#been working on it for 3 months if you wanted to know

[luveline]

jade!! can we please get something with junie’s mom and eddie? <3 missing them today

thank you for requesting! 1.3k

Eddie met you two weeks after you moved into the park, he’s pretty sure. Your baby ran out down the road because you didn’t know that all the trailers have the same bum lock, and she ended up on the Munson porch trying to get back home. 

He still remembers how she could barely talk. He had no idea how quickly babies explode with words. 

“Love you.” Junie smiles up at him, her waiting for a reciprocation all the more impressive. She’s just turned three, and Eddie would argue she doesn’t look it. She’s still a baby in his head. 

“I love you,” he says, leaning down to tap their noses together. 

“Can I have a hug?” 

Just a few short months ago she would’ve shouted “Hug!” and dove into his neck, or said nothing at all. He doesn’t see why that should change. 

“Babe, you don’t have to ask,” he says, wrapping his arms around her. 

She sighs in contentment, relaxing under his hand where he pulls it up and down her back. She’s getting bigger. Eddie can’t believe she’s already three. Where the hell does the time go? Days, weeks slip away. 

But at least they’re with you. God, he can’t believe they’re with you. 

“I’m feeling left out,” you say, laying on the floor of the trailer with your hands held over your chest. You’d been colouring with June a half hour ago, but she got bored fast and left you there. You’ve yet to get up. 

Eddie twists June in his lap so she can see you. He hugs her, and he presses his face to the top of her head, one eye open to see you and the other screwed closed. “You want us to come over?” he asks. 

You think about it. “No. I’m too tired to hug.” 

You’re always tired. Eddie knows that there’s a life he could give you one day where you don’t have to work. He’s not sure you’d let him, but he’d like to get promoted and move you out. He’d like to ask you properly to be his forever, to be permanent, and to live together as a family. Wayne’s telling him not to rush into things, but he really didn’t. You and Eddie were friends for half a year before he finally couldn’t take it anymore, and he doesn’t see that time as wasted, but he knows now that getting to kiss you is something he missed out on. 

Plus, being your boyfriend means he’s actually allowed to take care of you without dousing you in shame. You like being looked after. It’s why Eddie works a ten hour shift and comes straight home to you, so he can fold your laundry and you can get some rest. 

Every time you yawn, it’s a reminder for Eddie that he’s not making your life as easy as he could. (It’s not a healthy way to think about it. It’s not your fault or his that life is hard. But he thinks about it anyway.) 

Eddie gives June a kiss behind the ear and sets her down in the corner of the couch. He grins at her as he does, hoping for a detachment without tears, popping his head into his hand in mock nonchalance. “Babe, I’m gonna go hug your mom back to life. I’ll be right back. Cool?” 

“Cool.” 

Eddie pats her knee and she sits back to watch as he drops to the floor on his knees, crawling around crayons and gel pens and markers to your side. You laugh, flinching as his hand lands on your stomach, but he’s not there to tickle you. He holds your face in the other hand, really holds it, bending time. The mental snapshot he takes of you tired and lovely regardless can join an endless gallery. 

“You’re beautiful,” he says. 

“So are you.” 

“You want some help getting up?” he asks. 

You nod your affirmation. Eddie slides his hands under your arms, murmurs a too tender, “I got you,” as you sit up. He stands and pulls you with him, half drags your tired limbs to the couch where your girl is still sitting patiently. 

He puts you down. Kisses your cheek, throws a blanket across your knees. He picks Junie up to sit where she’d been in the corner and promptly settles with her on his thigh, the other arm open. 

“We’re napping?” Junie asks. 

“Would that be okay?” Eddie asks. “Mom’s tired.” 

“I’m not tired,” Junie says. 

“I know, baby, me neither. I was thinking we’d just lay here and hug mommy for a while, and then we’d have lunch.” 

“I don’t need a nap,” you say, though your eyes are heavy, darting to the empty place in his arms carved out especially for you. 

“Then just hug me,” Eddie whispers. Commanding, disbelieving, he knows you’ll be dozing in five minutes or less. All you need is a little light goading. 

You lay against his side. Junie wiggles to be on her front, chest to chest with Eddie as he sinks down. He kicks up his legs beside you, the three of you collapsing inward, his favourite girls in the world. 

There’s argument on if you can choose your family or not. Eddie doesn’t remember choosing you, just suddenly knowing you, and ever so slowly loving. He loves your face, your arms, the way you breathe. He loves how you turn into his chest and how you seem thrilled to be there, your hand coasting a loving line across him, fingers pressing into his stomach. It’s like you’re waving on his skin. He has no idea where you learned how to touch someone with that much love, but he leans down to kiss the skin just shy of your hairline so you know he feels it. 

Junie’s all little legs and sweetness as she yawns on his shoulder. “Mom, can I have some… some blanky?”

You pull it off your legs to cover hers. Eddie squares it up. Everyone covered, he lets his head tip back against the couch.

He’s not tired. He doesn’t think he’ll sleep. You fall asleep first in a slow series of exhales he knows well, that deepening, your fingers growing still against his t-shirt. 

Junie goes second. She squirms at first, not wanting to give in, but Eddie’s getting better at his dad-pats. He finds the space on her lower back, her off button ever since he’s known her, and he taps his hand against it until she’s breathing heavily against his neck. 

“Eddie?” she asks tiredly. 

“What, rockstar?” 

“Goodnight.” 

He scratches her back lightly. “Goodnight, sweetheart. Do you need me to take you to bed?” 

“No. We can sleep on you.” 

“Who should I sleep on?” he whispers. 

She shakes her head. Unhappy with his question, or maybe her nose is itchy. She falls asleep with her face pressed to his chest a few seconds later, leaving Eddie awake and unsure of what to do now. He trapped himself. 

He can’t find it in himself to mind, worried first about boredom, and then struck with a realisation. How could he ever be bored with you under his arm? 

He has time now to trace your nose, count your eyelashes, whatever he likes. 

“Love you,” he says, pressing his nose to your head. 

It takes a few seconds. “Love you,” you murmur. 

He rubs your arm until you’re sleeping again. It was selfish of him to wake you, but he’d wanted to hear it.

[amiableness]

Peonies ; part three

Pairing: Theo Nott x Fem!Reader

Summary: Theo and reader get even closer, and Mattheo is not a fan.

Word Count: 5280

Warnings: Unrequited love & Mattheo and Reader get into it. Let me know if there’s more!

A/N 💌 God, this took me forever to write. I struggled with writers block so badly on this, so if it’s not my best work, I apologize. As always, thank you to @moonpascal for reading, helping me with ideas, and just providing support and comfort. I love you!

SERIES MASTERLIST <3

“Y’good?” Theo looks up from the fire, his gaze shifting to Blaise, who’s now standing beside the couch. The flames had been the only company he’d had for hours. It was late—he couldn’t say exactly how late—just that the common room had emptied long ago, and he’d been sitting there long after everyone else had gone to bed.

“Yeah,” Theo sighs, his eyes drifting back to the flickering flames. “I’m good.” His words are hollow, almost as if he’s trying to convince himself. Blaise watches him for a moment, studying the tension in his posture, before quietly sitting down in the empty space beside him. Neither of them speaks, both of them watching as the flames dance.

Blaise leans back, glancing at Theo before breaking the silence. “You don’t look it,” he says, his voice calm but direct.

“Just thinking.” Theo just shrugs, his shoulders barely lifting, the gesture heavy with indifference. Blaise watches him for a moment, waiting, giving him the space to say something more—but the silence stretches.

“About her?”

Theo’s reaction is answer enough. He exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair with a tired frustration. For a brief moment, he pauses, elbows resting on his knees, his head cradled in his hands.

He drops his hands slowly, lifting his head to glance over at Blaise, his eyes tired, “When am I not?”

Blaise smiles slightly at his words. He’s known for years that Theo liked you—it was impossible to miss. From the moment Mattheo introduced you, Blaise vividly remembers the way Theo looked at you, as if his breath had been knocked from his lungs.

He was completely undone in a single glance.

And if that hadn’t been enough of a giveaway, the little things Theo did for you over the years certainly were—grabbing your favorite sweets from Hogsmeade when you couldn’t make the trip, offering help before you even had to ask, his gaze always seeking you out no matter how crowded the room. It was undeniable, even if Theo never spoke it aloud.

“Listen, mate,” Blaise begins, casting a quick glance at Theo, gauging his expression before continuing. “Do you think this is a good idea?”

“What?”

“Helping her get over Mattheo while you’re in love with her yourself.” Blaise's words hang in the air, and Theo's jaw tightens instinctively, a storm of emotions flickering across his face.

He wants to deny that he’s in love with you, but deep down, he knows it’s pointless. The truth is unquestionable; he’s been drawn to you for years, but these last few months have sent him falling even deeper.

How was he ever supposed to get over you when every moment only pulled him deeper? The way your fingers slipped so easily into his, like they belonged there, the soft curve of your lips as his thumb traced gentle circles over your skin. How sleeping over in your dorm had somehow become routine—he was sure Pansy was staying with Blaise on purpose to give him space with you. And those long walks around the castle, meant to distract you from Mattheo and Veronica, had turned into something else entirely—talks that lasted for hours, about everything and nothing, but always feeling like more.

It’s why he hasn’t left this couch in hours, struggling with the weight of his feelings. The realization hits him hard: he’s completely fallen for you, and he’s trapped. Because in your eyes, he’s just a friend, and that thought feels like a punch to the gut.

“She asked me to, and I can’t say no to her,” Theo replies, his voice laced with a mix of frustration and resignation. “I’ve never been able to.”

“You’re going to get yourself hurt if you’re not careful.” Blaise warns, his tone serious.

“We’ve long passed that point.” Theo sighs.

.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.

“Where in Hogsmeade do you get the flowers?” You glance over at Theo, sitting next to you on the common room couch, your question pulling him from his thoughts. Whatever everyone else was talking about had long since lost your interest, and if Theo were honest, he’d admit he wasn’t listening either. How could he be, with you so close? The heat of your body nearly pressed into his side, making it impossible for him to think straight.

“What?” He replies, but the pause lingers just a little too long. He's stalling, clearly hesitant to admit the truth—that the flowers aren't from Hogsmeade.

“The peonies.” You murmur, shifting until you're turned toward him, tucking yourself into his side. His arm rests casually on the back of the couch, and the sudden closeness feels intimate.

“What shop do you get them from?” You ask, your voice so soft it nearly melts him.

His mind goes blank the moment he sees you nestled against his side, looking up at him through your lashes. The way your gaze lingers on him, so close, steals any coherent thought he might have had.

“Why?” He asks, feigning casualness.

“I wanted to get some for myself,” you shrug, “I’ve never seen peonies so beautiful before.”

“No,” Theo responds so quickly that it catches you off guard, an amused eyebrow arching as you glance at him in surprise. The truth is, he hates the idea of you picking your own flowers—he wants to be the one to give them to you. “I’ll just take you with me next time I go, yeah?”

“Yeah.” You nod in agreement, a soft smile tugging at your lips, clearly content with his answer. As you turn back to the conversation, that smile still lingers, and Theo can’t help but admire you for a moment, a quiet satisfaction settling in knowing he was the reason for it. But when he glances back up, his gaze meets Mattheo’s.

Mattheo’s brow furrows as he shifts his gaze between you and Theo, a flicker of suspicion darkening his eyes. Without thinking, Theo drops his arm, casually wrapping it around your shoulders in a possessive gesture—one he knows he shouldn’t make. Your body instinctively leans into him, sending a warmth coursing through Theo; it feels so natural to have you this close. Mattheo’s expression tightens just slightly, his gaze lingering a heartbeat too long before he finally looks away.

You barely have time to enjoy being cuddled into Theo’s side, before Pansy turns to you. Both of you exchange annoyed glances at something particularly ridiculous Draco just said, rolling your eyes in unison. But then her expression shifts from irritation to excited disbelief as she catches sight of you nestled against Theo, his fingers absentmindedly tracing gentle patterns on your skin.

Pansy can’t help but raise her eyebrows, a grin spreading across her face as she processes the scene before her. Before you can send her a warning look, she’s on her feet, leaving Blaise protesting. “It’s time for bed,” She declares, pointedly looking at you. “And you’re coming with me.”

You sigh, knowing all too well that Pansy would make a scene if you didn’t follow her lead. Reluctantly, you lean forward, easing yourself out of Theo’s grasp, but before fully pulling away, you pause. Gently, you press a soft kiss to his cheek, your lips lingering for just a moment longer than usual. “Goodnight,” you murmur quietly, the words almost lost in the space between you before you finally stand.

Pansy, giddy and practically buzzing with excitement, grabs your hand and tugs you toward your dorm, both of you tossing casual goodnights over your shoulders to the boys. Blaise grumbles loudly about not getting a proper goodnight from his girlfriend, while Theo remains silent, a soft pink flush creeping across his cheeks as he watches you walk away, still feeling the warmth of your kiss lingering on his skin.

You catch the sound of the boys teasing Theo the moment they assume you're out of earshot, their playful jabs and laughter unmistakable as they seize the opportunity to rib him. Even from a distance, you can imagine Theo's flushed face as he tries—and likely fails—to brush off their teasing.

“Is there something going on between the two of you?” Pansy blurts out the second you step into your dorm, her excitement practically radiating off her as she nearly slams the door shut behind her.

“No, why would you even think that?” You ask, genuinely surprised, but Pansy just stares at you incredulously, like you’ve completely missed the obvious.

“You’re kidding, right?” She says, crossing her arms. “The sleepovers? The hand holding? The fact that you two are practically inseparable?”

“He’s helping me get over Mattheo.” You insist, feeling the need to defend yourself, though even as the words leave your mouth, they sound weaker than you’d like.

After a couple of months of coming to terms with the reality of Mattheo and Veronica, you’ve found that the idea of them together doesn’t sting nearly as much as it once did. Sure, you still dislike seeing them together, but the ache has softened into something more manageable. If anything, what bothers you most now is your lingering dislike for Veronica herself; there’s just something about her that grates on your nerves.

“Babes,” Pansy says, her tone full of disbelief, like you’re the only one who can’t see what’s right in front of you.

“You know I’d tell you if there was something going on.” You say, but even as the words leave your mouth, there's a flicker of doubt in your chest, as if the truth isn’t quite as simple as you want it to be.

“I guess so,” Pansy replies, still eyeing you with clear skepticism, her gaze sharp as if she's waiting for you to admit what you’re not even sure of yet. “Just so you know, I think he’d give you everything if you let him.”

.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.

Your conversation with Pansy hasn’t left your mind in days, and quite honestly, it’s driving you a little mad.

I think he’d give you everything if you let him.

You can’t quite tell if Pansy is subtly suggesting that Theo has feelings for you or if she simply likes the idea of the two of you together. Either way, her words have been playing on a loop in your mind, so much so that you’ve started to feel nervous around him.

Every time he looks at you or takes your hand, your thoughts scatter, leaving you utterly flustered. You’re trying your best to hide just how distracted you are around him, but Theo’s definitely noticed. This morning, when he leaned in to whisper something, your mind went completely blank, every thought consumed by him.

Him, him, him.

The warmth of his voice, the way his hand rested on the small of your back as he spoke—it was all you could focus on. The way his attention never wavered, how it was solely on you, made your heart race like it was the only thing that mattered in the room.

And when you failed to respond, he paused, concern flashing in his eyes as his brows furrowed. “You okay?” His voice was soft, genuine, and somehow that only made things worse. You had nodded quickly, plastering on what you hoped was a convincing smile, but inside, your mind was a chaotic mess.

Had he always looked at you that way? Like he was genuinely checking in, always quietly noticing when something was off? It made you wonder if you’d been blind to it all this time or if this was something new, something you’d only just started paying attention to.

You’re so lost in your thoughts that you barely register when Mattheo bumps into you in the hallway. You cast a quick glance his way, ready to keep walking, but he reaches out, gently grabbing your wrist and pulling you back.

“Wait, hold on,” Mattheo says, his grip on your wrist warm yet insistent, his voice edged with irritation and disbelief. “Were you really just going to walk past me?”

“I’m not doing this right now.” You huff, pulling your wrist free from his grasp, trying to mask the frustration that’s been simmering for weeks.

“Doing what?” His voice hardens, his eyes narrowing in confusion.

“Talking to you.” You snap.

“Why the hell not?”

You feel a surge of irritation, meeting his gaze with a fiery glare. “Because you’ve ignored me for the past few months, Mattheo. Why should I care to talk to you now?”

“That’s not fair,” he mutters, his jaw tightening as frustration creeps into his tone. “It’s not that I’ve been ignoring you.”

“The last time we properly talked,” you snap, “you asked for your jersey back—the one you gave me.” The memory of it still stings, and you can’t help but throw it back at him. “So yeah, Mattheo, it’s more than fair.”

He frowns, clearly caught off guard by your words, his eyes flickering with something between guilt and disbelief. “Listen, I know we haven’t hung out much—”

“Are you being serious?” You scoff, folding your arms as if that could somehow shield you from the frustration bubbling inside. “You’ve practically disappeared, Mattheo. You’ve been too busy with your girlfriend to even notice anyone else.” You want to roll your eyes at the way he looks genuinely confused, like he's completely unaware of how he's hurt you.

He opens his mouth to argue, but you don’t give him the chance.

“You don’t get to be annoyed with me for not talking to you,” you bite out, your voice sharp with frustration. “Not when you’ve been doing the exact same thing for months.”

“I’m sorry, okay? I know I’ve spent a lot of time with her, but it’s the same for you and Theo.” His voice shifts, annoyance replacing the guilt. “You’re always with him. Holding hands, spending the night together-what the fuck is that by the way?”

You take a step back, the heat of his words catching you off guard. “We’re just friends, Mattheo. We’re allowed to hang out.” You keep your voice steady, even as your heart races at the accusation in his gaze.

“Friends? Is that really what you’re calling it?” He crosses his arms, the tension in his posture unmistakable. “Because it looks like more to me. You’re always with him.”

You shake your head, a bitter laugh escaping your lips. “And whose fault is that? You pushed me away, Mattheo. What did you expect me to do—just wait around?”

“I just don’t get why you’re always with him. You and Theo—" He cuts himself off, the words hanging between you.

You raise an eyebrow, challenging him to finish, but he stays silent, “Theo and I what?”

He takes a moment, his gaze hardening slightly, as if weighing his words carefully. “You know what? Forget it,” he says, shrugging dismissively. “I really don’t care what you two are up to.”

You scoff, crossing your arms tightly and shooting him a piercing glare. “Oh, come off it, Mattheo. You clearly care. And honestly, what does it matter to you if I spend time with Theo? You’ve been wrapped up in Veronica this whole time.” Your voice drips with sarcasm, each word punctuating the frustration bubbling inside you.

He falters, his frustration twisting into something more vulnerable for a split second before he shakes his head. Hearing her name seems to snap something in him. His jaw clenches, and he takes a slow, measured breath before looking back at you, his expression hardening.

Mattheo meets your eyes, his expression unreadable for a moment before he rolls his shoulders, dismissing the tension. “Honestly? I’ve got enough on my plate with Veronica. I don’t need to waste my time worrying about you and Theo.”

The words sting more than you expect, and for a moment, the air between you thickens with unspoken feelings and unresolved tension. “Right,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady. “Because you’re so busy.”

He turns away, shaking his head slightly, as if trying to shake off the conversation. “Whatever, just... do what you want.”

You watch as he steps back, the distance between you suddenly feeling too large, and you can’t help but wonder how badly damaged your friendship is—or what’s left of it. You’re so angry that you want to cry, and you’re grateful that the halls are empty as Mattheo walks away, leaving you to stand alone in the deserted corridor.

.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.

You had promised Pansy you’d be ready in just a few minutes, but half an hour had slipped by while she was in the bathroom and you remained sat on your bed, lost in thought. Your gaze drifted to the pictures of you and Mattheo that adorned the wall, memories captured in each frame. The urge to rip them down clawed at you, but the thought of erasing those moments felt unbearable. Each smile, each laugh shared now felt tainted, leaving you uncertain of what to do with them.

The argument with Mattheo this morning replayed in your mind like a stubborn song on repeat, and the idea of facing him at the party made your stomach twist with anxiety. In all the years of your friendship, you’d rarely fought—occasional bickering was one thing, but this felt different, more profound. The sharpness of his words lingered, and a nagging fear took root: what if this was it? What if this marked the beginning of the end for a friendship you considered so strong?

“You said you’d be ready.” Pansy sighs, casting a disapproving look at the sweatpants you’re wearing. You hadn’t even heard her leave the bathroom.

You glance way from the pictures and send her a half shrug, “I don’t think I’m going to go.”

“Oh, you absolutely are,” Pansy’s heels click against the floor as she heads to her trunk. “If you stay here you won’t stop thinking about earlier.”

You don’t bother responding—you know she’s right. Pansy continues rummaging through her trunk, the sound of fabric rustling filling the room. After a moment, she straightens up, triumphantly holding a sleek dress in hand, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

She shoves the black, silky dress into your hands before pointing at the bathroom, “Go. I’ll find heels for you to wear.”

There’s no point in arguing. Instead, you make your way to the bathroom a slip into the dress, feeling the smooth fabric wrap around you. For a moment, you admire the way it hugs you in the mirror, the cut flattering your body type well. Stepping out, you give a little spin for Pansy, her approving smirk already forming before you even say a word.

“Merlin, that dress was made for you.” Pansy grins as she steps forward, handing you a pair of heels. You take them, slipping them on effortlessly, the added height giving you an extra boost of confidence. Before you can even react, she’s already fussing with your hair, smoothing out stray strands and perfecting every detail. With a quick swipe of lip gloss after making you pout, she steps back, giving you an approving nod.

You can officially call yourself ready.

Pansy laces her fingers through yours as you walk down to the common room. As soon as you step out of your dorm, the noise rushes in, chaotic and overwhelming. You hesitate for a moment, knowing Mattheo is probably at the center of it all. The last thing you want is to run into him after earlier, especially with Veronica around.

You’re relieved when you reach the bottom of the stairs that Pansy has already spotted Blaise, which means the rest of the boys are near. And you’re proven right the moment Pansy pulls you through the crowd. Your eyes land on the boys—everyone except Mattheo—gathered together in their usual spot, laughing and talking like they own the room.

Before you even realize it, your eyes instinctively search for Theo, and it doesn't take long to spot him. He’s leaning casually against the wall with a drink in his hand.

Your breath hitches as your gaze lands on the dark shirt rolled up to his elbows, highlighting his toned arms. The veins tracing down to his hands catch your eye, drawing you in deeper. And those hands—Gods, those hands. An unexpected longing surges within you, a sudden urge to lean into his side, to feel him wrap his arm around your waist, resting his hand on the small of your back, just as he often did.

Ever since his match a couple of weeks ago, it’s as if something has switched within you. No matter how hard you try, your eyes are irresistibly drawn to Theo Nott. It doesn’t help that he’s so attentive, always making sure to check in with you and holding your hand whenever you needed it. In the past couple of months, he has become the one person you feel safest with, the one you can share your thoughts and worries with without hesitation.

Your stomach drops the moment you notice he isn’t alone. A bitter taste creeps into your mouth as you take in the girl standing in front of him—she’s stunning, effortlessly leaning into his space, clearly flirting. A few months ago, you wouldn’t have cared, wouldn’t have given her a second thought, but now it’s all you can focus on. The way she laughs, the way she seems to command his attention—it stings in a way you’re not prepared for.

Without a second thought, you drop Pansy’s hand and head straight toward them. The closer you get, the more her light, flirtatious giggle grates on your nerves, each sound making your stomach twist with irritation. Every step tightens the knot of annoyance building inside you, your focus narrowing in on them, unable to shake the discomfort settling in your chest.

When you draw close to Theo, you reach out and lightly touch his forearm, your fingers trailing down his skin before intertwining with his. It’s a blend of flirtation and possessiveness, and you watch with satisfaction as the girl’s gaze follows your touch.

Theo glances at you, instantly recognizing your touch, but his breath catches in his throat as his eyes travel down your body. Taking in the way the tight black dress hugs your curves, he feels as if his breath has been caught in his throat. The way you’re staring at the girl—your expression unmistakably conveying ‘back off’—stirs something deep within him. He fights the urge to pull you close, his hand finding the back of your neck as he kisses you fiercely, wanting to make it clear that him flirting with another girl is not a possibility.

But he can’t do that.

“I’m so sorry to interrupt—” though you’re not at all. “But I’ve been looking all over for you.” Your gaze flickers up to meet Theo’s, and you catch him watching you with an amused, quirked brow, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his lips.

“Oh,” she says, straightening up, her expression shifting from surprise to something more calculating. “So the rumors are true? You two are together?”

“If you’ve heard we’re together, then why even bother flirting with him?” You challenge, your voice steady and laced with confidence.

Her lips part in disbelief, and her eyes flicker between you and Theo, who stands beside you, bringing his cup to his lips to stifle the amused smile threatening to break free. The corners of his mouth twitch, betraying his enjoyment, while you stand firm, radiating confidence in the face of her surprise.

She scoffs and turns to leave, causing your confidence to begin slipping away.

Now that it’s just you and Theo, the reality of what you’ve done is sinking in. There’s no way your little display of jealousy didn’t just fuel the rumors that the two of you are together. But not only that, you didn’t deny it when she asked. You keep your eyes on the girl walking away and sigh when you realize she’s gone straight to her friends, no doubt to tell them about how you acted.

“You’re going to have the whole school thinking we’re together.” His voice is soft but teasing, a hint of amusement lacing his words as he holds you close.

He releases your hand, sliding his arm around your waist as he pulls you into him. The move is bolder than usual, more daring than the subtle touches you’re used to from him, and you can't help but blame it on the drink he's holding. His grip is firm, warm, and it sends a rush of heat through you that lingers far longer than it should.

“I’m sorry,” you wince, biting your lip as you glance up at Theo. “I probably just ruined your chances of finding a hookup for tonight.”

In all honesty, you feel more relieved than sorry.

His brow arches slightly, a hint of amusement glinting in his eyes. “Who said I was looking for a hookup?”

You scoff lightly, shifting in his hold, though his arm remains firmly wrapped around your waist. “You do remember we’ve been friends for years, right?” Your voice is teasing as you smile up at him.

Theo shrugs like he’s hardly bothered, his expression softening just a bit. “I haven’t hooked up with anyone in months,” he admits quietly, his voice sincere. The closeness between you feels more intimate than ever, the warmth of his body against yours making your heart race.

