for them their map data integrated into their GPS shows there should be a former town nearby.

The nearest town is seemingly abandoned. There's simply not enough water here according to Chibodee.

The only building not completely crumbled is a lone Motel. Chibodee curses his Rotten Fucking Luck. (Clown Music!)

They're exhausted from carrying their emergency supplies through the heat of the day. They're not going any further. This will have to be it. Domon is clearly tense and Chibidee seems about to jump out of his skin but Kyoji doesn't really know why. He could be over sensitive after sitting with their tension in the core lander and then walking with them through the heat.

Chibodee considers attempting to convince them to camp outside but with the wind picking up as bad as it is, he has no leg to stand on. They'll be sleeping inside.

Strange though. There's a light on. That's odd.

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

Meanwhile The Gals have incapacitated the pursuers after radioing in help from the Greenlords who are cooperating on this mission.

They're of course like “Whaaaaaat? That's Crazyyyyyyyyy.” And don't breathe a word of the Other Issue inside The Fields. Instead electing to simply refuel the mobile lab and send some extra men with The Gals as escort.

The girls start back on their journey to Rendevous with the guys.

The arrive at the TD Site with no sign of the guys. After waiting 2 hours they decide to try and ping their location.

There's no result. What they assumed was poor signal is worrying them now.

As they double back in the direction the guys should have been coming from they discover the crashed Core Lander and some prints headed South West.

They check their maps of the area which indicate a former town a few miles south west. They hop in their mobile lab and head that way.

When they make it to the town, the only standing structure is a Clown Themed Motel that looks like it was pulled straight out of a historical classic horror film.

They share a look. There's no way Chibodee would be here. They decide to check for other towns and head further south. Eventually as it starts to get dark the escort advises that they head to the designated accommodations for the evening and the Greenlords will start a search.

Kyoji kept his word to Rain that he and his father would check in when they arrived in New York. When the second day stretches on with no word Rain starts to worry.

Her father has made it home, but she's still heard no word from Kyoji.

On Rain's 5th call in as many hours -at about 2:00 AM- The Gals answer.... it's Bad News.

They've been separated by a roaming militia group hellbent on serving American Justice to these Neo Japan Planet Destroyers. The Gals were supposed to Rendevous with Chibodee and the guys at the TD site but they never showed and they didn't find them on their way to the Gunsinto Accomodations either.

The Gals reassure her that the Greenlords and Gunsinto are starting a search and they should have word soon.

Dread starts to settle in the pit of Rain's stomach.

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

Meanwhile The Guys walk into the Hotel expecting it to be abandoned. It certainly looks that way from the outside.

As they walk in though, they meet a rather average looking man smoking a cigar and watching some movies on a TV in the corner of the dark Lobby.

He looks surprised (he isnt) and quickly stubs out his cigar in the ash tray nearby before walking into the only light in the lobby by the front desk.

He welcomes them with a smile and asks how many guests. Letting them know that unfortunately he's only got one room available and There's Only the One Bed. He asks if that's alright.

Chibodee sputters. Shocked that there's someone here at all. He asks as much and the man says that the Hotel is a side business of the Greenlords’ for “Employee Services” if you catch his drift.

Average guy asks after them as he's never seen them before. Kyoji has a bad feeling and smooths things over by advising that they're there as horticultural graduate students studying genetic modification with their Professor and a few other students. Kyoji tells a tale of how they got separated in the fields and this was the closest area with shelter according to their map data.

The Average guy is surprised to hear that they have a functioning GPS and says that this area has bad signal. It's a blessing they can find their way.

He directs them to their room and leaves back toward the lobby.

Kyoji has a bad feeling. He can sense a ton of corrupted DG cells nearby. Somewhere underground, but isn't sure why or what it means.

He also keeps getting flashes of screaming men and women in clown costumes….

He relays as much to Domon privately as Chibodee is clearly already on edge and doesn't need any more stress.

Kyoji asks Domon if Chibodee is alright. Domon informs him that clowns and clown imagery is a problem but there's really nothing they can do about it in this situation. His fists are clenched. Domon i's pissed they have to stay here.

Kyoji takes a moment to let Domon know he'll take the floor and for Chibodee and Domon to take the bed. This throws Domon for a loop, but before he can argue Kyoji insists that out of the 3 of them he can probably take the most stress and that Chibodee looks like he needs someone to sleep next to.

Kyoji also mentions that he'll be blocking his hearing on a nano level to give them privacy in case they need to talk. Domon is a bit flustered by this but decides to take it in stride and go to Chibodee who is pacing and silently melting down. He looks like he's about to both through the window and back into the fields.

Domon puts a hand on Chibodee’s shoulder and suggests they go ahead and bunk down for the night.

He and Domon each take a seat on the end of the bed while Kyoji remains standing and they discuss Watch Rotation.

It'll probably be better to have 2 people awake and 1 person resting at any given time.

None of them trust this guy at the front desk. Especially not Kyoji.

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

Not sure how to segue from bunking down to the horror bit below gracefully; but I know we need to.

I feel like it's the perfect time for Domon and Chibodee to take Kyoji up on his offer of audible privacy to have a quick heart to heart..... before it's unfortunately and terrifyingly interrupted. 😨

Mostly because I'm mean. 😂

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

My first thought for 4 is that it probably looks like a normal-ass bed but in the middle of the night when both the guys are like half asleep, a clown hand bursts up from the center of the mattress in a classic zombie style Then an improbable amount slowly crawl out of that same hole as Chibodee drags Domon to the door (Domon for his credit is ready to beat a clown with another clown)

Since the FC does have the lightest touch of Newtype bullshit (mostly seen in the Schwarz/Rain chase scene where Schwarz gets the newtype flash), I'm interested in it being ghosts because the NT thing sometimes goes that way.

Ghosts usually have some kind of backstory as to why they're around, and I think it fits the setting to have a sort of clown culture war going on

so you have gangs like the one that killed Chibodee's mom, and then you get ordinary clowns going vigilante to hunt the ones that do that down for flagrant violation of the clown code

But the problem with vigilantism is you sometimes get the wrong guy, so that eventually happens and another group of clowns goes vigilante to go after the first group because they've gone bad (doesn't matter whether or not this is true for our purposes). And then you get more guys like the original circus terrorists playing themselves off as vigilantes as an excuse to kill people.

So now you have a clown gang war and more clown terrorists than you started with. And with the other problems Earth and the Colonies have it isn't *really* a big enough deal for anyone outside of the business to really care, so you get a sort of uneasy status quo with occasional bursts of clown violence.

The motel in question has a ghost problem because it's a former base of operations of a clown gang, where they would frequently dispose of their clown victims.

Chibodee is not at all aware of this. Or else he never would have agreed to this. He would have had some sort if Military backup. Gunsinto and The Greenlords have kept this under wraps to avoid broadcasting their farm territory as terrorist territory.

The clowns were affected by DG cells pre-murder and with Kyoji nearby they seem to be activating.

Yikes.

Kyoji can affect DG cells in a lof of situations... but can he affect them to his advantage here???

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

Stay Tuned to Find Out!

#fanfiction #G Gundam #Domon Kasshu #Chibodee #Kyoji Kasshu #The "powers altered by the touch of death'' thing has me very tempted to shill for another tiny fandom I'm in lol #because it also features in the game I cited as inspiration earlier.#I think the reason TT keeps coming to mind is because both (the game and this story) have an approach to the writing that feels very Lively #Part of that I suspect is that both operate out of a setting that has absurd elements that feel unique and memorable #And instead of shying away from those elements they're taken seriously in-universe and followed to a conclusion that feels logical #So instead of the unrealistic aspects feeling cheap or distracting they feel grounded and believable; despite being unrealistic.#I see precious little art that handles the ''silly'' elements of its premise with that kind of gravity.#I suppose it isn't the most popular combination but for me that particular balance is almost the platonic ideal of what fiction should be.#Or at the very least it's an under-exploited way of achieving the goals of being memorable and having palpable stakes.#G Gundam proper attracted me because it hits a lot of those notes;#adding in further character focus; some of the mundanity of organized public service; and the earnest speculation #of ''how would these elements resolve if we explored them with a focus on (some) real science*?'' gets all of the rest.#*and statistics and population models and epidemiology and whatever else happens to be relevant.#If it sounds like I'm waxing poetic or blowing smoke or anything I promise I'm not (I'm asthmatic; I'm allergic to smoke!)#I just have *very* specific tastes in fiction that not a lot of writers choose to explore; I'm thrilled to be part of this discussion!

105 notes · View notes

the-bau-quinjet · 4 years ago

Text

Nervous II

Hello! Just a quick fluffy sequel to Nervous!

Summary: Spencer and Reader at Rossi’s dinner party after the events in Nervous!

warnings: mentions of sex and dom! Spencer

Word Count: 1544

“What if they hate me?” You and Spencer just arrived to Rossi’s mansion. You refuse to believe this can be categorized as a house.

“They’ve already met you.” Spencer is trying to calm your nerves, but it’s just not working.

“Yeah, and they arrested me. That’s not exactly a great first impression.” He simply stares back at you with an incredulous look on his face.

“Trust me, they’ll love you. Just like I do.” With a quick peck on your cheek, Spencer leaves the car. He opens Lily’s door before coming around to get yours. He has to physically pull you out of the car. You would’ve faked being sick to get out of coming, but Lily really wanted to play with Henry again.

You walk hand in hand with Spencer up to the door, letting Lily ring the doorbell. The door swings open to reveal none other than the two men who arrested you. To say it’s an awkward interaction is a bit of an understatement. You are frozen to the doorstep even after Lily runs between the two men. Spencer pulls you inside as Rossi closes the door.

“We just wanted to apologize… for arresting you.” Derek breaks the silence first.

“Oh please, don’t worry about it. I gave you plenty of reasons to be suspicious. I was just so nervous because I thought at first maybe Spencer was hurt, but that didn’t make sense because he wasn’t working! And then I was on edge because you guys are his family and I didn’t want to make a bad first impression, but we all know how that turned out and then-“ “Baby, relax.” Spencer’s voice whispered into your ear instantly soothes you. It’s honestly crazy how much the slight brush of his mouth against your skin can simultaneously sooth you and turn you on.

“I’m just sorry I wasted your time. And made you think someone was after everyone you love. That was a pretty bad move.” You try to laugh it off, but they can clearly see you’re nervous. If the rambling didn’t give you away, the way your hands are slightly shaking definitely would’ve.

“Don’t even worry about it. Just come in, relax, eat some great food, and have some expensive wine.” Rossi leads the three of you farther into the house where the rest of the group is talking.

“Y/N! Come join us gals.” Penelope is pulling you into the living room where JJ and Emily are seated on the couch.

“You have to tell us everything about you and Spence.” All three women lean just a little bit closer to you. You can feel the blush rising to your cheeks. Now would be a great time for that wine.

“Like what?” You are trying so hard not to seem nervous, but you know they can all see it in the way you tap your fingers or bite your lip. Before they can start actually asking you questions, Spencer walks up behind you with a glass of white wine. How does he always know exactly what you need?

You smile graciously, thanking him with the turn of your lips and the love in your eyes. Just as he’s about to sit down, Penelope pushes him out of the room murmuring about “girl time.”

When she returns, the questions start immediately. “Tell us everything. How did you meet? When was your first date? Did you have to ask him out? When did he meet Lily? She’s just so cute!”

You do your best to answer every question thrown your way. Starting at that chance meeting in the hospital, the girls ooh and ahh constantly during the story. They laugh at how smooth concussed Spencer was, and smile when you tell them how cute he was with Lily in the park before he even knew she was yours.

Three glasses of wine later, you are convinced they can’t have any questions left. You’ve gone through every date the two of you have been on, ranging from fancy dinners to casual nights in. Dates with and without Lily. You go into strange detail about how frequently you text each other when he’s away on cases, usually reserving it for at night when you’re both home. You tell them when you knew you were in love with him. You tell them that you can’t picture your future without him in it. You tell them everything.

Then things take a turn.

“There’s one topic we haven’t covered yet…” Emily has a glint in her eyes that instantly has you questioning her motives. JJ seems to catch on, immediately shaking her head.

“Nope, there are some things I just do not need to hear.” In your slightly drunk state, it takes you another minute to catch on.

“Oh god.”

“Yep. Spill it sister!” Penelope looks like a child on Christmas morning. JJ looks like she’s torn between running away or watching the train wreck that is about to unfold. Emily looks absolutely smug.

“I’ll even get the ball rolling. I saw how the two of you blushed when Spencer mentioned your April dates. The two of you watched Tangled until Lily fell asleep and then…” Emily wiggled her eyebrows in your direction, encouraging you to share more information.

You can’t help but hide your face behind your wine glass, taking a sip to stall. You’ve never really talked about your sex life before. You aren’t a prude, but it’s just always been slightly embarrassing for you to bring up.

“We had sex.” The words come out whispered and rushed.