Suddenly your mind is jumping to the fact that the both of you have been hanging out for months. But there’s no way you’re going to point that out, so instead you smile at him softly before pulling away.

“I’m gonna get a drink. Do you want to come with me?” You extend your hand, and without hesitation, Theo clasps it in his, his grip warm and comforting.

It didn’t take long for you to feel tipsy; with the number of drinks you’ve had, it’s hardly a shock. Theo wasn’t drinking as much as you were, and he certainly wasn’t going to admit it was because he wanted to keep an eye on you.

Typically, he observed from a distance, leaning against the wall with a drink in hand, as you danced and laughed with Pansy and occasionally Enzo. But he realized he liked being the one that was next to you the whole night, and he’d enjoy the parties way more if this is how they all are.

You let out a sigh, and Theo’s brows knit together in curiosity as he looks down at you. You glance into your cup with a hint of disdain, contemplating whether to refill it. But just as you make a move to get more, Theo gently reaches out, stopping you in your tracks.

Earlier you had convinced him to dance with you, and it took plenty of ‘please’s’ on your end to persuade him. Really, the first time you said it had been enough, but he just liked how pretty it sounded falling from your lips. And once he grew tired of dancing, Enzo stepped in while Theo kept an eye on you as he chatted with Draco and Blaise. If he was tired, he couldn’t imagine how you were feeling.

You offer him a grateful smile as you settle back against the wall. Unfortunately, all the couches and chairs are taken, so you find yourself keeping watch, hoping a spot will open up while you take a breather from dancing with Pansy.

“That didn’t take you long.” You comment as someone leans against the wall next to you, but you’re surprised when you see Mattheo in Theo’s place. The sight of him immediately sobers you, and you find yourself standing up straighter, instinctively avoiding his gaze.

“I lied to you earlier,” He exhales slowly, and the tone of his voice reveals that he’s been drinking. He’s not drunk, but you can tell that the alcohol has certainly taken effect, adding a warm haze to his words. “I do care. I care a whole fucking lot actually.”

“No, I’m not doing this with you.” You cross your arms, glancing over at him and Mattheo shifts so he’s fully facing you with one shoulder against the wall.

“Do you know how hard it is to see you with Theo?” He asks, and you scoff, deliberately turning your gaze away from him. “You’ve got no idea how much it hurts.”

“I cannot believe you just said that to me.” Your head snaps to the side, disbelief flooding your voice as you look at Mattheo. “You have a girlfriend.”

“I know,” he replies, frustration creeping into his tone. “But it doesn’t change how I feel about you.”

“How you feel about me?” Your voice rises, the sarcasm unmistakable.

“I’ve liked you. For years.”

You let out a laugh, disbelief and shock coursing through you. “That’s not funny.”

His expression softens, and he steps closer, desperation flickering in his eyes. “I’m not joking. It’s the truth.”

“Really? You think this is how you show someone you care?” You shake your head, trying to grasp the absurdity of the moment. “You’re with someone else, Mattheo. You can’t just decide to have feelings for me while you’re with her.”

“But I didn’t just decide that while I was with her,” he insists, his voice low and earnest. “I’ve always had them. I tried to push it down, to ignore it, but I can’t anymore. Seeing you with Theo…” His voice trails off, frustration giving way to vulnerability.

“I don’t know what you want me to say.” You sigh, trying to swallow down all your emotions. This is the last place you want to be having this conversation. In fact, you don’t even want to be having it at all.

“I want you to say you have feelings for me too.” Mattheo says and you stare at him in surprise.

Theo stood frozen a short distance away, gripping the fresh drink he had just gotten for you. He knew he shouldn’t be listening in, but when Mattheo confessed his feelings for you, he felt compelled to stay put, unable to move. A knot of dread twisted in his stomach as he braces himself for your response. He knew better than anyone about your feelings for Mattheo, and the possibility that they hadn’t completely faded hadn’t escaped him.

It’s over before he even gets a chance. Your feelings for Mattheo have always been there, and maybe it was delusional of him to think that you getting jealous over him and flirting all night meant he had a chance. But he really believed that your feelings might have changed.

“I can’t say that.” You nearly whisper, and Mattheo looks like you’ve just slapped him.

“Because you have feelings for him?”

His question hangs there, thick with emotion, and you can see the way his eyes search yours for an answer.

Theo doesn’t get to hear your answer because, as you move to get past Mattheo, you catch sight of him, and your face crumples with the weight of emotion, the glimmer of unshed tears evident in your eyes. A wave of concern washes over him, and before he can fully process it, you push past Mattheo, urgency guiding you forward. When you reach Theo, you wrap your arms around his neck, burying your face against his shoulder, and he instinctively pulls you closer, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“Can we leave? I don’t want to be here anymore.” Theo agrees without any hesitation. He glances up at Mattheo, who scoffs in clear irritation, their eyes locking for a brief, tense moment. Theo gently grasps your hand before guiding you through the crowd and to your dorm.

please please please consider reblogging or leaving a comment! it keeps me motivated to write, and reblogs help to spread my work 🤍

[ayyy-pee]

Request cowboy Suguru asking reader out but she doesn’t date cowboys at all. She hates them but then she gives him a chance

hi lovely!!! thank you so much for this request! IT WAS FUNNNN!!! i'm really loving the cowboy au lately so i was SUPER excited to get something out! it's fluffy and sweet and Suguru is so down bad for reader! hope you like it! <3

Discord 18+ - Twitter - JJK Masterlist

Pairing: Sheriff!Suguru Geto x Bartender!Female Reader

Genre: Western/Cowboy AU

Story Warning: fluff and trust issues and Suguru being down bad for reader. what else is new?

Artist Credit: @aransmind

“You again? I already told you no the last time you brought your tail in here.”

You wipe along the countertop of the saloon bar, trying to clean up the mess left behind by beers and shots of whiskey purchased throughout the day. It’s been a long one, and you’re ready to lock up and head home. It’s just a matter of getting this place cleaned up. This bartop is old, the stains still lingering and apparently unremovable. Just like this damn patron who just can’t seem to leave you the hell alone. 

Just like this damn patron who has slowly been worming his way under your skin, despite your best efforts to resist.

Pink lips pout from the other side of the bar, and all you can do is chuckle, shaking your head.

“I haven’t even said a thing!” A man whines. You place his normal drink in front of him, smiling when he dramatically sighs contently after he takes a sip.

You’re back to cleaning up, arranging your glasses. “I already know what’s comin’. Please, no begging today. ”

A soft laugh falls from the man’s lips as he speaks. “I ain’t a beggin’ man, ___. You gotta know that, but you make a beggar outta me every time I come in here and see ya.”

Another chuckle bubbles from your chest as you stare down the man leaning his elbow on your squeaky clean counter now. You smack his arm off with your towel, quickly swiping at the spot left behind. “You’ll just have to keep beggin’ because I said nooooo,” you sing. “And that’s not changin’.”

“But–”

“Sheriff Suguru,” you sigh, no actual annoyance in your tone, because how could you be annoyed when he stares up at you with those pretty eyes of his you’ve gotten used to seeing every day for the last few months? “You’ve been comin’ in here for how long now? Askin’ me the same question and gettin’ the same answer. Don’t you ever know when to quit?”

At this, the Sheriff takes his hat off, placing it on the bar before shooting you what you assume he thinks is his most charming smile. It doesn’t work.

“Now, Miss ___, do you think if I knew when to give up, I woulda made Sheriff?” He combs his fingers through his silky long hair that somehow never seems to hold even a speck of dirt in it, despite you both residing in the dry and dusty desert.

He’s as pretty as the first day he came in.

------

The day Suguru became Sheriff, his buddies brought him into your saloon to celebrate, ordering a shot for damn near everybody in town. Who wouldn’t want to come celebrate the new Sheriff in town? Anybody who was anybody would be there! You were just lucky that the party was happening in your bar, excited to make a good chunk of change for the night.

Did you really want to spend your entire night catering to a bunch of cowboys? Absolutely not. You’re not particularly a fan, but again, the money will make it worth it.

But it’s been almost an hour past close, you’re standing behind the bartop as the deputies are still rowdy and drinking. You don’t mind much, but you are tired and ready to go. Even the idea of making more money doesn’t feel appealing when you’re ready to just crawl into your bath and try not to fall asleep.

“Aren’t you pretty?” Suguru had slurred from across the bar, in the same seat that would soon become his regular spot. “When do ya get off work, Miss…?”

You give him your name, polite but to the point. “And soon as y’all get outta my bar,” you quip, which makes Suguru laugh.

He leans forward, close enough so you could hear him over the noise of his deputies drunkenly singing behind him. “I’ll tell ‘em all to go home right now.”

It’s an offer that’s tempting, but you don’t want to rain on their parade no matter how tired you are. The money will be good, and you need it. So you roll your eyes at playfully, as you ask teasingly. “Won’t you be lonely without all your friends?”

Your cheekiness only makes Suguru grin wider. “Yeah,” he answers quickly. “Probably will be.” He rubs his chin, closing his eyes and pulling his brows together as if he’s in deep thought. “But maybeeee,” he drags the word out. “I won’t be so lonely if a pretty lady like yourself comes home with me.”

You mimic Suguru’s earlier position, closing your eyes and rubbing your chin as you think really hard about his offer. You let the suggestion hang between the two of you, and Suguru takes this time to let his eyes take you in.

Beautiful. Smart, he thinks. Quick on your feet. Makes one hell of a drink, one of the best he’s had. Yeah, he wants you. This town is full of pretty women. He’s not without options. And while he’s already had his fill of some of them, it’s you who’s caught his eye in a way they haven’t. 

He waits for you to give him an answer. But you don’t. Not by any fault of your own. It’s because one of his deputies – Satoru – is now leaning over the bar and giving you his best flirtatious smile now that he’s caught your attention. It’s left Suguru sitting on the sidelines to watch your interaction. It looks like Satoru is getting more out of you than he is.

You’re smiling, laughing as you pour him some water, because he doesn’t drink. But minutes later, you’re still chatting with his colleague, leaned over and a little too close for his liking. You’re supposed to be talking to him, entertaining him. He’s the Sheriff now! Wayyyy more important than some damn bottom of the barrel deputy!

Okay, that’s the liquor talking. But still. He wants to be who you’re focused on.

“Hey, Miss!” Suguru calls, grabbing your attention for a brief moment. “Just waitin’ for your answer.”

He sees the way you seem to barely remember that you were speaking with him before, nodding before you lean your elbow on the bar and yell, loud enough for all to hear, “NO.”

And it…makes Suguru’s heart beat faster, makes his lips curl in a smile that he has to hide behind his whiskey glass. 

Yeah, he likes you. He thinks he’ll come by more often.

------

Months later, and this man hasn’t let up. He’s always been friendly, too friendly in your opinion. That long hair, those pretty eyes and even prettier smile are deadlier than the gun hanging in his holster. He’s a smooth talker, which you’re sure helped him move up the ranks of the town deputies. But you’ve always been resistant to his charms. Or at least, tried to be. 

Sheriff Suguru is extremely attractive, pleasant to talk to when he isn’t trying to ask you on a date, and once again, too friendly. Especially with the women in town. From what you’ve heard, he’s been leaving a trail of broken hearts in his wake since he arrived. Which is exactly why you’re not interested in going out on a date with him, no matter how charming and funny you find him to be. You’ll be damned if you end up being another name on his long list of conquests. 

Besides, you’ve dated a few cowboys in your day and they’re all the same; big egos, big mouths and big fuckin’ pains in your ass. And most times not a big enough dick to back all that up. Every one of those relationships were a waste of your time and you’re not interested in wasting any more of it on yet another cowboy.

“Just one date,” Suguru begins his regular spiel. "Lemme take you out somewhere. Promise it’ll be worth it,” Suguru tells you, and you scoff. He sounds just like the rest of them.

“Doubt it.”

“You won’t let me take you out, just one time, Miss?”

“Sheriff, I’ve seen ya ‘round town. You take a lot of ladies out,” you note, watching his eyes widen just slightly. “Why not just ask one of them?”

And it’s true. You’ve seen Suguru in the town square chatting it up with any woman whose direction he looks in. He’s the most eligible bachelor in the town. Kind, handsome, a damn good shot and a damn good Sheriff. Any woman worth their salt wants him. If he were in any other occupation, you’d maybe make an exception. But he’s not. He’s a cowboy.

You don’t date cowboys.

At this Suguru stands, holding a hand up, which he waves a little frantically between you. “Now hold on! I run into a lotta ladies in town. Don’t mean I’m takin’ ‘em out anywhere.” His face is serious now, lips pressed together in a hard line. “I know I got quite a reputation, Miss ___. I ain’t stupid,” Suguru mutters. “I hear the ramblins ‘round town. Not all of ‘em are a lie,” he says honestly. And you’re just about to speak up when he cuts you off. “But, not all of ‘em are true, either.”

You swipe at a spot on the bar, the same stain you know will never come out of the wood. You don’t look at him, you don’t want to look at him. Because you hear sincerity in his tone, and that scares you. It shatters this image you’ve built up of him in your mind of this playboy Sheriff who’s good for nothing but a quick fuck at the brothel. Makes you want to give in because maybe he really isn’t like all the rest.

You don’t know any other cowboys who would be as committed as he seems to be to trying to woo you. Day after day, weeks after weeks, months after months of rejection from you. And yet, he still shows up. He still asks. He still tells you that he’ll treat you right. That he’ll take care of you. Is it really that crazy to think that he’s different?

Giggles coming from the other side of the saloon burst the little bubble you’re in with the Sheriff and your eyes dart to the source. A table of four women, sitting in the back of the saloon and whispering what you’re sure are filthy things as they stare at the back of Suguru’s head. He doesn’t look, eyes glued to you and the way you’re still moving that damned towel over that godforsaken stain that you and him both know ain’t goin’ anywhere.

“I don’t date cowboys, Sheriff,” you mutter weakly. “They don’t take nothin’ serious, and I don’t got time for the heartache.”

Suguru sighs, taking his seat again. “Can’t you see I’m serious about you? I’ve been comin’ here for so long tryin’ to show you I ain’t playin’ any games here, Miss ___.”

‘That don’t change my answer.’ Is what you want to say, but the words get caught in your throat.

You both let the silence hang between you. He lets you get back to work, slowly sipping his drink while you finish tending the bar. But his eyes are still on you, watching how you began gently nibbling on your lip ever since Suguru told you again that he’s really not joking when it comes to you, like you’re lost in thought over his words. 

“Pardon me, Sheriff?” A soft voice calls to Suguru at the bar.

Your back is turned, but your ears perk up when you hear the Sheriff greet someone back, a woman. The conversation is short, her asking him questions that you can’t really hear. There are laughs from her, chuckles from Suguru and then of course, the lady asking him what he’s doing later tonight. The implication is clear, and you roll your eyes, because you almost gave into yet another cowboy and set yourself up for heartbreak.

But Suguru groans, awkwardly running his fingers through his locks as he tells the woman that he’s got plans with someone he’s been waiting to see for a long time.

“Family?” She asks, the disappointment clear in her voice. He laughs, shaking his head.

“No. Well, hope I’m not bein’ too forward, but maybe one day. If she ever lets me in, I think I’ll be able to convince her.”

“Oh!” The woman squeaks, not expecting that. And neither were you, because you freeze halfway through putting a bottle of whiskey back on the shelves behind the bar.

“Special lady then,” the woman mumbles.

“Very.”

She dismisses herself shortly after. And as the noise dies down, and the saloon empties out, you hear the telltale signs of the Sheriff getting ready to go, always the last customer. He sits his hat back atop his head, fishing out his money and leaving it on the bar for you. You meet his gaze, and he gives you a smile. Even with yet another rejection under his belt, he doesn’t seem angry or bitter. There’s no resentment behind his eyes. He harbors no negative feelings towards you. His smile is genuine and kind, like it’s always been every time you shut him down.

“Have a good night, Miss ___. Get home safe,” he says, spinning on his heel.

The quiet jingling of his boot spurs fills the air, and to you, at least in your head, it almost symbolizes alarm bells ringing. And you call out to him, grabbing his attention.

“Sheriff,” you place the towel down, coming out from behind the bar to stand face to face with the man you’ve only ever stood at least four feet away from. This close distance feels more intimate than any other time you’ve been around each other, and your heart pounds loudly in your ears as you ask, “Mind walkin’ me home?”

[k-tarotz]

PAC - What good things will come in October?

Disclaimer; this is a general reading for everyone, please only take what resonates and leave what doesn't!~ from left to right 1-3. The pictures and dividers aren't from us, credits to the rightful owners.

Paid readings | masterlist | ko-fi | spells

Pile 1:

First of all what I see is that some of you don't see immediate results in certain areas which can be a bit frustrating, especially if you are rather impatient but this could be a chance to step back and instead of trying to focus on finances or your goals - you should focus on yourself, your health, your mental health and the things you actually want to do to enjoy yourself whether that's taking a day off and spend it with your friends/family or just to be alone and do whatever gets your mind of like playing games or watching that movie/series that you really want to watch but didn't had enough time yet. Even if things may feel slow or even uncertain, things will turn out fine for you. You will find your peace within other things, it's time for you to relax and do a bit self care~

Pile 2:

October will actually be a really good month for you, you might even feel energetic and more confident - but maybe that's also because you are a fall person. This month will bring opportunities in your life - for some of you this is related to work or accomplishing a goal, for some others this is about attracting someone new into your life - that can be platonic but it could turn romantic as well. Another good thing coming is healing, if there has been any lingering hurt or emotional pain, October will be the time when you finally process and release it. It's about facing those difficulties but in a way it leads to growth and clarity. Once you do you will feel lighter and more at peace, ready to move on, without that weight on your shoulders.

Pile 3:

First what comes through for you is that you will have more courage in this month, you will start standing your ground instead of letting other people cross your boundaries or take advantage of you. Therefore people will finally stop taking you for granted and start appreciating you more, which will be something you enjoy. You will handle things your way so lots of you will definitely feel more independent especially in your actions. Now there may still be some tension or disagreements but the good thing is; you will know exactly how to handle them. You won't get pulled into unnecessary drama or conflicts. Let go of what isn't worth your energy. You'll be successfully able to avoid unnecessary stress this month.

[lilacgaby]

˗ˏˋmy first, my last, my everything ୭ৎ ིྀ

pairing: exmafia!bakugo x reader

summary: katsuki left that life behind for you. but when the life you two built from scratch together was threatened, what else could he do but go back?

tags: fem!reader, wife!reader, mafia mentions, violence, angst to comfort, cursing, blood, pet names, no quirk au!, threats, guns, mention of death, clingy katsuki

(a/n: there's a tornado and like hurricane outside i should be preparing but ill write insteadd. anyways this is just the first part of.. tbh idk how many parts, probably 2 or 3 total lmk if anyone wants to be taggedd)

wc:~2.5k

katsuki had been around blood for most of his life.

whether it was his own, or a bastard who he had to handle for his own, he'd grew comfortable to it. almost intolerant to it.

but seeing you, freaking out with a bullet in your shoulder, your blood spilled over the floors he'd taken you to pick out?

it was something he never prepared for.

glass was shattered, he ran to your side immediately. the hot flash of pain in your arm unbearable, even more so as he pressed down on it, his shirt now ripped as he had to keep the blood from pouring.

your wails echoed throughout the shop, the one you decorated and planned for months together.

he needed to call someone, anyone. you were bleeding and he needed the kit-- but it was too far.

he was failing you. you were crying and he was failing you.

he was shaking, "babe? fuck. stay awake." everything around him was mocking him. his phone being too far, everything was just out of his grasp. out of his control.

he couldn't get up and leave you, if he let up the pressure you could die in the minute it'd take for him to set up.

he always failed you in the end. this was all his fault.

until, kaminari and kirishima walked in, about to yell out and bug katsuki for some food like usual. "yo bro! what's--"

the sight in front of them was one they never expected to see. katsuki almost crushing your arm with pressure, your blood all over the place. the front of house ruined.

it was enough for them to jump into action. katsuki holding you still as kirishima worked to get the bullet out of your arm. kaminari throwing the medkit over from where katsuki had it stored in a shelf. it had barely missed an artery, you were a milimeter away from death.

honestly, they hadn't liked you for a while. before meeting you they only saw you as the woman who was taking one of their best friends away from them. from their own.

but they learned that you only wanted the best for him, so you'd all become close. they learned how katsuki made this choice because he wanted better life for the two of you.

how he was growing sick of the repeated bloodshed that never amounted to anything. how his heart ached at the sight of you crying over his wounds, his black eyes and knife cuts embedded in his skin.

how he vowed to himself that before he'd ever propose to you, that he'd tie up all loose ends with his group, before he knew he could fully dedicate himself to you.

and he did.

nobody couldve ever imagined that they'd be here, kaminari working to keep you calm, helping regulate your breaths. you were freaking out, and that wasn't good for the extreme amount of blood you were losing.

katsuki would be forever grateful for them. he didn't know what he'd do if they weren't here, if you had died in his arms.

your screams were haunting, but at least you were alive. they finally died down into groans of pain when the bullet was out and the fabric was tied tightly around your shoulder.

your shirt was bloodied, his hands were too. he picked you up and mindlessly followed the two into a car that they must of called when he wasn't listening.

back to his old life he went. his eyes were sharp and angry, his hand gripping yours tightly, his finger over your pulse.

he had frozen up. and that could've costed you your life.

your eyes were half-lidded, but open.

only the noise of the road was heard throughout the car. he was the only one in the back, holding you in his arms as he faced straight ahead. he didn't think he could handle looking at you right now.

"'suki?" you said, so quietly the thumping of the road almost completely blocked it out.

but he heard you, he always did. "don't waste your energy. we're almost there."

you nodded, squeezing tighter. your eyes stuck on his bloodied shirt.

you were immediately rushed to the medical wing, the old woman dubbed 'recovery girl' taking you into her care. "she'll be fine, young man. she was lucky. they missed." she scurried off behind the operation team, who had immediately taken her into surgery.

those words carried only a bit of comfort for him. he was guided back to the meeting room, the one he'd been in several times before. the one he took brutal beat downs just to get out of.

but he was back, and it was for you. the same reason why he left.

he stared back at his old blood. deku had taken over for all might a couple years back, so he stood at the head of the table waiting for the rest of them settled in.

he wore a soft face of sympathy. "go change." deku finally said, handing him a pair of spare clothes. "we'll wait for you. you look like.. crap."

"to say the least." katsuki muttered, before accepting the clothes and going to where he knew the old bathroom was.

he washed his hands of your blood, but he knew it'd never really leave. he had stained your life, put you in danger for something as fragile as love. you could've died today, for the only reason of you being connected to him.

he changed, emptying the tattered shirt and slacks into the garbage. he didn't want anything to do with them anymore.

after splashing his face with some water, he headed back to the room.

every old face was there waiting for him, some with understanding small smiles.

he sat next to kirishima, arms crossed as he looked to the head.

"kacchan." deku started. "you, you aren't seriously thinking of coming back, are you?"

all eyes were on him, his body tense. "of course i am. i'm going to find the dumbfuck who did this and bury them."

"but you're not one of us anymore." todoroki cut in. "you left, if you come back it's like you did all that for nothing."

"you can never truly leave though, if you think about it." iida replied before katsuki had a chance. "this is just proof of it. even though he worked so hard to get rid of the connections to us, she still ended up targeted."

"and by an ally no less."

"a what?" katsuki said, his hand slamming on the table. "repeat that shit to me scarface?"

"it's not confirmed yet--"

"don't lie midoriya, it's obvious from the bullet. even the color is mocking us." todoroki said, sliding a bag across the table, over to katsuki.

a bright purple bullet was in it. it was bigger than he remembered, a 12.7 mmx99. it took up almost the entirety of his hand. whoever shot this really had wanted to kill you.

but it couldn't be...

"..shinsou?"

"that's who it points to."

"but. it doesn't make sense. your wife was close friends with him, and we haven't had bad relations with '2 Block' for decades!" midoriya reasoned.

"that doesn't change the fact there was a bullet in her arm." katsuki grumbled, moving it around in his hand. he slammed it back down onto the table.

"wow bakugo, if you couldn't pick up on that, i don't think you should be working this operation." kaminari said, a hand behind his head.

"shinsou wouldn't have missed. she'd be dead the second he aimed for her. you should know that."

silence enveloped the room. kaminari was right, if he didn't pick up on that, he was rusty.

his eye twitched. "i fuckin' knew that dumbass."

"you have personal stake in this, we get it. but you'll end up dead if you keep thinking with your shit attitude." kaminari responded.

"he has a point kacchan. why don't you let us handle it, and you can--"

"no."

he silenced them all with that single word. a face of sincerity and vulnerability he barely wore present in that moment. "i have to do this. i can't sleep at night if i don't. you guys of all people should understand."

a collective silence came over the room. they didn't say anything, but they knew if this had happened to them they'd want back in too.

they knew midoriya had the final say though, so they wished for his opinion.

"fine. but youre not doing this alone. we'll all get in on this. you were one of our best before, im sure all might would agree."

everyone nodded in agreement, saying some variation of 'if you say so'.

kirishima patted katsuki on the back. "hey man, our duos back again!"

"only for this mission though."

"aw man."

"we start tomorrow, so fix yourselves up. i have a feeling we'll be traveling around some tomorrow." midoriya ordered. "dismissed."

everyone poured out, katsuki walking directly to the medicine ward. he passed by the hallways, the pictures representing the allyship between them and the several surrounding gangs mocking as he walked by.

it all felt so familiar, it had only been a year. not much had changed, except for the atmosphere that he brought along with him.

he finally made it to the ward, looking past all the rooms. 'lets see, torture room.. cell.. no she'd be here.' he thought before walking into a hallway.

there he found only one room with a light on. he was right, he looked in to see you, fast asleep with bandages wrapped around your arm.

'at least you were safe', he sighed. jumping slightly when 'recovery girl' started speaking to him. "you did well, a moment later and she'd be dead. don't beat yourself up young man."

a moment passed between them, her words resonating in his mind. he'd done all that he could doz

"you can go wait inside, just don't wake her. there should be a spare bed you can pull out."

and with that, she left.

he walked inside, pulled out the bed and held your hand as he slept. the guilt never dissipated, it was all his fault. and so he'd have to fix it.

he woke up to the feeling of you moving. he'd been on edge the whole night, so the feeling of your hand jerking out of his woke him up immediately.