“And?” Penelope is the one wiggling her eyebrows now. The two of them are only encouraging the other to push you that much further. “Was it gentle? Spencer just seems like the gentlest lover.”

You can’t hold back the snort that escapes your throat. So much so that you nearly choke on your wine. Sure, Spencer can make love to you slow and romantic when he wants to, but more often than not it’s dirty and rough. You know they can tell exactly what your reaction meant.

“No way! No freaking way! You’re telling me that Dr. Spencer Reid-” the man of the hour walks in, effectively cutting off the conversation. JJ groans, murmuring about how this was too much information about her best friend. Penelope wears the expression of a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar. Emily is yet again, sitting there with a smug smirk on her lips.

“Dr. Spencer Reid what?” Spencer walks closer to the girls on the couch. His question piqued the interest of Derek, Rossi, and Hotch as well, all of them following him closer to the conversation at hand.

“Nothing! Absolutely nothing.” You try your best to cover it up, not wanting to embarrass Spencer in front of his friends. You didn’t even really say anything. They just figured it out.

“Well, know I have to know.” Morgan’s smirk is nearly identical to Emily’s. He’s clearly picked up on the slight tension, and he’s never been one to miss an opportunity to tease Spencer. He turns to Garcia “Baby girl, what’s going on?” You know Penelope is too far gone to hold back know, despite the pleading look in your eyes.

“Spencer… is… he’s…” Her words keep getting cut off by her own thoughts. You’ve never been so grateful for wine. She just keeps pointing between the two of you, unable to form the words to explain what she just found out.

“He is deeply and madly in love with me. That’s all.” It’s clear that nobody believes that is what you were really talking about. Especially Spencer, he just shoots you a look that says he’ll definitely be asking about this later.

“That I am.” He kisses you in response, giving you butterflies. You know Penelope will come to terms with it in a few minutes, so you usher Spencer out of the room to tell him what happened.

You’ve barely made it to the kitchen when you hear Garcia practically scream “Spencer is a freak in the sheets! I don’t believe it!” Nobody else is matching her volume, but you just know their exchanging looks, if not whispers, about that fact.

“I didn’t say anything I swear! I just snorted when Garcia said she thought you were a gentle lover…” You both snicker at that. Spencer’s face is sporting a very clear blush, but at least you got him out of the room before Garcia screamed it for everyone to hear.

“Baby, it’s okay. I figured they’d get it out of you eventually. The team doesn’t really do well with boundaries.” He’s laughing it off, so you do your best to do the same following him back into the living room.

“My man!” Derek can’t get much more teasing in before Rossi is announcing dinner, shooting you and Spencer a wink as everyone rushes to the dining room.

Just before you pass through the doorway, Spencer whispers in your ear. “Don’t think you won’t be punished for this later.”

“Yes, sir.” You are already feeling the familiar heat that comes from Spencer’s soft whispers and dirty remarks. And if Spencer is a little rougher than normal that night, while you’re not going to complain.

tag list:

@mac99martin

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #Criminal Minds #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds x reader #spencer #spencer reid one shot #dom!spencer

836 notes · View notes

the-witty-pen-name · 4 years ago

Text

Deadbeat Pt. 6

Lee Bodecker x F!Reader

18+ ONLY

Warnings: age gap (reader is 21), fluff, angst, smut, dirty talk, semi-public sex, cursing, abandonment, toxic parent, violence, toxic siblings, infatuation, cheating/divorce, insecurity, mild housewife kink, mentions of prostitution, mentions of alcohol, corrupt official, fake relationship, jealousy

Word Count: 3.5k

Summary: You work at the bar at the edge of town, the Sheriff is going through a divorce and needs to rent a room.

A/N: I’m terrible at writing summaries and I’m so sorry about that! I don’t think I would consider this a dark!fic, but it does cover a lot of themes, and topics that are darker than I usually write about- but I think that comes with the territory of writing about Lee Bodecker. I’ll make sure to update the warnings for each chapter and do not read if you are underage. I also ignored canon for this one.

Thank you all so much for reading and sharing my work. Everyone whose reached out and told me how much they love the story really makes my day, oh my gosh!! I love you all so much, I’m so thankful.

This is unedited, and I missed anything I should include as a warning let me know! I hope you all enjoy!

Part One // Part Two // Part Three // Part Four // Part Five

Tags and Requests are OPEN

send me an ask or message to be added to the taglist! I think I got everybody who has asked to be added, but to make sure it doesn’t get lost, sending me a message or an ask will make it easier to keep track! Thank you!!! The support has been overwhelming for my first fic I’m so happy you all are enjoying it!

He turns onto your street and as you get closer to your house, there’s a car out front you don’t recognize.

“You expecting somebody?” Arvin asks.

“Nope,” you say seeing a figure sitting on the front porch swing- unable to make out who it is.

Pulling up to the house the figure is a man, but you still can’t distinguish any features as Arvin continues to drive down the dirt road. You’re incredibly nervous and your mind is racing wondering who it would be. You were scared.

“Hey, it’s alright,” Arvin says, noticing as you fidget in your seat. He takes your hand to comfort you, now driving with one hand on the wheel. He parks his truck at the side of the house. It’s Henry Curtis- that damned reporter. Shit, you think to yourself, he doesn’t know that you lied to him at the bar.

“Who is that?” Arvin asks, staring daggers at the man as he flips a page in the newspaper he was reading while he waits on the front porch. You hide your face behind Arvin, leaning back so Mr. Curtis can’t see who is in the passenger seat.

“He’s this reporter that’s been trying to write a story about my mom,” you explain quickly, “He came into the bar the night before trying to talk to me but I lied and said I wasn’t me. He must have gotten the address somehow- he knows the Sheriff lives here… Maybe he’s trying to dig up something.”

“Is there something-?”

“No! Of course not,” you lie, and it makes you feel terrible. It makes you feel so guilty lying to Arvin but you weren’t ready to tell him anything. “Like everyone else in this town, he’s probably heard all the rumors and things people are saying about me and he’s gonna try to use that.”

“What should we do? It’s not like he’s seeing you with Sheriff Bodecker… you’re with me.”

“Wait- Arvin, that’s it,” you say in a hushed voiced. You peer over his shoulder to see if the reporter was getting suspicious.

“What’s it?” he asks with an eyebrow raised.

“Pretend to be my boyfriend?” You ask hurriedly. “If he thinks I’m single he’s gonna keep hounding me. But if I’m in a relationship, he’s got no reason to keep pursuing the dead-end story and maybe he’ll leave me alone.”

Arvin looks at you, and sighs heavily as he thinks about it. He knows it’s pointless because he knows he’s never going to be able to say no to you. Besides, it’s just a one-time rouse, just so this guy doesn’t bother you again. Arvin feels obligated to say yes, hoping this somehow could make his actions in the past up to you.

“Okay,” he says, forcing a small smile. “I’ll follow your lead.”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” you exclaim, giving him a brief hug.

He gets out of the car first, tipping his baseball cap to the man on the porch, before coming around and helping you out of the truck. He keeps his arm around your waist, and holds you close to his side as he walked. Christ, he’s missed this.

“Afternoon,” Curtis greets, putting down his newspaper, and leaving it on the swing. “Henry Curtis. I’m a reporter for the Columbus Dispatch.” He comes down the front steps, as Arvin grabs your groceries from the back of the truck. He walks over to the car and extends his hand to both of you, matching his introduction with a firm handshake. He tilts his head, looking at you, immediately recognizing you from the bar. You’re quick on your feet, and good at putting on an act. You spoke quickly before he got the chance to accuse anything.

“I remember you Mr. Curtis,” you say with a smile. You come off as a little shy. “I wasn’t very truthful to you when we first met and I’m sorry about that,” you say. “But I was scared when you came in asking for me,” you explain, “Strange man comes in, asking for me by name without introducing himself first. Would scare any gal, I hope you understand.”

Arvin holds back a laugh at how thick you are laying it on. You were putting on a Southern belle persona, and it wasn’t like you at all. He admired how quick you were on your feet. It amazed him actually how smoothly you were able to pull it off. “I’m (Y/N) (Y/L/N),” you say, introducing yourself properly. “This is my boyfriend Arvin Russell.” His heart tugs a little, but he ignores it the best he can.

“I suppose I understand,” Curtis says, looking the two of you over. “I think that I came on a little too strong when I first introduced myself. I apologize. It’s nice to meet you both.”

“Good to know ya, Mr. Curtis,” Arvin nods, bringing your groceries up to your front porch as Mr. Curtis asks you more questions.

“I hate to intrude,” Curtis begins and you hold back a scoff, “But I had been told by some people you too had called it quits before the Sheriff moved in- a Ms. Perry, I think. When I was just asking around for a way to get in touch, her and another woman told me more than I was asking.”

“Oh of course, Mr. Curtis,” you chuckle. “They would have been right, but we’ve gotten back together since then. You’re in on the news before Ms. Perry it sounds like.”

“Ah, we’ll I’m happy to hear you both are happy,” he clears his throat. He wasn’t anticipating this and this new information has thrown off his hunch about the situation.

“That’s mighty kind of you,” you smile, resting your arm on Arvin’s shoulder when he returns to your side.

“How long has it been?” he asks curiously. You look up at Arvin, biting your lip playing dumb trying to remember.

“About two weeks, I think,” you finalize, “Maybe three. I mean we’d been together since we both got out of high school so it’s more like we’ve done been together for four years.”

“And you both don’t mind the living situation, not to pry in something that isn’t my business, but an unmarried woman renting out a room to a man is very peculiar,” he insinuates, and Arvin wraps his arm around your waist.

“I have no reason to not trust her,” Arvin says, coming to your defense, and you genuinely smile, even though you know it’s not true. It hurts, but you know it’s just for now. Keeping your relationship with Lee a secret was your idea after all, and you thought keeping it a secret would be easier. But now you’re here lying to one of the only people in town you care about.

“I’d be more worried about the Sheriff,” Curtis counters with a laugh. “Well, I came here to talk to Ms. (Y/L/N) about her mother.”

“I didn’t lie to you when I said I didn’t know anything,” you interject. “Honest, I don’t. I wish I knew more. I’m worried sick thinking about my brother and if he’s okay- but I haven’t heard about either of them. They haven’t reached out since they moved out.”

“I believe you,” he said sympathetically, “Sheriff Bodecker let me read the statement you gave at the station. And I’m sorry you are going through this.”

“I don’t know how’d I’d make it through without Arvin,” you say, looking up at him. He leans down and kisses your temple quickly.

“I should be going, I suppose,” he says, “I’ll be in town for a little while longer, so I hope to see you too around. Please, call me if you hear something.” The man hands you both a business card, and then goes to his car, and pulling away, not even bothering to grab the newspaper he left on the front porch.

“What a sleaze,” you shudder, moving away from Arvin’s embrace.

“He seemed nice enough,” Arvin shrugs, “But I guess that’s an act he puts on.”

“He’s trouble, Arvin,” you insist. He nods, trusting you. You both stand awkwardly for a few moments. You were wishing you could tell him and come clean. It felt horrible keeping this secret from him, he didn’t deserve to be a pawn covering up this scheme of yours without knowing. You would tell him, you decided you would, but you needed to wait for the right time.

“I really appreciate you helping me,” you say, cutting across the silence.

“Of course,” he says, putting his hands in his pockets. “I guess I should get going. I need to pick up Lenora at the cemetery.”

“Okay,” you nod, “See you later?”

“I’m always here,” he chuckles. You turn around and bring your bags inside as Arvin drives away. The whole interaction with Curtis made you incredibly uncomfortable, and you just wanted nothing more than to just see Lee.

You put the groceries away quickly, and then needed to change out these clothes. You headed up to your bedroom, and changed into a more comfortable outfit. You felt a little gross, like there was a layer of something on your skin, even though you were fine. It was like the residue of the lie you told Arvin was still crawling on your skin. You kept reminding yourself that it was only temporary.

“It’s okay to be selfish sometimes, sweetheart,” Lee said, pulling you in close later that night as you were telling him about how you felt towards lying to Arvin. He appreciated how honest you were, and he often wished he was more like you.

However, he also couldn’t help the jealousy that was bubbling up inside him. Thinking about Arvin touching you, even if you had been his first- the visual made his jaw lock. It wasn’t that it was just Arvin- any man touching you would send him into a jealous frenzy. He wasn’t worried about you. He really truly trusted you, but he didn’t for a second trust the Russell boy when it came to you.

You rested your head on his shoulder and rested your palm on his chest as he pulled the blanket up for the two of you. He laid on his back, you cuddled up close to his side. He had one arm wrapped securely around you and the other rested bent behind his head.

“I just hate keeping secrets,” you mumble and it makes him sigh. He now combatted with his own guilt. He was torn between telling you about his involvements around town, like Leroy Brown, or telling you about how he’s been covering for his sister. He wants out, and he just wants to protect you. His main concern about keeping that part of his life under wraps isn’t even about reelection anymore, it’s about keeping you safe. Brown couldn’t know about you; it would put you in danger. He just needed time to get out of the whole mess and then he’d confess everything to you, even if the fear of losing you stayed at the forefront of his mind.

“It’s not forever, sweetheart,” he whispers, rubbing circles on your back comfortingly. “We won’t have to keep ourselves locked away in this house forever,” he chuckles, “even though I love it.” His words make you blush and you swat his chest playfully. “What? I do,” he grins, “I love just being home with you. It’s like the rest of the world don’t even exist when it’s just you and me.”

“When that reporter leaves, everything will get better,” you affirm. “I thought keeping us a secret would be easier,” you admit, drawing aimless shapes over his white t-shirt.

“I can’t wait to show you off,” he mumbles, nuzzling closer to you. “Just show the whole world you’re my girl.”

“You did get pretty lucky,” you chuckle, closing your eyes.

“I know I did,” he hums in agreement, pulling you into his chest.

You got the call the next day letting you know you got the job. You quit your bartending job immediately, you’re so excited that you forget all about the stress you were battling with the previous night. You felt like you were walking on air. Things were looking up for the most part. You had secured a stable job, you were going to start making more money, you had Lee- you felt good. It was definitely a calm before the storm.

You’re worries for now floated to the back of your mind and you allowed yourself to just be happy for yourself. You got something, and it was all your own. You worked hard and you did this. You’d start this next phase of your life Monday morning and you couldn’t wait. You wanted to just speed through the weekend. Well, speed through the rest of Thursday, Friday, Saturday- enjoy your date with Lee, and then speed through Sunday.

You had butterflies. You felt silly that the idea of going on a date with Lee made you feel this way but you were really excited. It made you feel like this relationship was normal, and much more doable than you were thinking it would be. The age gap, living together, so many things made you worry constantly about other people and their opinions. Being stuck in that small town really would affect your confidence and self-esteem. You’re strong, and most of the time things that petty don’t affect you, but the consistency of it all is draining.

Now you both are sitting in the front of Lee’s car, not the cruiser- his ’55 Dodge he hardly drove. He kept his car, but because he was always working, it mostly sat in your garage. He’d offer you the keys, leaving them hanging up in the kitchen for you to take whenever you wanted, but something about the town seeing you driving his car was daunting. You knew people would talk regardless of what you did, but you didn’t like to add fuel to the flame when you could avoid it.

Sitting in the bench seat, with your eyes glued to the movie that played on the screen, you kept stealing glances at Lee. He looked nice out of uniform- much more relaxed and like he wasn’t hiding behind some front he felt he needed to live up to the badge. His leather jacket was secured around your shoulders, and you decide to slid over to him. Your actions snap him out of his thoughts and he smirks, pulling his arm around you and pulling you in close to his side.

It was a dark night, you couldn’t see in to the cars surrounding you, even though you were parked towards the back of the lot of cars anyways. The window was rolled down just enough to have the speaker clipped in place, and the breeze was a little chilly. He pressed his lips to the top of your head, giving you a quick kiss while you got comfortable and then you both turned back to the movie.

Lee couldn’t focus on the movie in front of him if he wanted to. It was just like how he felt like that night awhile back when you’d fallen asleep on the couch together. This time though, he shouldn’t be nervous. You were there and his girl. But now he felt nervous like he was a teenager again or something- and you’re there wrapped up in his arms, and the smell of your shampoo is amazing, and he’s just so wrapped up in thoughts of you, he couldn’t even tell you the name of the movie playing, or who was in it, or what it was even about. Then, you rested your hand on his leg and he thought he was going to combust.

“Lee,” you whisper in his ear and he feels a shiver run down his whole spine, “Are you paying attention?”

“Y-yeah,” he says, sitting up a little straighter and you scoff.

“What’s the movie called?” you ask with a smirk, rubbing his leg gently. He fumbles over his words trying to stall.

“I don’t know,” he sighs, running a hand through his hair nervously.

“Me neither,” you giggle, and he let’s out a long breath of relief. You lean up to whisper in his ear, your hand rubbing over the bulge in his pants. “I can’t think about anything but moving to the backseat,” you whisper. He groans as a response and then pulls you into a kiss, tangling his hand in your hair. You teasingly bit his lip, pulling away from the kiss. He pouts at the separation as you quickly kick off your shoes and then climb over the bench seat to the back, accidentally (or maybe on purpose) giving him a view of your panties that you wore under your skirt.

“You’re killing me, doll,” he moans, quickly following your lead, smacking your ass playfully. You yelp in response and laugh as he climbs over the bench seat and crawls on top of you.

He scoops you up in his arms so he can seat stretched out on the backseat and you maneuver so you’re straddling his waist, your miniskirt riding up around your waist. His tongue tangles with yours and his hands grab at the flesh of your upper thighs. Your hands move down his chest to his torso to his belt, fumbling to undo the buckle and then his fly.

“Fuck,” he moans, when he pulls away from the kiss and his hands move to rub your back under your top. You move to pulls his jacket off of you and he holds your wrists gently to stop you. “Keep it on, sugar,” he murmurs, and then dips down to kiss and bit at your neck. You moan as he kisses from your neck downward as he partially unbuttons your shirt, opening it just enough to reveal your bra.

As your hands run through his hair, he pulls back from your skin to kiss your lips frantically again. His hand travels down and pushes his pants and boxers down enough to free his cock, and he swiftly moves your panties to the side. “Please, Lee,” you whine impatiently, and he smirks, feeling your arousal.

“You’re so wet, baby girl,” he chuckles, teasing your entrance and you moan. He loves ever reaction you give him.

“You want me to ride you Sheriff?” you ask lowly batting your lashes. He rests his head back and he has a firm grip on your hips.

“Please, honey,” he says, almost in a whimper. It felt good, it felt really good seeing him under you like this. You smile, leaning down and kissing his neck as you slide yourself onto his length. You take a sharp intake of breath, adjusting as it stretches you and Lee moans. You’re thankful the windows are fogged, and the movie is still playing, but there was something thrilling about this nonetheless. No one would see you if they looked over anyways, and no one would be paying attention to your car.

“You’re so big,” you praise as you begin to move yourself up and down. Lee peppers kisses on exposed part of your breast and moves his hands down to squeeze your ass as you ride him.

“Fuck you’re so perfect, sweetheart, you feel so good,” he moans, his hands helping to move you up and down on him.

His praises just encourage you to quicken your pace and he still helps guide you. Not breaking your rhythm together, he moves one hand to pull out his wallet from his pocket while the other moves to rest on the small of your back as you continue to bounce on him.

“One second, sweetheart,” he mumbles against your lips. “Lay down on the seat for me.”

You nod and follow his instructions. You watch as he pulls a condom from his wallet, quickly unwrapping it and slipping it on. Once he secures it, he bends down connecting his lips with yours again.

“You’re stunning,” he praises, taking off your panties. He takes a minute to just take in how you look- your hair sprawled out as you rest your back on the seat, your chest rising and falling breathing heavy with anticipation, your neck covered in marks he’s left behind and your skirt pushed up around your waist, and you’re wearing his jacket. “Goddamn perfect,” he declares, kissing you one more time before guiding himself into you.

His thrusts are a little sloppy, this new position makes the limited space much more obvious, but it doesn’t matter. You both are close and pressed up against each other, and both of you know you’re close. He can feel as you tighten around him and you can feel every time, he’s hitting the spots inside you perfectly.

“Lee, I’m so close,” you moan, your arms wrapping around his neck, and he moves faster, this time the car rocks a little, making you laugh.

“Fuck, you’re so tight, sugar,” he grunts, “so perfect.”

You throw your head back as you feel your release, and at the sensation he shortly follows.

“Fuck, Lee,” you moan, feeling your orgasm rip through you.

“Fuck, I love you, sugar,” he groans, as he rides out his orgasm. He pulls out, resting his forehead on yours, panting heavily.

“You what?” You ask breathless, your eyes widening at the confession.

PART SEVEN

Taglist:

@scar-is-bi @jiminlife2k18 @asylummaniac01 @rosalynshields @charmed-asylum @jamesbuchananbuckybarnes1917 @alexandrathegreat3 @hersilencedscreams @malar-region @purplerain85 @vesper852 @smilewolfdolan @softshell-taco @champagnebucky

#lee bodecker #lee bodecker imagine #lee bodecker x you #lee bodecker x reader #lee bodecker fic #lee #lee bodecker smut #smut #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan characters #x reader #the devil all the time #tom holland x reader #tom holland #arvin russel x reader #sebastian stan one shot #lee bodecker x reader smut

346 notes · View notes

americasmarauders · 4 years ago

Text

in your eyes - Bucky Barnes

author’s note: so remember when I said I wouldn’t write Bucky anymore, only that one time? yeah, so I said, you know, like a liar. I saw the first episode of falcon and the winter soldier and that was all it took for me to fall into the ‘bucky barnes simp’ hole all over again. I made an entire one shot based on a single piece of a dialogue from the first episode. the story starts right before the first episode and ends right after the last. I spend an entire month and a half working on this please give it some love.(pls reblog i beg of you) Huge thanks to @batarella and @glorified-red for beta-ing this. ily <3 hwo knows, if people love it enough I might give a part 2.

summary: her quiet job in the library got louder when Bucky walked into her life. (Bucky Barnes x telepath!librarian!reader)

WARNINGS: i do write a bit about addiction in this, if it makes you uncomfortable, please do not interact. it’s not heavy, or graphic, but the reader does experience abstinence. be warned. no spoilers for tfatws, but i do reccomend you watching it.

words: 11,416

mastelist

It was all so loud usually. When she first discovered her ability, it was like there were suddenly a thousand voices yelling inside her head all at once. She remembered falling to her knees, clutching her ears and crying out as the voices shouted different things at her.

Then the Professor came, promised her to help control her own mind. She didn’t want to trust the guy, even if he said he had the same power as her--even if he said everything would be alright. But the headaches were getting worse, the voices were getting louder and louder. She took him up on it and left her home to live in his boarding school.

She met interesting people and--at the end of her stay--she achieved what she was there for. It took 4 years of her life, constant nightmares from reading too much of her colleagues' minds, and several isolated afternoons - more than she wanted to admit. Nevertheless, she could finally go to a concert or have a normal college class without crying from pain.

She lived a normal life after her time at the Institute. She mostly ignored how her teenage years were far from the ordinary, or how sometimes she could hear a random thought from the person sitting next to her if the thought was loud enough. There were days when everything got too much, days where she lost control. She would stay in her house with noise cancelling headphones on (even if it didn’t work like that, it somehow helped) just going on throughout her day as quietly as possible. Tom knew she would get sick, even if working at the library rarely made her go into her lockdown modes.

The library calmed her in a way. The thoughts were rarely disordered and loud, more focused and quiet. It fascinated her that even in their thoughts, people respected the quiet environment the library required. But sometimes, someone would appear with a troubled mind, something books couldn’t even soothe.

There was a regular now, he was one of those people whose thoughts were always all over the place; she couldn’t pick them apart, words would fly through her head - words she often associated with the book he was reading. She wouldn’t know, it was Nancy that talked to him most times.

He always sat at the same old, worn out armchair, talking with the older people in the library as if they were the only people he was comfortable with. Sometimes, she would be restocking the books and see him looking at old newspapers. She never got the courage to talk to him. She figured her curiosity wasn’t enough to muster up the bravery needed to utter a word to him.

Tom was on leave that day. He was stalling his doctor’s appointment, telling her his back pain wasn’t that serious, but she knew better. Every so often she would hear a whisper of pain in her head and she knew her boss wasn’t alright. It had taken her months, but she finally convinced Tom to go and get his back looked at.

So she was working the counter that day: checking books off, admitting them, and then separating them so she could reshelve the books the next day. It was pretty boring work, repetitive, and she wondered how Tom kept busy all day when she finished all of her chores in a couple of hours.

“Excuse me,” she heard, standing up as a reflex. Her eyes trailed up to the person standing in front of the main desk. It was the Loud Man (that was what she had taken to calling him). “I want to check this off.”

“Yeah,” she said, breathless. She was hearing too much from him, too many random words. It made her feel dizzy. “Yeah, I’ll do that.”

She took the book from his hands, her fingers brushing slightly at his leather gloves, her thoughts suddenly got even more flooded at the slight touch. She could feel a rising nervousness in him, so much it blended with her own nerves. She quickly retrieved her hand, hoping she hadn’t seemed impolite.

She sat back at her chair, looking at the book. “The Hobbit, huh?”

“I’m re-reading it,” he said, his eyes sincere, “I read it when it first came out.”

She looked at him funnily. “You read it in 1937?”

His expression froze, the slight smile morphing into a frown, his loud thoughts got louder with a single word: ‘lie’. “That’s a funny joke.”

She smiled at him, not taking his comment too seriously. “I’m a funny gal.”