"katsuki." you said, sounding so tired and confused it broke his heart a bit.

" 'm here." he hugged you quickly, being mindful of the wound in your arm. a desperate, tearful kiss shared between you.

you took his face into your hands, making him stare into your eyes.

"i was so scared, you don't even know." you said nervously. "i thought i was gonna die."

katsuki held you tighter, still so disappointed with himself for even letting you get to that point. he felt like he should've taken the shot. that he should be the one injured right now, but instead he leaned in closer to you. "i was too, but you're here now. safe. with me."

"mhm."

you held him for a bit longer, looking at the room surrounding you.

while he was thinking of the possibilities that could've happened, his one wrong step from you could've left him all alone, you examined the room.

it wasn't a regular hospital, probably not a hospital at all. you knew that from the guns laying on the counters. the stitches all around ready for work, the empty body bags that were bloodied. mocking as they hung from the ceiling.

the windows, all reinforced heavily. the door that had a bolt lock on it.

you didn't get to feel relieved for long. "katsuki. be honest with me."

he tensed up, he knew you'd find out eventually. but he wanted to finish this mess before you ever knew about it. "always am."

"are you.. back in this?" you asked, looking into his eyes with an anxious expression. your hands clinging to his sides.

he sighed heavily. "y'know i have to. i'll never relax if i know that fucker is still out there. he could come back and.. and hurt you again."

"and i can't change your mind about this?"

"...no. it's for.. for us. i wouldn't have left if i didn't care for you, you know that."

"i do."

"then.. just-- wait for me okay? i won't leave 'til later today."

you nodded, laying your head in his chest. "if you get hurt too i think ill die."

"i won't get hurt."

"you promise?"

"i swear."

you leaned in and pecked another kiss on his lips. though you were interrupted by kirishima walking in.

"oops, i really should've knocke-"

"yeah you should've dumbass."

"hi kiri!" you waved, shoving katsuki off of you. "hey [name]!"

katsuki had one arm around you, squinting seemingly annoyed at his partner annoying his wife.

the topic would randomly change from shows you were watching, to fun things that have happened recently, but it took a deep turn into what had just happened to you.

"so, [name]. you heard bakugo's hanging with us for a while, right?"

"yeah, i did." you said, holding him just a bit closer subconsciously.

"so, did he tell you who we think did it?"

"shut the fuck up kir--"

"you already know?" your attention was on him fully. the look in your eyes revealing just how much you wanted answers. "well, it's just a guess for no--"

"shut up kirishima."

"but we think it's shinsou."

your face twisted in confusion. "shinsou?...

no, you're wrong."

"babe, please stay out of this."

"shinsou wouldn't do this-"

"they found his bullet in your arm. nobody else who isn't retired or dead uses that shit."

you physically recoiled at that. "no way." you looked to kirishima, who only confirmed it.

"this has to be a set up or something? he wouldn't do that!"

kirishima made a face, which made katsuki squint his eyes in confusion. "what?"

"i mean.. she could be right y'know. we talked a bit before you came bro." kirishima said, walking in and closing the door behind him.

"right about what? shinsou is associated even if he wasn't the one who shot the bullet." katsuki asserted, standing up to meet kirishima, even if he was taller. this made kiri shoot his arms up in defense.

"i'm saying you're both right. we think it's someone closely associated to shinsou, someone who either taught him or was close to his teacher."

"eraserhead? the guy with a thousand hits under his belt?"katsuki glared, shoving a pointed finger in kirishima's chest.

"hey man, i'm just the messenger. but, no. someone else who learned from him too. but, midoriya called 'you know who' for information."

katsuki sighed, knowing the asshole who went by 'hawks' was about to be here any moment. "fine, i'll be ready soon. just.. let me take her home."

kirishima nodded, leaving the room with a "be back soon man!"

"i'm taking you home baby."

"fine."

"and you have to take all the medicine and stuff when i call you. we'll have to use burners again."

you rolled your eyes. "..fine."

"and, i want you to text me every hour and before you go to sleep."

"fucking fine. let's go already, this place creeps me out."

"good."

he grabbed your hand, helping you up. he let you change into some sweatpants and a tshirt so you didn't have to be the hospital gown for much longer.

you drove home, taking the long route so you wouldn't have to the see the remnants of your , almost, death in your own shop. he had to leave you in front and he wasn't happy about it. opening your door and hugging you tightly, you knew he wasn't going to see you for a couple days.

"babe, text me whenever you can. send me photos or voice messages i don't give a fuck."

"it's only a couple of days kat' you'll be fine, but i'll do it. you text me too, tell me when you sleep and stuff."

"don't let anyone in the house and don't tell anyone what's happenin-"

"i know, babe. i'll be okay."

he shared one last kiss with you. with a determined face he turned away, he would not sacrifice your life together like this. he wouldn't not let you get hurt again.

he would not fail.

[winterzsurprise]

Change My Mind [4]

Pairing: BTS x reader

SUMMARY: As a make-up artist, you were expected to glamorize your clients with brushes and products that cost a week-worth of food, not to befriend them outside of work, let alone have them save you from dates yet here you are five years later as one of their closest confidants.

Being a stylist of the world's biggest boyband is no easy feat, someone is doing flips, someone can't stay still and one's asleep but its fine, you can work around their chaos but then one day, you find out they're all your soulmates, a whole different can of chaos you don't think you can handle.

Tags: Soulmates AU, Friends to Lovers, Eventual Smut, Not Beta Read, Slow Build, Polyamory, Attempts at Humor

Words: 7.1k

[1] [2] [3] [4]

nothing much to say this time but this is not beta read, my friend who was supposed to read it is unfortunately unavailable, idk if the argument makes sense in the end cause I personally run from confrontations so idk how to write good arguments so yeah.

This is a bit shorter than the previous chapters but the next one is longer again since-- GUNSHOT

ANYWAYS, Happy reading!!

Also I hope I got the taglist right, please if you don't want to be in it, do tell me. If anyone else wants to be added to the taglist, please comment down below.

TAGLIST: @wildestdreamsblog @canarystwin @prettywheenicry @jmnscutie @sassy-snassy @misuguru @11thenightwemet11 @yoongibaybee @rinkud

___________

In all of your years working for Bangtan, as one of their staff and the youngest stylist, you've been included in every life events and celebrations there is. Birthdays, first wins, comebacks, everything there is even something as important as family dinners. You've never skipped or forgot a single member's birthday, period.

But as Guwon stands before you, a plane ticket to Jeju in hand with the departure scheduled tomorrow and returning just a day short before the tour, you find yourself at a crossroad. It’s Jungkook's birthday tomorrow and Jimin has planned a small party tonight at their dorms before the formal celebration at the company the next day.

While you've been trying to rectify the awkward air between you and the maknae since his confession by starting conversations, the maknae only replied to you with silence before promptly vanishing in two seconds flat.

But despite the strain in your relationship, you could never think of not attending his birthday. You'd never thought to be petty enough to return his energy. His present was already wrapped in a pretty bow under your bed for a week now for Christ's sake!

“I-I can't… It's one of their birthday’s tomorrow.”

“Oh.” His smile falls. “Can't you just give your gift today? Surely they can party for one night without you.”

It was a genuine question, logical and true but for some reason, his tone raised concerns within you. You swear to the highest heavens you could hear a bit of irritation hidden beneath dejection.

You winced. “I can't, I'm really sorry… I-I can pay you back what you've spent for the trip. I'm really sorry, I just never missed any of their birthdays. I swear I'll make it up to you next time!”

Guwon's shine dulled the further you went on and your heart twinged with guilt. In another universe where some humans gained animalistic features, he'd have dog ears pressed to his skull, staring at you with wide and glistening eyes.

You waved off the image immediately, disturbed.

“It's also my fault for not asking for your schedule. The tour is next week and then you'd be away from me for months so I kind of… panicked. I'm sorry.”

He should've known better than not to do research on your bosses , a voice at the back of your head scoffed and you waved the thought away as you put a hand over his. 

“I should've notified you as well. Tell me if those are refundable or not, I'll pay you back.”

He waves you off. “Cute but I've been raised well to know not to ask a lady to pay for my mistake, so don't worry that pretty head of yours about not being able to go.”

The date continued and thankfully, no dead air remained and conversation eased out of the both of you. Guwon sorted out his reservations early on, he'd stopped eating every once in a while to pick up his phone to either receive a call or respond to an email.

With how often he answered the chimes of his phone and how long it took for him to finally put it down, you figured he must've prepared a lot for the week and it made you feel more guilty every time he did it.

Today, he brought you both to an indoor park he rented for an hour for a picnic. It was on the outskirts of Seoul and he also cooked most of the food placed between you both, his mother however, was responsible for the side dishes.

Speaking of mothers, yours called earlier to congratulate you on whatever it was she was adamant on keeping secret but you already knew what it was and you were glad Jungkook’s mother gave birth on such a perfect day almost 21 years ago.

Guwon was planning to propose to you during the trip.

It left a bitter taste in your tongue. Sure you had expected to be married to him at some point but you barely knew the man outside of his colorful stories, and knew none of his actual behavior in his home. You haven't even visited his house yet for a vibe check so why is he rushing too fast?

Despite the guilt in your heart, relief is more palpable knowing you'd have more time to figure out if you truly want Guwon in your life.

Your phone vibrated in your pocket and you took a glance at it.

[17:29] Jinnie: I'll pick you up at your apartment by 6.

[17:29] Jinnie: please be prepared😊

Seeing the t̶h̶r̶e̶a̶t̶e̶n̶i̶n̶g̶ friendly smile attached at the end of his message, you're suddenly reminded of the present. You hadn't told any of them of your date today, something that had drawn out longer than you thought it would. You frowned, fingers drumming on the side of your phone as you pondered on what to reply.

You had promised to help with the food yet here you are, out of town and on a picnic date inside a garden observatory.

“Who is it?” Guwon asks, seeing the frown on your face. Your mind immediately picks up the odd tone he has.

“Their oldest, Jin. We're supposed to cook together before the rest comes home.”

He furrowed his eyebrows. “I thought the birthday was tomorrow?”

“Oh, we're planning a small party before it, just his closest friends.”

Guwon nodded, eyes distant and thoughtful as he took a bite of his sandwich before continuing. “What time are you expected?”

“Their eldest said he'll pick me up at six.”

He looked at his watch and frowned deeper. “It's already 5:30. Maybe I can drive you to their dorm instead?”

You immediately shook your head. Remembering the promise you had with Jin and Jungkook. The maknae had recently begun to look at your direction again yesterday after Hoseok had talked to him, inviting Guwon would ruin the smallest progress you’ve had. 

Not to mention, you can't reveal their dorm location even if he is to be your husband. Company rules and you've signed an NDA.

“Company rules, can't reveal their location.”

“If we're going to be a couple soon, I'm going to need to know more about these guys you're hanging around. I don't trust them.” He says as he turns to the picnic basket to take another sandwich out, unable to see the twitch in your eye. 

“Well, you have to learn how to, they’re my bosses and my best friends.”

“I’m having a hard time believing that. I mean,” He scoffed. “Did you notice how they look at me whenever I’m around? That rapper—Yun–Yoonmi stared at me like I’m an insect he stepped on.”

Anger boils deep within your soul and you’re sure it's visibly contorting your face at this point but the man didn’t notice it and continued chewing on his food.

“Besides, their location is pretty well known already, no? Just a couple searches away, why be so secretive about it?”

You refrain yourself from frowning and it takes all of the energy within you to not react as wildly as you would’ve. It was amazing how the illusion of something good could shatter with only a few words and you set down the sandwich in your hand.

There's something terribly humbling upon realization that the man you're talking to is indeed, a man.

Noticing the shift in the air, he set down his cup of coffee with a slight raise to his brows.

“Why are you looking at me like that? It's true though, I just think it's pointless to try to hide it when some people already know, so what's the use of trying to hide their dorm?”

Where's Jimin and Taehyung at times like this?

You dreaded the conversation you're about to bring up to your mother once she calls, and could hear her scolding you for having such high standards. Guwon being indifferent to the possibility of being stalked, and your boys’ privacy being breached immediately raise red glaring flags over his head.

A lawyer himself who shrugged at the threat of crimes, the joke just writes itself.

“Don't look at me like that, I'm just… trying to understand why you didn't want me to interact with them after our second date. It makes a man overthink, know?”

Whatever thread you were holding onto, a sliver of hope that you might've misheard or misunderstood him, decayed within you and you picked up your phone to stuff into your bag.

You had hoped, wished, that after your deep talk on the night Seokjin had scolded your ass to the nines he'd understand your dynamic better with the boys or at least try. You could already hear Yoongi's drawl out ‘I told you so’ as you packed up, even imagine him bringing up Namjoon’s statistical analysis and how I should've listened to it.

“If you're implying what I think you are implying then I don't think we should meet each other anymore.”

Tossing the food back into the basket carelessly, you slung your bag over your shoulder and stand, only for his hand to shoot out to grab your wrist in an iron grip.

“Wait, I-I'm sorry! I just got… jealous, that's all.”

Even with the apologetic look displayed clearly on his face and the fear swimming with them, nothing could bring back to life the trust you had on the man and you pushed his hand away.

“I can't stay with someone who can't understand why those boys are important to me, sorry Guwon but we're over. Don't you ever contact me again.”

“You can't possibly be breaking up with me because I said what I felt? Over them? Really?!”

You don't even recognize the man sitting opposite you.

He knew, he saw how close you are with them and even sat through the stories you told him during your dates. Guwon knew you cherished every single boy in the group yet he disregarded it all because of jealousy? If that isn't a warning, then you might be blind.

“It's like I never even knew you at all.”

He scoffed. “Same with you. Can't believe I actually believed your words telling me you were friends but I saw how those boys treated you!”

Sure your relationship with your bosses is unusual but it was built from hardship and loneliness from being taken away from home and surrendering their time for a glimpse of fame in a field where they're at a huge disadvantage. It was special in ways not many could fathom because in their head, what reason would there be for a man to befriend a girl other than having the intention to fuck them?

It was the mindset of the old and “ wise” and it had infuriated you to the nines.

For him to reveal himself as one of those old cogs when he expressed himself as a gentleman and be convinced by his act of kindness, even the word disappointing could express how greatly upset you are.

“Bet you've slept with all of them at least once, hell, I don't even know why your mother bothered when you're already busy whoring yourself for seven men.”

Anger flooded your veins, it was hot and rampaging under your skin. Before your mind could even register your actions, your hand had already moved, making contact with his cheek in one swift motion. The slap echoed like a clap of thunder in the silence of the observatory.

Even after seeing the angry red mark beginning to mar his skin, your anger remained.

“Goodbye Guwon, I hope we never see each other again.”

Walking away was easier said than done.

You got picked up by Guwon earlier and since you've run far enough from the indoor garden, away from your supposed ticket back home, you're now waiting for an uber at a small library sequestered between towering and loudly designed buildings. You had half a mind to ask your friends that lived nearby for a ride but decided against it.

They might be busy with their own family. 

Unlike you.

As you sit there waiting for your ride to come, your mind takes you to your mother and her genuine glee at the thought of you getting married. Ever since your second date, she had been sending you photographs of weddings for inspirations, links to event places and tailors, and flower shops where you could have your bouquet arranged. She was beyond ecstatic, if she heard what had happened, she would be devastated. 

A loud, exasperated sigh left your lips, the volume catching the attention of the bookkeeper who was quick to shush you.

As you waited longer with only the deafening silence of the library to accompany you, doubt began to form at the back of your head. 

Was breaking up with Guwon really the right choice? 

An angry, louder voice screamed at you for doubling down on your decision. You knew your boys longer than you knew him, if the trip had gone through, Guwon would've proposed to you despite the short time you've known each other. Something you didn't want. Not to mention, he would've gone through the idea while contemplating on your loyalty.

So yes, it was the right decision!

But you were to be married .

Your mother was so happy to have finally matched you with a guy you attended three dates with. The thought made your heart clench, she was excited to see you on the altar and has most likely spread it around your town with pride. She was about to have three married children.

Gods, you don't want to imagine the conversation later on, she'd be distraught.

Your phone buzzed and you dreaded looking at the screen to see your mother's name. Luckily, it was Jin instead.

           [18:01] Jinnie: where are you?

           [18:01] Jinnie: knocked on your door but the neighbor said you were out.

           [18:02] Jinnie: you're late😒

           [18:02] Jinnie: I'm going to have them deduct your pay this month for making me wait

           [18:03] You: I'm sorry your highness for disappointing you, please forgive this servant of yours🤧

           [18:03] You: was on a date

           [18:03] You: not that it matters anymore, I broke up with Guwon

           [18:04] You: does it even count? I mean, we weren't official, he didn't ask me to be his girlfriend yet.

You paused, face souring as you realized what you've just typed. 

Guwon hadn't asked for your hand officially even after three dates, he had the chance on your second date during the stroll but he didn't. Despite this, he went and asked your parents for their blessings when he hadn't even asked you first.

           [18:04] You: wow I just remembered that

           [18:04] You: then he had the audacity to propose to me!

There's a pause in between his usually instant replies and you had an inkling he's already spreading the gossip around the group somehow.

           [18:08] Jinnie: wow there's a LOT to unpack there

           [18:08] Jinnie: but worry not

           [18:08] Jinnie: I'll have Jimin get us the strongest drink there is for later

           [18:09] Jinnie: we'll drink that sorrow away and you're going to tell me what the hell you meant by proposing while not being official 

           [18:10] You: I don't think I should tell you that…

           [18:10] You: considering… ya know

           [18:11] You: also don't you guys have an early schedule tomorrow?🤨

           [18:12] Jinnie: bold of u to assume I don't want hear how massive of a failure he is

           [18:12] Jinnie: nothing better than hearing your enemy’s downfall😌

           [18:13] Jinnie: also what do you mean ‘you guys’??? 

           [18:13] Jinnie: you're literally our make-up artist!

You scoffed at the message but before you could type up a reply, the notification from your uber app popped out to inform you about your driver now waiting outside the library and you walked out.

           [18:23] You: and just because I'm your make-up artist, doesn't mean I should let you all get away with this

           [18:23] You: and I won't even drink much :pp

           [18:24] Jinnie : if I ever see you stumbling around the house, you owe me 100000

           [18:25] You: WOW

           [18:25] You: AREN'T YOU RICH ALREADY????

           [18:25] Jinnie: money is money😌

           [18:26] Jinnie: just get ur ass over here already before I add more zeros to the bet

The smell of Jin’s cooking, both spicy and something savory, welcomed you first before the sound of sizzles did. At the sound of the door closing, Jin appears round the corner with an apron hung from his neck and a tong stained with red bean paste in the other.

Despite the disappointed look he's going for, reminiscent of a mother who caught her daughter coming home past curfew, the relief you feel upon seeing his handsome face after earlier was palpable and the knots in your stomach loosened.

“I should have your pay deducted for showing up late.”

You winced. “Sorry boss, can I appeal for a heartbreak discount on that?”

“Only if you give me a hug and cry on my shoulder.” 

He opened his arms wide, plush lips widening into a smile when you approached to wrap your arms around his torso. The fabric of his sweatshirt was soft and the scent of new laundry overtook his usual scent of freshly baked cakes and gentle vanilla perfume, it almost made you boneless in his hold. Moreso when he started stroking your head while the other ran up and down your back with his palm, fingers still wrapped around the tongs.

He didn't pull away despite the awkward position with him bending down and practically melting against your smaller form. In your years of being friends, you could never recall Seokjin being the first to pull away from a hug and once more, you're grateful for that.

“You wanna talk about it?”

“I’ll do it while cooking, we might burn whatever you're cooking if I told you all about it here.”

He shook his head, his rubbing motions on your back turning into gentle pats. “We can just order it online if it does, I even bet that they'll still eat it even if it was. Hoba was relentless today.”

His nails raked through your scalp and you resisted the urge to shiver. 

“He was being an ass towards you guys. Then when I defended you all, he accused me of sleeping around.”

His first instinct was to curse the man down to his ancestors who bred with each other until he was born, but stopped himself when he realized what he's about to say and cleared his throat.

If his arms coiled tighter around you, you only leaned into him further.

“Normally I would say "I told you so" but I know Yoongi has it covered later. So I'll just say—"

"Don't you dare. Jin don’t you dare finish that sentence."

"I knew it."

He let out a cry when your hand slapped his arm but it quickly dissolved into a fit of squeaky laughter and he pushed your head back under his chin before you could even continue hitting him. Hand continuing their petting as you let out an annoyed groan.

“My mom was so excited! God. I hate that bastard for disappointing me and her. She was sending me links to wedding planners and dressmakers because apparently he was supposed to take me to Jeju tomorrow and propose.”

He stills in your arms, the hand in your hair stopping its motion as his breath hitched in his chest. It took him a moment before he recollected himself and continued to pat your head, pressing a kiss on top of your crown.

“I'm sure auntie will understand, I know that she would've wanted you to find a good man like she and your sister did.”

A voice at the back of your head told you he was referring to himself but you threw the thought away as soon as it went.

“Personally, I would've taken the ticket and ditch him.” He laughed and you hit his arm with a barely concealed grin. “All I'm saying is that free things should be used and if it's gifted then better! You get to decide how to use it so refund it!”

“I don't think it's that easy.”

“Just say Kim Seokjin of BTS asked for a refund and they'll immediately accept it.”

Pulling away, you playfully rolled your eyes at him, earning you one last laugh as you walked to the kitchen where the sizzles of the food being fried on the pan had long been muted. Jin followed you with an onslaught of words spilling from his lips, justifying and detailing how he would've done in your place as you placed your bag down on the island counter before reaching for the spare apron.

Hearing his rants filling the silence made it easier to relax, made forgetting how upset you were at Guwon a walk in the park.

It was familiar and his voice, despite his fiery indignation, was oddly comforting.

Soon enough, your conversation halts and you both position yourself over the counter, following his orders mindlessly; which is mostly dicing the vegetables and the slabs of meat he marinated last night in soy sauce and spices. 

You found the repetitive motions of chopping soothing and silently thanked the man now hovering over the saucepan, gently stirring the seaweed soup. 

As if sensing your eyes boring holes on the back of his head, his ears reddened and he looked over his shoulder to meet your gaze.

“W-what is it? Wh-why are you looking at me like that?”

“Just admiring how huge your shoulders are and how reliable you are.” 

You recalled how dearly he cared for his group despite the exhaustion from practicing singing and dancing the whole day. Despite being the youngest in his family, Jin took on the mantle of the oldest brother in the group easily and selflessly provided for his members alongside Yoongi and Namjoon. If it were anybody, you were sure the boys would've been sick or had long given up, especially when the company was about to file bankruptcy in their earlier years.

From the bone shattering dances, exhausting practices and routines stretching from dawn till dusk, you were thankful Seokjin was there to catch the others when they fall.

It was a hard task nobody would've assumed since selfishness is a built-in trait of a human yet Seokjin proved you wrong when he stayed up every night despite the muscle cramps and exhaustion weighing his bones to cook for his members, taking the role of the eldest like it was a second nature despite being the youngest in his family.

He barked out a half-hearted laugh as his red ears brightened from the compliment. “I already know that of course!”

“Thank you for everything, Jin.”

His face crumpled when he laughed bashfully, the bright hue in his ears crawling to dusk his cheeks as well. It didn't take long before he recovered and like clockwork, in reaction to being flustered by compliments, he got defensive and raised the saucer threateningly at you.

“Ya! If you're planning to compliment me, at least be original! I'm done hearing about how wide my shoulders are from ARMY and how reliant I am from the others! We've been together for years, do better and be original with your compliments!”

It was a joke, obviously.

But staring at the older man childishly brandishing his cooking utensil like a bludgeoning weapon, you couldn't help but ponder about what truly pulled you into him only to realize that you've never truly dove deeper than surface level details. It was disappointing to find out how shallow you've been when expressing your appreciation for the man.

Like he said, you've always pointed out how reliable he is but never have you pointed out the small things such as the warm food he claimed have been extras and the hot soups sectioned off for you on cold days.

He was the first to approach you on the first day despite being the member who mostly kept to himself, asking you if you wanted to celebrate their Rookie of the Year win with them instead of the rowdy staff behind you. 

The first one to build a bridge leading to this deep companionship you had with the rest of the members, have you really never thanked him for that?

“You're so caring and humble despite your background and where you are right now. If it was anybody else, they would've left the boys to fend for themselves once they were able to yet you didn't stop cooking for them, for us. I don't think I have ever met a man so down to earth and as loving as you are,” You paused. “Well, except Jimin but if you want something more original I'd say I love your hands even when you think they're weird because they—”

You didn't even realize Jin crossed the distance between you both until his hands clasped around your lips, silencing you completely.

Unlike earlier with only his ears blushing, his cheeks now glowed red, the flushed skin spreading down to his neck, continuing past the collar of his dark blue pajamas. When your eyes meet, you find his glistening with unshed tears no doubt touched by your hastily put together declaration of your appreciation for him. 

When it was clear you wouldn't continue your rant, his arms fell to your shoulders and pulled you into a tight embrace. 

His violent heartbeats thudding against his chest was the first thing you've heard before you registered the stuttered exhales and his gentle saccharine scent filling your senses, clouding your brain completely. For a moment, it was just you and him in the kitchen, hugging a little longer than friends should be.

But then again, since when have you guys ever drawn the line on how platonic touches should last?

“God… You gotta stop doing that.”

“I'm just following what you told me like a good dongsaeng and I think I did exceedingly well on it. Does that guarantee a deduction on my pay deduction?”

There's an odd, invisible weight that lifted off of you, something you didn't even realize you were carrying. But there's also a tinge of guilt pinching the edges of your heart.

Jin was the first to approach you, and the first to confess four years ago. He was all shy looks and sweet smiles, his sweet words accompanied by a bouquet of flowers that must've cost him more than he could've gotten from being an idol of a new group. 

When Jin loves, he gives his all and doesn't think twice to give half of himself as well. In a way, he and Yoongi were alike, just with different approaches.

He was open and unapologetic while Yoongi was subtle and often silent.

His laugh twinkled in your ears but it dwindled later on, as if he remembered something towards the end of his mirth. “You're driving me crazy, how am I supposed to move on when you're this lovely?”

Hearing him confirm your suspicion about his crush—is it even called that at this point?—relieved you from an unknown anxiety most likely sparked by Jungkook's words a few nights ago. Why are you even relieved hearing him still liking you when all you've done is hurt him?