He laughed, but his smile didn’t reach his eyes. It was like he was only checking off a box of social convention. It quickly faded to an impatient expression, and she could tell he wanted to get out of the situation as quickly as possible.

“I haven’t seen you here before,” he mentioned.

“Oh,” she muttered, “I’m usually reshelving things, Tom operates the front desk but he went to the doctor. I’m the only other person who works here, so,” she trailed off, “I’m Y/N.”

“Bucky,” he responded, his face slightly tensed. His eyes hovered over everything in the library, as if he was trying to find something wrong in it.

“Nice to meet you, Bucky," she handed the book back to him. "It's due next week. Don't be late with it.”

“I'll return it tomorrow,” the words slipped from his mouth.

“Fast reader?” she asked.

“Got nothing else to do,” he shrugged, the word ‘lie’ once again swimming in her head in the mess of thoughts she received from him.

He gave her one last smile and disappeared into the library. His thoughts got distant, but they lingered in her head. Flashes of pain, bright white lights, and screams littered her mind. She shook her head trying to get rid of them. It rarely worked, not with thoughts so persistent.

Her head started to pound as the thoughts got more intense somehow. That never happened before, usually she could only hear people that stood near her and she was sure Bucky walked all the way to the back - he wasn’t close to her in any way.

Her hand shook as she fished out her headphones. She put them on and connected them with her phone. Playing her music was a hopeful distraction, detering her brain enough to quiet down everything. She closed her eyes and breathed in and out slowly, just like the Professor had taught her. He used to say a quiet and strong mind was the key to ward off stray thoughts.

It helped clear the thoughts, the mess of words only leaving whispers of broken thoughts in the way. She grabbed those and put them away, shoving them inside a mental box of lost thoughts. She did that with all the others, it helped keep her mind organized.

She didn't know how much time had passed when she opened her eyes. She always took too much time clearing her mind, she would forget the outside world. Peter used to poke fun at her for that, drawing penises on her face. When she came to her senses she would always run after him, ready to tackle him to the ground. It was always useless: you can't outrun Peter.

She noticed Bucky leaning on the frame of the front door. It was getting darker outside, an orange hue illuminating his eyes perfectly. Her breath hitched for a second before recomposing herself.

“Good nap?” he asked, the smallest smirk on his lips.

“I wasn’t napping,” she smiled, shaking her head. She checked the clock and saw it was way past closing time. It didn’t go unnoticed by her that he had gone out of his way to stay with her when he should have gone home. “Why’d you stay?”

“Everyone left,” he said, “and I thought it wasn’t safe to leave you in a trance alone in an empty library.”

“I wasn’t in a trance,” she took her headphones off, resting them around her neck, “I was… clearing my head.”

He looked at her funnily, “Busy day?”

“It’s been weirder than usual,” she responded, smiling. She sat back down and logged off the system.

“How weird is working in a library?”

She scoffed, lighty. “You have no idea,” she smiled mischievously.

She picked up her things, keys in her hand. She left the front desk, going to Bucky’s side. “Thanks for staying,” she said, “You really didn’t have to.”

“It’s no problem,” his hand brushed the back of his neck with a timid smile, very unlike his general physique and stance, “I had nowhere else to go.”

She could feel his thoughts bubbling underneath her skin, wanting to come out and flood her brain with confusing images and words. Whispers of faint words echoed through her mind, soft enough that she couldn’t distinguish what they were.

“I find that hard to believe,” she said, words slipping out of her mouth faster than she could stop it. Old habits she supposed. She could always keep thoughts of other people to herself, it didn’t seem fair to them she could hear their thoughts, the least she could do was keep them to herself. But when it came to her own, they just came out of her mouth before her conscience could stop her. “I mean,” she started, “a guy like yourself - good looking and all - must get a lot of people just, um, throwing themselves at you.”

He breathed out, an awkward expression on his face. She could hear one word clearly: ‘lie’. “I don’t date a lot,” he stated, “Not really my thing.”

She changed her approach to the conversation, sensing the uncomfortable energy he oozed. “Oh,” she muttered, “It’s okay, I mean, I don’t date a lot either. I barely leave my flat actually,” she brushed a single piece of hair out of her face, “I hate crowded spaces, and I have just the weirdest habits. You know, not a lot of people are into women who work at a library and barely make minimum wage,” she mumbled, her hands in her pockets restraining her hands for gesturing too much just like she always did, “I have a lot of issues too, at least that’s what the Professor used to say to my therapist before each session, which is fair and--oh God, I’m sorry, I just rambled.”

He chuckled (an actual chuckle), a full light-hearted laugh, one that rumbled throughout his chest. “It’s fine,” he said, “I like listening to you talk.”

She heard the words ‘like’ and ‘quiet’ shoot through her mind. She smiled at him shyly, looking down at the ground. “I don’t know how to respond to that,” she laughed awkwardly, “Thank you again, for waiting and being, I don’t know, just nice, I guess.”

He smiled, a slightly bigger smile then he had given her the entire time they’d interacted. “Yeah, yeah,” he shook his head, “No problem.”

Both of them walked out the door. She turned and locked it, then pushed a button that activated the security systems of the building. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then,” she said whilst shrugging.

“Yeah, yeah,” he went down a few steps of the main staircase. “I’ll see, uh, see you tomorrow.”

She saw him go down the steps, listening to the faint echoes of his thoughts in her head. She felt the tips of her mouth curl up, watching him go as the sun set on the horizon. She hadn’t felt that before, that sense of mystery, of wonder and curiosity. His mind was in shambles, broken pieces of it laying in every corner of his brain, and she heard all of it. It compelled her, even if it felt completely wrong to be so enthralled by someone’s mind.

She felt inadequate for liking his mind when he didn’t even know she could listen to it. It wasn’t the first time she felt that way. She remembered a boy from the shop near the Institute, she loved hearing his thoughts. She rarely left the Institute, but when she did she would always sneak to the store to buy a popsicle as an excuse to admire him. Sometimes he would smile at her and her brain would malfunction for just a second, his thoughts flooding her and overwhelming her every time that happened.

She anticipated it was only a matter of time before that happened with Bucky again. She didn’t exactly know if that was a good thing, if she should indulge in the latent curiosity and table herself further with his mind - with him.

The sun set in the horizon, the orange glow fading to the blue of the night sky. Walking down the streets, she could still hear remnants of his thoughts inside her head, his imprint already set on her. She wondered how long it would take for it to fade, if it would fade and if she wanted it to. #

He gave her one last look before walking away from her. She could feel him uncomfortable, it lingered in her head longer than it should. He lingered in her more than he should. Her eyes followed him on his way out of the library. His mind was confused and tired, it left a trail of breadcrumbs calling for her to solve the mystery that was.

Tom’s doctor ordered maximum rest. Apparently, the problem in his back was more serious than both of them anticipated. The doctor ordered as much rest as Tom could have, meaning more breaks and leaving early. That also meant she had to do double the work - she wouldn’t mind at all had she not left a pile of returned books to shelve.

She put her headphones and drove the cart full of books through the library all afternoon. Usually not a lot of people came in on a Monday afternoon to check out books, most were local teens that were there to study or make out. She always pretended not to know which ones were there to actually study or not; the thoughts always flew out to her when they were there to snog, most times it was hard to contain the shit-eating grin that would want to rise.

She felt someone touching her shoulder. She jumped slightly, startled at the touch. Turning around, she saw Bucky, his thoughts overwhelming her. She rested the headphones around her neck, pulling out her phone to pause the music. “Hey, Bucky,” she breathed out, trying to contain the images and words in her head, “What are you, um, how you doing?”

“I’m good,” he smiled at her, looking down at the ground, “Um, Tom’s not at the front desk and I gotta return the book.”

“Oh yeah,” she took the book from his hand. It was still warm from his touch, “I thought you wouldn’t come today, to be honest.”

“I said I was,” he looked at her intensely, eyes narrowing in suspicion.

“Well,” she smiled awkwardly and averted her eyes to the ground, “People sometimes say things they don’t mean.”

She didn’t realise what she said until it was out of her mouth. She remembered how he was uncomfortable around her, and how he would think about lies just as he told her something. Embarrassment flooded her senses, she felt heat rising to her cheeks.

He looked at her weirdly, as if he was analyzing her. The more he looked, the more she listened to his mind. Words of suspicion floated around, she swallowed dryly and nervously at the thoughts. Echoes of screams and a crushing sense of guilt came through, she wondered what had happened for him to think of that. She wondered if she was the one person that caused him to think like that.

“I’ll return it for you,” she said, motioning for the book, trying to get the attention off of her.

“Yeah, thanks,” he said, “D’you mind if I get another?”

“Yeah, go ahead,” she said, “I’ll wait for you - at the front desk, I mean,” backing away from him, she accidentally bumped into a bookshelf, “Not, um, not any other way.”

He stared at her and nodded slightly. She turned around and walked to the front desk, cringing at her inability to mutter coherent words to him without stumbling in the middle of a phrase. Something about him made her lose all of her composure, she didn’t know if it was the constant flood of thoughts and memories she listened to from his mind or just him making her nervous.

She sat down at the chair behind the front desk, and rubbed her face, as if it would rub the embarrassment out of her. Sighing, she returned the book for Bucky. Just as the day before, his thoughts lingered in her head, images that meant very little to her were calling out.

“Why’s Tom not here?” he asked. She looked up at him, his blue eyes piercing through her. It was the first time she noticed his eyes, and somehow, it made everything worse. Instead of whispers, she heard everything clearly. Fools said the eyes were the windows to the soul. She knew better: someone’s eyes told her what they were thinking, what they were feeling. And she could tell Bucky felt a lot.

“Um,” she looked back down to the book she just admitted back, moving it to the pile of books to reshelve. “He’s on leave, doctor’s orders.”

“Back pain was somethin’ serious then?” he responded, handing the new book to her.

“Yeah, I told him to get that checked out, turns out I was right,” she shrugged, getting the book, her eyes still fixated on the computer. She felt the leather of his gloves graze the tips of her fingers, and a searing pain shot through her head. She brought the book down to the table, closing her eyes hoping the pain would stop. “Brave New World? Revisiting the classics, huh?” she struggled to keep a whimper from emerging from her mouth.

“Yeah,” he breathed out. She heard a whisper of concern run though his head, “Um, are you alright? You don’t look very well.”

She shook her head, faking a smile, pretending she wasn’t getting a thousand thoughts from everyone in the library- especially Bucky’s thoughts - blasted at maximum volume on the speakers of her mind. “Just a bit of a headache.”

“It looks serious,” she could hear the leather from his gloves squeaking as he rested his hands on top of the counter.

“I’ll be fine,” she gritted through her teeth. It had been years since she was last in a position like that, her head throbbing with thoughts that weren’t hers. “I have these all the time.”

She heard his thoughts of concern louder than the others. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

She dismissed his question, not wanting to dwell on his concern longer. “Here,” she handed the book back to him, her other hand closed in a fist, “it’s due next week. Don’t be late with it.”

“I won’t,” he said, his tone slightly strained. “I’ll return it tomorrow.”

“Okay,” she shook her head, her eyes closed and teeth gritted, choosing not to question how he would return that book tomorrow. She fisted both of her hands, her fingernails sinking in the skin of her hands. “Yeah, it’s fine,” she whispered to herself.

She heard his footsteps moving away from her, she sighed in relief, hoping it would mean her mind was going to calm itself and the headache would fade. Instead, the footsteps grew closer to her once again and then the leather of his gloves was grazing the skin of her arm, helping her stand up and guiding her somewhere.

“Imma take you to the hospital, doll” Bucky stated, not leaving room for discussion.

“No,” she tried to shake off his hold, “My shift’s not over, I can’t leave.”

“You look terrible, and you’re clearly in a lot of pain,” he grabbed her arm again, “You need to go to a doctor.”

“Doctors won’t solve this,” she once again freed herself of his hold taking a step back from him. More of his thoughts flooded her mind, a mess of memories and guilt overwhelming her. “They never solve anything,” she breathed out, her voice breaking, “I just need to rest.”

“Doll,” he dragged, his tone temptive and careful.

“No doctors,” it was the first time she had looked in his eyes willingly. There was a sort of weird determination in her eyes, one that came with years of terrible experiences with doctors. Hundreds of appointments that left her more desperate than before, endless tests and thoughts heard that she didn’t have any fix, as if she was broken in the first place.

His jaw tightened and his intense eyes fell upon hers. Her throat dried up under his gaze, her head unbearably heavy with his thoughts and hers. “Fine,” he growled, his hands moving to the pockets of his jacket, “Fine.”

“I need to go back to work,” she backed away from him, slowly. “I--I’m sorry,” she whispered, not sure why she was apologizing to him.

“It’s okay,” his jaw was still tight, his eyes were still intense lingering at her. She couldn’t even appreciate his gaze at her, and how if she was a normal person,--if she didn’t have that goddamn gene--she would have let her heart skip a beat and feel coy under his gaze. “It’s your choice.”