“You're such an idiot, you know that?”

“Love makes you do the stupidest thing but I don't think I've ever regretted ever falling for you.”

He pulls away, a gentler, softer smile now tugging his lips up.

“God, you made me sappy! My god, my soup!” 

Even without the warmth of his embrace, you could feel it radiate in the small space of the kitchen. You continued your work as Jin fuzzed about the seaweed soup behind you, bathing in the domesticity of it all.

Your phone vibrates loudly in your bag on the island counter. Wiping your hand on your apron, you opened it to see Jimin’s messages.

           [18:56] Mimi: seokjin hyung told me to buy the strongest alcohol 

           [18:57] Mimi: any idea why he’s being weird?

           [18:57] You: I’ll tell jin that you called him weird

           [18:57] You: but yes

           [18:57] You: I’ll tell you all later why

           [18:58] Mimi: 🤨

           [18:58] Mimi: not if I get you drunk in the first ten minutes

           [18:58] You: I’d like to see you try, pretty boy

Your phone vibrated again. Namjoon had texted you, seeing the preview you rolled your eyes.

            [18:59] Joonie: Seokjin hyung didn’t say but I already figured it out

            [18:59] Joonie: You'd hear enough from Yoongi hyung later but

[18:58] Joonie: I told you so

[18:58] You: I hope you trip and fall on shit🥰

[18:59] Joonie: Love you too, noona😁

[18:59] You: blocked🚫

“I'm not seeing enough chopping, young lady. Get back to your station!” Jin jokingly scolds. With a laugh, you return to your spot.

By the time some of the boys arrived—except Jimin, Jungkook and Taehyung, no doubt pre-gaming somewhere—it was already ten and some of the dishes were plated, ready to be eaten in the dining room. If it wasn't for both your and Jin's advanced thinking to ready the bowl of rice and their plates beforehand, they would have starved to death as Yoongi dramatically puts it before blaming Hoseok for draining them out the whole day.

The man in question just laughed in response before shrugging and rebuking their ‘accusations’, saying it wasn't even that hard. To this, Yoongi grumbled under his breath and Namjoon rolled his eyes.

A few minutes later, the maknaes entered, cheeks all flushed except for Jimin who was holding up a bag full of canned alcohol as if it was game from an all-day hunt.

You thanked Jimin silently for drinking the birthday boy tipsy enough to make the dinner energetic instead of the awkwardness you thought it'd be due to what happened a few days ago. There's fleeting eyes you've caught in between jokes he made, either pouring with adoration or longing, you tried to not to pay it much mind.

But of course, the alcohol pouring could only go for so long before you're all lounging in the living room to talk about anything that comes to mind. It was half an hour short from the clock tickling to twelve, signifying Jungkook's actual birthday.

The conversation started off tame with Taehyung questioning the animals who sleep standing to something more elaborate with Yoongi asking everyone's opinion about some decrypt conspiracy theory surrounding the rich of the west. It was all fun and games when Taehyung, lost in his own mind running with the most random thought, sluggishly pointed at you and asked:

“Wh-why aren't you checking your phone? G-Guwon hyung haven't been texting you yet?”

Many heads turned to you who was practically boneless in between a tipsy Hoseok and a still sober Yoongi. You didn't even need to look to know the look of concern Jin was throwing your way.

But everything was hazy, your head throbbing from the alcohol. The words slipped past your lips before you could think about it.

“We parted ways… He accused me of sleeping around when I said I didn't want to go on a trip with him tomorrow ‘cause I didn't want to skip Jungkookie's birthday.”

Hoseok patted your shoulder and Yoongi nodded, face indifferent as usual. Despite the reaction of the boys on both sides, not everyone in the circle held the same opinion it seems.

“You didn't have to decline it, noona. You-you’ve been with us for years, missing one wouldn't hurt me much.”

Jungkook's voice was softer as if he had sobered up from the revelation and you waved him away.

“What are you saying? I couldn't leave when we weren't alright.” You glimpsed at Jin before continuing. “Besides, he was planning to propose and I'm glad he couldn't anymore.”

In your drunken mind, the information didn't carry much weight but the pin drop silence following your words did, you guessed that it must've been. However, it didn't last long when Taehyung jumped up to his feet and punched the air as if Korea just scored the final score in FIFA.

The boys look at him with wide eyes, shocked by his reaction. Jimin recovers and tries to tug him down but a drunk Taehyung is determined, with a will stronger than a monk's resilience and patience, no one could stop him from doing what he wanted.

And that was bumping his glass on your forehead, a little harder than it should've been if he was sober and you reel back, a hand over your forehead.

“Noona! you're free again! Do you know what that means?!”

“Ok that's enough for you tonight. Let's get you to bed.” Jimin says, chuckling awkwardly as he stands behind his best friend, wrapping his arms around his waist before dragging him away.

“Why? Can't I just congratulate noona from recognizing something was off instead of ignoring it like most do? Noona,” He turned to you, bottom lip jutted out. “It's not bad that I'm celebrating right?”

Seokjin’s laugh was nervous when he rose to usher the man away as well. “Alright, lets all calm down so we don't accidentally say something while drunk.”

“Fuck yeah! I-I don’t even know why I even believed his lies, he’s a lawyer for fucks sake!”

“Not that it ever stopped you before. I still don't understand why you couldn't have married one of us instead.” Jungkook cuts in, suddenly irritated.

Somehow, the tension in the room grew tenfold and everyone sits up, alert and ready to interfere if their youngest decides to let the alcohol take control of him. Your brain clears once it registered the annoyance in his voice, heart dropping to the soles of your feet.

“Jungkook—”

“I just think it's a bullshit excuse and you know it. You told that to Jin-hyung four years ago and have repeated it ever since. We’re all adults now, we can handle a little rejection and who’s to say we can’t date when we’re the only idol running the company. You say it's because you don’t want to choose but aren’t you just instilling false hope in us?” 

He stood as he grew more agitated but Jin pushed him down, eyes stern as he stared down at their youngest. Seeing the conflict brew between them, the growing guilt built by years of spending time with them reawakened.

It tied your stomach in a knot and felt like a building had dropped onto your heart.

As if sensing your emotions, Yoongi’s hand found your shoulder to give it a squeeze.

“You’re not thinking straight so stop it,” Jin excuses as he turns to you with an apologetic smile. “He’s just drunk, he doesn’t—”

“I know what I’m saying and I think you’re being too biased here hyung!”

“Jungkook…” Hoseok calls from next to you, voice low, a warning.

“You too! She’s also your friend, why aren’t you pointing out how she’s just playing with us? Why are you only calling me out?”

“Because you’re being a stupid drunk right now, Jungkook. Stand down .” Yoongi ordered, voice firm and warning. His arms are crossed as he stared their youngest down but the maknae wasn’t intimidated by it, if anything, the fire in the older man’s eyes only fueled the anger boiling within him.

In years you’ve watched over them, never once has Yoongi scolded their youngest past Run BTS contents, leaving the reprimanding to their oldest and leader. For him to call him out and seeing them grow agitated by each other’s presence, dread loomed over you with your nightmares threatening to come true. 

This isn’t how tonight’s party was supposed to go.

“Isn’t there anyone who’d agree with me at how absurd all of this is?!” His head snapped at Namjoon who’s watching with a careful eye. “Hyung, surely you can also see it!”

Throughout the exchange, Namjoon had sat back and watched the interaction from the sidelines instead of interfering on the first hint of a fight breaking out. Even when the situation becomes a little aggressive, he stays silent but you don’t doubt that he’d be the first to stand if the disagreement becomes volatile and inching towards physical.

That's what he always has done, observed and let the high rise of emotions eventually tides down to a calm on their own. He's a leader, he's supposed to be fair and to do so, he must first understand both sides before taking action. He also trusts his own team to temper their own ire after years of being together.

But now that he's forced to join the argument, he sighed and stood. Seokjin stepped away as he approached their youngest with both hands placed on his shoulders to sit him back down. 

Obediently, Jungkook follows.

“While I do see where you’re coming from, I think it's a bit unfair that you’re blaming her for being scared.” Jungkook opens his mouth but a firm shake of Namjoon’s head shuts him up. “Don’t start again. There’s a power imbalance here kid. If her choosing someone could cause a problem, we’d get off scot free but not her. In the eyes of the company, she’s disposable—”

“But she’s not.”

“She is. In their eyes at least. By having her around causing problems for us, she’s nothing but a thorn in their side that they should remove. If she had dated one of us and eventually broke up, it would cause an awkwardness and riff between guys especially if it ended on a bad note and BigHit won't stand for it. You know how important this job is for her, right?”

They stared at each other for a long while, both unrelenting in silence. You all waited with bated breath, Namjoon was the only one who could diffuse the situation and if he fails, then who else could possibly calm the maknae down?

Turning to the clock, you bit your lip at the time.

It was nearing Jungkook's actual birthday, three minutes short before both hands ticked to twelve.

Which meant it would have to start during the denouement of an argument. The thought planting discomfort in your stomach. Such a happy celebration shouldn't be welcomed like this.

In the midst of raised voices and pointing fingers, Taehyung has completely sobered up from where he sat between Jimin’s thighs, staring beady eyed at the situation in his friend’s arms. Sensing your gaze, he turned to you with a sheepish, apologetic smile when Jungkook's heavy sigh broke through the silence.

His head fell to his chest as Namjoon removed his hands from his shoulders yet his eyes remained on their youngest’s hunched form.

“You get what we're trying to say now, do you?”

“Y-yeah…”

“Anything you want to say, gguk?” Namjoon was talking to him like he was a kindergarten teacher and you both were kids who fought on the sandbox for the shovel, warm and understanding but the disappointment in his tone is clear as day.

Jungkook doesn't reply but he shoots up to his feet, surprising Hoseok next to you, with eyes still trained on the floor.

When he did look up to meet your gaze, it was brief and cut off by a deep bow. You reached your hands out, trying to stop him from doing so but Yoongi took one of your hands and pinned them down between his and your thighs.

Jungkook never had to bow for you and it felt wrong seeing him bent down to apologize.

“I-I’m sorry noona, I—” He trails off.

In his speechlessness in a room full of people who—while understanding where he comes from—stood behind you, he clams up and then in a flash, he’s gone, bolting from the living room and skipping up the stairs. The sound of his heavy footfalls echoing like the clock ticking down to his birthday.

The argument has been dissolved, yet it left a bitter taste on your tongue, it made you feel queasy having everyone back you up without reprimanding you as well. It was true, what Jungkook said. 

Weren't you practically leading them on by not choosing anyone? No matter how unintentional it must be, if he thinks that way then maybe everyone else in the group does, just silently.

You turned to the clock again. A minute closer to the next day.

Frustration made you want to pull your hair out but the long, lithe fingers that have entangled with yours in the middle of it all, forbade you from doing so. As if he could hear the internal debate between logic and emotions, Yoongi gave you a comforting squeeze.

But it didn't feel right, you shouldn't be sitting on your ass while Jungkook blamed himself for expressing his own opinion, sure it was a bit aggressive but you understood his frustration.

“Jungkook!” You called out, rising to your feet to follow him when Yoongi tightened his hold on your wrist and shook his head.

“He needs time to process, leave him be.”

Yet despite this, you shrugged his hold off and followed the youngest’s heavy footfalls upstairs and presumably into his room. You caught onto him in the hallway, with the door to his room opened and half of his body already inside.

“Jungkook, let us talk.”

“I-I don't want to see you right now, noona please.”

The desperation to correct the wrongs gives you a short burst of energy and you catch his wrist.

“Jungkook please, I—”

You heard the joyful chime of the clock downstairs before you heard the sweet jingles of bells.

Then you felt it.

Electric jolts shoot up from your connected hands, waking every cell and your mind awake and you almost keel over from the wave of relieving warmth washing over your body. There’s now a low hum accompanying the bells chiming in the background, the soft harmony between them sending shivers down your spine. 

You've thought of first meetings like those scenes in Hollywood movies where a kaleidoscope of colors explodes behind your eyelids, like fireworks celebrating the precious moment where the protagonists finally meet and fireworks shoot up to the sky. They talked of a brief moment of reprieve from reality, the world slowing down and feeling the most calmed you've ever been with your soulmate in hand.

Like your soul finally recognizing its pair and suddenly, everyone became a blur in the background.

Yet when you stared back at Jungkook's mirrored astonishment, your stomach bottomed out.

Because no way in hell, after all this time, you're soulmates.

[freshl6ve]

𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐓. 𝐒 | 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐍𝐄𝐄𝐃?

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑─𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐊

₊⊹⁀➴ : Late at night, Y/N lies awake, her mind racing and the familiar ache of insomnia gnawing at her. Weed always helped her sleep, but ever since she cut ties with her old habits, she hasn’t found relief. It’s been months since she last saw Matt, her ex-dealer, and she’d promised herself not to fall back into old routines. But tonight, the restlessness is unbearable. Desperate for peace, she grabs her keys and drives through the dark streets, the memory of Matt’s place pulling her in. Before she knows it, she’s standing at his door, heart pounding, unsure of what she’ll say when he answers.

⭑.ᐟ : SMUT, dealer!matt x reader, unprotected sex (be safe!), oral (y/n receiving), p in v, dom!matt x sub!reader, mention of drugs, pet names (baby, sweetheart), dirty talk, switch(?) and more.

𝐀 𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐇𝐋𝟔𝐕𝐄 𝐎𝐍𝐄-𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓 𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋

˚⊱🪄⊰˚ : 𝐈 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐞𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠, my mind racing with a hundred thoughts. It was late, the world outside my bedroom window was pitch black and silent. I rolled over, trying to force myself to close my eyes and drift off to sleep, but it was no use. My mind was a whirlpool of worries and anxieties, refusing to let me find peace. Hours seemed to pass, the clock on my bedside table ticking away the minutes. I tossed and turned, my frustration growing with every passing moment. I knew I had to find a way to calm my mind, but nothing seemed to work.

I sat up in bed, rubbing my eyes in frustration. It was as if my mind had its own agenda, refusing to cooperate with my body's need for rest. I glanced at the clock and saw that it was now 3:00 am. I sighed, feeling like I had been battling the demons of insomnia for an eternity. I decided that lying in bed was not going to solve anything. I needed a change of scenery, a distraction.

I felt a pang of guilt in my chest as my mind drifted to the familiar escape it had always sought— weed. I immediately pushed the thought away, reminding myself of the promise I had made to myself. No more falling into old habits, no more dependence on substances to numb the pain. But the more I tried to forget about it, the more the memory of its calming effects lingered in my mind.

I lay back down on the bed, my body tense and restless. I knew I had to find a way to distract myself from the temptation, but my thoughts kept returning to the past. Matt's face flashed in my mind, and my stomach twisted in knots. I had cut ties with him months ago, and the memories of our tumultuous relationship still haunted me. Seeing him again would only stir up old emotions that I was desperate to keep buried.

I took a deep breath, trying to steady my thoughts. But the restless feeling within me didn’t subside. It was as if a part of me was still clinging to the past, refusing to let go.

“Fuck it”

Before I knew it, my car keys were in my hand, the familiar route to Matt’s house etched into my memory.

The drive to Matt's house was a blur. I wasn't thinking clearly, my mind was a mixture of nervousness and adrenaline. I tried to think of what I would say when I saw him, to justify my impulsive decision to show up at his doorstep in the middle of the night. The streets were quiet, the city seemed eerily still. I felt a pang of doubt, but my mind was too clouded with restlessness to turn back now.

I parked my car and turned it off immediately, not wanting to alert Matt of my presence just yet. My heart was pounding in my chest as I walked towards his driveway. I could see the lights were on in his house, a sign that he was still awake. I took a deep breath and walked up to the front door, my hand hovering over the door.

Matt stood in the doorway, his expression calm and almost nonchalant. He looked at me for a moment, his eyes scanning my face and taking in my disheveled appearance. He leaned casually against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest.

Matt's eyebrows raised slightly as he looked me up and down. He gave a half-smile, a hint of surprise in his voice.

“Well, fancy seeing you here,” he said, his tone casual and almost amused. “I wasn't expecting company this late.”

I looked up at Matt, my voice slightly sheepish. “I couldn't sleep,” I admitted, the words sounding weak in the quiet night. “And, well, I'm all out.” I paused, my eyes locking with his. “I was hoping you might have something.”

Matt smirked slightly, leaning against the doorframe. “I thought you quit,” he remarked, a hint of amusement in his voice. I gave him a firm glare, my voice firm.

“I'm not here for small talk,” I snapped, my eyes meeting his. “I just need a quick pick-up, pay you, and leave. That's it. Don't get any ideas.”

Matt chuckled, his eyes scanning my face as he spoke. “Well, you showed up at my house in the middle of the night,” he said, a hint of teasing in his voice. “You can't blame me for being surprised. I figured we might at least exchange a few words.”

I took a deep breath, my patience wearing thin.

“Matt, please,” I pleaded, my voice weary. “I'm exhausted, I can't do this right now. I just want to grab what I need and go home. I'm desperate for a good night's sleep.”

Matt chuckled, pushing himself off the door frame and gesturing for me to come in. “Alright, alright,” he said, his tone slightly amused. “Come in, then.”

I entered his house, my body tense and my mind still racing. The familiar surroundings brought back a wave of memories, but I pushed them out of my mind. I was here for one thing and one thing only.

I followed Matt into the living room, my eyes darting around the space. The room was cozy and familiar, but I felt out of place. Matt gestured for me to take a seat on the couch, and I sank down onto the cushions, my body feeling weary.

“I'll be right back,” Matt said, disappearing down the hallway and into his bedroom.

I sat in the silence, my mind still racing with thoughts and memories. The room felt too quiet, too empty. The minutes ticked by slowly, and I found myself feeling restless again. I fidgeted with my hands, my eyes darting around the room. Just when I was starting to wonder how much longer Matt would take, I heard footsteps approaching again.

Matt returned from his bedroom, his footsteps heavy against the hardwood floor. He looked calm and collected as he took a seat on the couch, a few feet away from where I sat.

“So,” he began, his voice casual, “what do you need?”

I met his gaze, my voice steady. “A quarter ounce should be fine,” I replied, not wanting to linger on the details. I just wanted to get what I came for and leave.

Matt looked at me, his expression still nonchalant, and chuckled softly. “Want me to pre roll them for you?” he asked, his tone casually, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

In my mind, I couldn't help but think about the past. Matt had always been good at rolling joints, his hands skillful and swift. He had this way of making them look perfect, and they seemed to smoke better too. I remembered watching him roll, his fingers moving effortlessly and the end product always being a thing of beauty.

I knew that when Matt offered to pre roll my joints, he knew damn well that I would end up watching him, admiring his skill. It was a part of the ritual, a small pleasure that came with the transaction. His hands were like magic, and it was impossible to look away.

I nodded my head, unable to resist the offer. “Yeah,” I said, my voice slightly huskier than I had intended. “That'd be nice.”

Matt chuckled, not missing the change in my voice. He got up from the couch and walked over to the table where all his supplies were laid out. I watched as he grabbed the papers, the grinder, and the rolling tray, his movements efficient and smooth.

It was as if he was in his own little world, his mind completely focused on the task at hand. I couldn't help but admire his skill and precision as he started to roll the joint, his fingers working the paper and the weed with ease.

As Matt focused on rolling the first joint, his hands working in a practiced, smooth rhythm, I couldn't help but break the silence.

“It's really quiet,” I said, my voice tinged with curiosity. “Where's Nick and Chris?”

Matt answered without looking up from his work, his tongue quickly sealing the joint with a precise lick. “They're out,” he replied, his voice casual. “Went to some party or something. Probably won't be back for a while.”

I nodded, watching as he moved on to the next joint, his dexterous fingers working quickly. The sound of paper and weed being ground and rolled was the only sound in the room, along with our steady breaths.

It was almost soothing, the repetitive motions and the familiar scent of weed. I glanced at Matt, taking in the slight furrow in his brow as he concentrated on the task at hand. He was like a damn maestro, a master of his craft.

I couldn't help but ask, my curiosity getting the better of me. “How come you didn't go?” I inquired, my voice soft and low.

Matt sealed the second joint with another precise lick, his eyes meeting mine for a moment before he looked back down at his work.

“You know I don't do parties,” he said, his tone nonchalant. “Too much noise, too many people. I prefer my own company.”

I chuckled softly, realizing the irony of my question. “Right,” I said, my voice tinged with a hint of amusement. “I forgot you prefer solitude.”

I took a moment to reposition myself, shifting on the couch until I was comfortable. I placed my arms on the headrest, my head resting on them as I watched Matt across the room. The L shape of the couch allowed me a clear view of him as he continued rolling the joints.

I couldn’t help but speak my thought aloud, letting the words slip out before I could censor myself. “You know, it’s one of the things I always admired about you,” I said, my voice soft and honest.

There was no use denying it now. It was true. Matt’s preference for solitude and his ability to find contentment in his own company was something I had always found admirable. In a world where everyone seemed to be constantly seeking company, Matt’s self-sufficiency was a breath of fresh air.

As he sealed the third joint, his hands moving deftly, I continued to watch him, my head still resting on my arms. I couldn’t help but feel a pang of nostalgia as I remembered all the times we had spent like this, him rolling joints and me observing, both of us comfortably silent.

The words slipped out before I could stop them, my voice filled with a mixture of emotions. “Why didn't you call, Matt?” I blurted out, my tone laced with longing and regret.

Matt freezes, his hands pausing mid-roll. He sets the half-rolled joint down on the table, his movements deliberate and slow. He leans back against the edge of the table, his fingertips gripping the edge of the surface. His back is tense, his shoulders hunching ever so slightly.

The room falls silent, the weight of my question hanging in the air. I can feel the tension between us, thick and palpable. I know I’ve crossed a line, bringing up the past and stirring up memories that we both had left behind. But something in me had compelled me to ask, a desperate need to know why he hadn’t reached out to me.

Matt's voice is quiet, his grip on the edge of the table tightening. “I just thought you needed space,” he says gently, his eyes meeting mine across the room. “I didn't want to push you or make things worse.”

The simple admission hangs in the air, the truth of his words making my heart ache. I had wanted space, yes, but in my silence I hadn’t realized how much I had missed his presence, his calm voice and steady demeanor.

Matt lets out a small sigh, his grip on the table loosening slightly. “Trust me,” he replies, his voice tinged with regret. “I tried to reach out, to make things right. But I couldn't forgive myself for what happened, and I didn't want to put you in a position where you were forced to forgive me.”

Matt takes a deep breath, his eyes downcast as he continues. “I was in a bad place,” he says, his voice quieter now. “And what I did to you… using you like a toy, when you were something special to me. I couldn’t see it then, couldn’t appreciate what I had. The addiction had its claws too deep into me.”

I nodded, a silent acknowledgement of his words. Matt's voice is soft and sincere as he continues.

“Our argument that night made me realize what I had lost,” he admits, his eyes still avoiding mine. “Since then, I've given up on the hard drugs and stuck with weed instead. It was tough, a rough road, but it's been worth it.”

Matt pushes himself off the table, his movements fluid and deliberate. He walks towards me, his steps silent as he approaches. I continue to look up at him as he places his hands down on either side of me.

“You don't need weed to help you,” he says, his voice a low murmur in the closeness. “You're just inside your head a lot, and you don't know how to shut it off.”

I couldn't argue against his words, because Matt had hit the nail on the head. I had always been prone to overthinking, my mind a never-ending whirlwind that refused to quiet down. It was as if he could see straight into the depths of my being, knowing me better than I knew myself.

I hated how accurately he had summed up my struggle, how easily he had picked apart my thoughts and laid them bare. It was both irritating and endearing, how well he understood me despite our months apart.

Matt's eyes hold a mixture of pain, regret, and longing as he gazes down at me. His voice is earnest and pleading as he speaks, his words ringing with sincerity.

“I’m sorry for everything,” he says, his voice slightly shaky. “I’m sorry it took me 5 months to apologize. I don’t want you to forgive me, I don’t deserve to be forgiven. I’m a bad person.”

Without thinking, I reach up to bring him into a kiss, my hand threading through his soft locks - a familiar sensation that I had missed dearly.

We slowly pull away, our lips reluctantly parting, yet our faces remaining close. I look up at him, my voice soft and earnest, as I speak.

“You're not a bad person,” I say, my hand still cradling the back of his head. “You just had a rough time.”

Matt's gaze locks with mine, his eyes swimming with emotion. When he speaks, his voice is raw and filled with vulnerability.

“I missed you,” he whispers, his thumb gently brushing against my jawline.

I can feel my heart swell at his words, a mixture of emotions swirling through me. I had missed him too, more than I cared to admit. The months apart had been a painful reminder of just how deeply he had become rooted in my life, and just how much his absence had left a hole in me.

I looked up at him, my eyes meeting his, their depths filled with a mixture of pain, love, and forgiveness. “I missed you too,” I whispered back, my voice barely above a breath.

Matt's hands grip my hips as he effortlessly lifts me up from the couch, my legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. Without breaking our kiss, he carries me across the room and down the hallway towards his room. The hunger and desire in our kiss grow with each step, and by the time we reach his bedroom, we're pawing at each other like we can't get close enough.

He gently sets me down on the bed, his body following closely as he hovers over me. The kiss deepens, our tongues hungrily seeking each other, and his hands begin to wander, running up and down my sides and slipping under my shirt.

His touch ignites a trail of fire against my skin, and I arch my back, pressing my body closer to his. In that moment, nothing else mattered but the feel of his hands on my body and the heat of his skin against mine. The past months of separation faded into the background, replaced by the pure sensation of being with him again. I wanted him, needed him, and was willing to surrender to the storm of emotions and physicality between us.

There was no denying it— I was powerless against him. Despite the hurtful things that had happened between us, I couldn't resist his touch, couldn't deny the pull I felt towards him. I wanted him close, wanted to feel the weight of his body against mine, to have his hands on me, to lose myself in the sensations he stirred within me. I would let him do anything, give him anything he wanted if it meant having him near.

Matt breaks away from the kiss and begins to trail his lips down my neck, his kisses hot and urgent. He nips at my skin, his teeth grazing against my pulse point, his tongue soothing the pain afterwards. I shiver at the sensations, my hands gripping his shoulders, my breath coming in short gasps.

He kisses further down my neck, his hands gripping my hips, and I arch my back, offering myself to him. His mouth finds a sensitive spot, and he sucks on it gently, his teeth biting down just enough to send a jolt of pleasure through me.