There was a stubbornness to his stance, something that told her he wouldn’t be backing down so easily. She couldn’t go to any doctor, she couldn’t risk anyone finding out. She didn’t want to go through the tests and the never-ending questions, whether it was out loud or not. There was only one person who could possibly help her, and she refused to go to him.

She backed away from him quickly, turning around and heading to the front desk once again. Her headphones found their way to her ears, and she started to blast her music at full volume, hoping, or rather praying, it would help ease her headache. She put her phone in her back pocket, grabbed the book she had just returned.

The cart wove between the shelves with ease under her direction. She could still feel Bucky’s presence within the library, it was like carrying an iron ball tied to her feet at all times. Unlike the day before, he was more troubled, he felt more things and more intensely. It was too much. She wondered what happened for him to be so restless.

The music hardly helped, it somehow made it worse. She couldn’t shake the tangled thoughts and think for herself, and the music disturbed even more. She dropped her headphones, frustrated. Her head pounded, desperation rose in her. She refused to call Professor, he would not help, he would only rub in her face that she shouldn’t have left. ‘This wouldn’t have happened if you stayed at the Institute, Y/N,’ she could imagine him saying if she closed her eyes.

“Are you better?” turning around, she saw Bucky, his hands inside the pockets of his jacket. His eyes were focused down, his shoulder slightly hunched. It looked like he was ashamed of asking her if she was alright, almost as if it was his fault that she was in pain. It was, but she didn’t hold it against him. She was certain it wasn’t his fault.

“Not really,” looking at him, she analyzed his expression. His jaw was tense, she could see his hands were fisted inside his pockets, “I just need to sleep.”

He nodded slightly. “You sure you don’t want anythin’?”

Her head tilted slightly and her mouth quirked up a little. She could tell he wanted to charm her, she heard the word bounce around her head faintly--the guilt was louder, though she could barely hear anything else--and she would lie if she said she didn’t like his attention. “I am” her hands entangled together, her knuckles tight, “but thanks for the offer.”

“Yeah, yeah” he breathed out, his hand brushing the side of his leg in a nervous habit. “I need to go,” he pointed back at the door, his face stony.

She sat cross legged on her bed, her eyes closed. There were candles around the room, the lighting dim and warm. The smell of incense was strong, it swallowed the entire room. It was necessary, she needed that to ground herself to the real world, and not lose herself in her mind.

Since calling Professor was not an option, she tried to take matters into her own hands. She was going to untangle the knot of thoughts Bucky had left in her head by herself. It could potentially be dangerous, if she wandered too far who knows what could happen. She had taken the necessary precautions, but she had only done that before under the careful and judgemental eye of the Professor. It was the first time she was doing it alone, it scared her to think what could go wrong.

She breathed in calmly and concentrated on the knot in front of her. Her head was a whole other world, it could be molded to her will, she felt safe in it. Now, it was a black empty space, the only thing filling it was herself and the pulsating mess of thoughts Bucky had gifted her.

Kneeling in front of it, she carefully picked apart superficial thoughts, setting them aside. They didn’t matter to what she was there to do, they were only random words and snippets of his day-to-day life that she was sure were not the ones causing him so much pain.

It didn’t take long for her to reach what pained him. It was surprising to see the amount of thoughts in front of her, usually it was much less. People tended to blow things out of proportion often, little things could cause a world of hurt to themselves. Bucky seemed to take a lot of pain, underestimating his grief. A typical mentality of someone who lacked the confidence, who didn’t trust themselves enough.

She picked a single memory and entered it.

The lighting was dim, a yellow glow swallowed her. The room was dirty and disgusting, the tiles that were once white tinted an yellowish gray. It looked like a room used for medical procedures, judging by the sheer amount of medical-like instruments littered around the desks. There were no calendars in sight, she had no way of knowing when the memory had happened.

There were at least 5 or 6 people in the room, all surrounding a metallic chair. She approached the scene, carefully. Standing beside the chair, she saw Bucky.

He couldn’t be much older than he was when she met him. His hair was slightly longer than it was currently, just brushing his forehead. He was shirtless, his skin glistening in the faint lighting of the room. His hand was tied to the chair. His temples bruised from something she hadn’t figured out yet. His chest moved violently, struggling to breathe properly. And his left shoulder? There was a red swollen scar there. She doubted the wound was fresh, more like reopened. Maybe they tried putting a prosthetic there and it failed. It was likely they hadn’t administered any painkillers in the procedure, and she felt anger boiling inside her at the thought.

“James Barnes, 3255...” he trailed off, muttering under his breath. His eyes were halfway closed, it looked like he barely could keep them opened.

“Попробуй снова,” try again, one of the doctors said.

Her eyes lingered on the doctor that had just spoken. He looked evil, and she felt in her bones he was. His smile was wicked as his eyes lingered on Bucky struggling to catch his breath tied to that chair. All of the doctors looked sadistic and malefic. She felt goosebumps flood her skin, disgusted by the situation.

The machine started whirling. An appendix lowered into Bucky’s left eye, another lowering to his right temple. Someone put a protection on his mouth, and she could see Bucky trying to free himself from his ties. Something told her, even in an altered state of mind he was already conditioned to know that noise and that feeling were bad news. She swore she saw his eyes flicker to hers just before everything started.

The screams - his screams - bounced on the walls and filled her soul in a terrifying way. Tears came to her eyes as she carefully studied what was happening to him. His hands formed fists, his knuckles totally pale on his flesh hand. His eyes were shut violently, his mouth open in a painful way. She wanted to reach out and touch him, but she couldn’t. She wanted to hug him and take him out of that awful place, but she couldn't. It was all a memory, it already had happened and she couldn’t do anything about it.

The doctors recited words in russian repetitively. Her eyes traveled to the doctor holding a red notebook. The wicked smile never faltered, completely ignoring the man in pain in front of him. She felt a urge she had fought so hard to suppress: she wanted to invade their brains, pick them apart and tear them down from the inside. She wanted to scream and shout at them and destroy everything in the room with a single thought. The fact that she was inside a memory and couldn’t physically change anything bothered her little. The anger and sadness she felt were real.

The machine stopped humming and Bucky stopped screaming. When he opened his eyes, she saw something that utterly terrified her. His eyes were empty, devoid of emotion, very much unlike mere seconds before. They were wide open, focused forward, looking beyond the doctor that was hovering over him.

“Soldat?” one of the doctors asked, a wicked smile forming on his lips.

“Готовы соответствовать,” ready to comply.

The room became blurry and she was sucked out of the memory. She stood there in front of the knot of thoughts. A feeling of inadequacy overwhelmed her, and she willed herself out of her own mind. She shouldn’t have done that, not without his permission. He didn’t even know she could hear his thoughts, much less explore the memories he had left with her.

She gasped for air as she came back to her senses. Bucky was much more complicated than she had anticipated, and the guilt he carried around with him wasn’t blown out of proportion and unwarranted. He felt as if things he had done, whatever those things were, had been his responsibility. But she knew more about the mind than him, she knew that that person she had watched be tortured was not him. Those eyes told her nothing, and his eyes told her everything and more. Those eyes were from someone who was a puppet, stripped of free will and agency. So maybe his guilt was warranted, but it didn’t mean it was his fault.

She rubbed her face and laid in her bed, looking up at the ceiling. Her heart raced inside her chest, the adrenaline of doing something so wrong settling on her. She would have to be honest with him. She let a shuddery breath, as she realized she was at the point she avoided when meeting people. The fear of rejection was crushing and familiar and with time she realized it was easier to push people away, not forming connections deeper than trivial than to explain what she was. But Bucky was different, she felt it in her bones. And she wasn’t willing to let him go. #

Tuesdays were fuller than Mondays, but only slightly. Maybe one or two more students came in, trying to get ahead of the curve and not procrastinate their studies more than necessary. The amount of work she had was enough to keep her busy throughout the day, even without Tom’s help.

She hummed the song in her headphones, weaving her way through the shelves, puting the few books that were returned that day back where they belonged. It was the part of her job that gave her the most pleasure. It gave her a sense of control and order, something that had lacked almost her entire life, especially while she was at the Institute. Professor had controlled everything back then. He controlled her and Peter and all the others to be something that most would not have chosen to be if given the choice. It made her feel helpless and tiny. But she had freed herself from that reality, much to Professor’s dislike. And now she could happily find her control in tiny things, like putting books back on their shelves.

“How come I always come when no one’s at the front desk?”, her headphones fell to her neck as she turned around to look at Bucky. He wore a shy smile on his face, clutching two books tightly in his gloved hands. His thoughts were quieter that day, but still present and loud. She doubted it was enough to give her a headache, but it was enough to leave a mark on her mind.

“Well, I’d say it’s just your luck,” the corners of her mouth quirked up. “Wanna check those out?” she pointed at the books in his hands.

“Yeah,” he breathed out. She started walking towards the front desk, Bucky at her tail. “So, are you better?”

“Yep,” she nodded, getting behind the desk and taking the books out of his hands, “Told you I just needed to rest.”

“Doll,” his head tilted, his eyes carefully analyzing her. She heard worry bounce around his head, “you looked like you were about to drop dead.”

She shook her head, a smile creeping its way to her face. “It’s more common than you think, it’s fine, Bucky, really,” dismissing his worry, like it was the best way to earn his trust. “For whom the Bells tolls? Really diving into the classics, huh?”

“Need some comfort,” he shrugged. “It’s been 80 years since I read these, it felt like the time to re-read.”

“80 years,” she dragged, “You look a lot younger.”

His face became briefly stony, his brain going haywire for a second before he relaxed and gave her an awkward laugh. “You’re a lot funnier when you’re not in pain.”

“Aren’t we all?” she slid the book over to him. “It’s due next week, don’t b--”

“Be late with it, I know,” he completed, “I’ll return it tomorrow. Like always”

She heard words of charm and flattery from his mind. It was a timid voice saying it, if she had been distracted she wouldn’t have heard it. Her eyes trailed downwards, her smile tiny and shy. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say that you’re lying.”

“How’d you know better?” his eyes narrowed at her and his head tilted to the side. She found it absolutely charming that he did that when he was confused.

“I read minds,” she said, seriously, her face impartial, very much unlike mere seconds before.

“That’s funny,” he laughed, pointing at her.

She opened an awkward smile at him, looking carefully at his expression. His mind told her he thought she was pranking him, being funny to charm him. She wasn’t. “I know you think I’m trying to charm you,” her eyes looking at her feet, her fingers entwined in a nervous habit, “but I’m not,” she finished, whispering.

She could hear confusion clearly in his thoughts. It wasn’t exactly at how she could read his mind, more to why she was telling him the fact. “I can hear your thoughts very clearly, they’re very loud,” she whispered. After all these years of experience with this power, it never got easier telling people about it. “And I didn’t think it was fair to listen to your thoughts - you think a lot you know? - all so loudly and clearly,” She couldn’t look at him, her eyes were still cast downwards in shame, “If you want to, I can explain how it is, we can go for a walk or whatever.”

She could feel his intense gaze on her skin, she didn’t dare to look up. Disappointment was one of the things she hated the most, one she had dealt with a lot. Seeing it in his face would surely break her heart, even if only a little bit. “Fine,” she heard him say it, airly, “But you’re paying.”

She looked up and his expression was impassive. But his eyes were twinkling with a sort of curiosity and wonder that could only mean good things. A weird sort of relief washed over her. She let out a sigh, her features relaxing. “Great,” she brushed a piece of her hair out of her face, “great,” she breathed out, “I just need to close this place.”

“I’ll wait.”

“Tell me what that boy’s thinking,” he said, pointing to a little boy by the pond feeding the ducks happily.

Her eyes trailed to the kid, trying to focus on him. It was an exercise she hadn’t done in a while, since she had left the Institute really. “He’s happy he’s with his dad,” she reported, “he doesn’t see his dad often and he misses him.”

“What about the dad?” his hands were in his pockets, his gaze locked on the dad sat on the bench just behind the kid.

“He’s guilty he doesn’t spend enough time with his son,” she added, her eyes following the posture of the man. His eyes were fixed on his son, watching his every move. It was clear he felt some sort of guilt towards his son, and it was easy to assume that by his stance alone--if you were observant enough. Bucky was, “He works two jobs to pay the child support. He can’t find time between them often.”

“How do I know that you didn’t just meet those people and they told you their life story?” Bucky questioned, his gaze intense and locked on her. They stopped beneath a tree, orange sun rays peeking from between the leaves.

“It’s the first time I've ever seen them,” she plopped down beneath the tree, crossing her legs childishly, “I barely leave my apartment.”

He stared at her, his gaze strong and judgmental. Huffing, he calmly got down and sat beside her, his legs spread out in front of him. He crossed his hands on his lap, and her gaze locked at his left hand. She wondered if the arm was still the same as the one she had seen in his memory. That arm sent chills down her spine, it was intimidating and terrifying, the red star staring at her menacingly. “Why, though?”