“Matt...” I moan, my fingers digging into his shoulders.

His hands trail down to my thighs, slowly sliding down my sweats. I part my legs for him, inviting him to touch me. He chuckles softly against my neck, knowing that he has me wrapped around his finger.

His touch is gentle at first, his fingers slowly caressing my inner thighs. He takes his time, enjoying the way my breath hitches with anticipation. “Please...” I whisper, my voice barely audible. He smirks, knowing that I'm begging for him.

He slides my underwear to the side, his fingers tracing the length of my folds. I'm already wet for him, my body aching for release. He slips a finger inside me, Pumping it in and out slowly, his palm grazing against my most sensitive spot.

“You're so wet,” he whispers, his breath hot against my ear. He adds another finger, filling me up even more. I moan loudly, my hips bucking against his hand. He knows just how to touch me to drive me wild. “Nobody is here, be as loud as you want to be, Sweetheart”

His fingers curl inside me, finding that spot that makes my eyes roll back in my head. His mouth latches onto my neck, sucking and biting as his fingers pump in and out of me. I'm so close, my breathing growing ragged, my hands gripping his shoulders tightly.

I reach down and grab onto his wrist, my nails digging into his skin as my orgasm crashes over me. “Matt...oh god, Matt...” I moan, my body convulsing in his arms. He continues to finger me through my orgasm, drawing it out as long as possible.

He pulls his hand out of my pants, leaving me feeling empty. But then he reaches for the hem of my sweats and underwear, pulling them both down my legs in one swift motion. I lift my hips to help him, my body still tingling from the aftermath of my orgasm.

He buries his face between my legs, his nose pressing against my heat as he spreads my lips apart with his thumbs. I gasp as his tongue dives into my pussy, licking up every drop of my juices. He pushes my legs back over his shoulders, giving him full access to feast on me.

I reach down and tangle my fingers in his hair, holding on for dear life as his mouth works its magic on me. His tongue delves deep inside, curling up to hit that magical spot. I grind against his face, shamelessly riding his mouth as the pleasure builds again. “Matt...”

“Oh god, Matt...” I moan, my body writhing beneath him as his tongue works tirelessly on me. He brings me right to the edge, only to back off and start all over again. I'm a moaning, begging mess, completely at his mercy. “Please...”

“Please what, baby?” he murmurs against my flesh, his breath hot on my soaked skin. “Please...please don't stop...I'm so close...” I beg, my hands fisting in his hair. He hums against me, the vibrations sending me spiraling out of control. “Matt!”

With a final swipe of his tongue, he sends me hurtling over the edge. I shout his name, my back arching off the bed as waves of pleasure crash over me. He keeps going, drawing out my release until I'm a quivering, boneless mess beneath him.

He finally lifts his head, his face glistening with my juices. I watch through hazy eyes as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “You taste so fucking good,” he growls, crawling up my body. I can feel his hard cock pressing against my thigh.

He catches my lips in a searing kiss, allowing me to taste myself on his mouth. As we kiss, I reach down and unbuckle his belt, then slip my hand into his pants to wrap my fingers around his thick, hard length. He groans into my mouth, his hips jerking forward.

I start stroking him, my small hand moving up and down his shaft. He breaks the kiss to throw his head back, his eyes rolling shut as he fucks my hand. “Fuck, yeah...just like that,” he grits out, his fingers digging into my hip.

His movements become more urgent, his hips snapping forward as he thrusts into my hand. I tighten my grip, loving the way his face contorts with pleasure. He suddenly pauses, his breath hitching. “Not like this,” he rasps. “I need to be inside you.”

He grabs my wrist and pulls my hand out of his pants, then shoves his own pants and underwear down his hips. His erection springs free, curving up against his abdomen.

He reaches for the hem of my shirt and pulls it up and over my head, tossing it aside. He quickly dispenses with his own shirt, revealing his toned chest. He leans down to kiss me again, his hands roaming over my bare skin. “No bra? You’re insane.”

He chuckles against my mouth, his hands reaching up to cup my bare breasts. “You're killing me, you know that?” He breaks the kiss to trail his lips down my neck and chest, pausing to lavish attention on each peak. I arch against him, my fingers tangling in his hair.

“Matt...” I whimper as he sucks one hard peak into his mouth, his hand squeezing and massaging my other breast. He lavishes attention on each breast in turn, bringing them to hardened peaks before moving back down my body.

He kisses and caresses every inch of my skin, making me squirm with need. When he settles between my thighs, I wrap my legs around his waist, my heels digging into his backside. He lines himself up with my opening and slowly pushes inside. We both moan at the sensation.

He takes his time, gently rocking his hips as he gradually buries himself to the hilt. Once fully sheathed, he pauses and leans down to kiss me. “You okay, baby?” he murmurs. I nod, my nails scoring his back. “More than okay. Please move...please...”

He starts to move, his hips rocking slowly at first and then picking up speed. He thrusts deep and hard, hitting all the right spots inside me. I meet him thrust for thrust, our bodies moving in perfect sync. The bed creaks and shakes with the force of our lovemaking.

As he continues to thrust into me, a sharp pinch of pain mixes with the pleasure. It's been months since we last did this, and my body has clearly forgotten just how big he is. I gasp, my nails digging into his back. “Fuck...it hurts,”

He pauses mid-thrust, his eyes filled with concern. “Want me to slow down?” he asks. “Or maybe stop?” I shake my head, wrapping my legs tighter around his waist. “No...just...give me a sec...you're just so big...”

I take a deep breath, trying to relax my body and adjust to his size. “It's been a while since I hooked up with anyone,” I admit, my cheeks flushing. “And you were my last...so my body forgot how big you were.”

He smirked, brushing a strand of hair out of my face. “Good,” he murmurs. “Then maybe I should remind you.” He begins to move again, his hips slowly pumping as he gradually eases in and out of me. The pain fades, replaced by warmth and pleasure.

I arch against him, my nails scoring his back as the sensations build inside me. “More...” I whimper, wrapping my legs tighter around his waist. He responds by quickening his pace, his thrusts becoming deeper and more intense. The sound of our bodies slapping together fills the room.

His breathing grows ragged, his face buried in the crook of my neck as he pistons his hips back and forth. “You...feel...so...good...” he pants between thrusts. I can feel the pressure inside me building, coiling tight like a spring ready to snap. “Fuck, Matt...”

I grip his head, my fingers tangled in his hair as he pounds into me harder and faster. My vision starts to blur, the room spinning as he hits that spot inside me just right. “Ah! Matt! Matt, please!” I cry out, my voice hoarse from screaming his name.

He buries his face in my neck, his hot breath sending shivers down my spine as he speaks in a guttural tone. “Fuck, you're so tight...so fucking tight around my cock. I'm gonna fuck you until you can't walk...until you can't think...”

“...Your pussy is the only one I care about, the only one I craved for. I missed your sweet little cries, your desperate pleas for mercy...I missed fucking you senseless until you passed out from exhaustion...I missed being the only one who gets to hear you scream my name...”

“You're mine, and only mine. No one else gets to touch you, to hear your beautiful voice beg for more...no one else gets to see your face twist in pleasure...That's my right, my privilege...and I've missed it so much...” With each word, he thrusts into me harder, his voice growing darker, more possessive.

I'm a moaning, writhing mess beneath him, my body completely his to command. My back arches off the bed as he grinds against me, his hips rolling in a circle as he hits that sweet spot deep inside. “Oh god, Matt! Yes! More! Please, more!”

He responds to my begging by capturing my mouth in a searing kiss, swallowing my cries as he increases his pace. His body slams into mine, each thrust punctuated by a sharp slap of skin against skin. He tears his mouth away from mine, his jaw clenched. “Louder...”

“I want to hear you scream my name for the whole neighborhood. I want them to know who's making you beg for mercy...who's making you fall apart...only me” His hands wrap around my thighs, tilting my hips to take him even deeper. “Matt! Matt, it's too much!”

His answer is to grab my ankles and pull my legs up to my chest, completely changing the angle of his thrusts. The new position has him hitting my g-spot with every stroke, sending me hurtling towards another orgasm. “NO! STOP! I CAN'T...OH FUCK, MATT!”

He grins mischievously, his eyes locked onto mine as he continues to pound into me mercilessly. “You can take it, sweetheart...You can take all of me...Look at me,”

I force my eyes open, meeting his intense gaze as he drives into me. “See how hard you make me? See how much I love fucking you?” His thumb presses against my clit, sending electric shocks through my body.

The combination of his thrusts and his thumb is too much, and I come apart with a scream, my vision blurring as my body shakes with the force of my orgasm. Matt keeps thrusting through my contractions, his own release approaching. “Fuck, fuck, FUCK!”

I reach out and grab his wrist, my nails digging into his skin as another wave of pleasure washes over me. “Matt...I...I can't...” I pant, my body overwhelmed by the intense stimulation. He leans down, his lips brushing against mine as he speaks.

“You can...”

“...And you will...Now, hold on tight...” With that, he begins to move faster, his hips slamming against mine as he chases his own release. The sound of our bodies colliding fills the room, along with our labored breaths and desperate moans.

“Fuck...I need you to ride me...” He gruffly pulls out of me, flipping us over so that I'm straddling him. His hands grasp my hips, lifting me up and guiding me back down onto his cock. “Ride me, baby...”

He leans back against the headboard, his hands gripping my thighs as he watches me intently. I slowly rise and fall on his lap, my hands resting on his chest for balance. His eyes flutter closed as I pick up the pace, his head tilting back against the headboard. “Just like that...”

His hands squeeze my thighs, his fingers flexing against my skin as he tries to guide my movements. “Oh god, Y/N...You're gonna make me lose it...” He lets his head fall forward, his gaze locked onto where our bodies join. “Look at you...taking me so deep...”

I whimper, my nails digging into his chest as I continue to ride him. The sight of my body sliding up and down his cock is incredibly erotic, and I can feel my own arousal growing again. “Touch yourself,” he commands, his voice tight with impending release.

I reach down between my legs, my fingers finding my clit. I start rubbing it in tight circles, the sensation combining with the feeling of his cock inside me pushing me closer and closer to another orgasm. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I chant, my hips bucking wildly against his.

Matt brings his hand down on top of mine, pressing my fingers harder against my flesh. “Come on, sweetheart...show me what you can do...just like that...” His voice is low and commanding, pushing me closer to the edge. “Matt...it's too much...”

Matt increases the pressure, his hand moving my fingers in even faster circles. I arch my back, screaming in ecstasy as the pleasure becomes almost too much to bear. I hold onto his thighs, my nails digging into his skin as I lose control. “MATT! FUCK!”

He slides his hands up my body, resting them on my waist as he leans in, his mouth hovering over my breast. His breath fans over my skin, making me shiver. He sucks a nipple into his mouth, his tongue swirling around the hardened peak as he slams into me from below.

I bring my hands up to rest on top of the headboard, gripping it tightly as Matt pounds into me. My head falls back, my hair cascading down my back as he continues to devour my breasts.

Matt looks up at me, his eyes locked on mine as he continues to fuck me. He pulls back slightly, his mouth leaving my breast with a soft pop. “Look at me,” he commands, his voice husky with desire. I meet his gaze, my eyes glassy with pleasure.

He brings me into a passionate kiss, his tongue tangling with mine as he continues to move inside me. I bring my hand up to his hair, my fingers threading through the brown strands as I lose myself in the moment. “Y/N...” he whispers against my lips, his voice tight with impending release.

As he whispers my name, I melt at the sound, my heart skipping a beat. I loved how he says it, how his voice cracks slightly with emotion, how his lips form the words perfectly. It's like music to my ears, and I craved hearing it more and more with each passing day.

The way he says my name...it's different coming from him. It's passionate, full of need and desire. It's like he's branding me as his, claiming me in the most intimate way possible. And I love it. I love how it makes me feel special, cherished, desired.

Our kiss becomes more heated, our mouths devouring each other as if we can't get enough. His hands grip my hips tightly, his fingers digging into my flesh as he continues to thrust into me. I moan into his mouth, my cries muffled by his kiss.

Matt's movements become more urgent, his hips jerking up to meet mine with each thrust. He pulls away from the kiss, his head thrown back as he moans loudly. “Fuck, I'm close...” His words come out broken, his voice tight with desire.

His hands tighten on my hips, his fingers digging painfully into my flesh as he thrusts into me one last time. He lets out a low growl, his whole body tensing as he finds his release. “Fuck! Y/N!” he moans my name, his voice filled with passion and devotion.

He releases into me, his warmth filling me completely. But with how full I am, some of it spills out. He lets out a shaky breath, his body still trembling with aftershocks. He lays his head back against the headboard, his eyes fluttering closed. “Oh god…”

I giggle softly, seeing Matt so spent and relaxed. His brunette hair is damp with sweat, making it look even darker. The damp strands stick to his forehead, accentuating his chiseled features. He looks so handsome like this, all relaxed and boneless from our passionate encounter.

I shift slightly, intending to move off him, but Matt's hands fly to my hips, stopping me. “No, no baby don’t move,” His voice is low and lazy, his eyes still closed.

I chuckle and lower myself, kissing his jawline before moving to his neck. I mark him with my kisses, my love bites, claiming him as mine. He moans softly, his hands tightening on my hips as he enjoys the attention. “Y/N...” he whispers, his eyes still closed.

His hands roam over my back, his touch gentle and soothing. He runs his fingers through my hair, tugging lightly. I continue to mark his neck and jaw, loving the way he moans my name. “Baby, please...I can't take much more...”

His breathing hitches as I continue to kiss and bite his neck. His grip on my hips tightens, his fingers digging into my flesh. “Y/N, please...baby, you've gotta stop...I can't...I'm going to cum again..” His voice is hoarse, his breathing uneven.

His hips jerk up against me, his hard length pulsing between my thighs. I look at him, his face flushed, his eyes closed, his lashes casting shadows on his cheeks. He looks so vulnerable, so open...and I love it.

Matt's body jerks as he cums again, his hips thrusting up against me with a desperate urgency. There's no space left inside me, so his release spills out onto the bed, a thick stream of cum coating the sheets. I giggle, feeling incredibly full, my pussy stretched to the limit.

I cup his face in my hands, peppering his lips with soft kisses. He grins, his eyes still shut, his face relaxed and content. “Mmm...I love you, sweetheart” he murmurs, his voice lazy and sleepy.

I continue to kiss him, my hands caressing his cheeks. “I love you too” I whisper against his lips. He hums contentedly, his arms wrapping around me, pulling me closer.

I continue planting gentle kisses on his lips, his nose, his cheeks, anywhere I can reach without breaking our embrace. He sighs happily, his eyes still closed, letting me shower him with affection.

Matt finally opens his eyes, looking at me with a soft, loving expression. “Come on, let's clean up.” He carefully picks me up, his hands gently supporting my waist. As he lifts me off him, our combined juices spill out, coating his abdomen and the bed sheets.

He carries me to the bathroom, setting me down on the counter. He grabs a cloth and wipes himself clean, making sure to remove every trace of our intimacy. Once he's done, he turns his attention to me, gently wiping between my legs with a warm cloth.

He turns on the shower, testing the water temperature before helping me in. “I'll join you right now,” he says, his voice gentle. “Let me just put the sheets in the washer and put new ones on the bed.” He gives me a quick kiss before leaving the bathroom.

I step under the spray, sighing happily as the warm water cascades down my body. I lean against the wall, watching as Matt hurries back into the bathroom a few minutes later. He steps into the shower with me, pulling me into his arms. “Mmm...the bed's fresh now”

He tenderly washes my hair and body, taking extra care to clean between my thighs. He rinses me off, his touch gentle and loving. He steps out of the shower and wraps me in a fluffy towel, drying me off thoroughly. “Come on, let's get you into some clothes.”He picks up our discarded clothes from the floor, balled up and thrown haphazardly. He walks across the room to the closet where the washer and dryer are tucked away. He throws our clothes into the washer, starting a load.

He rummages through his dresser, pulling out a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants. “Here, these should fit you.”He helps me into his clothes, his touch gentle.

He picks up our discarded clothes from the floor, balled up and thrown haphazardly. He walks across the room to the closet where the washer and dryer are tucked away. He throws our clothes into the washer, starting a load.

I sit on the edge of the bed, watching as Matt returns from the closet, his chest still glistening with droplets of water. He's wearing nothing but a low-slung towel around his hips. I admire his physique, his broad chest, lean muscles, and toned abs.

He walks over to his dresser and begins to sort through the drawers, picking out a pair of grey sweats and a black hoodie. As he does, he hears me speak up from the bed. “I always loved how you looked when you came out of the shower with a towel wrapped around your waist, by the way.”

He pauses mid-movement, his head halfway through the hoodie. “Oh really?” he asks, a playful smile tugging at his lips. He finishes pulling the hoodie over his head, his damp hair peeking out from the hood.

“I always admired you whenever we had hookups back then each time made me fall more in love with you” I admited. Matt steps closer to me, standing between my knees. He reaches down and gently tilts my chin up, forcing me to meet his gaze. “Is that so?”he murmurs.

I nod, my heart racing in my chest. Matt's eyes sparkle with amusement as he leans in, his smirk against my lips. “Good thing you'll be seeing me more often now, so admire how much you want,” he teases, his warm breath fanning over my face.

I can feel his smile against my lips, and I'm drowning in his eyes. “More often?” I repeat, my voice barely above a whisper. Matt nods, his lips brushing against mine gently. “A lot more often,” he whispers back, his hands resting on my knees.

“Because you're mine now,” Matt says, his voice low and possessive. “Something I should've said a long time ago.” His grip on my knees tightens, pulling me closer to him. “And I won't be so blind this time.”

I gasp softly at his words, and Matt takes advantage, pressing his lips to mine in a searing kiss. His hands slide from my knees to my thighs, his touch firm and gentle. I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him closer as our kiss deepens.

We break apart, our breaths heavy and entwined. Matt rests his forehead against mine, his eyes fluttering shut. “Let's get some sleep,” he murmurs, his voice hoarse. He steps back, releasing his hold on me, and offers me his hand. “Come on.”

As we're settling into bed, the door to Matt's room bursts open. “Matt, what did I tell you about leaving the weed out?!” Chris, exclaims, storming into the room. Matt groans, flopping back onto his pillow.

As Chris is about to launch into another lecture, he notices I was there with Matt. “Y/N… nice seeing you back around here. Did my dumbass brother apologize for what he did?” he asks, crossing his arms. Matt groans louder.

“Yeah, he did,” I responded. “Don't worry, if he hadn't, you wouldn't be seeing me anywhere near this house.” Matt grumbles something under his breath. Chris smirks. “Good, thought I was going to lose my best friend because my shitty brother can’t think about anyone’s feelings except his own”

Chris says, still smirking. “Glad to see you two worked things out.” He starts to leave the room, then pauses at the doorway. “And Matt?”

Matt looks over at him. “Don't leave the weed out if you're going to be fucking for so long, guessing that’s what you both did to make up” Chris says, wagging his eyebrows suggestively.

Matt sits up and glares at Chris. “Chris, get the fuck out!” he yells. “Alright alright no need to yell it’s 5 in the morning, Goodnight or should I say Goodmorning.” And with that, he pulls the door shut behind him. Matt looks over at me, rolling his eyes.

I look back at Matt, stunned. “We fucked for two hours?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper. Matt chuckles, pulling me back into his arms. “It would seem so,” he says, nuzzling my neck.

I sigh contentedly, my hands finding their way into Matt's hair as we drift off to sleep. His breathing evens out, and his body relaxes around mine. Outside, the birds begin to sing, signaling the start of a new day.

a/n: THANK YOU FOR 300 FOLLOWERS!!

THIS IS A MORE LONGER ONE-SHOT THAN MY OTHERS

SO I HOPE YOU ENJOYED

I APPRECIATE YOU ALL THANK YOU AGAIN !!!

— 𝑮𝑯𝑶𝑺𝑻 ♡︎

[olderthannetfic]

I accidentally killed my own desire to write, and I need some advice. To be really blunt about it, what's the point of writing? When I would spend lots of time laboring over making a good story with a plot and characters who were in-character and connecting all the dots narratively so payoffs were satisfying, my reward was dead silence and virtually no clicks. I posted some mindless smut to my side account one day and got more hits in a day than most of my other works combined got in a year. I know, I know. "Write for ~*~yourself~*~" is the common response. It's the "be yourself!" of writing. It's supposed to be a magical phrase that'll make everything okay. But... I don't like knowing that something I spend months working on won't be read by anyone while something I write in a car while bored got thousands of clicks. I don't like making something I'm proud of and then no one ever looks at it. That's not fun for me. It's not fulfilling.

For a solid decade, I've tried to ignore how the level of interactivity in fandom is falling. Fewer comments. Fewer kudos. No comments in the bookmarks. You put your tumblr and Discord in the AN and get a handful of asks and one person who adds you, talks to you twice and then ghosts you. Most of the comments are "well, actuallys", made even more annoying by them being wrong as opposed to actually correcting an error. I avoid fandom drama, wank, and infighting. I don't engage with things I know will make me unhappy. I try to be happy over in my own little corner. I comment on every single work I read. I want people to enjoy fandom. I used to.

Some dumb smut I wrote in 40 minutes gets five times the hits of the writing I'm most proud of, and it gets it in just under three months. I am not a great smut writer. I haven't stumbled onto an incredible talent I had that makes it so the issue is that I'm so amazing my smut brings all the boys to the yard. People just don't like what I write and put effort into. It's very likely that despite 20 years of writing fic, I suck at writing. And people enjoy my writing most when they don't have to put up with anything substantial and can just skip to the sex.

So for the last eight months, when I write, I just sort of give up. Close the Word doc without saving. No one will read this. No one cares about this. There is no fan eagerly awaiting every update like I await updates from my favorite authors. There's not even someone saying, "update soon!" Close the Word doc. Delete old WIPs. There's no point. I do not tell stories worth reading. I used to. In the FFN days people genuinely enjoyed my work. I'd never have had an opportunity to do the 'I won't update until I get 3 reviews' thing because getting that many on a chapter was usually something I'd do overnight. Post before bed. Wake up. Read the reviews before school. I peaked in high school, I guess.

And now I'm just sort of lost. I still have lots of ideas. Ideas for fics fall into my head all the time. That's never been a problem. What I don't have is any motivation to write them. What's the point of writing? If no one else is reading, I guess the point would be so I could go back and read my own story and have fun with it. Write for myself. But I can review the story and have fun with it in my head without writing it down. It's substantially faster and more importantly, isn't incredibly depressing.

So, at the risk of definitely being calld the second-coming of True Art Anon or a troll or validation-seeking or haha mentally ill haha... what's the point of writing?

--

Okay, so write porn in a car while you're bored.

Look, you can whine all you want about my response, but what you've written here is blatantly about depression.

Lots of people in fandom are still interacting. And no, it isn't just on fics that are objectively written to some pro fiction standard or whatever. Teenagers still breathlessly review poorly spelled cracky masterpieces about this year's big anime and so forth.

Yes, there may be reasons why you in particular are in a slump when it comes to fandom friendships or "plz update" comments. We can talk about that. But this ask is all gloom about fandom in general. That's not realism: that's you having a problem.

--

As for why a person should write: because the actual hours you spend doing the writing are fun.

If they aren't pleasurable in some way, find another hobby.

--

But if you want an answer to the age old "Why did my 5 minute fic get 1000000x more asspats", I've seen meta about this for literally decades.

The most likely reason is that the fic we write quickly and without much thought often feels fresher and more fun. The things we labor over endlessly can feel overworked. Even in cases where they don't, they're often heavier subject matter or more niche subject matter. On top of all that, we just care more, so even a high level of feedback doesn't really feel like enough for the effort and care we put in.

--

Do you really need me to tell you why you don't feel the same as in high school when things were fresh and new?

Go read up on combatting burnout or dealing with post-college anxiety or managing stress in a dead-end job in your 30s or finding meaning in your 40s or whatever is going on.

Everyone goes through fallow periods in fandom and in life.

Feeling reinvigorated has to do with internal factors and some general life circumstance stuff. It doesn't have that much to do with number of kudos. That's just the surface trigger for a mood that was already there.

[hard-core-super-star]

Can i ask one for Kate Bishop. One where kate and reader's are best friends .they sleep together after being drunk. R is hopelessly in love with her. Everybody including kate knows this but it's like an un spoken thing.katie says doesn't see r like that because obviously she's afraid of losing the friendship if the relationship fails. Tells r that night was a one tym thing . After sometimes start seeing somebody so r will get the idea. So much angst ,heart breaks ,Kate being an idiot ,r being lovesick puppy .and a Happy ending .☺️ Its okay if you can't .Thank you ♥

an inch away from more than just friends [K.Bishop]

pairing: kate bishop x reader

summary: falling in love with your best friend is supposed to be easy. unfortunately, neither you nor kate are particularly good at talking about your feelings.

warnings: a complete mess of fluff, smut, angst, and idiots in love; kate is HORRIBLE at acknowledging her feelings; drunken hookup in a storage closet {lots of grinding + teasing; r is a brat and kate is annoyed but turned on; small bits of dirty talk}

wordcount: 4k

a/n: I'M ALIVE! sorry for not posting much on here, i've been spending a lot of this past month working on my vampire!kate story so inspiration has been quite limited. i'm thinking about posting more short drabbles but idk how to format them 😅 anyway, i hope you're all doing well and i hope you enjoy <3

* * * * * * *

You weren't sure how you had ended up here. You hated parties. Especially ones thrown by rich people who had nothing better to do than spend a ridiculous amount of money on expensive booze and shitty food.

Not to mention, this particular party was being hosted in some skyscraper in downtown New York, which meant no matter how badly you wanted to escape the bustling atmosphere, there was nowhere else to go. Even the balconies that littered the outside were subject to the nonstop sounds of traffic.

At least it was better than being inside and having to sit through endless small talk about things you didn't understand.

A familiar voice pulls you out of your thoughts as you lean against the railing, silently watching the cars drive by on the street below you. "There you are."

You turn your head and give Kate a small smile. "Hey."

The archer approaches you, a certain bounce in her step that isn't coming from her normal bubbly personality. 

While you weren't the biggest fan of these types of parties, Kate somehow thrived in them. Sure, she could be awkward most times, and she had a terrible habit of saying the wrong thing at the wrong time, but she was charming. And as much as she hated the rich men who she had to rub elbows with all night, she understood them.