“I can’t, really,” she shrugged. She looked up, her head tilting to the side, considering her words. “I have these lockdowns when I’m surrounded by too many people. It hasn’t happened in years but,” her eyes closed, the memories of the last lockdown she had flooding back at her. She saw her younger self falling to her knees in the middle of the Institute’s lobby, screaming and clutching her ears, “but it happens, and I’d rather not go through that. I’m not in speaking terms with the person that can help me and I’ll do anything to not talk to him again.”

His lips formed a thin line. A hum trembled his chest, his head resting on the tree behind them. “How much have you seen from…” his jaw clenched, his voice quiet and hesitant.

“Not much,” she dragged. “I stopped after I realized that I, um, that I was…”she found she couldn’t complete the sentence under his strong gaze. “It wasn’t fair to you for me to see anything, not without you knowing.”

“What did you see?” he gritted through his teeth, his eyes watery and sad.

“I saw,” she gulped, her voice straining with emotion as she looked deep into his eyes, “I saw you, um, tied to a chair. You were so out of it,” she shook her head, tears flooding her eyes, “you were mumbling your name and some numbers. And then,” she sighed, picking up strength to continue, “and then they - they broke you.”

“What else?” he growled, his hands in fists. His eyes were no longer sad, there was a latent anger in them. It made her sad that she was the cause of his anger, or rather the target.

“Nothing,” she shook her head, “nothing else. Nothing other than random words from your day to day.”

He considered her for a moment, his eyes hovering her face frantically. She tried her best not to listen to his mind, trying to focus on elsewhere, on someone else. But he was like a magnet, and she could help but to be attracted to him and his thoughts. Words of confusion, anger and infatuation floated in his brain and echoed in hers. “Can you turn it off? Your...thing?” he pointed to her head almost in disdain. She knew better than to believe his gestures.

“Not exactly,” she hugged her legs, her chin resting on her knees. “If I could, I would have, a long time ago.”

They remained in silence after that. He looked at the clouds, considering everything she had just told him. She looked everywhere but at him, trying to stray her mind from him. It felt impossible, he became her gravity center, and she couldn’t really escape it. She found that she didn’t want to.

“How did you get the…” he tried to find the right words, “the mind reading thing?”

She laughed at his silly phrasing. “I was born with it,” she looked down at her hands, her cheeks feeling hot. “Professor picked me up and took me to the Institute after I turned 13 because of it.”

“That sounds like a cute way of saying you were kidnapped by the guy,” he commented, his tone serious and his eyes on her.

“I wasn’t,” she tilted her head towards him, as if she was telling him a secret. “I went willingly, actually. The nightmares were getting worse and the headaches,” her eyes locked with his for a brief second as she brushed a piece of her hair out of her face, “well, headaches like yesterday’s are light ones compared to those. And the Professor, he promised to help me control it.”

“That doesn't sound suspicious at all,” she could hear him roll his eyes in disdain.

“He did help me,” she assured him, “but at the time, I didn't realize that it would come with a cost.”

“I’m guessing he wanted something out of you,” he inferred, “that you weren’t willing to give.”

“Something like that,” she responded, her voice vague and distant. Remembering the things Professor had planned for her made her scared and, most of all, angry. Angry he dared to think she would be so desperate to abide by his wishes. She had learned that following his plans brought her nothing more than frustration and loneliness, he robbed her and her friends of a stable childhood so they could become his pawns. “He wasn’t a good person.”

“I get that,” he whispered, his head down, looking at his hands. He opened and closed his left hand repetitively. The anger he had felt once she had told him what she had done came back, but directed towards someone else.

“Listen, Bucky,” she turned her whole body towards him. Her hands itched to grab his, but she knew neither of them were prepared to cross that line, “I’m truly sorry that I… couldn’t control myself. I figured that if I could decipher your thoughts the headaches would stop, but I didn’t realize how much you kept hidden,” she confessed, her fingers fiddling with themselves in a nervous habit. “I didn’t want to hurt your feelings, I want to give you a chance to tell me these things yourself, that’s why I told you.”

He looked at her for a moment before responding. “You told someone who you’d only known for a couple of days your biggest secret,” he recited, almost as if he had been rehearsing the line in his mind over and over, “because you felt bad.”

“Well, when you put it like that it sounds foolish,” she grumbled. “I know what’s like not to be given a choice, and I wanted you to have the choice to, you know, walk away from me,” she finished, her voice just above a whisper. She struggled to keep her tears at bay, a couple of them spilling and running down her cheeks.

“Why would I walk away from you?” he asked her, sincerity in his eyes.

“You wouldn’t be the first person,” her eyes were cast forward, looking way beyond the park. She didn’t bother cleaning the tears that were rolling down her face. “And you wouldn’t be the last, certainly.”

“Doll,” he dragged, his voice low and beautiful, “I wouldn’t.”

She could barely hear his thoughts over her own. She couldn’t think straight anymore, too many emotions flooded her own senses, it was all too much. Her hands rubbed her eyes, trying to rid them of the tears. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to cry.”

“It’s okay,” he shook his head. “But, seriously, don’t tell your biggest secret to someone you barely know.”

She laughed at his suggestion, her smile watery. “I won’t, don’t worry,” her head tilted to the side, her eyes carefully studying his face. It was the first time she truly took him in. His face was so wonderfully beautiful. His nose and his lips were perfect. But it was his eyes that would always fascinate her. So wonderfully blue and so beautifully deep. It was impossible to not fall in love with him with those eyes.

He got up and brushed his gloves on the sides of his pants. He offered her his right hand, “How’d you say we get that coffee now and you tell me the craziest things you’ve ever seen people think?”

She smiled sincerely at him, her eyes looking up at him in admiration. She took his hand and she let him guide her.

“Doll, you need to start staying at the front desk,” he leaned casually on the side of the bookcase, looking calmly at her as she turned around to face him. “What if someone important comes in and there’s no one there?

She felt amused at Bucky’s teasing and smiled. “Tom’s supposed to be there, he must have just left to do something,” she stated, smugly. “Besides, you’re the only important person that comes here. At least, to me you are,” she tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear.

He bit his lip and looked at her in a way that made her melt. “Aren’t you a charmer.”

She could hear clearly in his thoughts he was amused by her behavior, the word ‘charm’ levitating around her brain. “I learned from the best,” she shrugged brushing past him and walking towards the front desk.

She heard his heavy footsteps behind her. “Are we still up for tonight?” his voice had an edge that wasn’t there before. She sat down on her chair behind the counter as her eyes carefully analyzed his face. His jaw was tense, his eyebrows were furrowed and his fingers were tight around the book he meant to return.

“I’ve been up for it every day for the past month, Bucky,” she narrowed her eyes at him. His jaw clenched even more in a way she didn’t know possible. She tried to ignore his thoughts and the words that bounced around her brain. “What are you trying to say?” she asked softly, taking the book from him gently.

He sighed, resting his elbows on the counter he leaned in. “Sam needs my help,” he said, his voice low and tired. She could tell he wasn’t telling her the full truth, but she didn’t push it.

“Oh,” she muttered, typing away to return the book he brought. “So you’re cancelling?”

“Doll, I wouldn’t if it wasn’t important,” he stated. She could tell he was sad, his eyes told her so, and so did the words in his head. It pained her to see him give up their time together. It was cherished by both, and she suspected it was maybe one of the only moments of the day Bucky didn’t have to hold everything in. Mostly because she could see everything he was hiding.

“Don’t,” she stopped him before he could further apologize. “I understand, an Avenger’s calling you,” she whispered, a devilish smile on her lips, “how could you not answer it?”

“I can think of a lot of ways,” he gritted. He had told her his qualms with Sam Wilson, but it only seemed like friendly teasing and nothing else. Nothing too serious, that's what she judged it to be.

“Bucky,” she warned him, “there are more important people than me, and Sam is definitely one of those. Don’t feel guilty, that’s what I’m trying to say.”

“Y/N,” he never used her first name. He would call her ‘doll’, or ‘love’ or even sometimes ‘sweetheart’, but never by her first name. Hearing it leave his lips sobered her up quickly, “there’s no one more important to me than you.”

Her mouth hung open in complete shock at his declaration. Her brain short-circuited for a moment, before recomposing herself. She opened her mouth to respond him but he quickly beat her to it.

“I’m truly sorry, love,” he shook his head, his eyes cast downwards.

Her eyes hovered him quietly for a second before slipping the book to him. “I extended the due date. Two weeks and nothing more,” she said, sternly. “You know the drill, Bucky.”

“Don’t be late with it, I know,” he recited. His eyes lingered on hers for longer than it normally would. It felt as if he was memorizing her, studying the little details of her face, the little quirks of her personality. She felt heat rising to her cheeks, like every time she was under his intense gaze. He looked downwards for a moment, his mouth slightly opened. “I won’t be gone too long, just a couple of days.”

She got up from her chair and walked to his side. She bit her lip as he watched her go around the front desk. He leaned on his arm, casually standing there as she looked down at her feet in front of him. “You have my number, I’m just a phone call away,” she muttered shyly. She couldn’t handle this flirty interactions with Bucky. Mostly because she would have to juggle her own thoughts with his. But there was something about his demeanor at that moment that put her at ease, she didn’t feel the need to juggle both of their thoughts, only to embrace them. She let herself feel the butterflies and be fully flustered under his charm. It felt nice. “I’m gonna miss you,” she whispered.

“Yeah, me too,” he looked at her eyes, deeply and soulfully. She didn’t know how she hadn’t melted at the spot. “I’ll be back, I promise.”

The corners of her mouth quirked up. “I know,” her lips brushed his cheek. She quickly kissed it and looked back at him. “You should probably go. Don’t wanna keep Sam waitin’.”

He smiled at her one last time before leaving her. His smile, there was something different about that. It felt sincere and genuine, unlike all his other smiles that were usually caused by awkwardness and embarrassment. She had seen something completely different in that smile, something she couldn’t exactly place yet.

She arrived quietly at her apartment, carrying a bag full of groceries and flowers for her tiny garden out in the fire-escape. Her upstairs neighbor had complained about it for months, until he joined and now she shared it with him. She had plans to make the whole building to contribute to the little garden, she was almost convincing her downstairs neighbor and she was a pivotal person.

The apartment was too quiet, unlike normally. There were always whispers of her neighbor’s thoughts echoing through the walls, the busy sounds of the streets, the shouts outside from people going by their day.

“I know you’re here,” she shouted to her apartment, “you weren’t subtle about it.”

“I knew you wouldn’t talk to me, otherwise,” Professor rolled in. He hadn’t changed a single bit since the last time she had seen him. His clothes were the same, his bald head glistened the same way it did, and his chair was just as stoic as his face. She hated him and seeing him in her apartment only reminded her of that.

“That’s cause I don’t want to talk to you, Professor, I thought I had made myself clear,” she growled, resting the bag and the flowers on the kitchen counter. “Why are you here?”

“It has come to my knowledge you’ve been having your episodes,” he said, robotically.

“I’m not having any episodes, I'm fine” she muttered, her back turned to Professor. She cursed Peter mentally for being a fucking snitch. Next time she saw him she was going to give him a piece of her mind.

“You’re not,” he corrected her. As usual, she only heard him in a tone of superiority and condencense, he always knew best. “We know what happens when you let yourself go with other people’s thoughts, child.”

“Don’t call me that,” she gripped the counter, her teeth gritted and her eyes shut. Her hands felt clammy, almost slipping from the counter. She had escaped the Institute, she had sworn she would never go back, for fucking Peter to bring Professor to her again. She knew Peter did it because he was worried. It still didn’t make it sting less. “I said I’m fine, I have everything under control.”

“How long have you been taking the suppressing pills?” he asked her, his voice judgemental and cold.

She turned around to face him for the first time. He was impossible to read, he always made sure of that. As much as she begged him to teach her how to do it, to help her block out thoughts and stop people from getting into her head, he never really did it. She had to discover for herself, and, in that, she never was as effective as him. “It’s none of your business,” she scoffed. “It’s not like I’m of any use to you anymore, Professor. I’m sure you have a brand new shiny pawn you can play with that’s even better than I was. Besides,” she added, crossing her arms on her chest, “you gave me those pills.”

“They’re for emergencies only, Y/N, not continuous use,” he shook his head at her, his piercing through hers, She looked down avoiding his gaze, her jaw tight. Her head started to feel heavy, and she didn’t know if it was his prying or something worse. “Do you remember the last time you used those same pills continuously?”

Her teeth gritted and she closed her eyes to stop him from seeing the tears accumulating in them. She looked at him, her eyes completely angry and full of hurt, “I'm a lot stronger that I was back then,” she gritted.

“Bad things happen when you repress your power,” Professor warned, leaning on his knees. “You learned that the hard way.”

“I haven't taken them in days.” she stated, trying to keep her head focused and her voice free of emotion. Professor considered her for a moment. She could feel him prying in her head, searching for traces of a lie well told. She knew he wouldn’t find any, she told the truth, even if it was half of it.