She'd grown up in this life while you...well, you were an outsider. Someone who didn't fit in, no matter how many expensive outfits the young CEO bought you or how many people she argued with.

The only thing you two could agree on was that the best part of these events was the free alcohol.

"How long have you been out here?" Kate asks as she joins you, her side pressing against yours and giving away how tipsy she already is.

"Like twenty minutes," you reply. "It was getting too stuffy in there."

She laughs and you allow yourself to admire her jawline and the way the city lights bounce across her skin. "Tell me about it. I swear I've had the same conversation with everyone."

"I don't know why you still bother coming to these things."

"It's good for the company, I guess," she says with a shrug. "And it gives me an excuse to get dressed up with you."

You roll your eyes at her, hating the way your heart instantly skips a beat at her words. She always gets extra flirty when she drinks. If you were more of an optimist, you might even believe her words had some sort of truth to them. 

"You're an idiot."

She makes a face at you, her features a mixture of annoyance and amusement. "You always say that."

"Because it's true," you say.

"Whatever," she huffs.

The two of you stand there for a few minutes, basking in the closeness of your bodies. It's a small thing, but it's moments like these that remind you just how deep your feelings for the archer run.

The buzz from the alcohol in your system leads you to rest your head on her shoulder without a second thought. Her arm wraps around you in an instant and it's not until that moment that you realize how cold you are.

"Can we leave yet?" You ask in a soft voice. It's a little embarrassing how desperate you are to be away from the bustling party.

"Almost," she replies. "I think you owe me a dance."

You groan, already dreading the looks you'll definitely get. "Do we have to?"

"Yes, we do." She gives your side an affectionate squeeze before pulling away from you. "Just one dance, and then we can leave."

You know better than to trust her words, but you can't pretend dancing with her doesn't sound nice. Clearly, Kate isn't the only one with lowered inhibitions right now.

"Fine," you roll your eyes but reach out for her hand.

Her fingers interlock with yours, and she leads the way to the makeshift dance floor. Thankfully, most people seem too busy in their own conversations to pay attention to the dancing couples...and you and Kate.

It fills you with more bitterness than you'd like, but you try not to dwell on it. It's easier said than done...until her hands land on your waist and pull you close to her. 

"You can come closer, sweetheart, I don't bite."

A nervous laugh escapes you. Mainly because you've listened to enough of her superhero stories to know for a fact she does bite, but also because getting closer to her is the last thing you should do right now.

She makes it far too easy to do, though, so you give in and wrap your arms around her neck.

The two of you start swaying to the soft music being played by the small group of musicians at the front of the room. It's hard not to spend the entire time admiring her features from this distance and as much as you try to ignore it, it's impossible to deny the way your heart flutters in your chest every time you make eye contact with her.

Your silence seems to surprise her, considering the way her eyebrows furrow together. "You okay?"

You nod and try to ignore how close your faces are. "Yeah, just...thinking."

That seems to get her attention and her concerned look turns into a slightly mischievous smile. "Oh yeah? About what?"

"Wouldn't you love to know?" You reply, hoping your attempt at teasing her will help distract her.

It doesn't work and instead of moving on, she wordlessly pulls you closer, her smile turning into a smirk when your eyes widen from the sudden proximity. "Come on, sweetheart, don't get shy on me now."

"You're annoying."

"Is that why you've been staring at my lips this whole time?"

Her words catch you off-guard, but they're not exactly far-fetched. The alcohol in your system mixed with having her so close only equals a long list of bad ideas. You can't deny how enticing those ideas sound, though.

You somehow manage to find your voice long enough to throw her observation back at her. "I think you're projecting, Katie."

"So you don't want to kiss me?"

She's toying with you, you know she is because you've seen her do it countless times, but you can't find it in yourself to really care. You know you shouldn't do it. You try to remind yourself that you're both drunk and simply trying to rile each other up for fun.

That no matter what happens, it won't mean anything. At least, not to her.

The longer you think about it, though, the less the potential consequences matter to you.

"I do," you reply, your voice barely above a whisper. "But only because it's the only way to shut you up."

You expect her to laugh at you and change the topic, but, of course, she doesn't. Because the only thing Kate loves more than annoying you is taking you by surprise.

In an instant, she closes the distance between your faces, her lips meeting yours in a borderline hesitant kiss. You're certain you've never seen her so nervous before. It's strange but endearing.

More than that, it helps distract you from how nervous you are.

She pulls away from you with a smile so bright that it makes your mind swim. "I guess you were right, kissing me does shut me up."

"Is that your way of trying to convince me to kiss you again?" You ask, doing your best to act nonchalant.

You're not sure that it works very well, but thankfully, she makes no teasing comments about it. She simply steals all your thoughts away by kissing you again.

The fact that you're one step away from fully making out in the middle of the dance floor isn't lost on you. Kate seems to come to the same realization as you at that moment and she reluctantly pulls away from you just to grab your hand and lead you away from everyone's gaze.

You don't know where exactly she's taking you, you just know it's definitely not toward the exit. You'd love to call her out on it and act upset and yet...you don't. How can you when your curiosity is practically eating you alive?

She drags you into the first storage closet she finds, closing the door behind you and pushing you against it. The action steals your breath away, along with the rest of your coherent thoughts.

You weren't going to act like you'd never fantasized about doing this with Kate but you'd always imagined it would happen under different circumstances. Although, if you're completely honest, you can't say you're actually mad about it.

"Hi," you whisper, your eyes drifting down to her lips once more.

"Hey." Her hands find their way back to your waist as she steps forward, effectively trapping you against the door. "Are you...still okay with this? 'Cause we can just leave and act like nothing happened."

You appreciate her thoughtful words even though the fire she started within you is burning far too bright to be put out now. 

"Yeah, I'm okay," you assure her. "I don't think stopping is an option now."

Your words seem to make her hesitation disappear and her smirk instantly makes a comeback. "And why is that, darling?"

"You know why."

Kate leans in closer, one of her hands drifting down to grip your leg and lift it up until it's wrapped around her waist. "Maybe...but I want to hear you say it."

"In your dreams, sweetheart."

You feel incredibly proud of yourself until the archer pushes herself against you, creating the most wonderful friction against your center. The movement catches you off-guard and you let out an embarrassingly desperate moan at the feeling.

The brunette takes advantage of the moment and ducks down to attach her lips to your neck. "I would love to put you in your place but you are far too adorable like this."

Your head tilts back to give her more access to your skin as you struggle to put yourself together long enough to reply to her words. "I wouldn't describe this as adorable."

She chuckles against your skin, the feeling of her warm breath sending ripples of pleasure down your spine. You almost can't believe this is actually happening. For a second, you briefly wonder if you're simply dreaming.

There's no way the pressure of her body against yours isn't real, though. No way for the pleasure you're experiencing to be completely made up by you.

The hand still on your waist gives you a soft squeeze before she guides you against her. There's something slightly humiliating about grinding against her in some random, badly lit, storage closet that only adds to the intensity of the moment.

Kate seems to read your mind considering the way she moves against you, drawing out another barely supressed moan. "You're holding back, y/n/n."

Her teasing words only make you want to tease her right back. Just because you've wanted her like this for a long time doesn't mean you want to make things easy for her. Riling her up is always more fun anyway.

"Maybe you're just not as good as you think you are," you reply, hoping she won't call you out for grinding against her so desperately. 

She has no plan to make things easy on you, though, and as annoying as it is, it's also incredibly attractive. "That's not what your body is saying." 

"How can you be such a dork at a time like this?" 

"It's my talent." 

"Keep telling yourself that." 

She groans, out of annoyance rather than pleasure, but you know your slight defiance is a turn on for her. It's almost funny how someone so bratty gets such a rush out of putting other brats in their place. "I hope you know your attitude is going to cost you later." 

"Don't threaten me with a good time, Katie." 

Her hand finally makes its way up your thigh, and she cups your heated core in one quick move. "How am I the annoying one?" 

You let out a sharp gasp, your hips rocking against her hand with zero shame or hesitation. You're already so close to falling apart, the coil in your stomach embarrassingly close to snapping already. In your defense, it's been a long time since your last hookup. 

"Not so mouthy now, are you, sweetheart?" Her amusement is more than clear and, even though you'd love nothing more than to wipe the smirk off her face, you're a little preoccupied with the mounting pleasure. 

"Kate..." You whimper, attempting to pull her impossibly closer to you. "Fuck."

Her teasing energy is quickly replaced by satisfaction. Satisfaction that motivates her to speed up her movements, effectively replacing all your thoughts with the feeling of her hands on you.

"You gonna cum for me, baby?" She asks, her lips trailing a path from your neck to your jaw.

"Yeah," you reply, your voice a breathless, needy, whisper. "...please."

"Such a good girl. Go on, let me hear you fall apart for me."

Her words are exactly what you need to let go. It's a little embarrassing, and the lack of full contact makes it a little less satisfying than you'd like, but your orgasm crashes into you almost instantly. Your hands grip onto her shoulders as you ride out the waves, her soft whispers guiding you through the overwhelming sensations.

You're shaking and panting and absolutely spent after such a rush of emotions and Kate is right there, holding you close through it all. Somehow, the affection and care she's showing you feels even better than the orgasm you just had.

"You okay, baby?" She asks as she leans back just enough so your eyes can meet again.

You nod, still too shaken to find your voice. 

"You're too cute." 

Despite your breathlessness, she gives you a quick kiss, pouring far too many feelings neither of you want to think about right now into it. The alcohol must be draining from your system because you're already starting to freak out about this.

About how difficult it'll be to act like nothing happened. Like you're not completely in love with your best friend.

There's no way for you to deny it now. Hell, Kate herself can't deny it anymore either.

And yet you both try.

"Do you want to go back to my apartment?" She asks once you're able to pull away from each other.

The intention is behind her words is more than clear and it somehow manages to bring your confidence back. "Only if you let me repay the favor."

"I think we can definitely work something out," she replies with a genuine smile.

That's all you need to take her hand and drag her out of the storage closet. Her laugh rings out in your ears as you make your way to the exit.

True to your word, you spend the rest of the night returning the favor and drawing orgasm after orgasm out of Kate. It's not enough to make you believe you'll be together the way you want to and yet it's more than enough for ythe moment. 

It's more than you ever thought you'd get from her.

Unfortunately, morning comes too quickly and it brings the realization that you severely underestimated how much things would change. How quick Kate would be to sweep everything under the rug and deny it even happened.

It hurts but it's not a complete surprise considering the way the archer reacts to most things.

You manage to work through it, silencing your desires in favor of making her comfortable and keeping her in your life. It's not the healthiest thing in the world but you manage.

Your friendship only suffers for a few days before you're back to normal. No one would even notice anything if it weren't for the major heart eyes you throw her way all the time.

Everyone knows, though. Everyone cares except Kate.

Instead of talking about it like a normal person, she decides to make things worse by getting a girlfriend. You don't even know who she is and the archer doesn't give you any real details, she just mumbles something about a coffee shop and a cute dog.

You've never known Kate to be particularly reserved but she is this time. Not just that, she actively ignores you. Dodging your questions expertly and pretending there's nothing weird about how little time she spends with you.

You had always assumed it would be your feelings that ruined your friendship but Kate managed to ruin everything on her own. It's almost a skill.

Somehow, even as your heart breaks and endless questions swim around your mind, you manage to keep going. More than that, you match Kate's energy and pretend you don't even notice the change in her attitude. You're not sure who's more hurt by that but you don't even care.

You treasure the brief moments you get with her and mentally shout at her every time she cancels another movie night. Her excuses are endless. One day, she tells you she's too busy with Avengers work, the next she's too caught up with Bishop Securities.

The only thing that brings you some sense of comfort is the fact you're not the only one being lied to. Her so-called "girlfriend" gets the same excuses as you, at least that's what Yelena tells you. The Russian has no reason to lie, though, so you believe her and ignore the rising thought of making Kate jealous.

That's the only thing you're able to do: ignore Kate and the feelings you still have for her.

It works for a while...until the archer finds her way back to you.

It's the middle of the night when you hear frantic knocking on your door. You suppress your fear long enough to make it to the door, baseball bat in hand.

You open the door and come face to face with those same blue eyes you've tried not to think about for over a month. "Kate?"

"Hey," she mumbles, nervousness instantly creeping into her voice. "I, um...can I come in?"

You're tempted to say no and slam the door in her face. You're honestly half-way to doing it when you notice the way she's swaying and clutching her side."You're not drunk, are you?" You question.

Your attempt to lighten the mood falls flat but she smiles anyway. "No, I'm unfortunately sober."

You hum in response before stepping aside and letting her come in. There's a voice in the back of your head that warns you not to get caught up in the past. To keep your distance until she, at the very least, apologizes for being such a jerk to you.

Kate manages to make it to your couch without tripping while you lock your door and put the baseball bat back in its usual place. You brace yourself for the uncomfortable conversation that's bound to follow as you follow after her.

"So...what happened to you?"

Her only response for a few moments is a groan and you do your best to stifle your laughter. For someone who's the human embodiment of a golden retriever, she looks a lot like a grumpy cat right now.

"Stupid mission," she grumbles while attempting to stretch her sore muscles. "I don't know where someone can get the money for that many henchmen."

"Says the rich girl," you reply with a smirk.Kate rolls her eyes but some of the tension in her shoulders disappears. 

"Oh, shut up."

Your cross your arms over your chest before raising an eyebrow at her. "I don't think you're in any position to talk to me like that."

A barely noticeable blush spreads across her features. "Sorry," she mumbles. "I just...I've missed talking to you like this."

You wish it didn't but your heart skips a beat at her words. It's stupid considering the fact she's the one who put you guys in this situation yet there's nothing you can do about it. Your heart still belongs to her.

"Is that why you've been ignoring me lately?" You ask, unable to keep the bitterness out of your tone. "Why are you even here, anyway? I'm sure your girlfriend's worried about you."

Your words cause the smallest of changes in Kate's body language. She hunches down almost as if she's trying to sink into herself and disappear. You've seen her like this far too many times to not know how she's feeling.

"She would be if she didn't hate my guts right about now," she replies with a sigh. "Can't say I blame her, breaking up with her and leaving on a mission isn't the most mature thing to do."

"Wow, you're finally self-aware," you tease her, more out of habit that anything else. "A lot can change in a month, huh?"

The lack of annoyance in your tone allows her to relax again. As much as you might like to be petty, she seems genuinely sorry and upset. "Okay, I deserve that. I've been an asshole to you."

"Yes, you have, but it looks like karma finally caught up with you."

There's an edge of concern to your words that you can't quite hide. She doesn't seem to be in excruciating pain which hopefully means she's not badly hurt but with how stubborn she is, you wouldn't be surprised if she was blatantly hiding a gunshot wound.

Kate chuckles as she leans back against your couch, the movement allows you to search her suit for bloodstains and, thankfully, you find nothing except a couple of tears in the fabric. "Karma's a bitch..but I probably deserved it."

"Probably?" You ask.

"Okay, fine," she grumbles. "I definitely deserved it. It just...seemed like the right thing to do."

You can't hold back the scoff that leaves your lips. "On what Earth was ignoring me after hooking up with me "the right thing to do"?"

She grimaces, the words hitting her a little too hard. You feel a little bad for her even though these are simply the consequences of her own actions. "I was afraid of ruining our friendship. I didn't...I don't want to lose you, y/n. You mean too much to me."

A part of you wants to keep being petty about the whole thing but you've missed her far too much to push her away now. Even though she probably deserves it for being such an idiot.

"You have a very weird way of showing it." You finally allow yourself to close the distance between you two, walking over and taking a seat next to her.

Kate's hand instantly finds its way into yours, her head turning to look at you. There's a thin layer of tears in her eyes that tugs at your heartstrings. "I know...and I really am sorry."

"I know," you reply, giving her hand a soft squeeze. "You're my best friend, Kate, I've always known you're an idiot."

She rolls her eyes but doesn't say anything more, allowing a comfortable silence to fill the room.

There's a lot more you both still want to say and yet neither of you makes any attempt at breaking the moment. It's almost comforting how quickly you fall back together like two slightly damaged magnets.

Finally, after minutes go by, Kate allows herself to tell you the truth.

"It's you," she says, her voice barely above a whisper. "It's always been you and I'm so sorry I tried to pretend it wasn't true."

Her words bring a wave of relief, and a slight bit of annoyance that you do your best to supress. "Can you just shut up and kiss me before I kick you out?"

She laughs, a real one this time, before leaning forward and stealing your breath with a kiss.

It's not enough to fix all the damage but it's a start. And you're more than happy to flip the page with her.

[jetii]

Charting A New Course

Pairing: Tech x fem!Reader / Tech x Jedi!Reader

Words: 6,219

Tags/Warnings: fluff, hurt/comfort, kissing and cuddling, Tech being a cutie bc that’s mandatory

Summary: You and Tech adjust to your new life together, and to your new home on Pabu.

A/N: For Anne @baddest-batchers 💙 Ily and thank you so much for the inspo, your continuous support, and for being such a light in this fandom!! This is set 2-3 months after the first two installments in the Tech x Sarad series(?). Chronologically it’s part 4 since there will be another (nsfw) part out next week.

Previous Work | Next Work | Masterlist

It's strange for Tech to feel out of his depth, but the truth is, he is.

He's never been good at understanding people. Their thoughts, their actions, their feelings...they're a mystery to him. He's spent years trying to solve the puzzle, but there are too many pieces missing. Too many variables, too many unknowns.

He's given up, mostly. Decided that, sometimes, there are just things that are better left alone.

But, now, he has to try again. Because it's different. He's different.

And Sarad...

Well, Sarad is the biggest puzzle of them all.

You're the most intriguing, most confounding, most wonderful thing he's ever encountered. And he wants nothing more than to solve you. To unlock the mysteries of your heart, and to find out why you do the things you do. Why you stay.

Why you love him.

He knows, logically, that there are no simple answers. That, like the universe, your motivations are vast and complicated, and that they can't be distilled down to a single line of code. But, still, he wonders. He wonders, and he questions, and he hopes. He hopes, with a fierce desperation that surprises even him, that you'll never leave.

But, sometimes, he can't help but worry that, eventually, you will. That, one day, you'll realize that you're better off without him. That you'll grow tired of him, or bored, or frustrated, or simply change your mind. That you'll decide that the life he can offer you isn't enough. That the stars aren't worth it.

He worries, but he doesn't say anything. He's learned, through countless cycles, that the best way to solve a problem is to approach it objectively. That, sometimes, the answers aren't as clear as they seem.

So, instead, he does what he does best.

He observes.

Tech studies you, and watches you, and tries to understand. And, over time, he learns. He learns your habits, your likes and dislikes, your favorite foods and the songs you hum when you think no one's listening. He learns what makes you laugh, and what makes you angry, and what makes your eyes light up with joy. The things he never noticed, or never paid attention to, or never thought to ask about. He learns them all.

And, slowly, he begins to feel more comfortable around you. More secure.

Because, no matter how confusing you may be, you're always consistent.

You're quiet, and calm, and patient. You listen, and you watch, and you observe, just as much as he does. You understand him in a way that no one else does, and you never judge him for his oddities. You seem to appreciate them more than anything. And, sometimes, he finds himself doing things just because he knows you'll find them amusing. More so lately than ever.

He finds it curious, and slightly alarming, that he's beginning to change. That his habits are shifting, and his priorities are rearranging, and that his feelings are becoming clearer.

But, most of all, he finds it intriguing.

Because, now, when you smile, or laugh, or brush a strand of hair out of his face, he doesn't look away. He doesn't shy away from your touch, or avert his gaze. He holds it. And, when he does, his pulse quickens, and his cheeks flush, and his lips twitch upwards, almost without him noticing. He doesn't understand why, but it's become a habit, and one he doesn't mind indulging in.

You seem to notice the change, and you seem delighted by it. But, rather than question him about it, or draw attention to it, you simply smile. A small, knowing smile. One that's both pleased and mischievous, and one that makes his heart stutter.

You're smiling at him like that now. Tech knows he's been caught staring, and while it would normally annoy him, this time, he finds that he doesn't mind. In fact, he quite enjoys it.

He smiles back, a small twitch of his lips, and feels his heart beat a little faster. You're radiant, and beautiful, and his. You're his. And, somehow, the idea doesn't frighten him as much as it used to.

"What are you thinking about?" you ask, tilting your head slightly.

"You," he replies, his voice soft.

Your smile widens, and you lean in, pressing a kiss to his cheek. You reach in front of him, using your hand to push the last of the vegetables from your cutting board into the stew for him. He's been making an attempt to learn how to cook, and he's been finding it a useful distraction from his racing thoughts. Still, though, his focus isn't on the food. It's on you. Always on you.

"Any specific thoughts, or just general observations?"

"General, mostly," he replies, watching you as he stirs the mixture. "You seem happy."

"I am," you reply. "It's a good day."

"How can you tell?”

It's not a challenge. He's genuinely curious. You're always so calm, and serene, and at peace with the universe, and he's still trying to figure out how you manage it. He knows that part of it is the Force, and your connection to it, but there's more to it than that. There has to be.

"Hmmm..." You glance up at the ceiling, as if the answer is written on the wood. "It's hard to explain. I guess...I just feel it."

"That's not very scientific," he says, his lips twitching upwards. "Do you have any evidence to back up your claim?"

"None that you would accept," you chuckle. "But, I can tell. Just like you can tell when a storm is coming, or a plant needs more water. It's a feeling. An intuition."

"I see," he murmurs, his eyes drifting towards the window. It's overcast, and the wind is picking up, and the air is heavy with the scent of rain. It's the kind of day that usually has him retreating into his bunk, or burrowing into his work. The kind of day where he seeks out comfort and shelter and warmth.

"Don't worry," you say as if reading his thoughts. "We have a few hours before it starts. And the greenhouse should hold up. I reinforced the roof and walls yesterday."

"I didn't realize," he says, surprised, and he turns back to you. "I must have been distracted."

"It's alright," you assure him. "I know you were busy."

"With what?"

"Whatever was going on in that brilliant mind of yours," you say with a grin. You nudge him gently with your hip, and he feels his cheeks flush. "I didn't want to interrupt. You were so focused on whatever you were working on."

"I apologize," he murmurs. "I shouldn't have—"

"It's fine," you interrupt, placing a hand on his arm. "I know you get lost in your thoughts sometimes. It's nothing to apologize for. Besides, you needed the quiet."

He smiles at that. You always seem to know when he needs space. When his mind is too full, and his thoughts are too loud, and the only way to escape them is to lose himself in work. You've become an expert at reading his moods, and at taking care of him. And, even though it took him a while to adjust and accept it, he finds that he doesn't mind.

"Thank you," he says, his voice sincere. "You're always so thoughtful."

"Of course," you murmur, and your gaze drifts back towards the window.

He follows it, and his eyes settle on the clouds that are starting to gather on the horizon. The sky is a dark gray, and the air is cold and damp, and there's a faint rumble of thunder in the distance.

"I'd do anything for you, Tech.”

Tech pauses, his spoon hovering over the pot. The words are soft, and sincere, and they send a shiver down his spine. Because he knows you mean them. He knows, in his heart, that you'd never lie to him. Not about something like this. 

He's not sure how to respond, but he doesn't have to, because you're already continuing.

"I like seeing you like this," you say, a smile tugging at your lips. You turn away from the window, your eyes meeting his. "At peace. Happy."

"I like being like this," he replies. He lets the spoon rest against the rim of the pot and reaches out to take your hand. Your fingers interlace, and he marvels at how perfectly they fit together. At how easy it is, now, to express his affection. It's still not second nature, but it's not as difficult as it used to be. Not with you. "With you."

"You're different, lately," you note. "More...relaxed. I like it."

"Is that so?" he asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes," you laugh. "It's nice."

"I suppose I have you to thank for that," he murmurs, his thumb rubbing absent-minded circles on your skin. "You've had quite the influence on me."

"Is that a good thing?"

"It is," he says, and the certainty in his voice surprises him. He doesn't question it, though. "I'm trying to learn how to let go. To be content with the here and now, and to not always be thinking about the future."

"Well, you're doing a good job," you praise, and your smile is brighter than the sun. "I'm proud of you."

"You are?"

"Yes," you say. "You're learning, evolving. Like a flower opening to the light."

Tech huffs a laugh. "That's an...unusual metaphor."

"But a fitting one," you point out, leaning into him.

"Perhaps," he admits. "Although if I were a plant, I would hope to be something more interesting than a flower."

"Like what?"

"Something useful," he muses. "A tomato, perhaps."

You laugh, loud and bright, and the sound makes his chest swell. He loves your laugh. It's warm, and full, and contagious. It fills him with a strange kind of joy, and he feels his lips twitch upwards.

"Only you would want to be a vegetable," you say, shaking your head in amusement.

"A tomato is a fruit," he corrects quickly. Both because he’s unable to resist, and because he knows you don’t mind and that he’ll find your response amusing.

"Oh, of course," you say with an exaggerated eye-roll. He smiles. "My apologies. A fruit, then."

"You are forgiven," he replies, a teasing lilt to his voice.

Tech leans over and presses a kiss to your temple. He's not sure why, but the urge strikes him, and he doesn't resist. He's learned by now that there are some impulses he should listen to. Especially when they involve you. Especially when it means he can feel your warmth, and the smoothness of your skin, and the way your breath hitches at the contact.

You tilt your head to look at him, and he sees the emotions flicker across your face. Surprise, and delight, and affection. You're always so expressive, and open, and his smile widens.

"What was that for?" you ask, raising an eyebrow.

"No reason," he murmurs. "Just...happy."

You grin and lean in, brushing your nose against his.

"Love you," you whisper.

"And I, you," he replies, his fingers reaching up to tangle in your hair. He brings you closer and kisses you, dipping his head and tilting to capture your lips just right. It's slow, and gentle, and perfect, and he's amazed, once again, at how natural it is. He doesn't know how he managed to live so long without this.

He doesn't know how he can ever again live without it.

“They’re going to be here soon,” you murmur against his lips, a note of amusement in your voice.

Tech hums in acknowledgement, but doesn't stop kissing you. He knows he should, but he can't bring himself to pull away. He wants to savor the moment. To memorize every detail, and burn the memory into his mind. You're perfect, and he's not ready to let go. Not yet.

You smile against his lips, and his grip tightens, pulling you closer in a way that makes you let out a breathy laugh. Your hands are on his arms, and your fingers are tracing lazy patterns on his skin as your mouth opens to him.

He can't help but feel a sense of smug satisfaction at the fact that he's the one making you laugh. That he's the one causing the blush that's spreading across your cheeks. That he's the one drawing these reactions from you.

He wants to draw more. Wants to see you smile, and hear you laugh, and watch your eyes light up with joy. He wants to keep doing this, over and over again. Until the stars die, and the galaxies collapse, and the universe falls apart around him. 

He wants to do this, and so much more, and it's a realization that makes his head spin.

He can't imagine his life without you. Without the sound of your laughter, and the feel of your hands, and the warmth of your body pressed against his. He can't imagine his life without the simple domesticity, and the quiet moments, and the uncomplicated love that comes from simply being.

He can't imagine his life without this feeling. Without this certainty. This happiness. And he's suddenly overcome with a desire to do everything he can to hold on to it. To do everything he can to make sure that it never fades.

"Tech..." you gasp, your fingers digging into his shirt.

He pulls away, his chest heaving, and looks at you. You're flushed and breathless, and his gaze drifts down to your lips, pink and slightly swollen from his kisses. He can't help himself. He leans in and kisses you again, a soft, chaste press of his lips to yours.

"They're really going to be here soon," you breathe, your forehead resting against his.

"I know," he sighs. He takes a deep breath and forces himself to pull away. "I should finish preparing dinner."

You nod, a slight frown on your face. Tech knows it's because you want him to keep kissing you, but you're also a stickler for punctuality, and you don't like making people wait. He doesn't either, but he finds that, when it comes to you, he's more than willing to break the rules. Just a little.

"I'll set the table," you offer as you step away. "And I need to get the dessert from the icebox. Do we have any honey left?"

"You made dessert?" he asks, unable to hide the excitement in his voice.

You'd taken to baking lately, and he'd found himself quite enjoying the results. Wrecker especially had developed a taste for your creations, and he was constantly begging you to make him more. Tech didn't mind. He was just happy to see you happy. And, if he was being honest, he didn't mind the extra sweets.

"Yes," you reply. "And before you ask, it's not a cake."

"A shame," he teases. "I was rather hoping for another one."

"You just want more frosting," you laugh. You point a finger at him, the corner of your mouth quirked up. "Don't think I haven't noticed."

"I'm not sure what you're referring to," he says innocently. He smirks as he turns back to the pot, stirring the mixture. "But if I were, I would admit nothing."

"Sure," you chuckle, rolling your eyes. You move away from him, grabbing the plates from the counter, and start arranging them on the table. The sound is comforting, familiar. He's gotten used to this. To the easy rhythm, the simple domesticity, the quiet moments. He never thought he would. Never thought he could. But, with you, he can.

"I think we have enough honey," he calls over his shoulder. "I bought some last time I went to the market. It's in the pantry."

"Thanks," you shout back. "I'll grab it after I finish setting the table."

He listens as you work, the sounds of your movements soothing. You move about the kitchen, opening and closing cabinets, retrieving the dishes and cutlery, arranging everything just so. He's learned by now not to interfere. You have a particular method, and a routine, and he's learned that it's better not to interrupt.

Instead, he adds a few finishing touches to the stew. Some more herbs, a dash of seasoning, a bit of extra salt. He stirs, and tastes, and nods, satisfied. It's good. Better than the first few times, at least. He's pleased with the results, and he hopes that the others will enjoy the meal as much as you always seem to.

"It smells wonderful," you say as you appear beside him. "It'll be nice to have the whole family over. I haven’t seen Echo since…” Your voice trails off, and you shake your head. “Well, not for a while."

"I know," Tech says, his voice soft. He knows that, while the time you spent apart from the others was hard on him, it was harder on you. He had lost his brothers, but you had lost everything. The family you had made, the friends you had known. All gone. You had never even said goodbye.

He's grateful that you've all been able to come together again, in a way. That you're not alone, and neither is he.

"I'm glad they're all okay," you say. "And I'm glad they have a place where they can finally be safe. Where we can all be safe."

"It's a good place," Tech agrees. Pabu is small and remote, and it's far removed from the dangers of the galaxy. They don't have the resources of Coruscant, or the defenses of Kamino, but they're content. They're safe. They're free.

You pause, tilting your head, and he can tell you're listening. He can't hear anything, but he knows you can. He knows you can sense them. It's still strange, after all this time, but it's becoming less so. Less unsettling. More...natural.

"They're here," you announce, a slight smile on your face. "Are you ready?"

"Yes," he replies as his fingers slip into yours. "Let's go greet our guests."

The door opens, and the sounds of laughter drift in, followed by a gust of cool air. Omega's the first to step through, and she rushes towards you, practically tackling you in a hug. The others file in, greeting Tech and giving you warm embraces, and soon, the small house is filled with familiar voices.

Wrecker claps Tech on the shoulder, nearly knocking him over on his way to the kitchen. Hunter offers him a quiet smile and a nod. Crosshair gives him a look that's equal parts sarcastic and fond, and Echo pulls him into a one-armed hug.

"It's good to see you," Echo says, his gaze drifting to you. He gives you a nod and a questioning look, and you dip your head in return. "Both of you."

"Likewise," Tech says, the corner of his mouth tugging into a small smile.

"The food smells great," Hunter remarks.

"I'll put some extra spice in it for you," Crosshair drawls, nudging Tech out of the way and moving towards the kitchen, where Wrecker is already sampling the food.

"Please, don't," Echo groans as he follows him.

The others settle in, spreading out across the room, and the atmosphere quickly becomes comfortable and familiar. Tech watches as they banter, and joke, and bicker, and a small part of him misses the days when it was just the five of them. But, it's a small part, and an insignificant one. Because, while those days were good, these ones are better. Because you're here. And, because he's finally allowed to have you. To love you.

You catch his eye and give him a warm smile, and he can't help but return it.

Yes, things are better, now. Much, much better.

The first thing Tech notices when he awakes is the smell of rain. It’s faint, but it’s there, and he rolls over, breathing deeply. The rain on Pabu is different than Kamino's, softer, and earthier, and he’s come to enjoy it. He cracks open an eye, taking in the sight of the droplets trickling down the darkened window.

The second thing he notices is the absence of you.

Tech's eyes snap open, and his gaze immediately seems out your form, but the bed is empty, and his heart leaps into his throat. He reaches out, his hands brushing against the cold sheets, and he swallows thickly, forcing himself to take a deep breath. He’s being irrational, and his mind is playing tricks on him. You are here. You’re safe. You’re home.

He rises from the bed and crosses the room, his bare feet sinking into the plush rug that you had insisted on purchasing for your new home together. Tech is still not convinced of its practicality, but the way it feels beneath his feet is pleasant, so he never protested. And, judging by the number of times he had caught you walking across it barefoot, pacing in circles as you typed away on your datapad, you seem to enjoy it as well.

Tech smiles slightly at the memory and opens the door, stepping into the hallway. The house is dark, save for a small lamp that's glowing softly in the living room. He pads down the hall and comes to a stop when he reaches the threshold. 

You’re sitting in the center of the floor, the soft glow of the light illuminating your features. Your legs are crossed underneath you, and your head is bowed as if in prayer. He can see your shoulders rise and fall with each breath, and the quiet tension that seems to constantly radiate from you has lessened somewhat. But there is still a weariness in the way you held yourself, a weight that has not yet been lifted.

Tech stands in the doorway for a moment, simply watching you. The sight of you meditating is not an unfamiliar one, and neither is the way his heart fluttered when he sees you. But the intensity of his feelings still takes him by surprise. He can only imagine what it would be like in the future. He doesn’t think it will ever stop, this overwhelming love he felt for you.

"Are you going to stand there all night, or are you going to join me?"

Tech starts slightly, his heart jumping at the sound of your voice. You turn to look at him, a small smile playing across your lips, and he can’t help but return it.

"I wasn't sure if I was allowed," he says quietly. He crosses the room, grabbing a blanket from the couch as he did so. You watch him, your expression softening as he carefully arranges the blanket around your shoulders before settling down next to you.

"Of course you're allowed," you murmur, shifting closer to him. "This is your home, too."

"I know," he says. "I was merely giving you some space. I did not wish to intrude."

You shake your head and let out a soft sigh. "Tech, I appreciate the sentiment, but I've had plenty of space. More than enough."

He hesitates for a moment, searching your expression. You seem calm, and the usual tension that lines your features had faded, but he’s still unsure. He had not wanted to push you, to ask for anything more than you were willing to give. And, though you had been open and welcoming with him in the months since your return, he’s still unsure how to act. He doesn’t quite know the boundaries, and he’s still afraid of crossing them, of hurting you.

"You don't have to worry, Tech," you say softly, as if sensing his thoughts. Perhaps you did. He would not be surprised. Your abilities were impressive, even by his standards. "I'm okay. I promise."

"Are you?" he asks, the question slipping from his mouth before he could stop it.

You pause, your brows drawing together. Tech holds his breath, waiting.

"Yes," you finally say, your voice firm. "I'm alright."

"Okay," he says.

You sigh and shake your head. "You're not going to believe me, are you?"

"I believe that you are trying to convince yourself," he replies gently. "But I also know that it is not as easy as just deciding that everything is okay."

"Tech—"

"Please, let me finish," he interrupts, holding up a hand.

You bite your lip, but remain silent, waiting.

"I know that it will take time," he says, his gaze falling to his hands. "And I know that there are some things that will never fully heal. But, if you are willing, I would like to be there for you. To help you in any way that I can."

He glances at you, and he finds you staring at him, your expression unreadable.

"Tech," you say quietly. "I know what you're doing."

"What?" he asks, surprised. "What do you mean?"

"You're trying to take care of me," you say, a wry smile tugging at your lips.

"Is that so terrible?" he mutters. His brows furrow as he studies your face, trying to understand your reaction.

"No," you reply. Your voice is soft and reassuring, but he can tell by the way you wring your hands that it’s more than that. "It's not. But I can take care of myself. I've been doing it for a while now. Long before you showed up."

"I know," he murmurs. "But you don't have to anymore. I am here now. And I will not leave you. I promise."

Your smile softens, and you lean against him, resting your head on his shoulder. He shifts, wrapping an arm around you, and his hand settles on your waist, his fingers stroking lightly over the fabric of your shirt. His shirt, actually. The one that he had lent you last week, and had yet to get back. Not that he minds. Seeing you in his clothes is more satisfying than he would have thought.

"I want to help," he says softly, his gaze fixed on the rain streaking down the window. "But only if you let me."

You don’t respond, and for a moment, he thinks that maybe he had said something wrong. Maybe he had overstepped. Maybe you weren't ready. But then you let out a breath, a long, shaky exhale, and he feels your body relax against him.

"I'm sorry," you whisper.

"For what?" he asks gently.

"For making you worry," you say, your voice thick with emotion. "I just...I didn't want to bother you. I didn't want to be a burden."

"You are not a burden, Sarad," he replies. "You never have been, and you never will be."

"Thank you," you murmur, nestling closer to him. He holds you, letting his hand drift up and down your arm, feeling the tension begin to leave your body. It’s a familiar motion, one that has become habitual, and it soothes both of you. He can feel his own anxiety fading, and his mind grows clearer, his thoughts less jumbled. The simple contact, the feeling of your presence next to him, is grounding.

"I missed you," you say after a while. "So much."

"I missed you, too," he murmurs.

"When I was on Nar Shaddaa, all I could think about was how much I wanted to go home," you continue, your voice barely audible. "Not the place, just...the feeling. Of being with you."

He tightens his grip on you, his arm around your waist pulling you closer.

"But now that I'm here and things have settled down, it's hard," you say. "With the Order, I had a purpose. A reason to keep going. And now, it's like I've lost my anchor."

Tech nods, his chin bumping against the top of your head. "I understand. After the war ended, and we defected from the Empire, the rest of the squad and I felt similarly. We had always had a sense of direction, but once the fight was over, it was difficult to find a new one."

"Yes," you breathe. "Exactly."

"But we found it," he says, his hand squeezing your shoulder. "Together."

You turn your face, burying it in the crook of his neck, and he feels a rush of warmth spread through him. The feeling of your breath on his skin is comforting, and he closes his eyes, letting his head fall against yours.

"We will find your new purpose," he says, his voice low and soft. "It will take time, but we will. And, in the meantime, we will have each other."

You hum in agreement, your hand slipping into his and giving it a gentle squeeze. "I love you."

"I love you, too," he says, his lips pressing a kiss against your forehead.

"Do you think we'll ever feel normal again?"

He thinks for a moment before speaking, not wanting to upset you further, but he can’t find any answer that isn’t the truth.

"No," he finally says. "I don't believe so. Not truly."

You let out a breath, and Tech can hear the disappointment in it. He turns his head, letting his cheek rest on top of your head.

"That's what I thought," you sigh sadly. You move to pull away, but he holds firm.

"But, normal is subjective," he continues, his hand running up and down your arm. "And we have never been normal, so I do not think we have much to worry about."

"I guess," you reply. "It's just hard, sometimes. Being here. Trying to fit in. Especially when I have no idea what I'm supposed to do next."

"Neither do I," he says honestly. "But I have faith that we will figure it out."

You huff a sound halfway between a laugh and a sob. "When did you get so optimistic?"

"I learned from the best," he replies, a smile tugging at his lips. You pull from his embrace, and he feels a brief moment of panic before he sees the amusement shining in your eyes through the tears.

"I'm hardly the best," you chuckle.

"In my opinion, you are," he says firmly.

"Well, your opinion is biased."

"It is an opinion based on fact," he counters, raising an eyebrow as he turns his head toward you. You snort, rolling your eyes, but the smile remains on your lips.

You push yourself up onto your knees, and you lean forward, brushing a kiss against his lips. It’s brief, but it leaves him reeling. When you pull back, your cheeks are flushed, and he feels a surge of affection for you.

"Thank you," you say softly, your eyes meeting his. There’s a warmth in your gaze, a vulnerability that he had rarely seen, and he finds himself leaning forward, wanting to be closer to you again. "For everything. For being here, and for listening. And for just...being you."

He smiles, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. "Always."

You press a kiss against his palm, and his heart swells, his chest feeling lighter than it had in weeks. He’s struck once more by how lucky he is to have you back in his life. After everything he had gone through, after everything you had endured, it seemed impossible. But, somehow, the universe had brought you together once more. And, despite everything that had happened, he has no doubt that, together, you can face whatever the future held.

"Come on," you say, standing and extending a hand. "Let's go to bed."

Tech lets you pull him up, and his arms wrap around your waist, holding you close. You tilt your head, gazing up at him, and his breath catches in his throat. There’s no fear, no anxiety, no doubt. Only peace, and happiness, and love.

"Sarad..."

"Yes?"

He leans down, his lips finding yours. It’s a gentle, tender kiss, but it’s enough to make his pulse quicken. You melt into him, your hands sliding up his chest and tangling in his hair. He pulls you closer, his fingers gripping the fabric of your shirt. You tug him down, deepening the kiss, and he can’t help but sigh. It feels so right, and it’s so easy to lose himself in the sensation, to forget about everything else.

When you finally break apart, the two of you are breathing heavily, and your foreheads are pressed together.

"That was nice," you murmur, a small grin tugging at the corner of your lips.

"Indeed," Tech agrees.

You lean up on your toes, brushing a kiss against his cheek, and his grip tightens on you, keeping you close.

"So," you say, your voice low and soft. "Bed?"

"Yes," he whispers.

Your hand finds his, and your fingers lace together as you lead him out of the room, the blanket trailing behind you. He follows you down the hall, through the doorway, and into the bedroom, his eyes never leaving you.

The door closes behind you, and Tech lets out a sigh, his shoulders slumping as the last of the tension seeps from his body. The house is quiet and still, save for the faint sound of rain trickling down the roof. The darkness envelops the two of you, but he’s content to simply bask in your presence.

"You're quiet tonight," you observe as you make your way to the bed.

"I have a lot on my mind," he admits, following you.

"Anything you want to talk about?" you ask, settling onto the mattress.

He hesitates for a moment, unsure of how to answer. The words are on the tip of his tongue, the ones that had been there for a while, but he doesn’t know how to say them. Doesn’t know if you were ready. And he doesn’t want to pressure you, not when so much is already uncertain.

"No," he says, joining you. "I'm alright."

"Okay," you murmur, curling into his side. He wraps an arm around you, his hand splayed across your back, and he lets out a long, slow breath. He can feel your heart beating, strong and steady, and he matches his breathing to the rhythm.

"I'm sorry," you whisper, your voice thick with emotion. "I know this can't be easy for you."

"No," he agrees. "It isn't."

"But it's worth it," he adds. "Every moment with you is worth it."

You bury your face in the crook of his neck, hiding your tears, and he tightens his hold on you, pulling you close. Your breath is hot against his skin, and he feels your tears dampen his shirt, but he doesn’t mind. His hand drifts up and down your back, a soothing motion that he hopes is helping.

"I love you," you mumble into his chest.

"I love you, too," he replies, placing a kiss on the top of your head.

"I wish I could take away your pain," you say quietly.

"You already have," he assures you.

"What do you mean?"

"Being here, with you, is the closest thing to happiness I've known," he explains. "I would endure any pain, suffer any hardship, to have this."

You’re silent for a moment, and he can feel your heartbeat quicken.

"Really?" you ask, your voice small and vulnerable.

"Yes," he replies firmly.

You look up at him, your gaze searching, and he meets it unflinchingly. He wants you to see the truth, the sincerity, the depth of his emotions. Because it’s true. Because, despite everything, you are still the center of his universe.

"You know, Tech," you begin, a small smile tugging at your lips. "This might be the most romantic thing anyone has ever said to me."

"I’m pleased to hear it," he says as a matching smile stretched across his face. “I will note the time and date.”

You chuckle, shaking your head. "I don't know what I would do without you."

"Hopefully, you will never have to find out," he says earnestly.

"Yeah," you sigh. You settle against him once more, your head on his chest. "Hopefully."

He holds you, his arms encircling you, and he can feel your body relaxing, your muscles loosening. Your breathing is evening out, and he can tell that you were falling asleep. It’s been a long day, and a difficult night, and you need the rest. He wants nothing more than to give it to you.

"The rain," you murmur, your voice barely audible. "Reminds me of Kamino."

"It does," he agrees, his own eyes starting to grow heavy.

"I missed it.”

"Me too.”

You shift, moving closer, and his hands instinctively come up to hold you. He’s tired, but he doesn’t want to sleep, didn't want to miss a single moment with you. But his body is betraying him, and his mind is growing fuzzy. The exhaustion is too much, and his eyes slip closed, the darkness enveloping him.

He feels the blankets shift as you curl into him, and your breath is warm on his neck, a comforting sensation. You’re close, and real, and solid. You’re here, and that was all that mattered. He would give anything, would do anything, to keep you here, with him. To keep you safe.

And, with that thought in mind, Tech surrenders himself to sleep, knowing that, when he awoke, you would be there.

Taglist: @baddest-batchers @covert1ntrovert @stellarbit @bruh-myguy-what @qvnthesia

@spicy-clones @kindalonleystars @cw80831 @totallyunidentified @heidnspeak

@lovelytech9902 @frozenreptile @chocolatewastelandtriumph @etod @puppetscenario

@umekohiganbana @resistantecho @dindjarins1ut @tech-aficionado @aynavaano

@burningnerdchild @ihatesaaand @lolwey @hobbititties @mere-bear

@thegreatpipster @lordofthenerds97 @tentakelspektakel @notslaybabes @mali-777

@schrodingersraven @megmegalodondon @dangraccoon @dreamie411 @sukithebean

@bimboshaggy @anything-forourmoony @9902sgirl @jedi-dreea @salaminus

@ghostymarni @gottalovehistory @burningnerdchild @yoitsjay @callsign-denmark

@julli-bee @sonicrainbooms @captn-trex @feral-ferrule @webslinger-holland

@marchingviolist @deerspringdreams @chaicilatte @somewhere-on-kamino

@silly-starfish @floofyroro

[mrghostrat]

Haven’t been on tumblr in a long time.. I remember your streamer au, but nothing more. Id appreciate a small recap! :3

HII! for anyone who hasn't read it, it's a very slice-of-life collection of scenes for the most part, so there's loads of lil scenes i'll leave out of this. but here's a look back at the overall friends-to-lovers plot!

and they were streamers (10/16) (unfinished wip)

aziraphale and crowley are full time twitch streamers who live together in a london townhouse. crowley streams whatever he wants, usually toxic pvp games and "just chatting" hanging out and drinking. aziraphale streams all kinds of wholesome crafty content, such as cooking, baking, reading, and book binding.

crowley has been in love with aziraphale since... god, far too long. he'll never say anything because he knows aziraphale only sees him as a friend

aziraphale is bombarded with a hate raid during pride month, and is severely ill-equipped to moderate it himself. crowley jumps in to shut it down and fix his security settings to protect him further.

aziraphale brings crowley a cup of tea one stream (standing off-camera) when he's heavily focused on a game. he startles at the sudden presence, shouting "angel" accidentally for everyone to hear. aziraphale doesn't mind, but the chat go nuts speculating over the pet name and his relationship with his roommate

furfur, a sub-par streamer and tea-spill investigator, notes a connection on twitter between this "angel" and and old stream clip where crowley is caught ranting and rambling (very smittenly) about an "angel" in his life.

aziraphale's chat starts to wonder about the fondness between him and his elusive off-screen roommate

crowley posts in aziraphale's chat asking if he can have a bite of what he's cooking. he goes to the kitchen to try some, but the chat is too distracted freaking out that the notorious crowley is watching an aziraphale stream to realise aziraphale has actually handed a plate off camera. aziraphale seems troubled when he notices the chat is so beserk, so crowley makes a secret side account to send him a donation and tell him to keep up the good work

aziraphale comes home to find crowley in a discord call, playing party games with anathema, newt, and nina. he settles in beside him on the couch to join in.

crowley surprises aziraphale by raiding him at the end of his stream. he uses his 3,000 viewers to ask if aziraphale plans on going to a twitch meet-up in edinburgh. when crowley finally asks himself, aziraphale says yes.

the dark council, a huge and popular UK twitch team, tweets their curiosity about crowley's elusive roommate, wanting anyone with sleuthing abilities to spill the tea for them.

shaxx encourages furfur to investigate his theory that aziraphale and crowley live together, wanting him to impress the dark council twitch team to grow both their streams.

aziraphale and crowley drive to edinburgh together, playing games in the car, answering questions on twitter, and have a tense conversation on what to do if you harbour a secret crush. aziraphale thinks you should go for grand gestures, but crowley thinks it's best to bottle things up.

they attend the meet-up at a packed pub. crowley introduces aziraphale to beelzebub and promises to stick by his side, but as the drinks start flowing, they both get more comfortable to mill around and socialise on their own.

furfur, hired as the photographer for the event, arrives only after crowley and aziraphale separate from one another. but at the end of the night, gets a photo of them leaving the pub together in a drunken giggle fit, looking like smitten lovers. shaxx and furfur speculate they might be more than just roommates.

back in london, aziraphale makes plans for his holiday fundraiser stream. his viewers suggest a "roommate reveal" for £5,000. both he and crowley are flabbergasted that anyone is even slightly interested. furfur rushes to compile a tea spill twitlonger before the fundraiser.

while planning for his christmas events, aziraphale bakes a practise batch of angel cake on stream, crowley's favourite. he jumps up from the couch to eat a slice, accidentally wandering straight onto camera-- spoiling the fundraising surprise, and ruining furfur's tea spill. they're trending on twitter the next day.

aziraphale is hate raided again, but this time the raiders hack into his chat bot. crowley rushes in to reset the bot's data before they can export years of chat logs and sensitive viewer information. when the raid is halted, aziraphale is relieved, then devastated to realise everything has been wiped, until crowley assures him he made a backup of the logs, a la saving his books.

aziraphale finally realises he loves crowley. he's so overcome with affection for him, it starts to freak crowley out. crowley thinks he's getting swept up in the christmas season and is reading into affection that isn't actually there, and aziraphale thinks he's making crowley uncomfortable by upsetting the status quo

aziraphale becoems downtrodden by how closed-off crowley is being, and crowley panics when he realises he hasn't been subtle at all. he promises aziraphale hasn't done anything wrong and that he's just in his own head about their upcoming christmas party with their mods. aziraphale tries to believe him.

[eruscreaminginthedistance]

The tweets are giving pandering to a very specific subset of the fandom that are still complaining that their HoFs aren't still the main character ngl. Saying "you don't want characters to return cos we'll do something mean to them" is bizarrely juvenile. Like yes, unironically I think anyone who engages with your stories in an intelligent way sees the value in killing off or ruining the happy endings of beloved characters in service of a compelling narrative and showcasing the impacts of our choices.

The choice to sacrifice Hawke or the Warden - potentially Alistair - in The Nightmare was one of the best moments in Inquisition, one that was diluted in playthroughs where one was stuck with, say, Stroud. Mass Effect 3 is full of amazing moments like these - are Kirby and Weekes saying that we wouldn't want another Mordin? Another Legion? All the incredibly impactful moments of that third installment where our decisions played out to either the benefit or detriment of beloved characters? Are Kirby and Weekes really putting all of the fandom under the umbrella of a minority of entitled fans who would rather their faves be the specialist most happiest characters in existence in favour of the dark and high stakes narrative the first two games set the series up to be? What a bizarre response this has been.

All this to say, I wish these devs would just be honest and admit carrying over all those decisions is just too much work. Turning the finger to the fandom and claiming the fans just don't know any better isn't doing anyone any favours. As if returning creator-favourite Morrigan is in any danger or will have anything go wrong for her in any way. Just stick to your guns, guys; overwhelmed at the work is way more understandable than this made-up position that this is secretely what the fans want. Yes, I expect that when you keep bringing back significant characters in Veilguard that you do put in all that effort and do something more interesting with them than just fanservice, hence why I've been asking for months why Varric isn't dead yet.

But for the most part, nobody is expecting fully voiced and mocapped cameos or questlines from every single fan favourite or potentially relevant character. It's really just the throwaway lines and codex entries that people like me would want; just getting a sense that the world is a living thing that is breathing and acting even while we're away, and that even if our impacts did not influence the game itself, they still had an effect on the world.