“I know you’re not telling everything,” he told her, his hands fiddling with the orange vial temptevely. “What are you hiding?”

She scoffed, rolling her eyes at him. When she was younger, she wouldn’t even consider behaving badly around him. Now, she knew better. “I don’t owe you any explanations, Professor. I don’t even understand why are you here,” she pointed accusingly at him. “You've done a pretty good job showing you don’t care all my life, I find it hard to believe you care now.”

His eyes found hers, as always completely unreadable. But she saw the little details, the way his jaw tightened slightly, the way his fingers opened and closed the cap of the bottle nervously. It was hard to tell if the tick was fabricated or not, she could never tell with him. “Very well,” he said. “I’ll be in touch,” he wheeled himself towards the door.

“Please don’t,” she said clearly as he exited her apartment.

As the door closed she let a shuddery breath, laying on her couch in exhaustion. She let a couple of tears fall from her eyes, quickly drying them after. She had cried because of Professor too many times in her life, she would not cry for him one more time.

Her phone vibrated on her back pocket. She sniffed and fished out, checking what was the cause of the notification. ‘Just arrived. Call me’ from Bucky. Her heart picked up, smiling at her phone happily.

It rang a couple of times before he picked up. “You’re late,” she said, before he had the chance to say anything to her, “you said a couple of days.”

“I’m sorry, doll,” he breathed out, “it took longer than anticipated.”

“It’s okay,” she shook her head, a smile on her face. “The book, though, you’re gonna have to pay a fee for being late.”

He laughed at the other end of the line. “First time I ever return it late, can’t you make an exception for me?”

“I didn’t do anything, it was Tom,” she stated quickly. Her lips adorned a permanent smile, so much it barely seemed Professor had just left her apartment. They stayed quiet before anyone said anything.

“I missed you,” he whispered, her heart racing in her chest as he recited the words.

“I missed you too,” she replied back, her voice soft and full of emotion. She tried to contain her tears, an accumulation of feelings from just before and that moment but she couldn’t. “I was so lonely, I’m so glad you’re back.”

“Me too, love,” he sighed on the other end of the line. She could imagine him looking down at his feet, a silly smile on his lips. His eyes were twinkling in her mind the way that melted her, he looked absolutely beautiful as usual. “Do you want to go out? I owe you 2 weeks worth of coffee.”

She looked at the ceiling, trying to contain her heart and failing miserably. “Yeah, yeah, I’d like that,” she breathed out.

“I’ll pick you up in 20.”

She hung up the phone and got up from her couch, a silly smile on her face. Her smile soon faded after she realised what she had done. She was only off the pills for 2 days, it wasn’t enough time for her powers to normalize. Without Bucky present, the abstinence wasn’t as noticeable. Sure, she could hear everything more clearly, the music her neighbor had stucky in his head, or the busy thoughts of a random person passing on the sidewalk. But Bucky always had a thousand things in his head, and that surely would be a problem.

She was telling the truth to the Professor. She wasn’t taking them continuously, only a couple of times a week, when Bucky’s thoughts were always the loudest. But she hadn’t told him that she had stopped so late, later than she should have. She was toeing the line again, just like she had done when she was a kid and the prospect of not listening to everyone all the time seemed too good to be true.

A sigh escaped her lips, her heart racing inside her chest, not for the right reasons. She hoped she could control it, keep her latent power at bay just like she did everyday. It was easy to fool herself like that. She forgot how addicting Bucky could be, how wrapped up in him she would get. It was almost an experiment: how would she deal with Bucky’s mind when her power was at the most raw. She wondered if she should be curious or scared.

Her hands sweated as she unpacked her groceries. A cold rush ran through her spine, and she remembered the symptoms she experienced the last time she was off the pills. Dread settled in her, anticipating what was about to come. She cursed Professor, her stupid mutated gene and those fucking pills. She often wondered what would have happened if she never manifested any powers, how her life would have played out.

Then, her senses were flooded by Bucky. She whipped around to the door, seeing the shadow of his feet lingering outside. Her head felt heavy and there was a pain blooming, something much worse than the ones she’d endured when she first met him. It was a side effect, she should have expected that. She leaned on her table for a moment, trying to get used to the pain. The knock echoed through her apartment. She barely registered it, his thoughts flooding her. It was all so incoherent, flashes of yellowed memories and newer ones ran through her head. She heard her name screamed in his head over and over again, his voice whispering pet names he had given her with images of their time together.

She opened the door and there he was, standing in front of her. He wasn’t wearing his traditional gloves, and he had dodged the leather jacket of a simple longed sleeved t-shirt pulled at his elbows. It was the first time she saw his arm being displayed so freely, so unashamedly. He wore a boyish smile on his face, holding a bouquet of yellow and purple flowers meant for her. “I brought you flowers,” he handed the bouquet to her, his eyes twinkling with a charm she hadn’t seen in him before. “You said you wanted to expand your garden,” he justified with a shrug, his eyes on the bouquet. The smile never left his lips.

She almost forgot about her symptoms, letting his charm encapsulate her and warm her heart. She accepted the flowers, their smell overwhelming her. She stepped aside for him to come in, he ducked his head and got in the apartment quietly. It wasn’t the first time he had been over, but it was still odd to see him in her place. It looked smaller with him in it, less lonely.

“Thank you,” she whispered, closing the door. Her hands glued to the plastic wrapping of the flowers. She wiped her other hand on her pants, gulping nervously. If before she thought his thoughts were loud, in that moment it seemed like they were being blasted in amplifiers at maximum volume. “How’ve you been?” she stuttered, her mouth dry.

“I’m good, good,” he laughed looking down, his hands on his pockets. She could tell he wasn’t lying, for the first time she asked him that question he actually answered it honestly. “How are you, doll?”

She grabbed a pot and some dirt to stick the bouquet in it from the cabinet under the kitchen island. “I’m okay,” she replied quietly. Resting the supplies next to the sunflower she had just bought, a wave of nausea washed over her. She felt the color drain out of her face, feeling lightheaded. Her hands gripped tightly around the backrest of a chair, trying to not collapse to the floor.

She heard him rush to her side, his hands supporting her. The cool touch of his metal arm was contrastant with how hot her skin felt at the moment. “You don’t look okay,” it was like he was yelling in her ear, but she knew his voice was barely above a whisper. “What happened?”

“I’m off my pills,” she gripped his forearms, her eyes shut close. She tried organizing her head, separating her own thoughts with the thoughts of others.

“Let me get them for you,” he guided her to the couch, gently sitting her down.

“No,” she reached for him, her voice dying in her throat. Her hold on his wrist was weak, her eyes closed. The light only worsened her headache, she couldn’t bear to open her eyes. “There’s none left.”

“What d’you mean there’s nothing left?” he asked her, his voice strained. She knew he tried to contain his worry, but it slipped out in his tone. If she wasn’t so sick, she would have appreciated his care. “It seems like something important to have.”

“Professor took ‘em,” her words slurred, “I can’t take more, Bucky.”

“Why?” he hesitated, “what happened?”

“My powers,” her jaw clenched at the sharp pain going through her head, “I just wanted to spend time with you, Bucky, but the pain…” the tears spilled from her eyes, her eyes still closed. The grip on Bucky was tight, she was holding onto him like he was her lifeline, the only thing grounding her to the real world and not her head.

He sat beside her, his hands hovering over her, unsure of what to do. She heard a sliver of guilt going through him, and sadness overwhelmed her because of that. “I’m sorry,” he whispered to her.

“No,” she shook her head, wrapping him up in her arms, “it’s my fault. You’re amazing, Bucky, and I couldn’t stay away,” her tears wet his shirt, her head resting on his shoulder snuggly. She couldn’t help but notice the safe feeling that overwhelmed her in that moment. It was almost like it was where she belonged, safe in his arms. “Your mind… it’s just so beautiful, you’re so beautiful, Bucky. And I was greedy, I wanted you to myself, even if it meant a little pain.”

“A little?” he asked, his voice laced with a sassiness she hadn’t seen before.

She laughed quietly, looking at his face. His blue eyes were sincere, full of emotion and thoughts she could never bring herself to decipher. “A lot,” she sighed, her eyes fixated on his. “I fell back into old habits.”

“I get it,” he assented, his eyes cast on hers, looking for something she didn’t quite know what it was. “Is there anything I can do?”

“Stay,” she whispered, her heart beating fast inside her. “Please, stay.”

And Bucky did. For the first time, someone who had met her, all of her, stayed with her. That only made her love him more. He hugged her tightly, his head resting on the crook of her neck. “I’ll stay,” he reassured her, his thumb caressing her shoulder gently, “I got you”

She mumbled ‘I’m sorry’ like a prayer on his shoulder. It was too much input, her own emotions and his blended and her tears were their escape. “I shouldn’t have unloaded this on you,” she sniffed, breaking the hug. “It’s not fair.”

“Hey,” he gently pushed her hands out of her face. Her face was swollen and her eyes were red, but she could tell he didn’t care, she heard the word ‘beautiful’ bounce around in his head. “I can take it.”

She shook her head, words unable to escape her quivering lips. “Hey, stop,” he said firmly but lovingly, “listen to me,” he grabbed her face delicately, his fingers brushing her cheeks delicately. “I can take it, doll. Trust me. I have my demons too,” he whispered, “and they don’t scare you. You don’t scare me. I’m not going anywhere.”

Even if she wanted to, she couldn’t look away from his eyes. The sincerity in them disarmed her completely, the little restraint she had completely gone. Her breath hitched at the sight of the glimmer in his eyes and the love in his mind. “Thank you,” she mouthed, her voice gone.

“You’re welcome,” he smiled at her, the boyish grin he had sported when he arrived back. “How about I make you some tea?” he got up, walking a few steps to the kitchen. He moved around like her tiny little flat was where he belonged. “I make a mean chamomile tea.”

She laughed quietly, her brain slowly calming down, her fever settling. “I’d like that.”

#Bucky Barnes #TFATWS #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #one shot #marvel fanfiction #Sebastian Stan #bucky barnes x librarian!reader #my masterlist

191 notes · View notes

heyitsyn · 4 years ago

Text

Manager!Seijoh Part 3

a/n: yall i love seijoh so much like theyre my favorite school and my favorite boys and i know their names by heart and im just so SOFT for them !!!!!

also: yall will find out what other fandom ill be writing for in the future in this one

for more seijoh content, check this masterlist out!

combined two anon requests:

- Could we get the boys reacting to finding out the seijoh manager is quite popular to both genders?? Maybe they over hear a confession?

- Why do I feel like half of the team would be all pouty when word comes around that a guy confessed to manager, the others would probably be annoyed/irritated. Oikawa being all bratty cause no matter what he tried,she never showed ant interest when he flirts. But now this boy comes alone ... (but like you said manager is too focused in school and the team)

MY HEART WAS RIPPED OUT OF MY CHEST AND THROWN INTO A BLENDER WHEN I SAW THIS PART OR JUST WHEN SEIJOH LOST IN GENERAL BC MY BABIES WORKED SO HARD AAAAAAA

oof girl the world is ending

so basically,,,,,

the entire just magically knew about what happened earlier and yahaba’s theory of team telepathy really does work bc not even a minute after it happened, they all spammed you messages and next thing you knew, oikawa was naruto-ing down from the 3rd floor to your class in the first floor

tbh, they shouldve seen this coming yanno?

you were ridiculously pretty and you carried yourself w such elegance and grace that it just seemed to hypnotize everyone into stopping what they were doing and watched you in awe doing the most mundane things like walking or sitting

lmao couldnt be me

your confessions usually happened over letters bc either tol boys kunimi or kindaichi are usually around you at all times so theyre too scared to do anything

hence why your locker was always filled with envelopes yet no upfront public confessions

it ranged from upperclassmen and upperclasswomen who expressed their interest in you and wanted to date you and get to know you better

but tf you dont even know them and you werent about to date a whole stranger

this made the boys a little peeved because you were popular with both the boys and the gals so they were constantly on edge on who was talking to you

it was like having an oikawa 2.0 but not indulging them and pretending theyre not even there

like when you walk to class and sit down, they would flock over and offer you drinks and snacks but you either turned them down or just flat-out ignored them

maybe this was what fueled others on more

your reserved attitude and your refusals made it look like you were playing hard to get and it was almost like a game on who could win the heart of the princess of seijoh

this was proven really difficult because not only do they have your dismissals, you also had guard dogs at every corner and would bite their head off at the slight indication of an interaction

however,,,,

today,,,

this morning,,,,

at 7:53 AM,,,,

they saw you walking down the hallway with a purple-haired boy holding your bag and you giggling at what he was saying

um EXCUSE ME MAAM WHAT

EVERYONE HAS BEEN TRYING TO GAIN YOUR AFFECTIONS FOR MONTHS YET YOU ARE HERE INTERACTING WITH A MALE WHO NO ONE EVEN KNOWS

ESPECIALLY SINCE HE WAS A MALE WHO WAS STANDING RIGHT THERE RIGHT NEXT TO YOU AND HE WASNT A MEMBER OF THE TEAM

!!!!!

and ofc, the boys would immediately know even though theyre spread all over the school

it was kyoken who saw you as he was leaning against your locker and his eyes narrowed before he secretly took a picture and sent it to yahaba, asking if there was a new guy who entered the team while he was away

when he replied with a panicked, ‘NO WHO IS THAT’

kyoken was already advancing to you

yahaba-san immediately sent the picture to the team group chat, that excluded you rood, and oikawa wasted no time and even pushed some fangirls so he could go to you

‘-and she destroyed my sheets’

you laughed at the story and hitoshi stared at you with awe in his eyes

how can someone laugh so beautifully?

like a snort should be considered ugly and gross but it was like cute little squeaks from you and he thought you were like a fairy

‘oh god, i wasnt-’

you were cut off with a hand that held your arm

you came face to face with the glaring face of one of your boys and you immediately turned to him in concern, immediately grasping an arm with the other hand on his cheek to look for any cuts

he rarely comes to you on a normal basis so you thought something was wrong

‘whats wrong, kyo-san? did you get into a fight? do you need me to patch you up?’

he didnt care what you were saying, instead heatedly glaring at this new guy, and grunted a response to agreeing with you going to the nurse

just anywhere to get you away from this,,,, stranger

‘toshi i have to-’

then you were cut off again

‘YYYYY/NNNNNNN-CHHHHHAAAANNNNNNNNNN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!’