[ivoryrebellionmess]

Spooky remorses

Summary: You dated Jax for a year and a half, it was great. You fought sure, but that's a given if you´re both stubborn (and he's constantly in danger). Gemma didn't like the relationship, and she made sure that it ended. Now, months after the breakup, your friend takes you to a Halloween party that just happens to be SAMCRO´s.

warnings: 18+, mdni

A/N: Heyyy :) this is my first time writing anything so I hope it's not too bad. english is not my first language so please tell me if there are any mistakes. i just saw an edit and this kind of popped into my head. there´s no physical description of the reader, no y/n. the ter trashy pop is used, but in a good way, i love trashy pop

this is not the whole thing, just a little taste to take the edge off of uploading the whole fic. hope you like it <3

pd: i bet you can tell i´ve never smoked lol

tw: foul language, kinda hooking up with your ex, jealous jax, smoking,a little bit of spice, alcohol, gemma being mean

Word count: 1994

You heard her before you saw her, your head buried in paperwork, 

¨No one told me in college that nurses had to do this much paperwork¨ Hazel laughed. 

She was new in Charming, looking for a quieter life than the one she had in San Francisco. You had almost laughed at the irony when she first told you, the Sons present in your mind. One Son specifically. How you managed to avoid him considering the amount of hospital visits they made was almost a miracle. 

You had to change your mechanic, that's true, a minor inconvenience. 

Hazel knew about the guy you had just broken up with when she started working with you, but you had, of course, not told her he was none other than the VP of the motorcycle club. There were parts of that story that raised difficult questions. So the official version was that you had a relationship and that it ended because he was kind of a mama's boy, which was not a lie. The truth? Gemma didn't like you and she did everything she could to get rid of you. She succeeded of course.

As you looked up from the files, your greeting was her mischievous smile. ¨Oh no, what is it?¨. 

Hazel leaned in on the table, looking over her shoulder ¨Sooo, you wanted to go dancing on Halloween, but all the good parties are sold out right?¨

You hummed as you got closer to her, ¨Sure, been sold out weeks¨

¨What if I told you I got us invited to a private party?¨ She looked so proud of herself, smiling like she just won the lottery. 

The head nurse approached you, shaking her head but not mad, ¨Last time I checked your, job description said nothing about gossiping, ladies¨

With that, Hazel got back to her rounds, and you got back to your paperwork; the party still on the back of your mind. 

When it was finally time to clock out, Hazel and you decided you´d get ready at her place that Friday before going to the party; and you got in your car and drove to a costume shop. You'd thought of just buying fake blood and splashing it on some scrubs you didn't use anymore, but as you entered a beautiful mannequin dressed as a vampire gave you another idea. You had a dress that you hadn't had a chance to wear yet, well, this was it. 

The cashier joked as you paid for a gothic looking choker and fake fangs ¨Last minute buy huh?¨; you nodded, laughing along with her.

On Friday morning, you packed a bag with the outfit and makeup you would need to get ready and left for the hospital. The hours seemed to tick by specially slow: making your rounds, filling up paperwork, changing dressings, administering medication, over and over.  During lunchtime one of your friends wanted to know which party you were going to, and that's when you realized you didn't know. 

¨I´ve been so excited with the idea of going I did not even wonder…and Hazel´s been so busy, we have barely talked¨ 

At last you got to Hazel's place, opened up a couple of beers and started getting ready, trashy pop blasting from the radio. While the glue in the fake fangs dried off, a question escaped your lips ¨So, what's the story with this party?¨. 

The image of your fingers stuck in your mouth, holding the fangs in place was guilty for a fit of laughter being all you got for an answer. Hazel´s cackles were very contagious, even more so after a couple of beers. 

She sat down to do her makeup, ready to answer your question ¨My car broke down right? Anette from the pediatric wing said she knew the best mechanics in town¨ Your face went white at that, fearing the worst ¨so I went there, and the hottest guy comes up to me and starts asking about the car¨ she turned to face you ¨when I say hot I don't think you understand, I mean very hot¨ a sick feeling to your stomach made you think that was probably Jax, charming a beautiful girl into a party, and then his bed, Hazel was too deep in the story to notice your change in demeanor ¨he was funny as hell and he had these tats in his head, you should have seen him¨. 

You finally felt like you could breathe a little better, so you interrupted ¨So you got us invited to SAMCRO´s party?¨ That was when Hazel noticed you were sitting on her bed, your face serious, and she assumed she knew why ¨Listen honey, I know they're supposed to be dangerous or whatever, but it's just a party, nothing bad will happen¨. 

As she sat down next to you, you grabbed her hand ¨Remember my ex?¨ she blinked at that, not the answer she was expecting ¨Yeah, the one you never talk about¨. You breathed in deeply  ¨I never talk about him because he's the VP of the Sons, and there are many things I can't tell you¨. 

A heavy silence fell between you two, and you could see disappointment in her eyes. 

You knew you shouldn't, you had been avoiding him for a reason, but you couldn't help yourself, Hazel had been looking forward to the party, and so had you, if you were being honest. 

You got up and grabbed the dark red lipstick ¨So, now that we both have all the information, let's finish here¨, before Hazel even finished opening her mouth you continued ¨We're already half dressed, Juice will be waiting for you. I have to see Jax again eventually, I can't avoid him forever¨. 

With that, you sat down and finished doing your makeup ¨Come on Hazel, we don't have the whole night¨. She gave you a grateful smile.

A little after, you admired the both of you in the mirror: Hazel had a beautiful purple witch costume, and you were wearing a garnet minidress, fishnets, black platform heels and the choker and fangs. ¨We look hot, he's gonna die when he sees you¨ Hazel kissed your cheek lovingly, and with that you left.

Memories flooded your brain as Hazel parked in front of the clubhouse and were quickly interrupted by her voice ¨I really am sorry-¨, a reassuring smile and a wink shut her up, then you got out of the car. 

A dull throb came from the closed door, the beat of the music. It got louder as some girls you didn't know opened the door and got out, laughing and clearly drunk. 

¨Looks like a fun party Hazel, let's go get your guy¨, with that you started walking, putting as much fake confidence as you could into every step. What you were not expecting was her disappearing as soon as the door closed behind you.

By yourself, as you had so many nights before, you approached the bar, spotting Chibs. He smiled at you as a wave of recognition flashed in his face 

¨Look what the cat dragged in¨, leaning on the countertop. Chibs eyed you up and down and you twirled, chuckling ¨What can I get ya? It's on the house¨.

Jax´s breath caught in his throat as he saw you walking into the party, what the hell were you doing there. He couldn't believe how good you looked, the dress clinging to your body in all the right places, the fishnets, the dark makeup...

It might be the sexier you had ever looked. He had to play it cool so he leaned against the wall, beer in hand, yet his eyes followed your every movement. 

You were talking to Chibs, laughing and joking, and he felt a pang in his chest. That should be him.

Now that your vodka tonic was half empty, being in the clubhouse was way less stressful, still you had to make an effort not to look at him. You could feel his gaze on you, but you had not dared do the same. A blonde head of head on the periphery was more than enough. 

So you leaned in the bar next to Chibs. ¨Can you believe my friend ditched me the second she stepped in here?¨, a light chuckle escaping your lips at the absurdity of it. 

He laughed with you, looking around ¨Can´t blame her, not with hot bikers everywhere¨. 

¨Oh my god i cant believe youre on her side¨, you jokingly hit his arm. 

Chibs kept on joking about how hot the Sons were while you both looked around the room, your eyes suddenly falling on Jax.

 He looked fucking great . 

You had to make a bit of an effort to look away, taking a sip of your drink. This did not go unnoticed to Chibs, who smirked, knowing his brother too well. 

Jax had been peeking at you too, even if he pretended to focus on the conversation he was having. 

You noticed Chibs leaning closer, his voice dropping ¨You know he hasn't stopped looking at you since you walked in, don't ya?¨. 

You bit the inside of your cheek ¨Didn't even notice¨.

¨So you didn't notice him almost spilling his beer when he first saw you?¨ He chuckled ¨Or the way he keeps stealing glances every time he thinks no one's gonna notice?¨.

You could tell Chibs was enjoying your effect on Jax a little more than a brother should, but you were more worried about the way his presence was affecting you. 

¨I haven't got a clue what you´re talking about¨, you just hoped your innocent facade was good enough.

Chibs shook his head, so it wasn't. ¨You´re a terrible liar, but I´ll play along. Keep acting like he's not here and let's see how long he can keep his cool¨. A wink punctuated the ending of his challenge. 

Not loving the route the conversation was heading in, you finished your drink with one BIG gulp and left. 

¨Thanks for the drink, it was great¨. Before you could quite leave he chuckled, amused by your stubbornness.

¨Uh huh, whatever. Don't pretend to be surprised when he starts pestering you, you know he will. That boy can't resist a challenge¨

That did strike a nerve, and your mouth was working before you could register what you were saying, ¨I´m not a challenge, I´m his ex¨ 

Chibs chuckled and leaned in closer ¨You ignoring him is a challenge, being his ex only adds to it¨ He took a swing of his beer before continuing, ¨Trust me, you're getting under his skin more than you realize¨

For whatever reason, that angered you. You were not a challenge, and ignoring him was the sane choice. The alcohol in your system just fueled that anger, so still in hushed voices you retorted, ¨Am I getting under his skin? Or is he just horny and knows I´m a good fuck?¨

He just laughed, this was the you he remembered, running your mouth in a tiny dress, having a good time but not letting anyone put you down. Well, not anyone, the fight against Gemma was the one he'd seen you lose.

¨Oh believe me it's both, he sees you and all he can think about is getting you into bed. But there's more to it, ain't there?¨ This time when he smirked he was looking at Jax, who was talking to Tig, his eyes trained on you. 

You started walking to the dancefloor, and you offered a shrug as an answer to his question. The words that followed, not even you believed, ¨I don´t know, and I don´t care¨

Chibs watched you leave, talking to himself, ¨Yeah, you keep telling yourself that¨. He then looked at Jax, who was following your every movement from his spot leaning on the wall. Chibs just shook his head and went over, ready to stir the pot.

[yiffos-official]

I am willing to give you or anyone else on tumblr the skills and advice the helped me get my dream job

the idea of working for TEK a few months ago would just be a fantasy

my background in education is English. I learned what I know now on my own and only by random chance.

This is why I am so critical of the linux commumity on tumblr.

They're tagging themselves as -official when they can't provide casual end user support.

They're entirely too horny to be in this sphere. Computers and linux should not be about how much you want to fuck/be fucked by X

it will deter end users

This is very cool that you will help other tumblr users with this stuff; i may actually take you up on this at some point :3

(my tone here is /g, /pos, /nm, /lh)

I do, however, kind of disagree with the other points. I think that for any other social media it's correct, twt or fb does not have the culture to make these sorts of parody accounts viable or not-counter-productive to increasing the linux market share. But I don't think that tumblr is the same.

I think that tumblr does. I think the tumblr community has always been this somewhat ephemeral yet perpetual inside joke culture where almost every user is in-the-know, and new users to the joke are able generally able to catch on quickly to it due to their general understanding of they way tumblr communities operate.

IMO, it's a somewhat quick pipeline of:

\> find first "x-official" blog -> assume it's real -> see them horny posting about xenia -> infer that RH corporate would probably not approve of such a blog

I can appreciate that it might be intimidating to seek out help as a new linux user, and especially a new linux & tumblr user, but looking through these blogs, you do see them helping out people ^^. heck, my last post was helping someone getting wayland working on an nvidia system.

The main goal of these blogs is not to be a legitimate CS service to general end-users. they aren't affiliated with the software their blog is named after, so in many cases they *cant*. The goal is instead to foster a community around linux, creating a general network of blogs of the various FOSS projects that they enjoy.

I think that final sentiment, of these blogs detering end users, is most likely counter to their actual effect on end users who are considering switching to linux.

We all know a lot of tumblr is 20 or 30 something year olds who have just stuck around since ~2012ish, and new users to tumblr join with pre-existing knowledge of the culture and platform. Almost anyone coming across these blogs are going to be people who can see the "in" joke, and acclimate. I do highly doubt that a random facebook mom who's son convinced her to install mint on her old laptop would find tumblr, find a -official blog, scroll through said blog, and be detered from using mint.

The other side of this is that any tumblr users who come across these blogs, be it with an inkling of desire to switch to linux or not, will see a vibrant and active community that fits very well into the tumblr community. They remember, or have heard of, the amtrac & OSHA blogs, and are therefore probably aware that this is a pre-existing meme on here.

In all likelyhood, this will probably further incentivize them to make the switch, as they would be more attracted to a community of their peers over a community of redditors telling them to read the arch wiki repeatedly

I can, on the other hand, definitely see that for people who have difficulties with parsing tone, and especially sarcasm, would have trouble with this. TBH, I have these difficulties (hence when I was speaking to you yesterday I used the /unjerk indicator, as I couldn't tell what the tone of the conversation was), and so it took me a little while of being in this weird "I'm 99% sure these *aren't* official, but what if?". I have been there forI think that maybe being more transparent with the fact that the blogs are parodies is probably important. I'm guilty of this, and after i post this, i'll add it to my bio.

[reveriebae]

Anchor tattoo

pairing(s) : Ex! Song Mingi x f!reader

word count : 2,259

genre : smut

synopsis : when your highschool ex who is also your first love and also your neighbor unexpectedly have a visit to your place.

warning(s) : you could say reader is cheating, reader has a tattoo (of course it's on the title), unprotected sex, marking (m receiving), lmk if I missed something!

Part of Songfic

Minors do not interact, 21+ only!!

🪐smut under the cut🪐

Million drops of cold water running down, leaving goosebumps all over your skin. Cold shower after spending all day at the office probably something you enjoy every night. The smell of your watermelon shampoo you just excitedly bought yesterday literally spread all over the bathroom, it's nice.

You get out of the bathroom after you finished take a shower, put on Jongho's hoodie that's long enough to cover more than a half of your thighs then doing your skincare. You saw the text you haven't replied before you take a shower, it's from your boyfriend Jongho.

He's been super busy lately so he's rarely visit your house unlike he usually did, his place and yours is a bit far though and you are currently busy too because you just moved to a new brach office so there's a lot to do at the new office so you and him could just wait until the weekend to meet at his place or yours, depends on the situation and it's been about 3 months.

Your schedule is still the same, go home at 8 work at 10 but Jongho's schedule has been changed, he usually finished his work at 5 but now he even still working at 9 so that's the reason why he can't meet you often like how he used to do. Sometimes you get bored and feel so lonely without him, not having company after all day working like you used to have is kind of unusual in some way, but you always trying to understand that you couldn't always expect your boyfriend to be around you everytime so things slowly being fine, you don't call your boyfriend to cry and say 'i miss you' 60 times in every minute, you don't drool on his black tee because you cry yourself to sleep to end up ruining your skincare and cry when you wash the t-shirt anymore, you cry a lot back then and it make you wonder how your boyfriend could stand being with you for the whole 9 months until today.

Your type 'ok' and press the send button when someone ringing the bell at your door, they pressing the bell multiple times it is noisy and you run up to the door to open it and found Mingi in front of you. Mingi, your ex boyfriend when you're still in senior highschool, the reason you broke up with him is just because both of you aren't ready for a relationship yet, you both don't know what to do, don't know how to feel, don't even know how to understand each other and don't know how to maintain that kind of relationship, he is your very first boyfriend and so you are to him. You both decided to end the relationship with no bad blood, with no anger, with no sadness, with the 'we gotta learn how to love first, we can go back if we are ready and we both want to' deal and you both agreed.

You haven't really talked with him for the past two and a half years, sometimes you saw his car passes your house in the morning when you're about to go to work, sometimes you saw him at the convenience store, sometimes you both say hi to each other when you do jogging on sunday morning, because you two live close to each other so you still often see Mingi around your place, but this is the first time after the break up, he actually come to your house.

"Hey..can I come in for a bit? It's urgent, kind of.." his hair is damp you assume he's sweating cause he's literally gasps for air like he's been chased by a ghost.

"O-of course you can Mingi" You nod and let Mingi enter your house, you told him to wait and sit on the couch and you decided to make him some tea. You come back from the kitchen to living room, Mingi still there sitting on the couch. "What happen actually? If you don't mind to tell me" you say as you put the cup of tea on the table in front of him.

"So..do you perhaps know Carla?" You nod and sit beside him, she moved not really far from here about 4 months ago, you heard she's from Europe and you actually ever met her like twice when her mom asked if Carla could borrow your dress and you just gave her instead of lend the dress to her cause you don't really like to share (obviously) and that time when Carla looks like she trying to be close to you by come over to your house everyday waiting for you to come home from work for a whole 2 weeks but you're so busy so she stopped, you haven't say sorry tho. "Yeah, I and her are dating for about two months, everything is going fine until my mom accidentally tells her that you are my ex, she went crazy and always trying to blame you when she noticed my feelings are gone for her" you noticed that he plays his fingers, he might be hiding something cause isn't it weird when your ex suddenly come to your house and talk about a girl, to you? To his ex? What if he just wanna mess with you? What if he just wanna get to close to you again? Second guessing is not that bad yk you gotta be careful with men.

"Oh I'm sorry for that Mingi, but why do you come here?".

"She's at my house, I told her I want to break up but she refused to, now she's haunting me but plays innocent in front of my parents, of course my parents believe me more than her, so I ran out from my house and I could only think about you when I try to find a place to hide".

You let out a hum then realized, all the house in this complex had the same shape, there are two doors to go outside but the backyard is a garden and have no access to go to the street so the only door that could is just the front one, if he said that he ran here when he knew Carla is coming to his house, then Carla must see him leaving the house right?.

"How did you..".

"Jump off the balcony to the tree, you know the tree beside my house had a ladder on it hm?" Damn is this guy could actually read mind?, you just nod to him and he drink the warm tea you gave him. "Ah..warm tea after a cold shower is really nice, thanks pumpkin" You choke after caught what he just said, 'pumpkin' is the nickname he gave you when you two still together.

"Yeah..sure,uhm. I'm..gonna bring some biscuits" you quickly walk to the kitchen to take a breath. God this is so wrong but you missed him, he looks so handsome and hot with his platinum hair and black shaped glasses and those stupid rings around his stupid slender and long fingers. You feel like if you make a skin to skin contact with him you gonna jump and fuck him right there and then.

You were opening up a cookie jar to take some of the cookies to put it on the plate when you feel a pair of hands holding you into an embrace. "What got you busy here, pumpkin? Are you avoiding me?" His head snuggle up your neck and one of his hand moving your hair to the side then his chin rest on your shoulder.

"Mingi, what are you doing? ngh-" you muffled a moan when the tips of his nose touch the skin of your neck.

"Mmh still so sensitive for me, my little pumpkin" he takes a heavy breath then let it out, the air brushing your skin make you shiver. "You smell like watermelon, you always love them pumpkin, you don't change even a bit" you grip his hands, trying to get out from his hold but it's just get tighter and tighter. "I really miss you pumpkin, please don't run away from me" he lick a stripe on your neck and that's it. That's enough to make you apologize to yourself and your boyfriend because you can't take it anymore.

"Stop it Mingi, we can't" Mingi stops his movement and you turn around to face him, he frowns. "We can't do it..in the kitchen, let's go to my room" smile creeps on his face as you hold his hand and take him you your room. Mingi take a sit on your bed then you straddle him and cup his face in your hands. "I got a feeling that you lie to me about Carla, but fuck it I really need you right now".

"I did not lie to you pumpkin, the actual reason I wanna break up with her is because I always think about you when I'm with her, not to mention when she started to copy your style by wearing a dress that is look just like yours" He plays with your hair while you wrap your arms around his neck.

"That is actually my dress, I gave it to her".

"Why?".

"That's a long story to tell.." his thumb starts rubbing your bottom lips.

"God I missed this lips so bad, really bad it hurts" his thumb now rubbing your cheek as you lean into him to put your lips on his. His eyes closed and so is yours, the more the kiss gets deeper and deeper.

Clothes scattered everywhere all over the floor, both of your bodies are now bare, touches everywhere. You lean into him to bury your face in the crook of his neck, leaving kisses and marks all over him. "I hope you wouldn't mind" you fingers grazing over the marks you made yourself on his skin.

"Don't even hesitate, pumpkin. Give me a lot of your reminder" you smirk at his words. Still sit on his lap, you stroke his cock to spread his precum all over his cock. He lets out moans while you look at his face, intensely. Wanting to observe every detail of expression he made, the way his eyebrows furrowed, his head falls back, mouth open wide and sweats trickle on his forehead. "Yess pumpkin, that feels nice..oh- fuckk" hisses leaves his lips when you slowly slip his cock inside you.

"Mingi..you feel bigger than I could remember" you moan out a bit louder, smile creeps on his face then he cups your ass on both of his hand and helps you grind on his cock.

Started with slow pace, when he sees your face filled with pleasure he decided to fasten the pace by moving you up and down his cock. You let out choked moans from his action then you lay down when you feel you don't have the ability to sit straight anymore which made Mingi stop his movement. "Aww, my little pumpkin feeling tired already? I thought- oh fuck! You still have the tattoo?" Mingi said after he sees the anchor tattoo on your left rib cage, on the side of your left boob.

"I mean it's a permanent tattoo Mingi..so yea, I still have it" it's the first ever tattoo you have which is it's Mingi who pushed you to get your first tattoo, and he even picked out the design.

He yanked your thighs then rub his cock on your pussy and slide it in. "Fucking come back to me pumpkin" before you can answer he thrust into you roughly, you muffled your scream by biting your bottom lips. Slapping sound, muffled moans and light sound of babbling from both of you and Mini echoed your bedroom.

"Fuck Mingi! You fuck me so hard, fuck me so good..gonna cum, pleasee.." you cry and start sobbing from the pleasure he's giving to you.

He thrust harder without slowing his pace then make you see stars when he licks his thumb then circle your clit with it, your body spasming under him, pussy clenching, eyes rolling back, drops of tears escapes then your hand flew to close your mouth with the back of your hand to stifled the sound that about to burst out of your mouth.

"Shit pumpkin, too tight!" Then he released inside you after a few thrust and give a few thrust to ride your orgasm. He leans down and put his head on your chest. "Your breath match with the sound of your heartbeat pumpkin" he looks at your face and smiles softly.

"Mingi..we shouldn't do this".

He looks at your face, confused "why? If you worry about Carla..listen, I'm not with her anymore and if you-".

"No..no Mingi, if my boyfriend know about this he definitely would kill me".

"You..you have a boyfriend? Fuck he gonna kill me too then".

You let out a soft chuckle and slight smile grew on Mingi's face show a hint of his dimples. "No one should know about this, about us. Let's just keep this and never do this again".

He frowns "I've been waiting for this too long, you do look really good everytime I passed by you everywhere, make me wanna have you again..But yeah, no one should know about this".

After that you and Mingi clean each other then he go out from your house when he thinks Carla must be gone from his house at this hour.

[flash-bastardd]

My respects gentlemen, let's get straight to the point. The story of how Logan finds himself in a situation where his soulmate is a five-year-old child.

A little background, Logan, as in the events of the film, becomes the "worst Wolverine", one of the repeating days, he is attacked in a bar by some crazy guy who claims to be from the future, wants revenge and blah-blah-blah, when Logan almost kills this unfortunate guy, he points at something that looks like old Tetris models and Logan finds himself in some godforsaken wilderness, finding a way from there he learns that he is in Canada, but not in his own, since he arrives three years ago, if you take into account the time in his past universe. A month later, Logan settled in and began to live in the wilderness working as a lumberjack, one day he meets a small child who looks like he's three years old in a red hoodie (And yes, an angry and gray wolverine and a little boy in a red hoodie, the classics never get old), the cub looks, to put it mildly, like he's been hungry for a long time and is covered in dirt. Logan's first thought was that this child was lost.

And brief errors in Logan's understanding of the situation:

1. Before his first full bath, he thinks that Wade is a girl.

2. Despite the fact that in his world there was a concept of soulmates, he didn't go into details and didn't know exactly how others understood that this was their soulmate, in his defense, Logan can say that given his childhood and everything that happened next, he didn't have time for this.

3. He believed that after some time he would be able to let Wade go to a family that would take care of him (Hehe, bub just doesn't know how possessive he is) and little Wade stays with him.

4. Wade originally lived with a drinking father, and his mother died, in this story, the X-gene was awakened earlier at 4 years old (as an option, naturally, or you can include the part where the bastard father sells him for experiments because of his debts), the ability to regenerate is the same, but slower and everything is fine with the skin, it's just more sensitive than that of ordinary people, so he needs a lot of sunscreen until he grows up.

5. At 15, Wade and Logan quarrel a lot, the first runs away from home and goes to the Army, which ends with him becoming Deadpool.

That's all for now, please consider the idea for writing a paper.

My respects gentlemen, let's get straight to the point. The story of how Logan finds himself in a situation where his soulmate is a five-year-old child. A little background, Logan, as in the events of the film, becomes the "worst Wolverine", one of the repeating days, he is attacked in a bar by some crazy guy who claims to be from the future, wants revenge and blah-blah-blah, when Logan almost kills this unfortunate guy, he points at something that looks like old Tetris models and Logan finds himself in some godforsaken wilderness, finding a way from there he learns that he is in Canada, but not in his own, since he arrives three years ago, if you take into account the time in his past universe. A month later, Logan settled in and began to live in the wilderness working as a lumberjack, one day he meets a small child who looks like he's three years old in a red hoodie (And yes, an angry and gray wolverine and a little boy in a red hoodie, the classics never get old), the cub looks, to put it mildly, like he's been hungry for a long time and is covered in dirt. Logan's first thought was that this child was lost. And brief errors in Logan's understanding of the situation: 1. Before his first full bath, he thinks that Wade is a girl. 2. Despite the fact that in his world there was a concept of soulmates, he didn't go into details and didn't know exactly how others understood that this was their soulmate, in his defense, Logan can say that given his childhood and everything that happened next, he didn't have time for this. 3. He believed that after some time he would be able to let Wade go to a family that would take care of him (Hehe, bub just doesn't know how possessive he is) and little Wade stays with him. 4. Wade originally lived with a drinking father, and his mother died, in this story, the X-gene was awakened earlier at 4 years old (as an option, naturally, or you can include the part where the bastard father sells him for experiments because of his debts), the ability to regenerate is the same, but slower and everything is fine with the skin, it's just more sensitive than that of ordinary people, so he needs a lot of sunscreen until he grows up. 5. At 15, Wade and Logan quarrel a lot, the first runs away from home and goes to the Army, which ends with him becoming Deadpool. That's all for now, please consider the idea for writing a paper.

ohhhh okay. I have a couple ideas for this !!!