‘OI SHITTYKAWA!’

‘OIKAWA-SAN!’

‘OIKAWA!’

‘CAPTAIN!’

from behind you, 5 tol looming figures were running towards you and next thing you knew, you were in the arms of your captain

‘oikawa-san! what are you doing?!’

oikawa held you tightly against his chest and had his arms tightly around your form to prevent you from being taken away

most of the volleyball team were now circling you and pointedly glaring at the poor boy who was so confused that he wasnt bothered by the death glares

‘oh, its you’

kunimi grumbled

‘kunimi, whats happening?’

hitoshi questioned

you fought away from the hold of oikawa and pushed mattsukawa and hanamaki to stand in front of shinsou hitoshi

‘so sorry about this, toshi. i’ll help you with your room later and ill text you when practice is finished, okay?’

you sheepishly smiled and he nodded, his own smile reassuring you

‘yep. ill see you later then’

‘bye’

you softly said and he turned to walk away

but as soon as he was out of sight, you turned around with a grim looking expression and your hands on your hips, a hard look in your eyes

‘boys, what was that?’

you gritted out

‘y/n-chan! don’t you see?! he was going to take you away! he was an intrude-OW!’

he yelped when you reached up and grabbed his ear before grabbing the other closest who was iwaizumi

they both whined and complained about the ear and slapped your hand but you didnt let up

‘he is a friend, oikawa-san. you have no right on who i can be friends and who i can hang out with because i still have a life outside the team!’

you scolded and the others hung their heads low like puppies

‘sorry, y/n-chan’

oikawa mumbled and iwaizumi also mumbled his apology so you let go of them, dusting off your hands

‘and the rest of you, hold back your captain and dont intimidate him like that!’

‘sorry’

you sighed but ruffled their hair before turning to go to class

‘now, be good boys and dont bother others like this again’

‘yes’

they chorused and you nodded, satisfied

‘ill hold you to it!’

you shouted as you walked down the hallway

when you turned a corner, oikawa grabbed kunimi by the arms

‘you know him, dont you? who is he? what class? address? mother’s name? father’s name? age-’

‘oi stop it, shittykawa’

but despite that, iwaizumi looked at the younger, expecting answers as well

kunimi sighed

‘thats shinsou hitoshi from class 1-3. we have gym together’

and ‘we’ was kunimi and you since you were both in the same class so you constantly saw this shinsou boy?

nuh uh, dont think so, francisco

from the looks of it, you were still single and there was a pining from shinso’s part, maybe yours they dont know

and they were going to do everything in their power to keep you away from him

this was excused to them as protecting their manager from someone else and they werent going to let you be taken by someone else

during practice, they grilled you over your relationship with him

‘i honestly dont know why this is your business but if you must know, his adoptive father, aizawa-san, is my mother’s co-worker and i usually catsit for them. dont worry, we’re not dating. just friends, that’s all’

but they know it wasnt just a friendship type of situation

so when the 4 third years saw you being confessed to by this ‘friend’ outside, they almost toppled out the window as they tried to listen to what was being said

‘shittykawa get off my back!’

‘nuh uh! i want to see clearly!’

‘everyone needs to know that code red is happening!’

yall what

mattsun took a picture and sent it to the gc about their princess being confessed to

no one replied, possibly too upset or too busy sulking

kyoken actually had to be excused outside bc he was glaring at everyone and everything and the teacher and students were so scared that they had to take him out of class

they were even more peeved when you just walked in like nothing happened

you didnt mention the confession to anyone else the whole day and when you entered the gym, it was very tense

the coaches even looked confused

‘did you guys fight?’

you questioned but no one answered

kunimi and kindaichi were playing with a ball and glaring at it as it hit the floor

the 2nd years yes including kyobabie were pouting to the side

the 3rd years looked annoyed and pissed off

overall just not seijoh babie vibes

i am uncomfortable with the energy we have created in the gym today🧚✨

‘hey’

you gently said and walked to the captain to figure out what was going on

‘oikawa-san, what happened?’

‘are you dating him now, y/n?’

the seriousness in his voice shocked you and you took a step back in surprise

your expression made him think that you did accept the confession and he scoffed before walking away and doing a jump serve that sounded like a canon blasting

but you were actually confused and surprised that they even knew bc you were sure it was a secluded area where no one could see you

‘dating,,,? dating who?’

you asked to them and the 3rd years just knitted their eyebrows

‘dont play coy, y/n-chan’

oikawa hissed

‘no matter how many times i flirted or asked you on dates, you never said yes. never agreed or even showed a little bit of interest. on me!! your captain!!! but now!!! this little grape boy comes along and you suddenly start dating just because he has cats! what kinda bias is this?!’

he started ranting and whining and being a brat that you pinched his nose shut

‘oi, oikawa-san, are you jumping to conclusions again? first the hickey accident and now this?’

he made a whining noise for you to let go and rubbed his nose when you finally let go

you turned around to face the others and you sighed, massaging your temples

‘everyone, who spread this misunderstanding?’

no one pointed to anyone but their gazes settled on the thick eyebrow boy that you were sure wouldnt have ratted you out

a noise of surprise and betrayal escaped from you as mattsun quickly scrambled to get everyone to stop staring at him

‘MATTSUN-SAN! YOU-!’

you pointed at him and mattsun rushed forward to grab your hands before holding them close to his chest

‘y/n-chan, we just saw you when we were passing! it was makki who wanted to tell the others!’

the betrayal made iwa laugh but makki ran up to kick mattsun to the side

‘youre the one who committed the deed! i was merely suggesting it! it was iwaizumi who wanted to watch them first!’

‘IWA-SAN!’

you gasped at the normally chill third year and you didnt expect him to be the one who started it first

iwa panicked and held his hands out cautiously

‘y/n-chan, understand that i was just worried and i didnt want you to be outside by yourself after what happened, okay? i didnt know he was confessing to you’

you closed your eyes and pinched the bridge of your nose tightly

‘again! whoever and whatever happens in my love life is my business! mine! and only mine! you cannot control it and get angry at ME because i do want a boyfriend and i do want to experience dating bc i want to know how it feels to be loved like that! so i wont let a bunch of children stop me from having that!’

the third years shared a look before they they gave up and nodded in defeat

but oikawa was the most offended

‘Y/N-CHAN! I ASK YOU ON DATES ALL THE TIME AND I ALWAYS OFFER TO GIVE YOU THAT LOVE SO WHY CAN’T IT BE ME?! WHAT DOES THAT GRAPE HUMANOID HAVE THAT I DONT?!’

he whined and stomped his foot after crossing his arms and a pout on his face

you shook your head, not even bothering to answer that, and went to the others

‘dont be mad and be upset, okay? i refused him bc i have no time for a relationship when im too busy looking after my own boys. i really dont want to add another’

kindaichi and yahaba’s face scrunched as they rushed forward to hug you

‘we thought you would leave us y/n-chan!’

‘stay as ours forever, okay?’

you were so relieved that they werent as aggressive as the oldests and gave each player their own favorite hugs

but you stopped in front of kyo, not really knowing how to hug him since youve never exactly showed any type of affection like that

so you were just awkwardly standing there with raised arms but he patted your head, you smiling and leaning more to his touch

‘hm, kyo-san, ya finally warming up to me?’

you teased but he scoffed, gently headbutting you with his forehead against yours

‘now, everyone! dont misunderstand and know that for as long as i will be a manager, i wont be in a relationship bc my time as a manager is too crucial since i would probably have to look after you so you dont get yourself to jail. a boyfriend is adding more boys in to that list and i dont want that. you will be my boys forever and i wont be taken from you so please trust on me and stop being so overprotective bc i wont give them the affection or wishes they want!’

oikawa teared up and was about to go trample you but he was held back

‘no! i want a hug! i want a family hug! cmon, iwa-chan!’

practice went by quickly but you demanded them to do 10 diving laps in punishment for all the misunderstandings theyve created

but they gladly did it bc it meant that you wont be taken from them and you would be theirs forever and their cute manager is going to pay attention to them and them only

i got serious yandere vibes from this but its so heartwarming that theyre so overprotective and lowkey you got yourself a harem

after practice, they all wanted to walk home with you but you told them that shinsou’s house was the other direction

‘y/n-chan! you said you wouldn’t-’

you rolled your eyes

‘oikawa-san, just because i refused that confession doesnt mean i will stop earning money. i still have to catsit for his family and earn my money!’

they only agreed when kyo said that he was walking that way too but they were still weary and jealous bc he got to spend more time with you than them

as you were both walking, you looked up at him

‘kyo-san, what type of hug do you like?’

‘hah?’

he looked down at you bc we short with wide eyes and flushed cheeks

you smiled and looked forward, skipping slightly

‘everyone in the team has their own special hugs. i want everyone to have one bc you all are individually special to me so-’

but he stopped walking and pulled arm before he lifted you up, making you squeak and wrap your legs around his waist

thank god you were wearing your tracksuit and not your skirt

‘k-kyo-san?’

bruh is it obv that kyoken is one of my favorite seijoh boys like bls love on him

he didnt want you to see his flustered expression bc he still has a reputation to uphold, yanno?

so he tucked it in your neck and you softly smiled before playing with the baby hairs at the base of his neck

‘you like this kind then, kyo-san? kinda aggressive but perfectly suits you, yanno?’

he just grunted and you laughed

he wasnt about to tell you that he liked holding you on his arms bc you were so tiny and so you that holding you like this makes him feel like he was protecting you and feel good about himself bc he gets to be the one who shields you from the world

yuhhhhh get it kyo

‘so yahaba-san told me that you got kicked out of class bc you scared the teacher and kids?’

you questioned and he left his spot on your neck and pulled his face back so you could clearly see his face

it was red and possibly flustered but you just snickered

he still held you by his strong arms so you were able to move your small hands to his face where he flinched at first but relaxed when you touched his cheeks

your fingers gently pulled the sides of his lips and you tilted your head to the side

‘you,,, look really handsome when you smile, kyo-san’

you whispered and he was so surprised that his tough mask fell and was replaced by wide eyes and his eyebrows rose up, the intimidating look disappearing from his eyes

‘i-i do?’

you bit your lip bc this was so different from the aggressive kyo you knew and you didnt expect this type of innocence that he just showed you

maybe he wasnt so innocent from the fights and arguments he has started or been in

but he was so innocent to soft touches and compliments bc he wasnt exposed to it, only used to the ones that were said due to the aura he exuded or his looks

‘yep, you do. so keep smiling for me, kay? dont have to be around the others or all the time, but i,,, want to see it sometimes’

he blinked at you but quickly went back to your neck to hide the big smile that was threatening to come out

you felt his lips move and you laughed

‘noooo! kyo-san!!! i want to see your smilee!!! dont hide it!!!’

but it was cut short when a familiar shout was heard from the other side of the street that was near the school

it seemed that oikawa was worried about you walking alone with kyoken so he followed you both with the other third years

‘kyoken-chan! y/n-chan!’

he shouted in betrayal

you were about to get away from kyo’s hold but he tightened his grip and leaned in to place a kiss on your forehead, still staring straight at the captain

‘mine’

again, do you know what happened next?

oikawa screamed

this was actually pretty funny to write bc wowza oikawa is so oikawa and hes just so oikawa-like, yanno? and im still simping over kyoken and shinsou is my ult fave in bnha and i really love him like ugghhhh :’)

1K notes · View notes